I appeared in a grove of trees. Leaves, vines, and curtains of moss washed with the afternoon sunlight and tinted a striking turquoise. Indeed, all around me had a blue hue as fae areas often do. I looked around for whoever was responsible for my teleportation, instead seeing various wisps of light and small moving creatures.
“Down here, Sonny,” rasped a gen-u-ine southern old-coot voice.
I looked down to see the waist-high Popeye-looking fellow in his nice, highly-stereotypical green garb. “Oh, I remember you.”
He raised a hand to shake. “Mighty kind of you, for a face you only saw once. I’m a free man, thanks to you.”
We shook heartily and he beckoned backwards. I followed as he continued. “Name’s Ol’ Thais, by the way. Lots of us rescued folks stuck together after the fact.”
“Good to meet you, Thais. How many are we talking by ‘lots’?”
He guided me down a dirt footpath, flanked on either side by mushrooms. “About thirty-some these days. Forty if y’count the friends and family they brought into things.”
I sighed and ducked a branch. “There were a lot more than that warping out with you. I, uhh… didn’t get the chance to say it to your group, but I really didn’t want the publicity for that rescue.”
Thais was silent for a moment. “Well, I can’t speak fer the others, but I’m all about helping people travel, and ‘sjust common sense not to go spillin’ everyones’ beans, no matter what y’hear.”
I felt a chill run down my spine, which meant something literally every time. My vision snapped right and I made eye contact with a wooden woman leaning out from a tree.
“One moment, Thais.” I pointed to her, then very assertively beckoned her over. She seemed startled, but complied. She appeared from a tree by the path and refused to stick more than halfway out. “What’s your name, miss?”
Her eyes darted between the two of us. “Umm, uhh, Cypre, why?”
I crossed my arms. “Alright, Cypre. Can you not?”
“N– n– not what?” she stammered.
To establish myself a bit, I stepped into reach and draped an arm around her neck, at which point she began to pull back slightly. “Can you not call your friend? I just want a nice, yandere-less day trip and to enforce that, I will summon a woodpecker.”
Some confidence returned and she narrowed her emerald eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. And you wouldn't know the spell, Dennis.”
I smiled as my draped arm turned to a soft headlock. “Observe.”
I raised a hand, then began the motions. Then I stopped. Wait, was it the jazz hand, the razzle fingers, or the coin roll? Uhhhhhhhhh coin roll? I went with it, charging up a little magic in my hand, finishing on a coin roll motion with the fingers and whistling. Nope. Ohhh, it was the razzle. So I repeated, that time the whistle echoed supernaturally. Cypre’s smug expression vanished as she realized that I indeed knew ‘summon lesser animal’. I booped her nose.
“Now, you’ve got about thirty seconds before I have avian backup. Mind telling me how you know my name?”
Without a word, she batted my arm away and disappeared into the tree. I didn’t react, instead I let her go. I walked back to Thais, who looked amused. “Coulda just asked me, Sonny. Auseta’s been here every day fer months. ‘Cept recently. I thought she finally gave up.”
I sighed as we resumed down the path. “Nah, she found me instead. I might have to slap her with a legal thing sooner or later,” I explained as a summer tanager arrived to my call. I blinked at it, then dismissed the bird.
“Well that’s dryads fer ya. Wise, charismatic, and all the brains of nutless squirrel in spring.” A wooden arm shot out of the nearest tree and knocked his hat off, which he caught midair. “Violence can’t stifle the truth!” he spat back once out of reach of any tree.
We proceeded along the winding forest path as he regaled me of the fae trial stories for each of the unwelcome monsters that had portaled out with him. The most amusing of which was the iguanid, who was sentenced to one year of petting-cuddling zoo and was mandated to gain at least 5lb from lounging and excessive fruit consumption. Less amusing was the dirgethorne, which was burnt alive, ground up, and fed to the treants.
“Here we are, Sonny,” Thais gestured.
Before us was a building of stone and mortar with a roof of slate. It was large, easily big enough to be a small mansion, but with industrial leanings if the chimneys were anything to go off. And beyond it, the forest was thinning, giving way to a more golden light in the distance. I took a deep breath.
“Thanks for showing me the way, Thais.”
He snapped up to a semi-official pose. “No problem, Sonny! Give me your hand and I’ll ensure you get back safe.”
