by Peter Glenn
“Go on,” I implored.
“Well, it says, ‘To all who honor our queen, great rewards await you in this life eternal.’ There’s more on the back. Something about binding things together, but I hadn’t gotten very far on that part just yet.”
“‘To all who honor our queen?’” I repeated.
A sick feeling was starting to form in my gut as the disparate pieces were starting to all come together for me, but it wasn’t enough. Not yet. I needed more information to be sure.
I glanced down at my watch. It was ten o’clock. A little late in the night to do anything about it for now. True, I was on quite the time crunch. Three of my seventy-two hours had already been wasted, but I still had to be strategic about the whole thing.
“Yeah,” Rick said. “Weird, right? Who could they be talking about? There are few queens of note these days, and none of them are Irish. I couldn’t see any of them being behind assassination attempts of someone as lowly as me.”
“An excellent point, Rick,” I said, holding my spoon aloft. I pushed my earlier thoughts to the side. “And something we can talk about in more detail tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow?” Rick’s face soured. “Look, I appreciate you saving me and all, but like I said, I’m out of here first thing tomorrow morning. I’m too close to finishing my thesis to die at the end of some weird guy’s sword.”
For a moment, I wasn’t sure if he was referring to Lanky Guy or me in that sentence, but I supposed it didn’t really matter.
“Come on, Rick,” I pleaded. “We’re stuck in this together whether you like it or not. Think about it. They came after you. They couldn’t have known I’d be there to help you. In fact, they probably assumed I wouldn’t be. Whoever they are, they want you dead.” I puffed up my chest. “And like it or not, buddy, I’m the best defense you’ve got right now.”
He snubbed his nose at me and turned around. “I could just go to the cops, you know,” he said.
“The cops?” I scoffed. “And what would they do, exactly? Witnesses would have spotted you running away from the crime scene, too. They’d lock you away as an accomplice. Then where would you be?”
“Ugh!” Rick spun on his heels to face me, head fuming. “I hate it when you’re right.”
“Meh,” I replied, unable to hold back my grin. “Happens to lots of people.”
“Americans,” Yuri said, shaking his head. “You’re all crazy.”
Sevin just burst out laughing.
Rick’s face was beet red again, but he said nothing, and his shoulders finally went slack as the tension left his body. He stabbed his spoon into the ice cream container and grabbed the last of it, slowly licking his spoon and glaring at each of us in turn.
I shook my head a few times and went rummaging around in Mei’s cabinets again. That ice cream had hit the spot, but I needed something a bit stronger to fend off the night’s eccentricities.
There, on a lower shelf, I spotted my quarry near the back. My hands grasped the black bottle and pulled it out.
“What’s that?” Sevin asked, nose scrunched.
“Healing bourbon,” I said, grinning like an idiot.
“Non, mon ami!” Sevin said, raising a finger in warning. “Mei will kill you if you drink that! You must put it back!”
“Is expensive,” Yuri added, nodding. “Little man not smart.”
“Nonsense,” I chided, waving a hand at them dismissively. “She’s sure to forgive me for a little indiscretion after I save her life, right?”
All three of my companions were staring at me, shaking their heads. Rick included.
“Whatever.” I popped the cork and took a pull of the brownish liquid in spite of their glares.
I felt the magical brew go to work immediately. It was far from a cure-all - only a true magician had that kind of healing power - but it sure did a lot to take the edge off my numerous injuries. I could already feel my skin stitching itself back together and my bruises subside even from that one little sip. I took another drink.
After several long pulls on the bottle, I looked over my wounds. My stomach was still red from blood, but I couldn’t feel the cut anymore, and the fang marks on my arm had receded quite a bit. I couldn’t even feel the bruise on the back of my head anymore, and my legs were no longer burning and achy. Once my own restorative abilities kicked in, I should be right as rain.
Well, as right as I ever was. This was me we were talking about.
