Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Two - Interrogations

Fighting one on one was a lot easier than twelve or so on one.

Which, now that I said it, was a rather obvious statement.

I ducked under a swing from Big Green’s bat, then hopped back a few steps until I was closer to the back lines. A grenoil behind me was swinging a chain around, which just seemed terribly dangerous. I knew how painful a whap with a flail could be from my time in Threewells.

I heard the crunch of gravel shifting as the grenoil behind me stepped up, so I hopped up and kicked back with both legs, catching him in the shin.

The grenoil croaked as he stumbled forwards.

I handed on my tummy, but had just enough time to spin around and bunch my legs up against my chest so that when the grenoil landed, it was onto my feet.

His face was real close to mine for a bit, so I got a nasty faceful of alcohol-smelling breath. “Ew,” I said a moment before pushing a hefty chunk of stamina into my legs.

The grenoil went flying away until he crashed back-first into a buddy and they went down in a heap.

I didn’t have time to enjoy my victory before another was jumping towards me, knife-first.

I rolled over, picked up my spade and bounced to my feet just in time to parry a swing with the haft. There were so many of them! And they weren’t being nice and taking turns either.

The man, an actual human in dirty rags, probably thought I was gonna back up to make space. So he didn’t expect it when I reached up, held on to the rim of my hat, bent my bun ears back, and rammed his nose with my forehead as hard as I could.

The poor man went down with a very smushed nose.

“Sorry!” I said a moment before I had to dodge to the side as another grenoil came at me with a bat.

I blocked his second swing, both hands on the shaft of my spade, but the impact and shaking made me lose my grip on my weapon.

I watched my spade clatter to the ground and the grenoil grinned at me. He started to pull his bat back.

I slapped him full-on in the face so hard that his face twisted to the side and my entire hand felt like I’d pressed it to a stove.

Two more were moving at me, with knives and clubs, and I heard more moving in from behind.

I jumped, used one of their heads as a springboard, then skipped off the walls of a shop to land back down behind the bulk of the group. I had my back near one of the rusty lamp posts along the side of the street. It would maybe keep them from hitting me from behind... I hopped.

“Get her, dammit!” Big Green roared.

Lightning shot out of the shop, nailing one of the humans in the chest and sending him down in a writhing heap.

“And someone kill those two!” the man screamed.

Then a couple of grenoil pulled up little crossbows and fired into the shop. I heard Amaryllis squawking in protest as she no doubt ducked out of the way.

I looked around. I was down a spade and the only other weapons I had were in my pack.

A grenoil tried to sneak up behind me, but I caught sight of him from the corner of my eye. With a quick half-twist and a snap-kick, I rammed the sole of a foot against the lamp.

The rusty base snapped and the two-meter long pole crashed onto the grenoil’s head.

That... looked like a weapon to me.

I spun backwards, grabbed onto the shaft of the lamp with both hands, and brought it up and around to face off against the greater number of adversaries.

Some of those I’d knocked down earlier were back on their feet, and they didn’t look very happy.

“Come on guys,” I said. “Can’t we talk this out?”

“I heard they love Buns at the brothels,” one of the men said. “I wonder how much you’d go for.”

Lucky for me, he was one of the closer ones, and he was so busy being a big mean jerk that he didn’t react in time to stop the heavy twin-lamped end of the pole from crashing onto his head with a resounding clang and a shattering of glass.

Another grenoil rushed at me, so I twisted the lamp around and poked it at his head so that his neck was caught between the two lights at the end. He made a weird sound when his mouth smashed into the bar joining the two lights, and an ever stranger one when I pulled him towards me and delivered a stamina-heavy Spartan-kick to his tummy.

I yanked the pole back, then spun the base around in a wide, sweeping arc that had the other thugs backing off a step or two.

I counted eight left around me, and three more farther away flinging magic and bolts into the shop.

Amaryllis must have gotten tired of ducking because the next thing I knew a deafening boom shook the street and forks of lightning that were as big around as tree trunks flashed into being, each one connecting to different parts of grenoil across the street.

The three ranged thugs went down as smoking heaps.

I’d need to check on them later, but Amaryllis’ move reminded me of something.

I had magic too.

Grinning, I pushed mana into my hands and saw them start to glow. The extra magic interacted weirdly with the aura of my Cleaning spell, making a bubble around me start to glow with little motes of happy light.

“Oh World,” one of the thugs whispered.

Then I started thinking hot thoughts and suddenly everything was a lot warmer and a haze of fiery mana started to make the air shift around me.

The thugs didn’t seem so sure anymore.

Big Green, on the other hand, didn’t seem to care. “Are you lot cowards? Zis is just some uptight rich girl,” he said.

“Actually, I’m pretty sure my family was always in a lower tax bracket,” I corrected him.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

He moved towards me, so I flung my lamp at him as hard as I could and watched him catch the pole awkwardly in the crook of his elbows.