I did so and he slipped me a note that listed what turn to take at every intersection, then stamped the back of my hand with a nice glowing seal. “Good fer one return trip at any mushroom ring. Y’have a nice day.”
He skipped off into the core of the woods, leaving me alone at the entryway. A simple wooden door with a few locks and a sign hung next to it. ‘Bleeding Edge Workshops. NO WALK-INS! KNOCK BEFORE ENTERING.’ I pursed my lips for a moment, wondering if I should disobey for comedic effect. Nah, I don’t wanna see any ad-mech toaster shenanigans. I knocked.
“Enter!” came a familiar, if slightly louder-than-expected voice.
My green light given, I worked the latch and stepped inside, closing the door behind me. It was… an interesting sight. The walls inside had been smoothly cemented, totally annihilating the rustic exterior look for something far more industrial. To the left was a mix of break room and social area, with a small kitchen, a table for four that could unfold to maybe eight, an icebox from Ice-Witch Manufacturing Co. just like mine, and a shelf of some rather dusty board games.
Beyond that immediate close-left corner was entirely different. Shelves lined the walls, filled with glowing, turquoise crystals, metal hemispheres, little red-or-blue turret modules, and some of the old brassblood-sized control platforms. The assorted parts were… everywhere. Piles of damaged scrap on the floor, freshly-cast parts hanging from chains as their red glow slowly cooled, tables upon tables of the little tomb UFOs in various states of assembly occupied the central space. Not to mention the assorted tool-filled workbenches and door to the furnace room, if the red glow spilling out was any indication.
And then… was Coppernose herself, who was clomping up to me for a hug. Yes, clomping. Her arms fit around my whole self and I was briefly crushed by the embrace as she squealed in excitement.
“Dennis! My savior! My idea-giver!” She let go just in time for me to commence a vital lung refill. “How’ve you been? Has the publicity gone to your head? Were you always this short?”
I held up a finger and—somehow—she took the cue to shut up a sec. “First… why are you six feet tall? And how do you function while you’re like, 600 pounds?”
She recoiled. “Rude! I’m not fat! 490. And don’t you know how we brassbloods make workshops where we can be the same size as our customers?”
“... No, I don’t. I can only slurp up like two encyclopedias per year, so forgive me for not being versed in rare fae subspecies. And if I’m your intended customer, then you’re just a bit off.”
Coppernose pouted. “Hey, I was tiny at the time, you can’t hold it against me that I thought you were a manly mountain of meat.”
She then raised her fist and pounded it against the top of her head, losing an inch of height with each repetition until we were eye-level. She clanged her metal hands together and rubbed.
“That’s better. Now come on! This is supposed to be a sales pitch.”
At that, she spun on her heel (throwing sparks against the stone floor) and beckoned to a table with a complete unit. I followed and took in the room a bit more. It was big, large enough for a workforce of about a dozen maniacal tinkerers, or maybe thirty people with their heads screwed on straight and a preference for sweatshop labor. There were some closed doors on the back wall indicating additional space too, but it was empty aside from us.
“Did you kick everyone out for this pitch?” I asked, noticing a particular door in the back marked ‘Private’. I filed that one away under ‘when the time is right’.
“Yup! A personal showing for my good friend and prospective… funding source.”
We arrived at the table and on it was a complete UFO. The design was different, being basketball-sized and simpler for one, and having the dual guns substituted for a single, combined unit, the colored spars being twisted around one another like DNA. It also had two hemispherical slabs of cast metal that—when attached—would completely obscure the vulnerable interior crystal. Coppernose raised her hands to dramatically present the deactivated magitech machine.
“Behold: The culmination of thousands of hours dissecting what we dragged home from the tomb! Thirty-five explosions in our faces! Eleven bodily repairs due to shrapnel! A hundred and thirty-eight thousand gold in investments! All that, and we finally cracked it! Not. One. Scavenged. Part. All scratch-made right here.”
I looked it over a moment. “Well, you’re tooting your own horn plenty, but what’s it do?”
“I have no idea!” she proudly declared. I looked her in the eye before she doubled over laughing. “Okay, okay, I’m joking. This is a simplified version made to function as a tool, rather than an autonomous hunter-capturer. We’ll… figure the autonomous part out later, but that’s not the point. This is the ultimate in monster-catching tech!”
I thumped the table. “More,” thunk “horn,” thunk “tooting,” thunk. “Gimmie specs, girl.”
