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Spellbreakers
Meat Puppets

Meat Puppets

Jemmy had the idea that since Millie had a weird fascination with painting him, she would be interested in dressing him in fancy clothes too. Besides, his clothes were wet and it was cold. Millie didn’t seem to mind being cold and wet or that her robes were stained. Maybe she needed reminding.

“Millie…”

She stared back at him. The lights of the crystal lit up her bright, aquiline face and huge nose in such a way that she looked like a strange green bird of prey.

“We should get these wet things off. And I’m so cold.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” she said, nodding vigorously, the strands of her sodden hair jiggling. “You’ve kept me waiting long enough.”

“I don’t see how I’ve kept you waiting,” said Jemmy. “You’re the one staring at a crystal even though we’re both dripping wet.”

Millie smirked. “You big tease.”

To his chagrin, he felt himself propelled by her magic, like her was a puppet on her strings. She walked ahead, turning to clap her hands together from time to time which made him speed up.

They turned down the other corridor that led from the junction that was also lit by the strange crystals. There were doors leading off it, but Millie walked up to a heavy wooden door at the end and Jemmy was dragged after her.

In the room there was a pool over which clouds of steam hung. It was a lot warmer here than in the corridor. A constant stream of water gushed from a gaping hole in the wall. There was soft white sand strewn around the pool, like the sand around the great underground lake. There was a lamp on the ceiling shining down with a dim, rosy light.

“This is a place to relax and unwind,” said Millie. “Now you can help me relax.”

“Turn your eyes away,” said Jemmy. “I’m about to go into the water.”

“Oho, no!” said Millie. “I wouldn’t miss this.”

She grabbed at him, pulling off his clothes. He protested as her hands demolished his pants, but then felt his jaws clamp together as if held by an invisible force.

Her green hands wrenched his pants away and she stared down, her brown eyes wide. “Woah!” she said with a whistle. “In the flesh. Who wouldn’t pay through the nose for a chance to see this?”

She put her clammy hands on his shoulders and grinned as he felt his face grow hot. “I admit I could be any pervert staring at you. In you go!”

He felt himself propelled into the water with a splash. It was actually very warm, like it had come from a tub heated under a fire. He was able to move his limbs again.

“That was thoroughly indecent…” he began.

She put a finger to her black lips. “Ssh. Don’t whinge, or I’ll make you shut up complaining. Wash yourself.”

He bit his lip and started scrubbing at himself and scrubbing at his face to try and get the paint off.

“Oh, the paint won’t come off until I say,” she said. “Just be happy that you’re my beautiful puppet boy.”

His heart sank. Hopefully Tira or Willow would know how to get the paint off. He wished they could come and rescue him now.

Millie started pulling off her robes, revealing the mounds of her firm green breasts with blackish grey nipples.

Jemmy covered his eyes with his hands, but he felt them wrenched away and with a prickling sense of unease, he realised he was immobilised again. He shut his eyes instead, but he could hear Millie splash in the water. She could have had the decency to wait until he was out.

But then with a cold feeling of dread in his stomach, he felt a pair of strong, clammy arms around him and a pair of firm breasts mashed into his chest. The arousal resulting from the closeness of a woman’s body flared up like a fever.

He opened his eyes. “Millie stop!”

“Oh, stop teasing. It was funny, but now it’s starting to grate.” She was breathing hard, her eyes were bright and he could feel her heart beating fast as their chests were pressed together.

“It’s time we were joined by blood,” she said. “Hope we have a boy.”

“NO!” he yelled, but his jaws were clamped together again by invisible hands and his arms and legs were bound together as if by invisible strings. Millie propelled him back onto the soft sand with her on top of him. She locked her lips on his and kissed him fiercely…

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00O00

Tira stepped back aghast as the living corpse rose to its feet in the filthy streets. It made a choking, gargling sound and lurched towards them, slashing the air with filthy nails.

“Bet you weren’t expecting that, eh Mistress?” said Gloom.

“Stand back,” said Tira and she drew a pebble from her pouch with one green hand and muttered a strange sounding word, then flung it at the horror.

A small explosion and the sound of wet meat breaking and then the corpse was broken into six pieces, the head, torso, arms and legs, all coming for the trio, kicking, clawing and biting…

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Larissa cleaved at the arms as they came for her. The head came snapping for Tira and Gloom and Tira lifted her hands in the air and screamed a weird garble of syllables. All of a sudden, there appeared to be six green witches with identical imps on their shoulders. The head paused, confused. It lunged at one of the green girls, who shimmered in and out of sight. Then one of the others lifted a glowing pebble and chucked it at the head which exploded in papery skin and cranial fluid. The other images of witches and imps disappeared.

The legs came kicking and shoving at Larissa who swung the chain from the chain shop with manacles at either end. The manacles kicked and snapped and wrapped around the legs, locking them together so that Larissa could cut them up easily. Finally Gloom flew through the air and disembowelled the torso with its claws. “I get the useless body part,” he observed. “Not clear what a torso can do in battle.”

“Oh Shekka, that was awful,” said Tira, shuddering.

“Not as bad as the Canker, Mistress,” said Gloom.

Larissa remembered how Jemmy had told her of Tira’s bravery when they fought the Canker together on their quest to take down the Infernal Beast.

“That’s true,” said Tira.

“The living corpse was making choking noises like something was stuck in its throat,” said Gloom. “It could be a clue why it was here and what it was doing. Try checking down its gullet, Mistress.”

Tira wrinkled her shiny green nose in disgust. “I don’t think so.”

“Larissa… you didn’t succeed in quests by ignoring possible clues, did you?” said Gloom.

