The Path to Eden I - Jamie

Author's note: The number here may be confusing - this is actually the second chapter of the "Eden" series, but it's part of the first act of it, so to speak. I may change this all up later. Link to the first chapter below the story, for all those interested.

_______________________________________________________________________

There are days when everything’s going exactly as I want it to. Days I don’t even have to do anything and everything just somehow falls into place. No effort, no stress, no nothing. Just pure, unadulterated bliss. And then there are the bloody days when even your fucking front gate hates your fucking guts. Days like today, I mean.

The bloody thing would just not respond to anything. I could shout at it, pound at it, kick it – nothing. The touch panel was broken. Must’ve been Trish or Susie that did it when they came back from that bloody party yesterday night. Why the fuck do we even have teens?

“Cat!” I shouted at the living room window. “Do you have the keys to this bloody gate? The digital lock’s busted!” Sadly, no answer came. I figured she was just having one of her moods again. After dealing the hellish contraption one final kick, I let out a sigh and threw my briefcase over it. Then I tried to throw my body over it. With much sweat and heaving, I finally managed to wrestle my belly over the gate and found myself on the pavement. I straightened my tie and wiped the sweat off my forehead. Well done, Jimbo. You’ve made it to the other side even though the world hates you today. You’ve earned a bloody medal.

The grey sky reflected off of my car’s freshly waxed surface. With a pleasant bwoop, the vehicle unlocked when I pressed the button on my keycard. I was glad that at least the car was being nice to me. Up until a certain point, at least.

The screen to my left showed me the same screen that greets me every morning. I tapped the same icons as usual, setting the course for my workplace. I put my hands on my face, trying to cleanse myself off all the remaining frustration, awaiting the car to take me away somewhere. That moment took longer than usual. I opened my eyes.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” The screen flashed red with a big “system error” message. As if the day hadn’t been bad enough, I had to drive the car manually to work. Don’t panic. You can do this. It’s just a 20-minute drive.

It was a 20-minute drive when I used the autopilot. Turned out to be quite a bit longer when I had to do the driving myself. I always found the steering wheel to be a clunky device and I was pretty confident that whenever I took control of the car it would end in an accident. On top of that fear, I was growing more and more angry and frustrated over the fact that I was going to be late. Needless to say, my hands were shaking like a bloody Chihuahua.

Almost 30 minutes late, I’d finally arrived at my work’s car park. A glance at the mirror showed me my balding scalp had turned beet red and dripping with sweat. As I parked, the backside of the car gently brushed the wall. Don’t let it be scratched, please. Don’t let it be scratched. I quickly got out of the car and took a look. It did get scratched. I kicked the car’s tire, injuring my big toe in the process.

“Fuck!”

But then it was all okay. I’d straightened my tie again and was taking the lift up to my office. Through its glass walls I saw the magnificent cityscape. Despite the lousy weather, the jagged, glass horizon formed by all the new buildings never ceased to amaze me. Bent into striking shapes and illuminated by faint white lights even in the daytime, the structures were a sight that was for some reason soothing. I took a deep breath, feeling the frustration leave my body, when I heard a soft ding announcing that I had reached my destination.

Without making a sound, the door opened. As I entered, my heart sank. The whole room was empty. All the desks were vacant. The computers were mostly on, however, with several holoscreens flickering. It all seemed as if everyone just left the room to-

“Fuck!” I swore in a whisper that was much too loud. As if the day could not get worse, I remembered there was an important meeting scheduled for that day. The door to the boss’ office flew wide open and a crowd of smartly dressed people came filing out of the room, confirming my fears. I tried to force my way through the stampede and finally found myself face-to-face with Garry Ferguson, my boss. I was heaving and sweating yet again, clutching my knees as I leaned down to catch my breath.

“Nice of you to finally arrive, James,” he said with a grin showcasing his sparkling, perfectly even teeth. Despite their impeccable evenness, Garry had a lisp. That’s why I would always cringe whenever I heard him say my full name.

“I’m really sorry, Garry,” I said as I straightened my tie for what was probably the millionth fucking time that day. “It’s just… Everything’s just… Do you ever have one of those days-“

“You know what, James?” he said with that blasted lisp again. His grin, however, had faded. “I don’t really think this is working out.”

“What do you mean?”

“The meeting we had today was very important. That new Japanese doll system we mentioned some time ago, remember that? Well, that’s what the meeting was about.”

“Okay.” I wasn’t exactly sure if I remembered or not.

“And we’re implementing it next week. What that means is that we need to become even more efficient, more aggressive, more sleek.” I cringed at that last word. I know he did his best at it, but it came out as thleek. “We need to cut corners, is all I mean.”

“Well, that’s one thing I can be sure I’m good at,” I joked. He didn’t seem to get it. “Just ask my wife.”

