Brimstone and Lily (Legacy Stone Adventures) (11 page)

Ah. That’s what they’re doin’. Figures. Be careful. They have somethin’ up their tiny sleeves.

Jasper and I had been having a silent discussion about the best thing to do, and now came the time to try it. The idea popped up from something I’d seen in a South Seas exhibit at a museum. If it worked, we’d have the bulge on the Bullies. If it failed, I should still have a chance to try something else. Yelling and whooping like an Injun, I sprinted at the blued line of Bullies, throwing Morphageus with all my might.

My magick sword melted into a new form in mid-air. The toothed boomerang sawed the head from the nearest mage. As he disappeared into smoky lavender flame the spell collapsed. So did the stinky things behind us. All of them smacked into the ground with a single wet thud.
Somebody’s gonna come out here in the mornin’ and wonder, ‘What the heck went on last night?’
We were upon the other four Bullies before they could react.

No longer holding hands, they were vulnerable. Romulus mirrored one and kicked another. It thrilled me to see that a boomerang really would come back to your hand.
Now that’s magick.
Eddie found a crowbar from the pile of old construction material at the Monument’s base. It didn’t kill the Bully he hit, but the shrimp’s face turned into a squashed toadstool. Re-armed with Morphageus, I sent him to whatever villain-afterlife he had to look forward to. The pair of remaining Bullies scampered for the rusty iron door of the Monument. I caught both of them with the boomerang at the same time and away they went. Because they’d been so close to the door, the weapon had no room to turn back to me. It clattered against the marble wall and fell to the ground.

While I rushed to pick it up my friends whooped and hollered. One moment they’d been staring at capture, or worse, and the next they’d wiped out their foes. Not bad for two kids, a former pooch, and a stout mouse. They slapped backs, shook hands, hugged, and howled at the moon (okay, nobody but Romulus did that). Bending down to pick up the boomerang, I wanted to feel the same way. When I stood up I held the sword again, but I also held worries. The Bullies wanted us here for some reason. None of the ideas that first popped into my mind were at all good for us.

After sheathing the sword, I tried to shush the cheering bunch. It took a lot of grabbing, poking, and nagging, but I got them to be quiet. “We’re not outta the woods yet,” I reminded them.

“What do we do, then?” asked Eddie. “Stay at the river and wait for the ship or find some other way to cross?”

“Longer we sits here, mo’ likely the Merchantry send more Bullies,” said Romulus.

Ernie shook his furry head. “Can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but we should wait for that low-life Pitcairn. Romulus told the truth. He’s never stranded us before.”

“He’s too late,” I said, looking around. “We’re out of time. They know we’re here. More trouble will come.” I stared up at the Monument. It loomed up about 150 feet tall, of white marble. Temporary wooden stairs led up to an iron door in the base. When finished it would be a jaw-dropping 500 feet, folks said. The war and stupid grown-up arguments over donors had stopped construction. For more than four years it’d stood silent, no work being done. My magicked eyes could see all the way to the top, to the raw edge where rusty frames and derricks jutted into the summer night air. I could make out something else, too, something that made me catch my breath.

Venoma plummeted toward us.

The toothy drooling thing shook the ground when she landed, flat-footed, twenty feet behind Romulus. Taller and broader than him, she seemed to have grown since I’d seen her at Ford’s. This might’ve been her true form, freed of the need to pass as Mad Molly. She bounded forward with a mighty leap and batted Romulus aside before he knew she was there. I watched him roll across the grass and lie still. No sign of Ernie, but I could hear him cussing a blue streak, so I knew he must’ve been all right. Ignoring Eddie, who had dove to the ground, still clutching his crowbar, Venoma bared her triple row of fangs and leapt straight at me.

But she hit empty air. The instant she’d smacked Romulus a wish had flashed through my mind, that I could jump as far as her. Jasper’s cheery “No problem, girlie!” was followed by the Morphageus flowing down my body like quicksilver. Metal coiled into huge shiny steel springs around my feet. As Venoma jumped at me, I boinged a good twelve feet into the air, coming to earth behind her. Those springs gave me a soft landing, changed back into the sword, and flipped into my hands. My leathery attacker turned with cobra-like speed to see where I’d gone. That saved her head, for the mighty cut I aimed at her neck missed, zinging through empty air.