“So,” I said, putting the rest of the bourbon - maybe a quarter of a bottle - back in its hiding spot. I hiccupped once. “Anyone got any good ghost stories to lull the rest of us to sleep?”
“You want stories of ghost?” Yuri said, looking perplexed. “I will never understand Americans.”
I patted him on the shoulder. “It’s okay, big man. We don’t understand you, either.”
He gave me a broad smile.
“I have one,” it was Rick’s voice.
We all looked at the small man like he’d grown three heads.
“You do?” I replied. “Oh, I have to hear this.”
Rick looked a little flustered and lowered his head. “Well, it’s more of an old legend, from ancient Egypt, really. It’s nothing much.”
“Oh come on, man! Just spill it already!” I begged.
“Yes, mon ami! I must know ze details.”
Rick stared straight at the Frenchman. “Are… are you sure?”
“Oui, monsieur.”
Rick straightened up a little again. “Well, okay, if you’re sure.” He took a deep breath and rummaged around in his briefcase for a moment, pulling out a loose sheet of paper.
“It all started three thousand years ago, during the reign of Pharaoh…”
9
“Ugh, my head,” I said, blinking a few times to ward off the light all around me. “Just five more minutes, Mom.”
“I’m not your mom,” someone said. It was Rick, and it sounded like he was right next to my face as he spoke.
I shot upright as the previous night’s activities came flooding back into my brain. “What the…? Where? Huh?”
“Easy, Damian,” Rick said, holding a hand out like he was trying to steady me. “I guess that bourbon hit you harder than I thought.”
My head felt a little faint from the sudden change in altitude, and I did swoon a little, but I managed to catch myself. I looked about the room. Sevin and Yuri were up and chatting in a corner by themselves. Rick was a few steps away, grinning at me.
Well, at least he hadn’t actually tried to bolt this time. Maybe he believed me after all. Doubtful, but hey, whatever the reason, at least he was still here.
“Heh.” I smiled back at Rick. “So, ready to head out?”
Rick nodded. “As ever. It’s twelve o’clock.”
“Twelve?” My head spun. More than half a day was already gone. How had I overslept so much? I pushed the thought from my head. “We’d better get going, then.”
Rick put a hand on my chest. “And just where are we going, Damian?”
“Oh yeah.” I let out a slight chuckle. “That would probably help, huh?”
Rick nodded.
“To Canada, of course. Just south of Vancouver, BC.”
Rick shot me an icy glare and folded his hands in front of his chest. “Canada? What for?”
“That inscription from last night, remember? About the queen and the rewards? I have a lead I want to follow up on.”
“A lead?” Rick sneered. “Care to be more specific? I’d rather not jaunt off on something as flimsy as a lead.”
I waved dismissively at him. “Let’s just get there first. You’ll understand when we get there. Promise.” I wanted to tell him more, but if I told him we were going to go see a mage he would have just balked at me, so I kept my mouth shut.
Rick rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Whatever, Damian.” He sighed. “Just so long as it’s far away from here, I guess it’s okay.”
Now that, I could agree w
ith. Mei’s bar was safe enough, but there would still be cops out there patrolling for an Asian guy and a white dude, asking about last night’s murder. The further away we got from that nonsense, the better.
“Right. Well, let’s get going, then.” I picked up my katana and Grax’thor from their spots on the floor and belted them into place, then ran a hand through my hair.
“Shall we?” I held out a hand to him.
Rick shrugged. “Well, it’s not like I have any better ideas.”
I nodded once and headed for the door to Mei’s, turning once to make sure he was actually following this time. He was. I heard him grumble something about how this whole thing wasn’t worth the money I’d promised him, and I snickered a little at that.
Ah, hell. I’d almost forgotten I owed the guy a king’s ransom. Somehow, I was going to have to make good on that soon. Maybe Sevin and Yuri would chip in? But then, Yuri was a bit of a refugee himself, and I’d never seen Sevin order anything more expensive than a Shirley Temple, so I doubted either of them would be able to cover the five-thousand-dollar tab.