Coppernose clapped her hands and rubbed nervously. “Fine, fine fine-finefinefinefinefine. A man of action. It is controlled with an enchanted glove and aimed by the user. When you wear the glove, it hovers over your shoulder at a top speed of 14 miles per hour. It points where you point with the gloved hand and has 4 slots. Each one can hold a single thing—living or not—of up to 5 tons, with nothing that we’ve tested so far being able to resist the effect.”
I raised an eyebrow seriously. “You go to market with it being able to catch anything or anyone, and the league will have your head mounted on a wall in less than a month.”
She sucked in air with a hissing grimace. “Well… yeah, but nobody needs to know about that and I… really need some cash flow. I quite vividly remember when you told me your day job, and it made me think of you when we worked on this. Do you think these would be good for your line of work? Please say yes!” she added, clamping her hands together in prayer.
After a few seconds of looking between her and the product, I had my answer. “Brace for it,” I warned as I took a deep breath. “Yeah… but.”
She still flinched as I opened up the salvo of tough questions. “How many can you make, and how fast? I have 35 locations and once a few get them, customers will want them everywhere, to the point that one-per-location might not cut it. How reliable are they? Will they need regular maintenance and will you provide warranty service? Are they durable? The many use-cases for this would put it in regular danger.”
And then I arrived at the big smacker. “What’s the per-unit cost?”
Coppernose looked on the verge of passing out. She was breathing heavily at the thought of—gasp—infrastructure! Economies of scale! Maintenance work! Her poor brain was wired for invention, not business. I could tell by her disregard of the sunk costs alone. She recentered and thought hard.
“This one took… a week for me to make, and that’s with help. But it’s the prototype! If it works as intended, we can make molds of it and cast new ones much faster. I might be able to bring in some friends of friends who would be good at the crystals part, so with the right workforce… we might top out at two per day if everything is perfect.
“I… cannot claim any statistic of reliability. They have not been field-tested at all. But we have solved the power issue! The ones from the tomb died after two weeks, but these ones use less energy and can run off ley lines, which are frequent enough that you’re never out of range.
“For warranties… we’ll have to call in some business savvies and maybe a lawyer. You’re right on them of course, but I don’t know much about that. They’re durable though! An inch of steel all around, since they don’t need the cooling gaps like the tomb models. Only the turret is vulnerable, so I put shielding enchantments on it. As for the cost…”
Her body tensed as she was nearly allergic to the next words to come out of her mouth. “Ehhhhh 31,000 gold per.”
I nodded along for a moment. “This is a terrible sales pitch and I should walk right on out that door. I won’t because we’re friends, but you have some serious convincing to do if you want this to be flying off the shelves. I can’t just shell out three mil. I don’t underpay my employees enough for that kind of liquidity.”
She drooped and her sheet-metal wings slapped against her butt in frustration. “I know. I was never good at these sort of things.”
I walked over to her side. “You nerds are always about specs ‘n shit, but that’s not the language of buyers.” I smacked the back of her metal head. “Get that glove on my hand and put me in a shooting range right now. Make me want it! Show me how much easier my life can be!”
Her brain started to get back up to speed as she caught my meaning. “Yes, yes of course!”
……
We were out back with a hodge-podge of scrap metal pieces suspended in midair with a bit of magic. Coppernose had scattered them as a nice little smorgasbord of targets to shoot. She’d also returned to her correct size with a dramatic VWOOMP the moment she stepped outside and was thusly sitting on my shoulder giving me a tutorial for how finger position affects catch-cell selection.
I pointed with my index finger and a laser appeared from the bore of the UFO’s gun. She eagerly bounced up and down on my shoulder. “See! A laser. We had to do it with magic, but one day maybe it can be done with tech.”
“No, no, this is fine. This kind of laser is visible for the entire stretch of air and it doesn’t need any dust to refract off.”
I pointed at a piece of floating metal with a finger gun and the… drone(?) acquired the target and painted it with the laser. Then I lowered the hammer on my finger gun and ZAP, one piece of metal in the bag. I repeated, extending one more digit for each chamber, ending on a roast hand for chamber 4. Then I flipped my hand upside down and zapped the scrap out into a pile. Rinse and repeat a few times until the targets were neatly stacked. And then, the hair on the back of my neck stood up.
“So it’s all well and good for metal, but how is it for living things? Especially magical creatures.” I inquired with a well-hidden sense of urgency.
