Second String Savior

by Rick Gualtieri

“Beloved mate is gone . . . and it is all Freewill T’lunta’s fault!” Turd bellowed. The crowd roared with battle cries. I really couldn’t blame them. He didn’t even look like he was paying attention. Even the hot vampire I once drooled over was sitting in the bleachers making a jerking off motion. What the hell was wrong with vampires?

  I stared back at the ubervamp and his supremely punchable face, thinking I could learn to enjoy facing my destiny. I envisioned throwing him into a wall of stakes and then giving him a holy water shower before putting him in a choke hold. I’d make sure not to shave my pits for days so he would totally die by magic armpit muff!

  Whoa, the anger was getting a little overwhelming, and I could feel my scalp burning.

  Gary squeezed my hand. “Low Profile.”

  Damn it, I know. I’m not going to blow my top yet!

  Now the Freewill dude and the hot vamp were staring at each other while the hot one kept making the motion with his hands. Oh my God! Couldn’t they wait? Get a room, you two!

  “HOW DOES THE FREEWILL RESPOND TO THIS GRIEVANCE?”

  The ubervamp looked desperately to his companions, a mixture of surprise and stupidity in his eyes. I could totally rack him and not start the apocalypse, right? The universe would grant me that, right? What could he possibly say that would explain why Bush called his name before she died? What treachery would be worth her life? What could he say to Burp or to Fluff that might give some reason to this tragedy?

  The ubervamp stood up and said, “It was an accident.”

  An accident? That was all he could say at a time like this?! I screamed along with the crowd. This was on like Donkey Kong!

  He added, “Sorry.” As if that somehow made it all better. More sparks ignited in my braid.

  “Way to go, Socrates,” the only girl in the vampire contingent muttered under her breath. At least someone in his coterie had a brain.

  The skinny dude stood up, looking just as punchable as his friend. “If I may. . .”

  “YOU HAVE NOT BEEN RECOGNIZED,” the moderator beamed out. It started to pulse angry colors. “YOU ARE OUT OF ORDER.”

  I probably shouldn’t have wished for a disintegration double feature. That was not the sort of thinking a hero should have, even a furious one.

  The guy quickly sat back down. I mean, what was he going to claim, a diarrhea defense? When you gotta go, you gotta go? Ugh!

  “DO YOU HAVE ANYTHING ELSE TO ADD?”

  “Oh, do you mean me?” the ubervamp asked.

  “YES.” The moderator even sounded exasperated in our heads.

  “It won’t happen again,” he added. Lame. He looked expectantly toward Turd. This was not gonna end well. I could feel it in my bones.

  Turd snatched a club from one of his lieutenants. He smashed it into the table with surprising force even for a Sasquatch. “No!” Turd bellowed. “Not accepted. I and my people demand blood!”

  “VERY WELL. WILL THE LIFE OF THE OFFENDING HUMAN SUFFICE?”

  “Human is nothing,” Turd growled. “The Freewill must die.”

  “AS MODERATOR TO THE TWO PARTIES, I CANNOT OFFER FOR SACRIFICE THE LEADER OF EITHER FACTION. WHAT SAY YOU, FREEWILL? DO YOU ACCEPT THE TERMS?”

  Even an idiot wouldn’t accept that. Besides, he didn’t look like the self-sacrificing type. Sure enough, he fired back, “Fuck no” without skipping a beat.

  “THE OFFER HAS BEEN REFUSED. TURD, THE REMAINING OPTIONS ARE TO DROP YOUR GRIEVANCE OR—”

  “Combat!” Turd howled.

  The crowd went nuts. No, I went nuts—letting out all my rage in a single scream. Let those two fight it out. They both could use a good punching, even if the smug jerk didn’t look like he’d last thirty seconds.

  This was it, wasn’t it? This was the real purpose of all that death. I howled as loud as I could, my hair now completely red once more. Did I even care which one of them started this? No. Both of them were guilty as far as I was concerned.

  Let them duke it out. Let them kill each other.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight: More than Meets the Eye

  “I fight my own battles.”

  I think that might have been the first thing the ubervamp said that didn’t make me want to immediately slap him.

  “THE CHALLENGE IS ACCEPTED.” The ball of light fluctuated and seemed to spin toward the Sasquatches. “WHO AMONG YOU WILL FIGHT THE FREEWILL?”