Still, it was nice to know that after a good night’s rest, Rick was back to being all about business. I guess a death scare only went so far these days.
Besides, there were other worries. Like how to get to Canada. It wasn’t like we could just walk there.
“Oh, dang,” I said over my shoulder, patting my pockets in a feigning motion. “Can we take your car? Mine’s... in the shop.”
I didn’t have a car, of course, but I didn’t want him to know that just yet. Somehow, that felt like a second night after saving someone’s life conversation, you know?
More grumbling from Rick. “My car? Ugh. Fine. It’s parked several blocks from here, but it’s not too far.”
I smiled and started for the door, but Rick put his hand on me to stop me and looked me up and down. “But no way are you getting into my car wearing those… rags.”
For the first time since the battle, I looked down at my clothes. My undershirt was in tatters, with a wide slash down the abdomen, and several tears in the sleeve where the dobhar-chu had bit me. A rather large bloodstain covered a majority of the fabric as well. My pants looked to be relatively unscathed other than scuff marks on the knees and a water stain on the cuffs at the bottom. Not exactly a great look.
I thought about stopping by my apartment to change and get ready, but immediately discarded that idea. If our enemies knew where Rick worked, they probably knew where I lived, too. That made any known locations all too dangerous for us to hang out in.
There was nothing for it. Guess I’d have to hit the shops in town.
At least I still had a little cash on me. I just hoped it’d be enough to get me some clothes and food and get us to Canada and back.
“Solid point, Rick.” I nodded at him. “Let’s hit up a clothing shop on the way. I know just the place.”
Another roll of Rick’s eyes. He did that a lot. “Ugh, fine. Whatever. Just so long as you change out of that hideous shirt.”
Hideous? It wasn’t that bad. I’d worn worse. “With pleasure,” I said.
The two of us headed up the stairs and out into the daylight. It was a bright, sunny day in Seattle, and my poor eyes burned in the harsh noon light, so I put my hand over my eyes to guard them from the worst of it.
For once, I wasn’t lying. The Seattle T-Shirt Shop was close by. We made it there in record time.
“A t-shirt shop?” Rick said, wrinkling his nose.
I grinned at him. “Hey, they’re comfy and don’t restrict your movement. I might need to fight in one later. You never know.”
Rick groaned, but he followed me in anyway. I took another look at his sad, bluish, button-down shirt and brown jacket and wondered if the guy had ever seen any real excitement outside of last night. Well, by the time this all was over, I was certain he’d see plenty more. I only hoped he’d be up for it.
My eyes quickly scanned the racks and frowned. There was plenty of Seattle-themed merchandise. Sonics T’s, Seahawks gear and the like, but no band t-shirts. At least none that I could see.
I searched through rack after rack and finally found a Nirvana shirt with the lead singer on it. I should have guessed. It is Seattle after all. Oh well, it would have to do. I didn’t have the luxury of going back home and getting a real band shirt.
To the cashier’s credit, he didn’t even flinch when I walked up to him in my dirty rags and handed over a few wadded up ten dollar bills that had easily seen better days. I was pretty sure one of them even had blood on it. But the cashier either didn’t notice or was kind enough not to care.
Either way, a few minutes later, we were on our way again.
Rick side-eyed me a little bit. He obviously wasn’t pleased with my clothing choice, but that almost made it better, in a way. Shaking his head, he said, “Let’s get going already. My car is in a garage three blocks away from here.”
“Sure thing, Rick.” I nodded and started after him.
But about two blocks down the road, my eyes spotted a patisserie, and my stomach let out a loud growl.
Rick glared at me, hands on his hips. “What now?”
“It’s just… can we stop here?” I pointed at my tummy. “Haven’t had lunch.”
Rick rolled his eyes again and sighed, but he relented.
Once inside the shop, my eyes reeled as my senses went into overload. This was the famed bakery Hot Babe’s Goods. They were known all around the state for their confectionary masterpieces.
