Table? Oh yeah. Lost among the grand entrances, explosions, and destiny coming to bear, I had somehow missed that the center of the arena contained a table made from the heartwood of a massive tree. I wondered if it was one of Sayuri’s cousins.
“WELCOME!” a booming voice sounded in my mind. It was similar to the voice from my dream. Talk about having a Jean Grey moment. Gary rubbed his ears while the dryads seemed completely unfazed. “WE, THE GATHERED, ARE HERE TO BEAR WITNESS TO A SUMMIT OF PEACE IN THE SPIRIT OF THE HEROES AND LEGENDS OF OUR ESTEEMED ANCESTORS. WE, THE GATHERED, ARE CALLED FORTH TO MEDIATE ALLEGED VIOLATIONS OF THE TERMS SET FORTH WITHIN THE HUMBABA ACCORD, AS SIGNED IN BLOOD ON THE THREE HUNDREDTH AND TWENTY SEVENTH CYCLE OF ABZU THE VIOLATOR. . .”
“Um, Gary, does that make any sense to you?”
He shook his head. “Safe to assume they used a slightly different calendar back then.”
“THE CHILDREN OF HUMBABA DEMAND AUDIENCE AGAINST THE ACCUSED. SHOULD GRIEVANCES FAIL TO BE SETTLED IN A MANNER CONCURRENT WITH THE TERMS OF THE ACCORD, RITUAL COMBAT WILL THEN ENSUE.”
“Why do I have a feeling it’s going to end up being a vampire on Sasquatch cage match?” Gary asked.
“Oh, it usually is, but that’s half the fun,” Dionaea said leaning between us. “From what I’ve heard—”
“…THE GATHERED, SHOULD THEY CHOOSE TO ACCEPT THIS JUDGMENT, SHALL CLAIM A RIVAL’S HAND IN MARRIAGE FOR THE TRADITIONAL EXCHANGE OF PEACE OFFERINGS, SO IT IS STATED, SO IT SHALL BE. . .”
“Marriage. . .” I started.
Gary shrugged. “How would that even work?”
Once more, our dryad peanut gallery chimed in with, “Oh trust me, it works, sugah.” I’ll take things I never wanted to hear for a thousand, please, Alex. “Once you go giant, your fly trap is forever pliant.” Make that two thousand.
However, the moderator of Sauron was still going strong. Crap, what did I miss? “…BILL RYDER, THE ONE CLAIMING TO BE THE REBORN FREEWILL.” The other half of the arena went mental. This was it. It was time to meet my destiny.
The hunk conferred with his geeky companion and a few others, including a woman with blonde hair and curves rivaling Dionaea in the femme fatale department. I was curious to hear my hot nemesis speak at last.
Um, why was the nerd stepping forward? After a moment of confusion, the guy in glasses took the spot at the head of the table, while the gorgeous one stepped back into the crowd.
What?!
“That’s the ubervamp I’m supposed to battle?” He looked like my physics teacher’s slightly heavier brother, or maybe the dude who repaired my laptop last time I brought it to Best Buy.
“THE CHILDREN OF HUMBABA HAVE—” Cue the deafening hoots and hollers of the Sasquatch brigade, loud enough to drown out even the voice beaming into my skull. “. . .THEY ARE REPRESENTED BY THE MIGHTY LEADER OF THE NORTHERN TRIBES, TURD.”
Cheers of “Turd, Turd, Turd!” filled our half of the arena. Even the stoic Sayuri nodded in time with the beat while Dionaea let out a rip-roaring cheer.
“I’m not chanting that,” Gary said. Couldn’t blame him.
The one called Turd pushed his way through the ranks—not that you couldn’t see him coming a mile away. If Bush had seemed impressive when I first met her, this Sasquatch put her to shame. “Those are skulls, right? He’s wearing skulls, Gary.”
“That is one impressive Turd,” Gary deadpanned. I probably shouldn’t have burst out laughing at a peace summit that might determine the fate of the world, but damn if his timing wasn’t spot on.
“THE LEADERS OF EACH PARTY WILL NOW GREET EACH OTHER.”