  Every Sasquatch jumped at the chance, but I couldn’t help but notice one in the back who seemed a bit slower than the others. With his darker fur and a slight ridge on his back he reminded me of Burp, maybe an uncle. None of it mattered, though. Turd pounded his club and declared, “Turd fight!”

  Gary giggled next to me and I shot him a look.

  “What? I laugh when I’m nervous.”

  “THE FIELD WILL BE CLEARED, SAVE FOR THE COMBATANTS.” The ball pulsed again and then zapped the table. It began to disintegrate, causing the dryads to cry out in horror.

  “There will be a reckoning for this insult,” Sayuri snapped. Meanwhile in the arena, the Freewill took a moment to finish his drink. I suppose hydration was important, even for the undead. Whatever he drank didn’t seem to agree with him, however.

  “Oh, God!” he screamed, falling to his knees. Was he poisoned? Turd was too busy doing his best WWE impression and rousing the crowd to notice. It made me want to punch them both.

  “Bill, are you okay?” his friend asked. I felt the fire rising in the pit of my stomach. The ubervamp’s eyes were now solid black, as cold and dark as the kushtakas’.

  “I’m right as rain, motherfuckers,” the ubervamp snarled. Uh oh. I had read more than enough of the Incredible Hulk to know a transformation coming when I saw it. His hands curled into talons while his muscles began to bulge. “Run!” he said to his stunned companions.

  Oh God, the heat. I tried to scream as I felt flames inside my chest, but no words came out of my mouth. The monster in the arena howled one last warning, “RUN!”

  No, he was the one that needed to run. I looked at my fingertips and saw pinpricks of white light now burning under my nails.

  “COMBAT WILL END WHEN ONE OF THE COMBATANTS CAN NO LONGER CONTINUE.”

  Both the ubervamp and Turd hurled themselves at each other while I felt . . . I felt like I was falling, falling into a star. This was it. This was the moment, the point of no return. I felt a surge of certainty from deep within. I felt lips pressed against my lips. What the—

  My eyes snapped open and saw Gary’s face smooshed against mine, his eyes a blazing yellow. No! No, no, no . . . this was just wrong. What was he doing, and why was he doing it in the middle of an epic supernatural battle?

  I ripped myself away and wiped my mouth furiously. The dryads and Aunt Phil stared at us in horror. Couldn’t a girl commune with her Phoenix Force in peace? “Gary—!”

  He held onto me tightly. “Please Jessie, just listen to me. If you change, if you give in now, there is no possible scenario where we don’t all end up dead, or worse. Just trust me.”

  His words slammed into me. He’d blipped. That had to be it. I looked at my hands. One moment they glowed in righteous flames, the next, plain old Jessie. “Trust you? Gary, what is going on?”

  Blood started dribbling from his nose and his eyes began to flash between blue and gold. Every time it happened his hair gained a new white streak. This couldn’t be good. He looked me pleadingly in the eyes. “Wrong place . . . wrong time . . . wrong. . .” His eyes rolled back in his head. “This . . . isn’t . . . your . . . dest—”

  “What are you doing?” Sayuri must’ve been reading my mind. “The girl, she—”

  “Don’t listen to them, Jess,” Gary choked out before he fell over. Both Dionaea and I rushed to his side. By the time he hit the ground, half his head had bleached to silver. A wisp drifted over to watch. Not good. Fortunately, the battle rose to a crescendo down below and people rushed to see a Sasquatch fly ten feet in the air from an uppercut. I couldn’t even see his opponent, he
was moving so fast.

  “We need to get him out of here,” Dionaea said. The world went hazy and in the blink of an eye, the three of us landed in the middle of the grove. A pink llama gave an irritated sniff and moved his grazing to the other side of the meadow.

  Dionaea grabbed her head and dropped to her knees. “Dayum, that shouldn’t have taken so much effort.”

  “We have to go back. I have to see what happens. Something was happening—”

  A flash of light interrupted me and then Phil was rushing to her nephew’s side, shoving past both me and Dionaea. “Oh Gare-bear, what have you done?”

  Gary groaned and fluttered his lashes. “It was the wrong time, Aunt Phil. I had to stop her. I had to—”

  Phil looked to me. “What does he mean? What happened to you?”