“Boone,” he said with a stern face. My heart sank. If he addressed you with your last name, you could be sure that was no good. “This isn’t the first time that you’ve  proved inadequate and we can no longer afford to sustain people who lag behind. I want you to pack your things.”

“No, Garry, wait-“

“I want you out by 12.”

Before I knew it, I was out of his office and the wooden door slammed in front of my face. For a moment I was sure all I could hear was faint static at the back of my head. Next thing I knew I was in the lift again. The tall structures grew larger and more imposing the lower I went. I felt as if I was being crushed.

Still faint from all that had happened, I got in the car. Instinctively, my hand reached for the side panel. A red light came up once again. Guess I need to take the wheel again.

The drive home went surprisingly smoothly. Before I knew it, I was parked in front of my house. Maybe it’s all just some crazy dream? I mean, I’m not even angry. It’s all so surreal. The gate was still broken, so I leapt over it once more. This time I forgot to take my briefcase from the car with me, so I had to go over the gate two more times. I then stood in front of the door for a while. I felt so detached from everything, as if the body wasn’t even mine and I couldn’t feel anything. I giggled. The numbness felt funny. I grabbed the doorknob and opened the door, wondering what other interesting things might happen today.

I dropped my briefcase by the entrance and went straight ahead upstairs. At that time, I didn’t even hear anything or notice anything strange. I think I still felt that static. But the instant I opened the bedroom door, I noticed what was wrong.

“Fuck.”

The two bodies in my bed began to spin around in a panic.

“Why the fuck are you here?” my wife Catherine asked as she emerged from under the sheets, her auburn hair tangled and falling on her gaunt face. Her lips were trembling, her face pale as she fixed her gaze on me. And I must have had the dumbest expression on my face.

“Well, you know, I used to sleep in that bed with you. Is it really so surprising that I’m here now? And who’s the lad with you?” As soon as he showed his shaggy head from under the sheets, I recognized him. “Matt,” I gasped. Now that I did not see coming. Matt was a longtime friend of ours, along with his wife, Melissa. My eye twitched. “Now you’ll tell me Melissa’s there with you as well.”

He sent me a nervous grin as he got up from under the sheets and put on some trousers. He was tall and much more fit than I was, despite being roughly the same age. As he turned to me, I noticed the nervousness disappear from his grin. He now stood there in front of me. I think he was trying to intimidate me. I think it worked. The next thing I knew I had him pinned to the floor, my fist prepared to strike his dumb face.

“You can hit me all you want, mate,” he grinned. “But dear Cat here’s made her choices. It’s not my fault she’d rather fuck me than you.”

“Oh yeah? Are you suggesting it’s mine, then!” I shouted, spitting all over his face.

“Stop that, right now!” I could hear Cat shout from the bed. “I will not tolerate this!”

“And what if I am, huh? You’ll hit me? I’d like to see you try,” Matt’s grin became crooked. “You and I both know you won’t do it. You’re too weak.”

“Don’t provoke him!” Cat shouted. “Just let it go.”

Let it go, she says. I felt detached from everything once again. Despite my rage boiling somewhere deep inside, somewhere deeper I somehow did not give a fuck. Everything was messed up anyway. So I got up and turned around. I noticed Cat’s expression change.

“So you’re just going to leave this all like that?”

“You said yourself that you won’t tolerate it. I don’t think I give a fuck anymore at this point.”

“You don’t give a fuck…” I could tell she was fighting back tears. “So this marriage means nothing to you? You won’t fight for anything?”

“Why bother?” as I said this, I left the room. I could hear Cat shout something in the distance, but I didn’t care enough to even try to understand the specific words. On my way downstairs I bumped into Trish as she snuck into the house from the back entrance. “And why the fuck are you not at school?”

“Dad!” she gasped. She was clearly shaken, had deep shadows under her eyes and looked positively exhausted. “I thought you were at work.”

“Well, as you can see, I’m not. Let me guess, neither of you came back from the party for the night.” Her response consisted of looking down at her feet. A part of me was furious, but then it was replaced by something wonderful. I really didn’t have to do anything anymore. I could just leave it all behind and let someone else do the cleaning up. The world hated me as it was anyway. “Well, it’s none of my business anymore anyway, so bye!”

She said nothing as I left. The last time I saw her face, she was absolutely stunned by what I had told her. I hoped Susan was okay. Disregarding that, I approached the car, whose front window was now adorned with a lovely spot of bird shit.

“How lovely!” I shouted with a big grin on my face. My hands shook as I opened the door and entered the car. I didn’t even bother with the autopilot this time around, I just turned the keycard and just rode straight ahead of me. I was sure I was speeding, but that was the point. I wanted to go as far away as I could, as fast as I could.

Then I reached the roundabout.