“Freewill,” Turd snarled as the crowd quieted. Even this far away I felt a shiver. “You are different than I imagined.” Turd seemed to be vocalizing my internal monologue. I turned my attention to the much smaller man in the puffy coat. Was something supposed to happen? In comics and the movies, these sorts of showdowns always had dramatic lighting to frame the shot. All I got was a bunch of background chatter and the heavy aroma of forest funk. And why wasn’t my magic hair going haywire? It must be underwhelmed by this dude as well.
In my shock at how not threatening this ubervamp appeared, I almost missed Turd and him having their own standoff. This Bill guy glared defiantly at the way bigger Foot leader. His smile made his already sarcastic face positively punchable. “Oh, mighty Turd,” he said, grinning even more obnoxiously. “I pay you great respect. I have seen much in my time, but know that you are the largest and most impressive turd I have ever witnessed.”
“My timing was better,” Gary said with a sigh. I had to agree with him.
The war chief’s face went surprisingly pensive. “You pay great honor to Turd, Freewill,” he replied solemnly, “Turd will remember this.”
“What is that in his hands? Is that—?” Gary trailed off.
I cocked my head and took in more of this Bill Ryder dude. “Um, I think it’s a Snapple bottle.”
♦ ♦ ♦
“Are we there yet?” Gary sighed as we listened to another declaration of what sort of rituals could be submitted for magical evidence. Apparently only mutually agreed on, organic eye of newt was acceptable, among other things. At one point I think they even went into dietary restrictions—apparently eating the other delegations was a no-no. I guess that was mostly for the vampires. Try as both sides might, neither looked particularly interested as the details dragged on. I think everyone in the arena had managed to tune out the voice in their head. I did, however, put on my best show for Sayuri of looking like I was paying attention. If I had one true superpower, it was zoning out without giving too much away.
“No, we end this now!”
Wait, what? What did I miss? The faintest of smiles crossed Sayuri’s lips as one of the Sasquatches at Turd’s end of the table caused a major ruckus. “Rise, my brothers! Rise and let us kill the T’lunta!” the angry Bigfoot roared. Many of the groups on our half of the arena tittered and whispered furtively. This couldn’t be good.
The agitator went full-Tarzan, beating his chest and leaping to his feet. “No peace! NO PEA—”
Lightning struck again. In a flash, the rebellious giant became a pile of ash. Oh, crap, Big Green did not play. “YOU ARE OUT OF ORDER,” it said, as calmly as reading a laundry list.
The crowd burst to life all around us. “Are you not entertained?” I gasped under my breath. How was there ever going to be peace if everyone was out for blood?
I gave a sidelong glance to the dryads. Olivia remained seated with her companions, a look of horror on her face, while Sayuri’s side of the delegation stood and golf-clapped.
“PER SUBSECTION THREE OF THE SCROLL OF CEDAR. . .”
“Are they not going to stop? That dude was vaporized.” A hand clamped over my mouth as Sayuri stared right through me.
“Eyes open, mouth shut, child. You might learn something,” the dryad chided. What did she mean? I followed her gaze to the central table where the vampires, including his royal highness, king of the geeks, looked aghast and shaken.
The Sasquatches remained solemn, a few rubbing necklaces that looked suspiciously like mine. Even Burp had taken a break from glaring at me to stare at the proceedings. Only the Sasquatch leader looked calm, almost bored, with the same callous glint in his eyes that Sayuri had perfected. Maybe this guy wasn’t all brawn and no brains after all.
As the droning continued, I finally met Bush’s gaze. My blood ran cold as I saw something I’d never seen in her face before. My hair finally flared and I could feel her rage as if it was my own. A sinking feeling filled my chest, only heightened by Gary taking that very moment to grimace and slap his fist against his forehead. “Gary?”
“I have . . . a . . . bad feeling—” he stammered just as the moderator bellowed, “RECESS IS CALLED UNTIL TOMORROW NIGHT.”
“Are you talking stomach ache bad feeling, or a bad feeling?”
Dionaea and Sayuri both turned to watch us.
“We need to go,
now, Jess. Something is—”
“I think you two need to get ready. Conqueror of Burp, tonight you will be my guest in the Grove, assuming that you still have that title,” Sayuri said, rising to her feet. She pointed to the Sasquatch and his much larger companion making a pointed march toward us. “Good luck.”
“You!” he cried. “Burp have challenge for you!”
“Let me guess. That kinda bad feeling,” I said as Gary and I discovered exactly how much discretion was the better part of valor by running for the exit.
