Clementine
Now?
Meatloaf
No. Gin has yet to make contact.
Clementine
What about inside the vortex?
Meatloaf
Idiot! Do you want to END us all?
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Bran
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Bran stood before what he could only describe as a swirling wall of nightmares — he hated these things — a rotating vortex of shades keeping villages of new or retired Finder Keepers safe. Those who lived in Maelstrom Vault were the most zealous of the retired bunch; this is where Finder Keepers who became lost in their devotion to Lady Wraith lived. In his youth, Bran would have said every person beyond this vortex was a stage five clinger, but now he felt that was an insult to all clingers and high maintenance partners everywhere. Bran knew he needed to get it together; they'd be making the crossing soon and Danis needed a warning. He checked around to see if anyone was watching and slid his phone from his pant’s pocket.
Bran
Vortex - Ice - 6 - 1
Bran glanced around nervously, but the three dots appeared, pulling his gaze to the screen.
Unknown
Received.
“Ready for the hunger dome?” asked Jumbo Shrimp.
Bran sucked in a startled breath. “Hunger dome?” He turned to Jumbo Shrimp, quirking an eyebrow. “Didn’t Lady Wraith stop them hunting one another?” While he casually thumbed the phone into his pants pocket. “She put in a law or something, right?”
“Law of Pacifism, yeah, but I can always hope, right?” The barefooted Jumbo Shrimp flicked his eyes to the front left pocket of Bran’s khaki pants. “Who were you talking to?”
“Trying Cheddar again.”
Jumbo Shrimp cocked his head to the side. Meatloaf hadn’t been able to reach Cheddar since their meeting at the mall, other than a single sassy reply that had set her into a fit of rage; remembering it nearly forced a smile to Bran's lips, but he pushed it back down.
“Figured I might convince them to join us,” explained Bran.
“Look at you taking initiative, but don’t let Meatloaf know — she’ll get pissed.” Jumbo Shrimp slapped Bran on the shoulder with a chuckle.
That was going to bruise; he hated being old sometimes. Jumbo Shrimp was good people, well good when compared against other Finder Keepers anyway, if only Bran trusted him enough and had enough time to seed sleep him like Cheddar — he'd make an excellent ally, but the plan was already in motion and the risk too high.
Ice stopped on a slight rise and turned to face the gathered Finder Keepers. The vortex was a limousine’s length behind him, but shades reached out from it, trying to claw or suck at his energy — they were raw, untamed things, only fettered by the constant spin of the vortex. The rest of the Finder Keepers moved into two gaggles; first had Meatloaf in the center, Bran and Jumbo Shrimp to her left and right; second was the Fruit Basket cell, Kiwi, Mango, Mulberry, and their leader, Clementine.
“What are we doing here?” asked Clementine, thumbs latched behind the large buckle of her belt. Bandoliers, belts, and slings all covered her, and Bran was pretty sure the one looped around both legs was a climbing harness. “You called Lord Ice and the Fruit Baskets came.”
Ice didn’t lower his chin to meet her eyes. “As I expect of you,” he said with a sniff.
To her credit, Meatloaf didn’t snicker.
But Clementine growled at the frosty reply, though she kept it locked behind clenched teeth and shuttered lips.
Today, the control Clementine showed must have been enough for Ice to ignore the insult. “We have two objectives. The first is to verify the status of Maelstrom Vault and the artifacts it protects. The second is to find evidence of the traitor among us.”
Only a few of the Finder Keepers gasped, because it was obvious; the only way through the vortex was with the guidance of a Finder Keeper.
Jumbo Shrimp leaned into Bran. “You don’t think it was Cheddar, do you?”
“I do,” said Meatloaf. “They started all this.”
“No assumptions,” said Ice. “Get your keys out.”
The Finder Keepers dug around in various pouches and bags. Mulberry was the fastest, because as a Junker he had a shadesack at his command.
Bran dug his key out of his backpack, taking a moment to gaze at his newest lunch box hanging from its side. The faded image of cloud playing bears threatened to unearth the alpha memory, but with a swallow he pushed it back before tears gave him away. There it is; Bran pulled the house key attached to the palm tree key chain free. Every key through the vortex matched a house of the original town or subdivision — at least, that was his theory.