  “I saw the Freewill’s darkness, and I wanted . . . I wanted to burn it, but Gary’s right. Something is very, very wrong. Something Turd said, about the silver eyes, that it would come from the Freewill, that—”

  “Would you really believe something that idiot said? He was playing to the crowd, trying to scare everyone.”

  “What is the meaning of this?” Sayuri demanded, stepping out of a nearby tree and flanked by two dryad guards.

  “He . . . um, just had a bit of a headache,” Dionaea offered. “And I thought—”

  “Do you think me such an idiot? That one’s a seer, isn’t he?” Sayuri asked, an accusing finger pointed at Gary. “I heard him raving back there. He spoke of the future with a certainty that mortals should not have.”

  Phil cradled her nephew in her arms. “Gary, have you been seeing things again?”

  Sayuri pointed to me now. “You began to glow, but not like before. You know what that means. It is time to end these games and for you to accept your power. Whoever wins back there will kill the other and there will be war. There is no doubt. Ask your seer if he has seen what ours have. Ask him if he’s seen the great tide of death that is to come if you do not act.

  “Will you risk everything over uncertainty, risk the lives of those you love? Or will you, Conqueror of Burp, finally accept your destiny?”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Moment of Half-Truth

  You know those moments when time seems to stand still? Those moments when you take a breath, close your eyes, and find yourself lost? I never expected that mine would happen in a Greek temple . . . in a pocket dimension in Canada. How did I end up standing in front of a pedestal, in front of a cup that possibly contained the blood of Uranus. . . err, a god? How did it come to this?

  “Ananke rules us all, child,” Sayuri whispered in my ear. “Ash was right, you know—destiny is an illusion. Fate cares little for each strand, merely the tapestry as a whole. Those with the will . . . will hear the call. It is this necessity that draws heroes to the light. You have the fire in your veins, Jessie. It’s a fire that has burned from your ancestors all the way to you. You simply need to take the final step. Drink deep of the blessing of our great father and lead us to the path of victory.”

  How was I supposed to argue with that? I refused once and Bush died. On the other hand, there was Gary’s warning—and kiss—back in the arena. How many prophecies could I dodge in a single road trip before Armageddon became all my fault? Perhaps I should just hop on the pale horse already and pray it was a unicorn.

  “Lady Sayuri!”

  I blinked a few times at the interruption, whirling around to find Mr. Keyne standing at the far end of the hall, having changed out of his old flannel to a red plaid version.

  Sayuri snarled and whipped her spear around her wrist. As it rolled back into her palm, the weapon transformed into a katana which she brandished at Mr. Keyne with pure ice in her eyes. “How dare you interrupt us, servant?”

  He bowed his head. “Lady Ash summons you to council. There has been a victor in the battle between the Children of Humbaba and the T’lunta. She orders you to her side immediately.”

  Sayuri glared at me for a moment, then stormed to the entrance. I gasped as the sword flicked in her hand and a thin streak of blood appeared across Mr. Keyne’s cheek. “Keep her here until she drinks that blood. Do not cross me, servant.”

  “Yes, my mistress,” he said, not bothering to wipe the blood away. As soon as the dryad disappeared in the stairwell, I ran to his side. With every step I took away from the goblet, my head started to clear.

  “Mr. Keyne, are you all right?” I tore off part of my stupid robe to make a bandage. “What’s happening? My head feels all—”

  “This place is enchanted, Mistress Flores,” he whispered. “The longer you stay, the more it seduces you.”

  “Is that what happened to you?”

  He looked away. “I made my choice a long time ago but . . . it’s not too late for you.”

  “Someone is lying to me. I just don’t know who.”

  Mr. Keyne finally looked me right in the eyes. “Everybody lies, Jessie.”

  I raised an eyebrow “Do they?”

  He leaned in so close that I could feel the breath on my cheek. “Like I just lied to Sayuri. Now, run.”

  He squeezed me into a bear hug, and I felt a few droplets of his warm blood hit my forehead. He squeezed me even tighter. “Run to the river. I cannot tell you everything, but there you will find those who are beyond the grove’s power. You faced them once—”

  “Wait, I can’t—”

  “Abraxas and Alkire have already taken your friends back to the shaman. You must hurry before the fight really ends. Go!”