Coppernose shifted her seating on my shoulder. “Umm, it’s still the same design of sealing crystal from the tomb models. We’re working on a cheaper alternative, but this one you should know as perfectly safe already.”
“I can attest to the safety, yes,” I concurred while facing conspicuously left. “What about those cheaper ones? Would that hit the per-unit costs much?”
“Ooh, now that I think about it, we might kill two orcs with one starbomb. They’ll run on lower magic frequencies and take less power at the cost of maybe a smaller capacity and being more compatible with creatures’ conventional magic resistance.” Stepstepstepstepstepstep “And if the swap is good it should lower the cost by– AHH DRYAD!”
ZAP
We were frozen for a moment before I looked at Coppernose, who had vacated my shoulder. I raised the finger gun to my lips and blew away the proverbial smoke of my spot-on blind shot.
“You know, I might just take this one home… for testing of course.”
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
……
Following on from the fiasco of un-zapping Auseta, then slamming the door in her face, Coppernose and I were back in the workshop. She had elected not to go full-size again since it was ‘tiring’. I set the drone down on the table and removed the targeting glove, shoving it into my belt for the moment. I noticed a caliper on a passing table. It used the metric system...
“It’s quite a piece of tech you’ve got here, Coppernose. But it’s too early to sell.”
She sat with her head on her knees. “I was hoping you wouldn’t say that. But you’re right. It was dumb to bring you in so soon.”
I thumped the table. “Not at all. In fact, I’m going to make you an offer.” She instantly perked up and I had her full attention. “I will put down the cost of that unit, plus 20,000 gold on two conditions. One, I take this unit with me and use it on jobs to test it in real-world conditions. Two, you set up a calling stone receiver sigil in this building for 200 gold, so that I can call you whenever I have a question or this drone malfunctions.”
She didn’t even stop to think. “Deal!”
And with that, I reached into my nice E-D shoulder bag for the first time that day to get a pen and paper. I drafted an agreement so basic that it was all but indisputable.
I, Dennis T Lawson, will grant a direct investment of 20,000 gold and place a deposit of 33,500 gold, the latter of which grants me use of (1) prototype monster-catching drone (MCD) and associated control glove until I choose to return it for the full amount of 33,500 or exchange the MCD for a newer model and am refunded/pay the difference in cost. Should the drone be requested back, or if I choose to return it, the deposit must be returned in– I looked at Coppernose for a moment, then shrugged. –4 business weeks.
I then signed and let her sign. Immediately after that, I cut a check and she cashed it. Watching Coppernose use a steam-powered circular saw to breach the skin far enough for some blood (oil) to come out was honestly funny and sad. The check detected no account in her name, so it went into ‘tear for coins’ mode and she stashed it away.
She shook my hand with her whole body. “Thank you so much, Dennis. This investment really helps!”
“Oh, no problem. I always like to see the introduction of world-changing technologies. Why dontcha tell me a little bit about it eh? How did you reverse-engineer it?”
The resulting word-vomit of technical terms and jargon was, honestly, horrible to experience. But, little by little, she got deeper into evil genius mode, slowly taking her attention off me and focusing on various failed experiments and damaged parts. When she finally stopped noticing me, I slipped back and checked the private door. Locked.
Undeterred, I slipped the glove back on and the drone came to life. Coppernose took notice and sprung into the air upon seeing me pointing at the door.
“Hey, no! Don’t open thaaa–”
ZAP
She was frozen in the air, too shocked to speak as I looked in, seeing tubes of metal, trigger mechanisms, balls of lead. I stepped inside and she snapped back into reality, pulling hard on my jacket as the metal of her face turned red-hot. I doffed the glove and snatched her out of the air, applying enough force to restrain her as I held her up to the assorted gun parts.
“Care to explain what this is, Copppernose?” I interrogated, pointing at multiple bulged barrels. “How about this?” I probed, indicating a jar of gunpowder. “And what about theeese?” I finished, gesturing at hammer assemblies with nipples to put percussion caps on.
Her face burnt hotter, the heat spreading to her shoulders and starting to hurt my hand. “N– nothing! I know nothing about any of this! Somebody else made these!”
I let her go and she flew up out of reach, covering her face.
I crossed my arms. “Uh-huh. I don’t remember letting any of the other brassbloods anywhere near me, and I had that magdotra right next to me for every wink of sleep on the way back. Fat chance it was anyone else. And lemme guess, that golden light over yonder is the border to the Shimmerlands?”