“No,” Larissa concurred. She gingerly opened the corpses mouth with her sword and hooked out a wad of parchment. “How odd…”

There was a message on the parchment. Tira and Gloom looked over Larissa’s shoulder as she read it:

A story ever vile,

Such wicked thoughts behind a smile

I wondered all the while

I wondered what you’re thinking,

Painted faces are all I want to see

Forever watching me.

“This is beyond strange,” said Gloom.

I’m pulling strings of life tonight

You’ll then become awake.

“This was some kind of meat puppet,” said Gloom. “A magic user was responsible.”

At that moment, a front door in one of the small dwellings swung open and a crowd of little gnomes shuffled out.

“Y-You killed it?” stammered the gnome at the front.

“It was already dead,” said Gloom. “Don’t you have eyes?”

“Yes, we killed it,” said Larissa.

“It’s wunnerful… we’re s-saved,” piped the gnome. “Here…” He held out a pouch to Larissa. It was a little leather pouch containing five silver pieces. “Not m-much to a lady like you, but it’s from all of us.”

“Thank you, Sir,” said Larissa giving a little curtsey.

“Where’s mine?” grumbled Gloom.

The gnome handed another pouch to Tira. “Y-You’re a witch. These are good for taking potshots I hear.” The gnome tapped his nose. The pouch was full of little pebbles.

“Thank you so much!” said Tira, her green face splitting in a grin.

“Where’s my bribe?” demanded Gloom.

One of the other gnomes threw him a raw quail carcass and he jumped onto the ground to devour it.

Tira grimaced. “I’m definitely not up to meat after all this…” she gestured around at the mess of rotting body parts.

“Oh, you’ll get over it soon, however much you whine, Mistress,” said Gloom.

“What was that … thing?” asked Larissa.

“They say he was an evil magic user who came second best to a witch,” said the gnome. “Looks like she c-cursed him pretty badly.”

“How horrible,” said Tira with a shudder.

“You ought to find out how this kind of thing works,” said Gloom. “Might be useful for fighting living corpses.”

“I don’t think a good witch should,” said Tira.

“Rubbish. You do Necromancy,” said Gloom.

“Necromancy can be used for good,” said Tira. “Like finding out the cure for the fever. Making living corpses is just obscene. It’s the kind of thing the Canker did.”

The trio made their way down the street, which eventually joined with another, broader path. They passed a low, brick building with a sign above bearing the legend, “Mystic.”

Inside it was dark and the scent of incense wafted out.

“Could be clues about the North Gate in there,” said Gloom.

“Yes, I prefer looking for clues in there,” said Larissa.

They stepped over the threshold into the dark. A woman’s voice sounded from the corner of the darkened room. “Greetings, Lady of Coltbridge. I see you are a brave warrior. And Greetings to you, witch. I can tell you are an honourable soul. You are welcome.”

“Thank you!” said Tira, clasping her hands together. Even in the dark, Larissa could make out the witch’s lurid face and she was smiling.

“And greetings imp,” said the voice. “I think you are not to be trusted.”

“You have me wrong,” said Gloom.

The voice chuckled. “Say a word.”

“Harridan!” said Gloom.

“I see a mountain fortress,” said the voice. There was the sound of cards being moved across a table. “I see a cruel puppet mistress who is a slave to her own delusions.”

“Oh. Right,” said Gloom. “That was unexpected.”

“Say another word,” said the voice.

“Gate!” said Larissa.

“I see a wizard lock. I see a ghost. I see danger. Another word.”

“Jemmy!” said Tira.

“I see a brave soul bound by strings of evil magic with but one lifeline of good enchantment,” said the voice.

There was a flicker and a lamp on the table flared up to reveal a woman’s face. She was badly scarred.

“Oh! You poor thing,” Tira started forward. “You’ve been hurt. I might be able to help with the scars...”

“And what if I don’t want your help?” snapped the young woman.

“I – I don’t know …” stammered Tira, twirling a strand of her golden blond hair between her fingers.

“I can be perfect if that is important,” said the scarred woman. She lifted a painted mannequin mask from the table with the cards and put it one. “There. A painted face is all you see.”

“Oh. OK. If you’re happy,” said Tira, looking at her feet and biting her lip.

“She got you there, Mistress!” crowed Gloom. “She really is the most beautiful creature in here now.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” said Larissa. She took Tira by the hand. “We’re sorry we intruded, Miss.”

The three of them left and went up the track. Soon they heard the sound of musical instruments and crowds and people making merry. They saw banners of many colours to the side of the track.

“Ah! A fair,” said Gloom. “What a welcome change of scene.”

“We don’t have time,” said Tira shaking her head. “Sorry, but I’m not going to mess about when Jemmy’s life is at stake. Our quest is all that matters.”

“You’re not even his wife,” said Gloom.

“Shush with your nonsense,” said Tira, frowning.

Larissa felt a warm glow of affection for the girl, and patted her arm.

Gloom turned to Larissa. “As a seasoned adventurer, you know that trips to the fair often turn out strangely, but they can also provide insight. Clues.”

Larissa nodded. “I know that indeed. Come.”

She led them under the banners and into the fair. There were tents of many sizes all around.

“Where’s the liquor tent?” demanded Gloom. “Or the furmity tent will do if they flavour it with smuggled rum.”

“Give it a rest, Gloom,” said Tira. “I’m not in the mood.”

“This is about Jemmy, isn’t it?” said Gloom.

“Of course it is,” snapped Tira. “I’ve been worried sick and you’re not helping. Please Larissa, tell me you know what to look for and that it’ll help us.”

“I do know what to look for,” said Larissa.

But at that moment, a dark shadow leapt out from behind a tent and seized Larissa in a vice like grip.

“One wrong move…” said a silky voice in her ear.