  “But. . .”

  “Just go! Don’t let my betrayal be for nothing, Jessie.”

  I took off running. True to Mr. Keyne’s word, the grove garden was clear. I didn’t stop until I tore through the curtain of vines and had to zigzag for what felt like an eternity before finally finding the river’s edge. What was I even doing? Still, Mr. Keyne risked everything to warn me.

  Reaching the water’s edge, I realized there was only one thing I’d met, apart from the two monsters in the arena, that seemed to make the dryads nervous, and they were certainly the type to hang out in a freezing river.

  “Hello?” I called to the rushing water. “Um, I want some toast?”

  What was I even doing? I dropped onto the bank and let out a deep sigh. My reflection shimmered and swirled until a happy little face burst out of my image’s chest. I really hoped that wasn’t foreshadowing. It made a cheerful chirping noise then skittered onto the ground next to me. Did I accidentally summon a regular otter by mistake? “Dís-One?”

  His eyes turned solid red and a shadow surrounded him. As he curled around my legs, it became painfully obvious that this was not the same type of cheery critter that entertained me in Worcester’s Ecotarium.

  “You came back. Did you want to join with us, perhaps?” he hissed, rolling onto his back and doing his best Mr. Burns impression with his claws.

  “A friend told me to come here. I have a bunch of dryads looking for me. . .”

  Dís chattered and wrapped around me even more. As his nose booped my temple, he recoiled with a sizzle. My hair could burn him—good to know. He sniffed again. “Did you steal something from them?”

  “What? No. They want to give me the blessing of Uranus so I can lead them, or maybe fight some ubervamp and glow even more. I don’t know anymore. There are so many prophecies flying around that I don’t know if I’m supposed to bring balance to the universe or stop Voldemort.”

  Dís-One chattered with horrible laughter. I didn’t think my joke was that good. “You are distraught and confused. Chaos and uncertainty run through your soul . . . so . . . so . . .tasty!”

  I jumped to my feet and whipped my hair menacingly. Do not fail me now, bazooka braid! Dís rose to an upright position as well.

  “Dís-One feeds on such negativity, yes,” he cooed, slinking around me. “Can even take it away, if you want.”

  “No thanks, I think I’d like to keep all my memories.”

  “Even the
uncomfortable ones?”

  My mind flipped uncontrollably between Gary or Burp face-sucking and finding Bush lying in the snow. No, I wouldn’t lose any of those, no matter how painful they were.

  Dís-One clapped excitedly. I must have just given him a show in my mind. “Yes. We see the thoughts of those we contact and savor the ones of those we devour. Even the living dead pay their bounty to Dís-One. We learn . . . so very much from what we consume.”

  “You know something I need to know, don’t you? How did Mr. Keyne—?”

  Dís clapped eagerly. “The servant of the trees? Dís-One knows him, yes. The servant deals with outsiders, has paid his tribute, and sung songs to soothe us.”

  “Mr. Keyne sang to you, too?”

  “We like the Sky-song very much. Dís-One learned much.” He clapped even more excitedly and then stared into my cares. “You care about the Sky-song, too. Interesting. Dís-One can help you ever so much.”

  “For a price?”

  The death otter nodded.

  “What is it? You kinda got my one-hit wonder with the toast song.”

  “I have many strange and uncomfortable thoughts to give. Will trade. You share a strange and uncomfortable thought with me, I show you one in return. I shall even let you keep both!”

  “Do I really want to know what you consider strange and uncomfortable?”

  Dís smiled in a way that didn’t even remotely make me feel more at ease with this plan. “Share, and if I truly am satisfied, I may give you a clue.”

  “A clue?”

  “The kushtaka are tricksters, after all. We always lie, and we never lie depending on what is most fun.” I remembered Mr. Keyne’s words. Everyone lies, Jessie. “That makes us at least half-true, yes?”

  I guess half the truth was better than nothing at all. “Fine. I . . . have uncomfortable thoughts about a much older man.” Images of Wyatt flooded my mind. “I know it makes me a stereotypical teenage girl, but there’s this one vampire I can’t stop thinking about . . . even though an old guy pretending to be me landed the boy that I thought I wanted.” Gah! That sounded even more pathetic out loud.