Coppernose drew a deep, anxious breath, then spewed a stream of smoke and deflated. “Yes. It is. Are you… going to report me?”
I looked around at all the meticulously carved stocks and spectacularly banana-peeled barrels, thinking long and hard. “Maybe. Maybe not. C’mere and sit down, Coppernose.”
She carefully, defeatedly sat on the table as I went on. “Technically, everything you learned from me about guns happened in the Shimmerlands, where nothing can be proven and it’s almost impossible to hold one’s actions against them. And with the last revisions of celestial law, they added a clause for the natural, Gods’ Chosenless development of technologies. So I’m gonna give you one shot.”
I flipped a business card out from my pocket and handed it to her. “Tomorrow, you’re gonna call my lawyer. He’s going to give you one free legal consult. You’re going to tell him everything without any information held back. If he thinks you have a chance, he’ll give you another consult, and another, and another. If you have a real shot at this, your case might just go to the celestial court. At which point—if you get there at all—you might just have the privilege to continue in broad daylight.”
She looked me in the eye for the first time since I walked into the room. “Do you really think I have a chance?”
I grimaced. “It’s… a snowball’s chance in hell. But maybe you’re a frost elemental under there.” I gently patted her on the shoulder. “If it means anything to you, I’m rooting for ya, Snowball.”
……
Following on from that, I was able to cheer her up to the point that she showed me her work. It was a bit all over the place in terms of weapons development. She’d leapfrogged directly to breechloaders, having seen the VAL and company as the standard. It was an odd design.
A falling-block would lock the breech shut, but wasn’t in contact with it. Instead, a small panel on a hinge would tilt down à la those single-shot hunting pistols. That’s what seals the chamber, and is also where the percussion cap goes. The block was just to back it up, and had a firing pin running the length of it, which was struck by a hammer you had to cock. A lot of steps that she would likely eliminate with the creation of cartridges. I decided not to test-fire anything, seeing the many destroyed barrels.
“And once I figure out the durability, it will be time to start with these brass shells and the accuracy!”
I tapped my chin, considering the situation very carefully. “Do you want to hear one of the solutions to the accuracy issue?”
She all but exploded with excitement, likely dislodging some internal component with the massive spasm her body endured at the mere thought of more intel from Earth. “OBVIOUSLY! We’re still in the legal dead-zone of the Shimmerlands, so tell me! Tellmetellmetellme.”
I picked up a barrel with no other bits attached to it and stared down the bore. “Well, you’ve got a smooth, round barrel like they first made them. But the bullet kinda just bounces out the barrel and goes in whatever direction it last ricocheted towards. So one inventor made a twisting hexagonal barrel, and then made oblong, twisting hexagonal bullets. These would spin as they traveled down the barrel, then leave the muzzle and spin all the way to the target. I dunno if you know what a gyroscope is, but–”
“Oh, I know. I have one in my belly, helps me know which way is down. But… spinning! Gods, you’re right! How did he effectively manufacture the twisting barrels?”
“No fucking clue, but I’m sure you can figure it out. It’s what we use today.”
……
My mission was complete. I had interrogated Coppernose and she’d let slip that at least 30 other brassbloods were in the know on firearms design, and she didn’t know how many of them had further disseminated the information. As I walked along the forest trail, navigational note in one hand and woodpecker perched on the other, I wondered how Grunnus would feel. He had his suspicions—which were confirmed—as did I (and I was even righter…er). It did leave me with that question: What would his reaction be? I… hadn’t really given the assignment my all.
Somehow, the woodpecker worked and I arrived at the circle of mushrooms unmolested. I dismissed my feathered friend and activated the stamp on my hand before anyone in particular took it as a sign to come hug me. A few psychedelic seconds later and I was back in the Ratcave™. I set everything back to normal and made for the exit shaft, bumping headfirst into the wind. It slapped me gently on the cheek.
“Well what the fuck was I supposed to do? I can’t bring you along for literally everything.” I threw my hands up. “Tell you what, next time I teleport, you can come along in a catch-orb and I’ll pop you out on-site when nobody is looking. Now get out, I have a call to make.”
After confirming that I was alone, I got out my stones and… waited. I didn’t exactly have the number to call any gods. “Uh, Grunnus, you gonna ring me? What’s the deal here?” I asked into the ether. It seemed to be the right question, as the stones rang in my hands a moment later.
