Emperor-for-Life: DeadShop Redux (Unreal Universe Book 6)

by Lee Bond

  Dom laughed richly, then laughed again at the Golems’ look o’ confusion. “Old Man here refers to ‘King’s’ mood ‘neath The Dome. ‘twere believed by him and I that the rage coursing through Nickels’ blood were a result o’ ‘sblood and nowt else, but as it turns out, our man who would be King is at all times a seething cauldron of perfectly masked rage and violence chained.”

  “Not to mention, Kingly-afflicted poison…” Chevy pressed his lips together before spitting the horrible truth out. “You did wear that helmet too long in Ickford, Dom. Too long by half and then some.”

  “Shite.” Agnethea spat. “That explains all, then. King’s Own Madness. Weren’t a case o’ that for near on four hundred years. Ye've got a hobgoblin in your brains, squirtin' liquid foulness into the well o’ your thoughts."

  Dom had had quite enough chatting. With Book right there behind him, over his head, pulsing down promises of power unlike anything anyone anywhere had ever imagined before or since it’s creation, there weren’t any other thoughts in his head. He were well sick to death o’ this friendly agreement ‘tween the last four Arcadians in all the worlds and wanted nowt more than to get on t’the killing o’ them so he might be clearest of all victors in the game that waited.

  Spitting angrily, ex-Book Club Regular stepped forward, jerking a thumb backwards at the field. “I done some thinking on that shimmerlight there, hey? Before I got here, ‘Queenie’, you did try at least once to pass through unfettered, earning for your efforts some sort of smack to the backside?” When Agnethea nodded, fire kindling in her eyes o’er the insult, he continued on, grinning. “And while you did entreat me to risk the same, I do think it’s time we all of us laid a hand upon it.”

  “Why should we trust anything coming from your lips?” Mira demanded archly. “Of all of us here, you are definitely the least sane, now. Men like you or e’en Chevril there weren’t never meant to carry King’s inner burden. He himself hovers on the edge of chaos and darkness all the live long day, holding it inside wi’ impervious will. No one save him can do so. You will break, Dom. Give up your quest and go your own way. All of you. I will do no thing to you, ‘ere I am holder of Book. I do swear it. Live your lives as you would and think nowt of Book once we pull down the lights. Allow me to carry it away, and all will be good.”

  “Dismissing for the moment, o ghoulish predator, that you are a fucking Golem and not e’en a real person, it is a prime fact that no one here is going to let any of the other Arcadians loose the moment Book is got.” Dom walked back to the lights, held his hands out and moved them closer until he could feel the faintest hint of power flowing ‘neath the skin. “I do so intend to strip you of all your skin and bones and banish anything that remains to some place never imagined. I will blot out the skies with news of your deaths and ride your skeletons across the stars.”

  “King on a fucking Cross, Dominic Breton, you are completely fucking mennal, hain’t you just?” Chevy, against his better will, moved closer to lights as well, making a concerted effort to stay on t’other side of his old friend’s location. He simply could not stand to be near the thing once-noble Dom had become. “Either way, ladies, lad hain’t wrong. Book here is waitin’ for all our prints ‘pon lights. We all know it did call us here, did in some way arrange for us all to be at this spot at relatively the same time, going so far as to tell us where it and each other were, all so we could be judged.”

  “Judged, hey?” Agnethea stood nearest Chevy, certain that e’en though it were a truth that a full on, four ‘gainst four combat were on the way, the old Gearmaster would at least play it fair. “Nowt in this Outside as can lay proper judgment on my soul.”

  “Golems are soulless.” Mira intoned direly as she moved nearest Dom. ‘twere fair enough, she deemed; Chevy and Agnethea represented the ‘lighter’ side o’ Arcadians, whilst she and Bloody Dom were echoing fragments of all that’d been wrong with the Inside, so why not stand hip to hip with a madman? “’tis up to us here on the Outside to see if we can’t find a way to earn one.”

  “Fucking hell.” Dom hissed the curse. “I cannot wait for you all to be dead and gone. Bunch of fucking pillocks, the lot of you. And now, Arcadians, all for one, and one for all.”