They were waiting for Mango and Kiwi to find their keys; Bran overheard Mulberry remind his sister to take her sunglasses off so she could more easily dig through her backpack full of eyewear to find it — Mango was a Specter and for all their lenses, they always seemed to Bran to be the most blind. Kiwi struggled as well; he even dared to exclaim that he couldn't find his key. Clementine motioned to Mulberry, apologized with a hasty "Lord Ice," and moved to assist. Bran knew the help Clementine offered was more about embarrassment and personal well-being than helping one another — it was the way of Finder Keepers.
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Jumbo Shrimp leaned his head towards Bran. “I thought we were disorganized.” Jumbo Shrimp’s snicker died as Ice shifted his gaze to him. “Sorry, Ice. I mean Lord Ice.” He checked and re-checked his Soul Stepper footwear artifacts, untying and retying knots as needed while a growing pile of drawing and painting tools piled beside Kiwi.
“Found it!” Kiwi said, holding up the key victorious.
“Good.” Ice turned, presenting his key in front of him; the shades still tried to grab hold of his energy, but the key repelled them and the rest of the Finder Keepers likewise presented keys and fell in behind him, leaving Kiwi to shove items into his bag quickly before the others could get too far into the vortex without him.
The shades whipped and howled all around them and, even with the keys, it was a disturbing passage; keys protecting the body but leaving the mind open to influence. Ambient magic of so many shades emanating negative emotions substantially slowed their steps and turned a distance, normally requiring a few moments at a brisk walking pace, into an endless trudge.
Darkness deepened with each step, the only true darkness the Dinner Table offered, but light flickered from the keys as the Finder Keepers held them high — presented out as if bearing crosses to ward of the fanged-undead in movies played on screens in the Kitchen. Aside from light, each key created a bubble of force that joined with the others to form a safe void within the steadily rotating vortex.
Starved shades lashed out, trying desperately to feast on their energy, disregarding the notion that anyone, even Finder Keepers, could be removed from their menu; but the combined protection of Lady Wraith and the keys were enough to keep the raw shades at bay. The crossing went on longer than Bran remembered and he was fairly certain they'd gotten lost in the darkness, but then the darkness pulled back, threshold crossed into Maelstrom Vault and they all gasped, even Ice, as if coming up after a too deep dive.
The village differed from City proper. The Law of Observation wasn’t in effect, as the only shades present were those broken in the vortex, so the constant fighting of the zealous Finder Keepers had destroyed much of what was; paved streets broken, a mixture of packed soil and rubble, and while the zealots had patched buildings together into single-floor shanties, the originals were long since demolished. The town hall was the exception, because it still stood and had once housed the now liberated Maelstrom Vault artifacts.
Normally, a resident would greet them, but Bran knew none would come; still, they paused, waiting for the village emissary to approach.
The slap of rubber on pavement yanked Bran's attention.
Jumbo Shrimp stepped into a pair of dropped flip-flops. “What? Even I’m not dumb enough to walk barefoot down that.” He pointed at the rubble strewn roadway. As the flip-flops adjusted to his feet, Jumbo Shrimp's posture shifted, and he stood with feet shoulder width apart, his neck and head slowly twisting in a scanning motion right to left as he actively observed the landscape ahead of them.
Ice muttered what Bran assumed was a curse, then took the first step down the road towards Maelstrom Vault’s hall. “Be on your guard. The Law of Pacifism is suppressed.”
“And beware the glare,” added Jumbo Shrimp, his scan uninterrupted.
"Lifeguard slogans, really? Get moving before I rip those damn rubber abominations off your feet." said Meatloaf with a snarl.
Jumbo Shrimp nodded, eyes still searching. “The vaulters probably just ended each other, like the old days before prophet Pear’s rebellion.”
The old days were well before Bran became a Finder Keeper — Jumbo Shrimp, however may look young, but he was the second oldest Finder Keeper in the Fry Factory, next to Cheddar. It was a reminder that physical appearance didn’t always equate to experience.
Ice didn't stop, but he grunted and spoke to those behind him. "Perhaps some smarter footwear is required? If the Law of Pacifism is suppressed, then the vaulters were likely attacked and our lady removed it to allow a defense."
“Beware the glare?” Meatloaf said as she hit the road behind Ice. “Are you trying to make fools of us? Control your artifacts.”