I saw several eclairs peeking out of the case, and they were calling my name.
“Three eclairs, please.” I told the cashier with a toothy grin. “And two creme puffs. Those are my second favorite. Anything for you, Rick?”
Rick folded his arms and shook his head. “More sweets, Damian? First the ice cream last night and now pastries? Don’t you ever eat anything normal?”
I shrugged. “A simple no would have sufficed.”
The cashier gingerly placed the treats into a plastic box. “That’ll be $16.24,” she told me.
I stuck my hand into my pocket and winced. That would just about clean me out. But it was worth it. One, because my stomach really was hungry, and two, because it would help us out with where we were going.
I placed two more crumpled ten dollar bills on her counter, and she handed me the box and the change, along with a receipt.
“Thank you,” she said with a slight bow and a wink. She held onto my hand for a second longer than was customary as she did so.
I did a double take. Was she… hitting on me? It didn’t matter. I didn’t have time to find out. I smiled back at her, and we left the store.
“Are the interruptions over now?” Rick asked in an annoyed tone.
“Sorry,” I said, giving him my best sheepish look. “We can go to the car now.”
Rick shook his head again, and we went along our merry way. I held the little box of treats under my arm to keep it safe.
It didn’t take long for us to reach the garage and Rick’s car. I gave off a low whistle when I saw it. It was a silver sporty number with a spoiler on the back.
“Mercedes,” I said. “Nice choice.”
“Yeah, well it’s an older model, and I got a good deal on it, but it’s still my baby. Just don’t get any of your ‘lunch’ on the interior,” Rick muttered, scowling.
I winced a little but nodded.
Without further ado, we piled into the car and got going. It didn’t take very long before I heard Rick grumbling again.
“We’re gonna need gas if we’re gonna reach Canada,” he told me. “Hang on a minute.”
He pulled into a nearby station and stopped the car, then looked expectantly at me.
“Change your mind about the eclairs?”
“Ugh, no. I need your card so I can buy gas.”
My blood chilled. The gig was up. I was had. It had been fun while it lasted.
“Umm… it’s your car, right? So you sh
ould pay for it,” I insisted, saying the first thing that came to mind.
“But it’s your friend we’re saving. So you should pay.”
“True…” The guy had a good point, there. My mind raced. I had to think of something fast. “It’s just I, uh… I left my card back at my apartment.” I flashed him a pained smile.
That part was true. The fact that I had about twelve dollars on it was also true, but not really the point.
Rick scowled. “Fine.” He threw up his hands in disgust. “I’ll pay this time. But I’m adding it to what you owe me.”
“Fine.” I spat back. I harrumphed and averted my gaze. Not my best look, I’ll admit, but it made me feel a little better in the moment.
Rick muttered something else under his breath that I didn’t quite catch, but he got out of the car and started to fill the tank anyway.
Phew. Crisis averted. For now, at least. Hopefully, we wouldn’t need anything else between now and when we reached our destination. And then? Well, then I’d figure it out. I wasn’t sure what to do then, either, but maybe my Canadian friend would help out.
While Rick was busy working the gas pump, I dug into one of the eclairs. It was just as magical as I’d always imagined it would be. The filling was thick, and the chocolate icing wasn’t too sweet, so it balanced the whole dish out instead of making it cloying.
A moment later, Rick got back in the car and shot me another dirty look.
“No icing on the interior,” I said in a mocking tone before he could have a chance to say it himself. “I remember.” I stuck my finger in my mouth to suck off a little custard that had gotten on it and held it up to him and smiled. “See?”
He grumbled again, but we got going.
“Are you sure you don’t want one?” I offered. “They’re amazing.”
“No thanks,” Rick said. “Let’s just get you to Canada to find that ‘dragon’ of yours.”
There was that heavy emphasis on “dragon” again. No matter. He didn’t have to believe in it, he just had to get me there. And fast. The fate of the world depended on it.