“Hello? … Yup. … Well… she was. Still is too. I might’ve been able to stop her, but she’s already told like, 30 brassbloods, and they’ve spread, recorded, and buried the info god knows how many times by now. … I’m... glad you're not upset 'n stuff, but I wanted to talk to you about the legalities of– … What? Really? … I, uhh, hadn’t figured you that way. … Waddya mean the other three care more about it?
“It’s literally only ever you doing or saying shit. … ‘Narrow perspective’ my ass. It’s obvious even down here: You put in the effort, they don’t. … That’s separate. Priests are like fans, of course they care enough about them. Look, we’re getting off track. Coppernose is making guns and told all her friends. I did as you asked, but I also put her in touch with my lawyer because I think there is a little too much plausible deniability. Now can you pay me and leave me in peace?
“Yes I absolutely fulfilled your criteria! You said ‘shut down, sabotage, delay, or seriously hinder’. I couldn’t stop her, but I told her to make fucking Whitworth rifles. Her operation just slowed down majorly, and the costs-per-unit shot up a ton. I did as you asked. Pay me. … Thank you. I had time to think it over and… Leopard 1 with a gun stabilizer and thermal-sights.
“Yeah, I know, I’m kidding. … No, hold on, I have an actual request. I… need a good mount. … What do you mean finally? … You must not have been paying attention, because that wasn’t a mundane mule. … Yeah, go ahead and check. I’m dead-fuckin’ serious. … Yeah, I told you so. … No, I don’t want him back, he left of his own accord. I just want something that can pull a carriage, win a fight, is low maintenance, and easy enough to handle and care for. It doesn’t have to be amazing, just a good generalist, please. …
“Ehh, I’ll only agree to owe you on the condition that I will pay off the favor by giving you updates on Coppernose and absolutely nothing else, deal?. … Cool. I’ll check the stable this evening. I have to go now and salvage what time I have left on this date. … Fuck you! I am, in fact, capable of being popular and close with the ladies. … Making my class ‘turbo virgin’ won't be funny a second time. … Bye.”
I smacked the stones together and tried to just breathe for a minute. My blood pressure was high from the stone call’s fucking rollercoaster of emotions. I had to wonder why Grunnus wasn’t doing anything about the guns, other than confirm they existed. At the same time, I didn’t want to know. In fact, I wanted to stay far-the-fuck-away from whatever that mess was and try to enjoy my life again. It wasn’t an option, but it’s what I wanted, so there (goddamnit).
Following that moment of cooling down, I emerged from the Ratcave™ and shut the bookshelf behind me. The sun was setting, so I knew I’d missed the date. I took a few items out of my shoulder bag and put them in my desk, then made for the front lobby. I passed through the offices with a look on my face that warded off potential social interaction, only to stop in my tracks when I saw Matti sitting in the reception area with a bowl in her lap.
“Oh, Matti! Did you get my note? I hope you weren’t waiting long.”
She stood as I came to her side. “It’s no trouble. Here, I brought you some chili from the place we were going. It’s almost time for the second part of our date.”
I accepted the bowl, which had been given the magic-ribbon storage treatment. “Aww, that’s very thoughtful of you. Come on, let’s get going.”
We hit the streets and started our way to the Black Sapphire Guild. I looked at the bowl that would be my dinner soon-ish, whenever I got my appetite back. “Sorry about bouncing on you for the date, Matti.”
She waved it off. “What should I expect? To waltz into your life and assume your schedule will instantly conform to me? A nonsense notion to be sure.” She gazed at the sunset. “Though if I may ask, what came up?”
I raised a finger, then curled it and slowly lowered the hand. “Wow, I really can’t say too much. It was basically a sales pitch, but for reasons beyond my control, I was… legally… yeah, legally obligated to attend. It was alright in the end, but some muscle was flexed to get me there, and I didn’t like that part.”
Her lips puckered. “I find that answer unsatisfying. However, I know that style of roundabout vagueness. You really can’t talk about it without more trouble. Oh well. We will simply have to eliminate sources of surprise when possible.”
“Good luck with that,” I muttered. “You really don’t mind passing on dinner?”
Matti shrugged. “With our different… eating styles? Not at all. Besides, I was looking forward to this part much, much more.”
That evil grin was back…
……
I threw open the doors to the training room, seeing Cam warming up with the plate golem. “Yo, dude!” I half-yelled as Matti turned around and started putting a privacy spell on the door.