Roundabouts are safe, they said. Unless some fucking twat decides to enter it when they shouldn’t. Needless to say, my car was hit. Badly. I lost consciousness. I was pretty sure I was dead. But then I found myself in a place that was completely white, almost blindingly so. I was standing in a circle that I formed with ten human-shaped shadows. In the middle of the circle, a naked woman was hovering in midair. The Contact, a featureless voice in my head said. She was quite stunning. She must have been in her late twenties. Her cropped brown hair gave her a bit of an edgy look, but that was evened out by the big brown eyes that seemed to shine with innocence in all this. To top it all off, she had an amazing body. It didn’t seem appropriate to gawk at that, however, so I turned my gaze away.

And then the light appeared. A red ray of light burst out of the girl’s forehead, piercing the sky above us, dispersing the milk-white substance that now looked a bit like clouds. Something descended from there. I couldn’t see it clearly from where I stood, but I believe it had wings made out of fire and a giant, rainbow-colored eye. The sight was pretty shocking, and yet I just stood there, unable to move, trying not to die out of the sheer terror I was feeling. I think it said something to us.

And then I opened my eyes. I was lying on the ground, my eyes gazing into the sky above me, at the numerous spots of light that were visible even despite the thick clouds. That’s them. I sat up on the grass. For some reason, I was in the middle of the roundabout, my car lay mangled next to me, reeking of smoke and oil. And yet there was no scratch on me. The people around me had left their cars, and gazed into the sky, a nervous murmur in the air. Even the police and the medics and the dumbass that crashed his car into mine were looking up with their mouths agape. I reached for my phone in my pocket. Thankfully, it was in perfect condition too. For some reason, I knew exactly what I needed to do now. So I booked a flight.

_____________________________________________________________

The Path to Eden I - Angela (1/2)

The Path to Eden I - Angela (2/2)

The Fabulous Misadventures of Matoya, the Witch IV (2/2)

“Wench!” Sir Alistair yelled out in a guttural tenor as he swung his longsword at the barrier, this time meeting my fiery blade. His weapon quickly heated and the strain this put on him was visible at first glance, yet he did not back away. “Your unholy fires will slay the creature! Have you no brains?”

“Ye best check if your brains are in their place, laddy!” I shouted back at him, swinging my own blade, parrying each of his blows. They were strong, heavy, but still very clumsy. And yet, his persistence was admirable. Still, an easy target. I could knock him down in just a few moves. “The creature’s confined, not dead. And the deal was we get rid of it. Ye never said ye needed him alive. Why would Haegyn’s holy knights need a beastie this foul brought back? And here I was thinking ye only intended to rid the land of its evils.”

“Silence, wench!” as he took another swing, I took my chance. Instead of parrying, I pointed my sword at the unarmoured opening he had carelessly left beneath his left arm. The sword fell to the ground with a muffled clunk, and a squeal uttered by its bearer, as I placed a kick in his groin area, sending him flat on the heather.

“That’s quite enough,” I heard a voice behind me. I turned around – Sir Gilroy was approaching me from beyond the fiery wall.

“Yer protégé needs more tempering, Sir Gilroy,” I told him.

“Indeed. Some lessons ought be learned through pain rather than lecture. You have my thanks for that, m’lady,” he lay his emerald eyes on the flame cage. “The beast lies within, I take it?”

“The abyssal flames will contain any manner of creature within, so long as I wish it. Sir knight, ye do me a great disservice yet again. Ye have me for a fool. If ye truly are who ye say ye are, explain yerself. What could the Knights of Haegyn want with an invisible manticore.”

“M’lady,” he turned his eyes to me, a gentle smile on his gallant face. “Your intellect has been a great bane to our endeavor. Let it be known to you, I have you for no fool. On the contrary. And yet, there are some facts I may not impose on you. For some knowledge can be dangerous, and I daren’t endanger a lady such as you with such reckless behaviour. The Order has no need for the manticore. You have seen nothing. The creature has been vanquished. You have heroically slain it with your companions and with the guidance of the Knights of Haegyn. Many a knight has sacrificed his life in this endeavor and you have avenged all of them. Haegyn will forever sing of your valour, wit, and grace. Of Matoya, the Good Witch. None shall ever accuse you of devilish pacts again.”

“A lovely tale, Sir Gilroy. Ye could not even begin to imagine how many times I had heard it. I spit on yer songs and tales, on reputation. Something is clearly afoot, something ye try to hide from me. And I will not have anything hidden from me. Ye knew this manticore was invisible. Ye were meant to find it and contain it, not because ye needed to protect the people. Because it could not be exposed that someone in Haegyn was performing such unholy actions, true?” Sir Gilroy remained silent. “What is it ye want?”

“I would ask you to grant me this one favour and lower the barrier.”