“I’m in control. Let’s go! A patrol will let me scan beyond the obstructions.” Jumbo Shrimp waited for Mulberry, asked if they had a flotation device in their shadesack, then fell in behind Kiwi and Mango.
Bran was ahead of Clementine, who acted as their rear guard until she got fed up with his shuffle pace and left him at the back. Good, better he was out of the way when the trap sprung. He checked Joe and Barbie; they were secure to his left and right suspenders. He guessed Joe would be more useful here, but either would boost his physical abilities and melt away some of his age. “Unless I need to unlatch the nuclear green option,” he muttered.
“What was that?” asked Clementine, turning back.
“Nothing, just checking that my lunch kits are ready to go.” They were passing the second row of shanty buildings, with the hall up ahead. Bran thought if they'd been much earlier there might have been bodies, but they'd all since crumbled from the initial attack — another shadow of Lady Wraith's realm. The bodies left behind after an end crumbled as if stone and then further to dust, while the bodies of those who cycle sank into the ground intact. A shrill whistle from Jumbo Shrimp brought the Finder Keepers to a halt.
“Cat prints,” said Meatloaf, kneeling over Jumbo Shrimp’s shoulder.
“Cat prints? The Catkith? How?” said Mango as she fumbled with the glasses hanging from the rings worked into her braided necklace.
“That leaf witch must have gained a foothold,” said Clementine.
Jumbo Shrimp continued his scan. “I count ten sets.”
Mulberry had a chocolate bar in his hand about to down it for a little extra energy. “What do you see, Mango?”
Thick-lensed spectacles pushed back on Mango's nose as she scanned the area alongside Jumbo Shrimp. “More like sixteen.”
“Then there's triple that number,” said Ice.
“What’s a Catkith?” Kiwi asked in a shrill voice, his eyes darting from one shanty to the next in search of an unknown enemy. He was the only Finder Keeper here newer than Bran, so it wasn’t surprising he didn’t know who the Catkith were — rare as they were in City.
“Animal worshippers and hybrids bound to the enemy.” Ice turned and conjured a spear from his blazer. “Alpha artifacts authorized.”
Alpha artifacts? Bran let out a breath — this was bad.
Alphas artifacts were a Finder Keeper’s prime artifact; the one with the strongest emotional connection, often the very first a Finder Keeper discovered. Sometimes they didn’t know what made the artifact their alpha, but every time they used it, they got closer to understanding the truth — Lady Wraith’s love was a lie. An alpha artifact was more powerful than any other artifact a Finder Keeper held, so Ice wasn’t taking any chances with the Catkith and didn't care if he lost a Finder Keeper or two along the way.
Most Finder Keepers got giddy when he gave the alpha order, because activating them was like a hit of ‘real’ and nothing on the Dinner Table was more intoxicating. Bran was the recent exception; the baby blue lunch kit that gifted him cold powers wasn’t his alpha artifact, but it was the one the other Finder Keepers expected and since his seed sleep — that lunch kit only brought him pain.
No battle cry accompanied the first attack, only a scream as a spear soared from the top of a building and slammed into Kiwi’s shoulder, knocking the paintbrush from his hand and sending him to the ground. Catkith pounced from atop, inside, and behind shanties. Bran reached out, grabbed Jumbo Shrimp’s hoodie, and yanked him from his flip-flops as a wooden spear flew past. What was he doing? The whole point of the ambush was to catch the other Finder Keepers off guard; Jumbo Shrimp was a powerful fighter and Bran had just saved him.
Jumbo Shrimp regained his balance, reached into his hoodie pocket, pulling out a roll of cloth in each hand. With a flick of his wrists the material unrolled and he tossed the strips to the ground, turned his head, giving Bran a nod of thanks, and touched a toe to each foot wrap — they came alive like snakes and wrapped around his feet as he moved towards Catkith bearing down on Bran. Jumbo Shrimp danced into the enemy, his martial art flowing into a series of punches and kicks as he first disarmed, then laid out the first white-haired and tawny skinned Catkith before spinning to the next.
Bran released the lunch box’s latch, inhaling the energy within; he felt the cold energy of the ancient sorcerers flow through him and he couldn't help but cringe. The Catkith had them outnumbered at least ten to one, but with Ice in the battle and alpha artifacts in play, even with Bran playing double agent — the Catkith didn’t stand a chance.