  And so it was that four Arcadians did slap their hands on the lights dreamed into being by Book, who did wait for the right one…

  ***

  The battle was vicious and uncompromising. All four Arcadians were invested in keeping the others from laying their hands on powerful Book and were willing to do whatever it took to achieve their singular yet unanimous goal; of all of them, Chevy were having the toughest of times as he weren't gifted in the ways of strength and speed as were the others, though in truth, the Gearmaster held his own thanks to powered long coat.

  Mirabelle fought savagely 'gainst cruel Bloody Dom, delivering unto him a great many blows and vicious kicks, one and more than one for each unkind word flowing from 'tween his thin pressed lips. He in turn took every blow she passed his way, neither flinching nor cursing, accepting what he were due and in turn, handing back to her years and years of pent-up, seething hatred of all things Golem. They fought and scrabbled up and down Hill, one eye trained e'er upwards.

  Madman and Banshee, back and forth, up down, trails of blood streaming from the former's many wounds, nowt but more o' the same clear liquid flowing forth from ravaged marks torn into latter's no longer pristine flesh.

  Elsewhere on Hill, ex-Gearmaster turned Kennelman stood toe to toe 'gainst Eldest Golem turned Pirate Queen, blocking endless streams of fists hammering out from diminutive foe by way of keeping extremely vigilant and dancing as he'd never danced before, frustrating his foe magnificently enough to have her gnashing her pearlies. In turn, Agnethea found herself forced to back down time and again, impressed 'gainst all reason at Chevy's showing; every swipe she made bounced back off resilient metal coat was quickly followed by a sneaky kick or punch and -most recent- a withering headbutt that did leave her head ringing.

  Kennelman and Pirate Queen, back and forth, left and right, both putting up perfect defenses 'gainst the other, the former showing signs of running out o' steam, coat trailing bits and pieces o' gears and tiny sprockets, the latter breathing fast as bellows in a forge, shallow cuts and grooves dug into arms and upper chest, forehead cracked right in the center, leaking blood.

  And still they all fought, at one point passing through the other group, so intent on vanquishing their foe that they barely e'en noticed their surroundings.

  High above them all, Book looked down 'pon Arcadians, decision already made as to who were going to be the one who rightly deserved the burden of it's contents; carrying within it the taint of it's one true owner, Garth N'Chalez, it also held within it's pages the Kin'kithal's overwhelming and unspoken desires, and so applied those hidden characteristics to the Arcadians.

  Only one of four was worthy. Only one of four would lay hands upon it.

  It would see to that, oh yes, wouldn't it just?

  ***

  "Damn your hide, you Golemnic slattern!" Dom's words were a fury unto themselves, a yowling shriek that bounced off the Golem's unperturbed flesh.

  It weren't fair and it weren't right that something so grotesque and grim as Mirabelle should possess such unlimited strength and speed when he, a righteous and noble Gearman turned ... whatever he were now ... should be flagging now, in this most important of moments; her hands had become claws, and wherever those weapons fell on his flesh, wounds that burned laid down tracks.

  "Fucking just lay the fuck down and go the way o' all things unnatural 'neath The Dome. Disappear into dust and mud and begone!"

  "Welladay." Mira replied mockingly, mimicking Dom's snide tone from earlier on. "'tis nowt as come from your lips as I haven't heard down thousands of years of diseased life, nor hasn't crossed my own mind since I were ushered here, to the Outside. Your words are nothing to me, Bloody Dom, as are you yourself. As Gearman, you were worthy of hesitant respect a
nd cautious avoidance. As you are now, you are like the rest of my breed. A monster. Hissing and scratching, scratching and hissing."

  Dom bellowed savagely and launched himself direct at the Golem with the Weeping Eye, his own hands curled into hooked claws. "I'll do for you yet, see if I don't!"

  Mira welcomed Dom with open arms and the two of them did tumble from their spot high on the Hill...

  ***

  One of Agnethea's hands battered 'gainst impenetrable gear-linked chest, fingers pulling loose some few bits but more important, the gesture pushed the Kennelman back a step or two, almost causing him to lose his balance in the process.

  "You would destroy Book?" Agnethea asked, bringing the back of one hand to her mouth; she weren't bleeding, though a tickling there made it feel as if she should be, filling her with caution. E'en during the fight with her last foe, who surely owned greater strength, she'd not felt this odd sensation.

  'twere as if the old man's new coat, forged here, still had within it whispers o' Kingtech, which were surely impossible.