Chapter Thirty-Two: You Have to Fight for your Right to Party
“He’s still following us,” Dionaea said.
“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”
“I don’t think he’s going to settle for talking this through,” Gary added, just in case Dionaea wasn’t doing a good enough job of describing how screwed I was.
Up ahead, the path forked. One side was clear, while what appeared to be a pack of fireflies fluttered in the other. Huh. A bit cold for them, but magic, I supposed. If video games have taught me one thing, it’s if something sparkles, you should probably check it out. I picked up the pace and headed that way, taking us into a thicker section of woods.
“I’m not sure about this, Jess,” Gary said. “I think those are will-o-wisps.”
The path narrowed and the overgrowth thickened. I could hear branches cracking behind us as Burp and his big friend kept coming. “Well what’s worse, will-o-wisps or an angry Sasquatch?”
“Will-o-wisps,” Gary and Dionaea both answered without skipping a beat.
Gary glanced around us at the sparkling orbs lighting up the trees. “You do realize they have a reputation for leading travelers to their doom, right?”
“So, what you’re saying is every video game I’ve ever played is a lie.” I cried out as my hand raked against a thorn bush, drawing blood. Maybe he had a point.
Once more the path split before us, around a gnarled tree straight out of a Grimm’s fairytale. One side looked like a fairly benign path through the forest, while the other was far more foreboding. There was almost no way there wasn’t a wicked witch waiting at the end of it.
“STOP RUNNING! BURP CHALLENGE YOU!!!” Seriously, does that guy even have an inside voice? “BURP FRIEND SMASH COWARDS!!”
“So, um, do you have a plan, sugah, or are you just wingin’ it? I’m not judgin’ but there are some . . . things at this conference that I’d just as soon not bump into.”
“Everyone knows the nice friendly paths always lead toward doom,” I said, hooking a right toward the dark and scary one.
“They do?” Dionaea asked, her voice rising an octave.
“Trust me. I’ve played this game before.”
♦ ♦ ♦
The path led to a clearing, one that reminded me way too much of a boss fight arena. “Yeah, I’m thinking we keep going.”
Sadly, this place had other ideas. I led the way to the far side just as the ground beneath us began to crumble. Fortunately, one of Dionaea’s vines shot out and snagged me by the back of my armor, pulling me in time before I could tumble into the sinkhole that opened up before us.
I stepped forward gingerly and peered down, seeing a drop full of frozen roots that ended in what appeared to be an underground river rushing past. Several of those dancing lights flittered around it.
“What was that you were saying about will-o-wisps?”
Gary rolled his eyes. “Oh, now you want to listen?”
“Quick,” Dionaea said, “what are you feeling right now?”
“You mean besides glad I didn’t fall?”
She shook her head. “No. I mean, your emotions.”
“Um, ticked off, I guess,” I said. “Definitely annoyed. A bit frustrated. . .”
“That’s good.” At my raised brow, she explained, “Will-o-wisps are trickster spirits. They thrive on fear and terror. It’s like a fine wine to them. There’s no challenge to them if someone is either too brave or too dumb to be afraid.” I was tempted to ask which she thought I was, but she wasn’t finished yet. “So long as we don’t freak out, they should get bored quickly and hopefully not throw anything else our way.”
“Oh. That’s good.”
“BURP COMING FOR YOU!!!”
I had to open my mouth. Unfortunately, he sounded so close, probably too close for us to circumnavigate the sinkhole before he could get here. I turned to Dionaea. “Protect Gary. Oh, and if it comes down to it, maybe me too.”
“That’s your plan?!” Gary asked.
“What can I say? I believe in the KISS principle.”
Dionaea grabbed Gary and dragged him behind her, eliciting a slight twinge of jealousy from me. Guess maybe that stupid pool wasn’t as out of my system as I thought. Fortunately, there wasn’t any time to ruminate on that as Burp burst into the clearing.
“GOOD! NO MORE RUNNING!” he screamed.
“Look, Burp, I don’t want to fight you. And I don’t think your mother wants you to fight me.”
“Burp’s mother weak! Burp strong!”
So much for the reasonable approach. Time to speak a language he hopefully understood . . . other than beating my chest and screaming. “Listen, I already beat you once. I respect your mother too much to do it again.”