I barely remember our battle. Just a blur. She proved to be every bit as quick as Jasper and the Legacy Stone made me. All my thrusts and cuts bit into nothing. Her every counter-attack with tooth and claw either got parried by the blade or blocked by the small shield that Morphageus would become in an eye’s blink. What kept me in the fight, despite every muscle crying in pain and fatigue, was knowing that my friends were doomed if I failed. That and the magick power of the Stone. Jasper giggled like the little kid he’d once been
. At least somebody’s havin’ fun.
While he did that he also showed me visions of several possible strikes that Venoma might make next, guiding me to defend the most likely. My parry arrived each and every time.

The demon, or whatever it was, broke off and squatted just out of sword range. Cocking her head, she croaked, “Surrender yon Stone, and thy valiant self, man-spawn. I must needs take thee to the Proprietor. If thou dost this, thy companions shalt live.”

Those companions now stood behind me. Romulus woozy but upright, Ernie back on his shoulder. Eddie stood tall beside them, ready to start swinging his crowbar if I gave the word. “I don’t know who this Proprietor is,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt, “but if you work for him, I’ll have to pass on the honor. As for my companions, you’ll have to earn their lives.”
Ooh, Verity the Valiant, givin’ as good as she gets!

“I accept thy challenge,” she said, almost with a laugh. A gob of foul yellow slobber shot out of her horrible mouth with a steamy hiss and hit Eddie dead in the face. His every muscle seized up and he dropped like a felled tree. Before I could react she’d slithered past me, scooped him up, and bounded onto the Monument’s stairs.

“Thus thy choice,” she said, holding the limp Eddie in one hideous hand like a rag doll. “Present thyself to the Proprietor before the turn of the full moon, if thou desirest ever to see this child alive.”

One enormous foot banged open the enormous iron door behind her. A sick greenish light came from inside the Monument, silhouetting her. Venoma backed up into it. As soon as the swirling radiance touched her, she and her prey vanished.

The light blacked out. So did I.

Eddie was gone.

9/ The Dread Pirate Roberta

I tried to imagine a fierce pirate with a tough-talking parrot for a girlfriend. It gave ‘henpecked’ a whole new slant.

Next thing I knew I lay sprawled face-first on the grass, my throat so raw from screaming that no sound came out. Though I’d thought that my muscles couldn’t have hurt any more than they already did, that turned out to be wrong. From straining to move the whole world to get Eddie back, I’d reduced myself to a giant mass of pain. My hands felt broken from pounding the ground. Dirt filled my fingernails from clawing at it, too. Goo from my nose and eyes ran down my face. A roaring in my ears drowned out everything my friends seemed to be saying to me.

Somebody gripped me from behind in a bear-hug as I tried to stand and rush the Monument. Since a four-inch tall mouse wouldn’t be up to that, I gathered that it was Romulus and not Ernie. And it had to have been a friend, because Jasper made no move to defend me. That didn’t stop me from kicking his shins and biting his fingers.

“Lemme go!” I tried to shriek. It came out as a whisper. “We gotta help him!”

“He gone, chile,” Romulus said with amazing gentleness, as if quieting a panicked horse. “When Venoma gets ‘em, they stays got.”

“I don’t care! We gotta try!”

Ernie cleared his throat and hopped from Romulus’ shoulder to mine. “The ostium’s closed. As soon as they disappeared it shut down. It’s designed to do that, so nobody can follow.”

Curiosity started calming my rage. “Ostium? What’s that?”

“A sort of gate that lets the Honourable Merchantry travel between worlds. No one can use it but those buggers. Step through one and it takes yer where yer wants to be in the blink of an eye.”

I began to breathe a little easier and felt my bunched muscles relax a bit. “Travel between worlds?”
Seems like every time I get the answer to one question tonight, three more pop up in its place.
“How many worlds can there be?”

Romulus let go of me. I slumped back down to the sun-baked earth, but didn’t let my eye off the Monument door. He said, “The Comp’ny’s magick’s made ev’ry nation into its own world, miss.”

I thought of the odd stories folks told about the Monument, how people in antique clothes would walk out of it. “So if I was to go to, say, the Papal Fief, what would I find?”