  Chevy took the unspoken agreement for a quick breather wi' a nod, holding one hand to heaving stomach. "Aye, Queen, I would indeed. There's nowt wi'in those pages as is good for any one of us, let alone all them as lives here in the Outside. I would prefer it. And you?"

  Agnethea shifted her weight from one leg to the other, ne'er stupid enough to trust a wounded Gearman, e'en one as friendly Chevy. "Put it on a shelf as before, Chevril. I would leave it there, untouched and alone, the centerpiece of a new room of treasures."

  "'twould leave it open to any who'd dare risk your ire, though." Chevril rolled his shoulders, felt aged muscles tremble but acquiesce, heard the faint yet unmistakable sounds of coat priming itself once more. "And though you cannot imagine it yet, there are things as walk 'round this Outside world that are greater than anything you've seen 'ere now. You cannot be that foolish."

  "When I," Agnethea steadied herself for the old man's cagey fighting style -truly, it were unlike anything she'd e'er seen, an odd mix of ancient techniques with summat as could only be described as 'Ickfordian', and it were well difficult to counter- and continued on, "am Pirate Queen Agnethea o' the Stars, Gearmaster…"

  "Nay." Chevy shook his head solemnly. He must give credit where it were due. "If I walk from this place alive and whole, Pirate Queen, Gearmaster no more. I've got myself some Hounds as wait for me on t'other side o' this Stack, and they do need their Kennelman."

  Agnethea dipped her head. It tugged at her pumper's strings for the need to battle someone like Chevy o'er Book, but none other than she could touch it. When he went down, she'd move on to the next. "Very well then, Kennelman. When I am the owner, and I hold my title in truth, none would dare. None would e'en dream it, nor whisper fruitless wishes into the sky out of fear I'd come straight th… oh fucking bollocks!"

  "Shite encrusted upon shite." Chevy ducked his head down at the same time Agnethea tried running, but the fleshy cannonball formed of Dom and Mirabelle struck them square no matter what.

  ***

  One person were hammerin’ away at his guts like there were a special treat inside and another were bashing summat ‘gainst resolute geared arm, and somewhere off in the murky distance o’ hazy awareness, someone else were cursing up a grand old storm, crawlin’ away ‘pon hands and feet as if they were some kind o’ animal and further up the Hill, Book were no doubt havin’ itself all of the laughs that were ever to be had.

  Four Arcadians, grownups all, some older than the hills themselves, all playing King O’ The Hill, none of them doin’ terribly well, all while the possible fate o’ the Outside Universe rest in the balance.

  Chevy couldn’t help himself, no he couldn’t. E’en as Agnethea –aye, now his head weren’t full o’ confused tumbling and he were focusing proper, it were indeed old Queen o’ fallen Ickford- were trying to batter into his guts and Dom were trying to gnaw his way through to protected shoulder-bone, it were all terrible funny.

  Terribly, terribly funny.

  The Kennelman opened his mouth and started howling with laughter, didn’t he just? Couldn’t help himself. Great huge gales of hilarity erupted forth, and when some random bit of detritus fell inside his open gob, well, that were just the icing on the cake, hey? Set him to laughing harder still, there, at the bottom o’ the Hill wi’ two opponents intent on murderin’ him.

  “Fuck is wrong wi’ you?” Dom demanded, confused by Chevy’s sudden antics and angry at the impressively durable handspun clockwork coat in equal measures. “You done lost your mind? Have you … hurk…”

  Agnethea took Dom’s disparaging comment to her advantage by way of drilling a bony elbow into the youngest Arcadian’s solar plexus as powerfully as one o’ their old steam horses thumping down the plain; as soon as the gory idiot doubled over, Agnethea were up and chasing after pale Mira, who were swiftly ghosting her way up the Hill unfettered.

  “Nowt … nowt is wrong wi’ me.” Chevy flopped over onto his stomach, then, using the augmented strength provided to him by his coat, pushed himself easily upwards onto his feet. He absentmindedly brushed a bit of dirt off with already dirty hands and looked to where Agnethea and Mirabelle struggled towards destiny. “’tis just the situation, hey? Only four o’ us left in the whole wild Outside, well, four as hain’t been altered by passing through Dome, and all we’re tryin’ to do is put our hands on a Book and murder the other remaining three. Seems like we’re finishin’ what old Barnie Blake wanted o’ us in the first place.”