“You refuse Burp’s challenge?” His eyes and face turned positively red. I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume his dad wasn’t big on telling junior here “no.” Somehow my life had devolved into one of three options at any given moment—run, make a quip, or punch something supernatural.
“You heard me.”
“Then Burp not fight you.”
Really? Well, that was easy.
“No! You instead be crushed by Burp’s champion!”
Uh oh. Something big came down the path behind him, knocking two trees out of the way so as to fit past the narrow opening leading to the clearing. The cloaked beast was easily twice Burp’s size, maybe more, every bit the equal of Turd in stature.
“You claim to be mighty like Hugh Jackman. But he now here to prove you wrong.”
“What?!” Call me crazy, but he looked a lot smaller in The Prestige.
The cloaked beast stepped forward and whipped back his hood with a roar of rage, revealing a shaggy mass topped with gleaming black horns. It was at that precise moment I realized that I needed to work on my listening skills. They’d never been saying Hugh Jackman. All along, they’d meant—
“Oh no, it’s Huge Yakman!” Dionaea screamed.
So much for asking for an autograph.
Chapter Thirty-Three: Azkaban Would be so Much Scarier With...
My opponent, now properly identified as Huge rather than Hugh, did exactly what I’d expect the minotaur’s hairier cousin to do—he stomped his hooves, lowered his horns, and charged.
Freaked out as I was, I still had enough sense to not want to be in his way. Fortunately, my parkour skills were up to snuff. I dove nimbly to the side.
And then promptly forgot how freaking long this thing’s reach was as he lashed out and caught me with a backhand. It was a glancing blow, but it still knocked me into a tree trunk. Ow.
“Jessie!” Gary yelled, his anime name calling right on time.
“I’m okay,” I said, climbing back to my feet. Fortunately, the armor Sayuri had given me was not just for show. Less fortunate, it wouldn’t protect me if he simply grabbed my head and crushed it like a bug.
I spent the next several seconds imitating a chicken with its head cut off, dodging and weaving the massive yak monster as it threw blow after blow my way. All the while Burp roared with glee at every near miss. Glad someone was enjoying the show.
I was smart enough to know a war of attrition when I saw one. It was only a matter of time before this beast connected and stomped me into a pile of Jell-O. Time for what was probably a terrible idea. I skidded to a halt right in front of the massive sinkhole, then raised my hand and waved him on, Matrix-style.
There’s no way he’s dumb eno
ugh to fall for. . .
But apparently, I was wrong. He charged me and I rolled to the side, hoping yak monsters couldn’t fly. One Wilhelm scream and a splash later confirmed that in the negative. Hopefully that was enough to dissuade my furry—”
“No! Huge Yakman!” Burp cried. “Burp smash you!”
Burp charged blindly at me, prompting the slightest of eye rolls as I stepped aside to let him join his yak buddy. Poor idiot should have probably taken a physics class.
Sadly, he wasn’t the only idiot present. In my arrogance, I’d failed to take into account that an adolescent monkey boy might be a tad more dexterous that a two-ton yak-man.
He went over the edge but managed to spin midair and snag my ankle on the way, sending us both into freefall.
♦ ♦ ♦
Cold!
Hitting the icy water below was far more of a wake-up call than being attacked by even a ten-foot yak monster. Sadly, freezing to death would have to take a backseat to drowning as the current immediately swept me under. I was certain that was it. Dressed for battle as I was, I instinctively knew I’d sink like a stone.
So imagine my surprise a moment later when I managed to kick my way to the surface. Seems the dryads had a couple of extra tricks up their sleeve, as my breastplate proved surprisingly buoyant. Talk about plot armor. I didn’t know what sort of unstable molecules this thing was made of, but I wasn’t about to complain.
No, I had plenty of other things to complain about as I was swept through a cave full of twinkling lights—more will-o-wisps, judging by the strange whispered laughter in the air. There came a roar from somewhere up ahead, more pain than rage, but there wasn’t much I could do about it, swept along as I was. My teeth chattered, but I still seemed to have control of my limbs—a near miracle considering the temperature of the water, or maybe not. If even a smidgeon of that magic pool’s enchantment remained in me, it might be enough to keep me from turning into a Jess-sicle.
Second String Savior Page 27