Cam let out some air and wiped his sweaty forehead. “Evening, Dennis. That the friend you mentioned?” he asked, motioning with his sickleback war hammer.
I went to set my bag down and Matti’s hat n’ cloak—which I was carrying at the time—as she joined us. “That she is. Let’s get you introduced.”
We formed up in the ring and I took the lead. “Cameron, meet Mattirina, and vice versa.” They shook briefly and exchanged about the most vanilla greetings one could imagine. “Aaand let’s get to the part where you drop the disguise, eh?”
Rather than just drop the illusion, Matti did a small flourish. She shut her sapphire eyes and flicked her brown hair. The strands were raven-black by the time they fell, and she opened her distinctly ruby eyes. Cam tensed up slightly and looked at me.
“Uhh, aren’t red eyes like… a problem?”
“More of a warning,” Matti answered for me. “They are a sign to look for additional information. For example:”
She opened her mouth and her canines visibly extended an inch, causing Cam to recoil. “OH FUCK!” he blurted, stopping in a defensive posture.
Matti rolled her eyes. “Believe me, I’m not here to feed. And if I were,” she stated, zipping to Cam, disarming him, and tripping him in half a second. “You wouldn’t stand a chance.”
She helped him up and that seemed to ease him, but the fear was still palpable. “Was that a threat? Pretty sure that was a threat.”
She stepped back to give him some space. “More of a fact that you have every right to be concerned about. Know this: I will cause you no great harm, nor shall I ever consider you food.”
He nodded, then looked to me. “Can I trust that?”
I gave a thumbs-up. “She’s a royal. Royals keep their word. Anyway, I brought her here to give you a little anti-vampire training, since bestials are a bit of a bump in the road on the monster-killing journey.”
Cam held his arms akimbo. “Oookay. Bestials… bestial vampires, then? What do I need to know, Mattirina?”
She cracked her fingers and held her hands up. “First, it’s Matti. The nickname has grown on me. Second, aim for the mouth. Bestials fight with their mouth open to intimidate you. Against a seasoned opponent, this is a mistake. One good hit knocks the fangs out, and this causes a small little quirk with our bodily regeneration…”
……
Matti must enjoy the sound of her own voice. She’d gone over the differences between royal and bestial vampires, the origin of royals as a mutation, their rise to dominance and near-extinction of bestials due to royals feeding on them… yeah, ‘royal’ vampire shares a meaning with ‘king’ snake. I already knew as much, but it was pretty neat to hear it from an expert. But enough talk! I wanted to see Cam get his ass handed to him.
The first round was… something. More of a demonstration I suppose. Matti turned to mist instantly, then clung to Cam and he did the wrong thing. You gotta cover your mouth and pinch your nose, else the vampire can put the mist in your lungs and you suffocate. She let go as he was on the verge of passing out and reformed, then informed him of how to prevent that from happening. Could’ve just told him in the first place, but at least he wouldn’t forget I guess.
Then came the fun part! She was essentially just playing with him, zipping circles around him and hitting him with her stick from every direction. Meanwhile, Cam couldn’t counter to save his life. Girl was a blur, so much so that I’m not sure I could have kept up in a 1v1. But it was the sound that made it what it was…
Fwip THWACK fwip THWACK swoosh, fwip THWACK fwip THWACK “FUCK!”
Yeah, that last one was Cam. He wasn’t having a good time. I hit the gong. “Saved by the bell!” I announced as he nearly crumpled from enough bonks for a life sentence in horny jail.
He dragged himself over to where Matti and I sat, her having beaten him to the bench without a care in the world. She crossed her legs with an innocent expression.
“I’ll give you points for hardiness, I suppose.”
Cam glared at her, then sat on my other side. “Ugh, that was a boss fight and a half.”
I raised a finger. “Actually, that’s 100% correct. The GC-made power-scale for boss opponents is: Miniboss, dungeon boss, questline end-boss, area boss, regional boss, mega boss, final boss, and post-credits super-boss. Matti is an area boss.”
She leaned forward to address Cam. “I will likely qualify as a regional boss eventually.”
He slow-nodded while popping the lesser healing potion. “That… makes a lot of sense. Are you two about the same power level?”
Matti and I shared a glance. “I guess. I wouldn’t wanna fight her.”
“Nor would I wish to battle him.”