  “Old man.” The pain in his solar plexus turned into a dull ache that joined the rest of the aches swarming through his very abused body, allowing Dom to pick himself up just as readily as Chevy. “Say you the King’s name in vain a final time and I’ll introduce you last to your death, and I’ll make it the worst thing the Universe has e’er seen. See if I don’t.”

  And just like that, Dom were off up the Hill once more, making a dread beeline direct for Agnethea, who were herself so terribly invested in delaying and then overtaking her kinswoman she remained ignorant of all else until it were too late; as Chevy, who were suddenly wondering if Book were e’en worth the effort o’ it all, watched on, Bloody Dom reached out and grabbed hold o’ Pirate Queen’s bare ankle, literally hoisting her cleanly free of Hill.

  An indignant squawk, followed hotly by a round of cursing as only a fifteen thousand year old Golem could ever manage split the air; a scant second later, Agnethea found herself back down t’the bottom o’ the Hill, right at Chevy’s feet.

  Seeing as he were in the midst o’ a crisis o’ conscience, Chevy reached down to give Agnethea the courtesy o’ a lift back to her feet.

  “Stupid old fool!” Agnethea hissed, turning eyes towards Mira and Dom as they battled heroically.

  Chevy wished mightily for a pair of glasses with which he could pretend to clean, all so he could fritter away few seconds o’ time. “I hain’t sure if you mean me or you at this point, milady.”

  Agnethea flinched as Dom took one of Mira’s feet right in the middle o’ ‘is forehead; the sound left little in the way of wondering whether or not the lad would awake in the morning with a throbbing headache. With luck, bits of bone ‘neath the skin would crack loose ‘ere he slumbered and turn the pasty gray lump inside into shredded goop. “Either or, I reckon. You’ve given up on Book, old man?”

  “Reckon I have.” Chevy gave a half-hearted shrug. “Only ever wanted to lay hands on it to keep th’ rest o’ you from doin’ the same. Planned on destroyin’ it, as I said there in the beginning. And you? Honestly? ‘pon a shelf? One of the greatest things the Outside’s ever seen?”

  This time it were Chevy who responded to a painfully delivered blow; Dom, either in retaliation for boot to forehead, somehow contrived to be suddenly right atop Mirabelle, both hands on either side of lass’s head and as both Kennelman and Pirate Queen watched, he did hammer her face into Hill, o’er and o’er again.

  Agnethea were perversely pleased sh
e were down here instead o’ up there. Thinking mind tucked away in her pocket were in full accordance with her decision as well; all the shiny ball were capable of doing at the moment were the mental equivalent of jumping jacks, as this whole time, it’d been aggravatingly full of vocalized doubts as to it’s continued existence should she be the one to touch Book.

  Now it’d most likely never need to wonder.

  “Oh aye.” Agnethea responded with a bright nod. “Doing so would’ve tickled me in the fancy every day I did lay eyes on it, Kennelman. Going about my business, whatever that might truly be, and wi’ Book on a shelf? Perhaps I might’ve gone so far as to allow dust to settle on it’s metal cover, adding to it’s apparent valueless nature. Tickled me pink. What will you do ‘ere Bloody Dom gets it?”

  “As I am likely to be in possession of a fair number of wardogs…” Chevy caught Agnethea’s twitch and nodded sagely, “Aye, turns out not every gearhead or ‘dog on the Inside as died stayed in their eternal slumber. Either King or what ailed ‘im contrived to shift them out here, where each and every lad or lass did become a kind of local legend, well gifted in the art of war and all else relating to destruction.

  Anyways, as I were sayin’, I did come wi’ a few, and a few more were added into th’ mix, and all them lot are chatty wi’ everyone else, so if Dom becomes Book owner, well. He might become possessed o’ all the powers o’ our King Nickels, hey, but I feel in my water that not e’en King Himself could handle the attentions of an army of wardogs equipped wi’ Outside gear. And you, milady Pirate Queen? What if remorseful and twisted Mirabelle o’ the Weeping Eye should put cold and clammy hands across Book’s pages? I should tell you, hey, ‘ere the end o’ Ickford, she did wander around the scene, looking for souls to save, and when th’ end of it all come raining down, she did stand by two foolish Gearmen, weeping angel intent on keepin’ uz safe.”