While he stumbled back a step, I ran over to the nearest thug, wrapped a hand around his where he was holding a knife and pulled him closer so that my knee could get better acquainted with the spot between his legs where those safety courses told girls to hit bad guys.

The man crumbled with a wheeze.

I swung my fists forwards in a quick one-two jab towards the next two, sending two tiny and rather lame fireballs at them.

One of them batted his out of the air with a club, but the other caught the fireball full on in the chest.

His raggedy jacket went up in a burst of flames that smelled vaguely like fish oil.

I gasped as the thug screamed and twisted around, working hard to take off his coat while also flailing.

“Stop, drop and roll!” I screamed, but I didn’t think he heard me over his own cries of alarm.

The thugs looked real nervous now. Maybe I was doing a good enough job that they’d cut their losses and run? Some of them certainly seemed to be thinking about it.

“You’re still not done?” Amaryllis asked.

A few heads turned towards the shop where my harpy friend stomped out. Her feathers were well and truly poofed, and little snaps of static were going off in the air around her. I could almost smell the weird tang of electrified air from where I was.

“There are a lot of them,” I said. “And I don’t want to hurt them too much.”

“Oh? Don’t worry. I can hurt them for you!”

I saw a pair of grenoil, younger ones off to the side who had been skirting the fight more than anything, start to edge away.

When Awen burst out of the shop, shards of glass spinning in the air around her and crossbow primed, they turned heel and ran.

“Awen?” I asked.

“Awa, I figured out some Glass magic!” she said from within her teeny tiny blizzard. It wasn’t that big, maybe two dozen pieces of glass all spinning rather lazily and wibbly around her, but it was still kind of impressive.

I looked at the thugs, and felt that the odds were a bit better now. A lot more of them looked nervous too. “You guys can still run, you know?” I said. “Um, it would probably be best before Cholondee comes. She’s a dragon, and dragons are a bit weird about eating people that slight them.”

“Just, shut up!” Big Green said as he leapt for me.

A bolt of electricity connected with his back, and a glass-tipped bolt speared through his leg. The grenoil, already moving forwards, crashed face-first into my heel as I spun into a tight heel-strike.

He crashed to the ground like a particularly lumpy sack of potatoes.

His buddies ran, some of them saying some very rude things as they decided that a life of crime wasn’t for them. At least, that’s what I hoped. They at least paused to pick up their buddies that had been knocked around a bit, all save for Big Green who was left on the ground where he groaned into the cobbles.

“Should we finish him off?” Amaryllis asked.

“Amaryllis!” I gasped.

“What? The least he can do is give us a bit of experience.”

I frowned at my friend until she rolled her eyes and looked away. “I was kidding... mostly. This bag of dirt has cost us a quarter hour already, and could have hurt you, or any of us. He can at least have the courtesy to answer some questions.”

Amaryllis pushed Big Green over with the top of a talon until the grenoil was resting on his back, right next to the lip of the sidewalk. “I’m not, I’m not telling ya anyzing,” he spat.

“Come now, just a few little questions,” Amaryllis said.

“Awa, my, my uncle told me stories about how he got some bad people to talk, um, maybe I could try what he told me,” Awen said.

That sounded way better than whatever Amaryllis had in mind. “Sure! I’d love to see you try,” I said.

Awen flushed and moved closer to the big grenoil before dropping onto her knees next to him. “Um, are you okay?” she asked the guy.

“Screw you, human,” he said.

These thugs were so rude. Were they raised... I looked around and let the thought drop.

Awen, in the meantime, opened up her little shoulder bag and pulled out a pair of pliers. She set them on the ground next to her.

“You think you can torture me, girl?”

Next, she pulled out some screw-drivers.

“I’m not telling any of ya nothing.”

Awen placed her heavy hammer next to the pliers. “It would be nice if you did talk,” she said. “Then we could give you a potion and you could leave us all alone.”

“When my damned coward boys come back, I’m gonna teach all of you a lesson!”

Awen sighed and reached into her bag. She grabbed something, looked down, then shrugged and placed it next to her hammer.

The wand of cure hysteria stood tall and proud next to Awen’s other tools. It was pretty big. I was surprised it even fit in her bag.

“I... I... what are you going to do with that?!” Big Green asked.

Blinking, Awen picked up the wand. “This?” She obviously pushed some magic into it because it started to humm as it vibrated.

“I’ll talk! I’ll talk!”

I looked to the side where Amaryllis had her face covered by her arm feathers. The poor thing, for all her bravado she couldn’t look at someone being tortured, even if it was clear that Awen wouldn’t actually do anything.

“So, mister Big Green,” I said in as intimidating a voice as I could manage. I pointed to him. “Why were you so mean earlier?”

“I, I can’t say,” he said.

Awen’s wand buzzed louder.

“Rainnewt! It was Rainnewt!”

***