I shrugged and threw an arm around her shoulder. “Besiiiiides, why would I want to fight my girlfriend? Well, prospective girlfriend, it’s still a little soon to be absolute about it.”
Cam threw his head back. “Ohhhhhh noooooooo. This is going to be a regular thing, isn’t it?”
She hopped to her feet. “It will be until you figure it out. Now, let us dance once more. Follow your ears, Cameron: It is sound that will win you this day.”
What happened next is—frankly—why I like Cam so much. He took that advice to heart and applied it in round 3 quite effectively. I hadn’t even noticed the tell, since I was fast enough to not need it. Cameron, on the other hand, picked up on the cadence of her dashing.
There was about a 10th of a second where she slowed every footfall in that spiraling attack pattern. If she continued the trajectory, the rhythm persisted. But if she reversed direction, there was an audible pause, even if for only a quarter of a second. He wasn’t exactly tracking her flawlessly, but the confusion faded and he went from swinging where she wasn’t, to swinging where she just was.
At that point, I knew he would land a hit. It started with every third blow Matti delivered clacking against Cameron’s stick, his defenses rising to the challenge as the seconds ticked on. Then it happened. She reversed at the wrong time and was so focused on her next strike that she had tunnel-visioned into a stick to the face. There was an impressive THWACK and she spun back, clutching her cheek.
I was about to give applause, but she screeched, grabbed Cam by the wrist, tugged hard enough to bend him forward, then delivered a kick across his chest, her knee striking his sternum and the rest of the shin drawing a line down his torso. Cam flew seven feet into the air, flipped over, and landed face-down out cold. The self-ringing gong went off, signaling an unconscious contestant. Skelly—the plate golem—clutched his cheeks in horror as I sprang to my feet.
“What the fuck, Matti? That was uncalled for!” I yelled as I went to check on Cam. He was breathing and his ribcage was still in one piece, thank fuck.
She rubbed her struck cheek. “He hit me,” she whined.
I looked at her, confused. “Yeah, that’s the point. You landed like, a hundred shots and he whacks you once. Turnabout’s fair play, not fucking this.”
The scene seemed to set in for Matti as I continued checking Cam for damage, bumping the wind’s hand as I measured his pulse. Her face dropped as he came to a moment later. I glared at her and she became sheepish, unable to look Cam in the eye.
“I– I’m sorry, Cameron. I forgot how much wood hurts and failed to contain my rage in response to pain. I hurt you because of that and I apologize.”
He took a long, dramatic wheeze. “No great harm my spanked black ass. I’ll forgive you for the price of… three healing potions.”
She nodded. “I’ll… have them in your hands by tomorrow.”
We were soon sitting on the bench resting up. I got out the package for Cam’s next day as Matti was busy explaining herself.
“You see, life energy is our antithesis in any form other than blood. Then, in parallel, the earth is always calling to us, demanding us back, for we are dead. Wood is the crossroads of earth and life, an ultimate tool to show us what we lack, and… send us where the world thinks we belong. In the ground.”
“Uh-huh,” Cam answered idly, still a bit out of it from the K.O.
I passed him a disassembled crossbow repeater. “Put this in your bag, Cam. I want you to read up on it tomorrow and practice the controls a bit; page 61 of manual 3. We’re using it on our next job.”
He shook his head and focused slightly. “Okay.”
I pursed my lips. “Yeahhhh let’s go get him in bed, Matti.”
……
We turned onto the street for my house, having been mostly silent. I finally broke it. “Yeah, so, first major bump in the road. I have too much bullshit in my life to let that temper of yours fly, so we need to blunt that edge somehow, alright?”
Matti kicked the ground as she stepped. “I know. I… am not sure how to address it. Today is too fresh, though.”
My front door was approaching so I passed her the keys. “Let yourself in. I got paid with a mount for that thing I can’t discuss, and it should be in my stable with Parsnip. I’m going to check.”
“Okay.”
We diverged and I marched on over, determined to get it done and over with then eat some goddamn chili. I undid the latch and shoved the door open.
Lying on a bed of hay was a horse, its body made of dark basalt, its mane a flow of gently-undulating fire. The hooves and eyes glowed like magma. Rapidash was on its way to file a copyright suit. Despite its flaming form, there was no smell of burning, and the hay was untouched. It looked at me and spoke.
“Yo, dawg! Grunny-man called in a fav and now Pyroshir’s in da HOUSE!”