Ernie and Romulus traded glances. They seemed to be having some sort of unspoken debate. After a long pause Ernie said, “Fer starters, it ain’t June 1862 there.”

My tired mouth managed to make a
pthht
sound. “Ain’t polite to tease kids.”

“I only wish I were teasin’, ducky. No matter where yer go there---Rome, Florence, Venice—it’s June of 1508.”

The face I made felt the same as you might see in a lunatic asylum. Just when I’d started to accept that there were magick swords, horrible-toothed monsters, and Bullies in my world, this new thing hit me. “1508? Like Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci 1508?”

“Exactly like that.”

“What about Imperium Sacra? Iberion? Gaulle?”

“1642, 1488, and 1804. Same month and day as here.”

I gave him another
pthht!
“That’s crazy!”

Romulus nodded. “We ain’t sayin’ otherwise, chile. The Hon’rable Comp’ny’s ten diff’rent kinds of crazy.”

“What? You expect me to believe that every country in the world lives in it a different year? How come nobody knows about this?”

“Some do,” said Ernie. “The ones that work for the Merchantry know it. Others, like us in the Equity, have found out but keep it a secret until we can undo it all. Some people suspect, but refuse to let their minds accept it.”

Romulus stuck his mirror back in his pocket. “And some folks tries to tell. They’s the ones that gets Bully visits.”

I still couldn’t buy all of this. “Impossible! People travel between countries every day. Even if you could make this happen, it’d all come apart in a week.”

Ernie shrugged. “We’re told that every country has a glamour spell. When yer go there, and the Merchantry strictly controls travel now, you’re made to think that you’ve stayed in your own world and time. Yer do your business, have a holiday, and so forth, seein’ and hearin’ only what you expect to see.”

“How can the Merchantry control travel? Or anything else? I’ve never even heard tell of these people and you’re sayin’ they have charge of the whole shootin’ match.”

Swooping Ernie off of my shoulder, Romulus said, “Have to school her later. More trouble comin’.” With that he nodded east. I turned my head, afraid of what new horror might be heading our way.
What now? Can’t they just be happy with the misery they’ve already spread on me?

Since no work was being done on the Monument, the government had decided to use the wide grassy space around it to pasture Army cattle. When we’d made our way west while being chased by the Bullies, we’d come in from the north. The herds had been penned up farther south and east, so we’d not run into them. Now they were about to run into us.

Cows…we were being attacked by a thousand mooing cows.

On our farm in Maryland we’d had cows. It had been four years since we’d moved, but I still remembered their fuzzy flanks and sloppy snoots. Our cows had been like cute puppies the size of hay wagons, content to munch on grass and submit to my clumsy milking. But the cows coming at us now must’ve been the ones who’d had enough. Maybe they were Confederate cattle, in the pay of Jeff Davis. Whatever the reason, they ran at us as if we were the cause of every bovine indignity ever suffered by a cud-chewer.

“Are they witched?” I asked, backing up as fast as my wobbly limbs would take me.

“No,” said Jasper, “just whipped. There’s men behind ‘em. The Honourable Merchantry never uses magick except when it must. Too valuable to waste.”

“Nice of you to wake up,” I mumbled, heading for the Monument stairs.

“You’re not the only one tired around here.”

“I thought you were the all-powerful magick blade of destiny?” I could see that we weren’t going to make it to the safety of the Monument. The cows had surprised us.
Now there’s an epitaph.

“Nothin’s all-powerful, especially in magick. You really didn’t read your contract, did you?”

“Sorry, I was too busy havin’ an attack of the heebie-jeebies.”

Romulus pulled me back against the Monument wall, hoping that the herd would bend around us. I had no such hope. There were too many sharp horns sticking out of the oncoming mass to miss us. Back a ways I could see the men that Jasper had told me of. They were rough-looking soldiers. At least, they wore Union uniforms. Who knew what their true occupation might be? Their paychecks most likely came from the Merchantry somehow. Whips in hand, they were driving the cattle straight at us, without a doubt.

I brought up Morphageus in its shield-form, but I knew that it would just stop the horns. It couldn’t protect us against the enormous weight and momentum of that many beasts. We’d be crushed flat. One of those men would pull the Stone from my dead neck and deliver it to the Proprietor. My great world-saving quest had lasted all of two hours.