“And set the creature loose?” Sir Gilroy raised his left hand and opened the palm of his gauntleted hand. A small glass vial lay within. My heart sank. “What have ye done with them?”

“They wait for you beyond the knoll. Leave the beast in my care, and their lives are spared. My sword is steadier than that of Alistair. A fine, mythril blade. The bane of mages.”

I uttered a laugh. A single, nervous chuckle. They had me on my knees. This was hardly the first time. And yet, never before had I felt such helplessness. How love can weigh one down. In any other circumstances, I would be prepared to test what Sir Gilroy had said. I would see for myself if it was a bluff. And yet, too much was at stake this time. I slowly lowered the flames as Sir Gilroy hurled the vial at the angry beast that lunged itself at him then fell to the ground with a deafening thud. The knight did not even flinch. As the beast lay on the ground, it started to become less transparent. Not a minute later, an unconscious manticore could be seen lying on the ground.

“Now, I must ask you to leave, Matoya,” Sir Gilroy said as he knelt down next to his protégé, gently nudging him to wake up. “Go see your companions. This matter concerns you not. Not anymore.”

And walk away I did. I heard horses making their way towards the knights, their hushed voices, heaving, as they struggled to transport the beast. Yet it was none of my concern. I followed the trail on the moor, towards the moonlit knoll, focusing on Isolde and Cillian and Nevermore. I prayed for their safety. This matter concerned me no more. I knew something was afoot. Manticores can be used for many amazing magical concoctions. Many weapons. But that mattered not. Not anymore. I started to run, knowing that the longer I took, the more their lives could be at risk. So I hurried on.

The beast was dead.

The Fabulous Misadventures of Matoya, the Witch IV (1/2)

There could be no mistake. The heavy breathing, the low, guttural growl, the sound of tremendous paws pounding on flowers of heather, closer and closer, louder and louder. I could not see it, but I knew it was there. I shot up a burst of bright sparks into the pitch blackness of the night sky. I heard voices in the distance. Sir Gilroy should be right beyond the knoll to the east, Cillian and Isolde somewhere to the north. Gods know where Sir Alistair went. If only Nevermore came quicker, then I’d most likely deal with the beast in seconds. For now, I could only rely on myself.

I had never come face-to-face with a manticore myself. The Tome described it as a beast of imposing stature, baring fangs the size or a large dog’s leg. Its face resembled that of a human male, yet covered in protruding whiskers. Besides the imposing fangs, its mouth was said to be housing rows upon rows of teeth. It was said to possess a gaze most piercing, capable of paralyzing even the boldest of the bold with fear. And yet, by far the most dangerous weapon it wielded was its tail. A long, barbed abomination, swollen with the thick, vilely purple liquid pulsating within. The large, human head-sized, thorn-ridden tip was enough to bludgeon a person to death if a sufficiently strong swing was made. And even if that failed to land a kill, the venom  injected was bound to finish the job. By then the fangs and teeth would proceed to eviscerate the remains, which at this point barely resembled their original shape anyway. A manticore was by all means a perfect predator. Small wonder Sir Gilroy’s party had been reduced to a meager two.

Usually, manticores would inhabit deserts and canyons, making their dwelling in tunnels dug up under the dunes or formed naturally within the rocks. The moors would not offer them such protection, as the ground was too hard for them to dig into with their paws. There were no natural caves to give them shelter. A manticore would stand out like a sore thumb among the sea of violet, making a stray like that an easy target for local hunters, who would seek them out as the amount of gold offered for manticore parts would last them a lifetime (not to mention the magical properties). Pity this one was invisible.

The Tome warns of the beast’s swiftness and advises the use of paralysing potions. As we could not be sure which one of us would be facing the creature and there was time to only brew one vial, I gave it to Nevermore who would proceed to drop it on the creature when he noticed any of us engage in battle. He was running dreadfully late.

The pounding on the ground became heavier, faster. Closer. The beast had already caught my scent and was running in my directions, there was no mistaking it. With no place to hide, I cast a barrier spell, hoping that would at least prevent the beast from bludgeoning me to death. The air surrounding me became warm and appeared to be shimmering. I could hear the manticore break into a gallop and let out a deep, guttural howl. Quite imposing, yet I had heard more threatening sounds before. Cillian had sounded scarier as a strix. I could see the trail the manticore was leaving. A long advancing dent in the flowers, a dark line curving and swinging as it made its way toward me. Almost there. I still had five, four, three…

I sprang sideways, rolling in the heather, barely avoiding the beast’s assault. I could hear it stop and breathe heavily, confused and angry. No time to waste. I muttered words most dark and unknown to all those who live. A wall of fire arose around the creature. Despite its invisibility, a shadowy outline could be seen squirming beyond the flames. None may escape those flames. I only hoped I could maintain them long enough, until Nevermore came back. I could not.

In my carelessness, I let the barrier fall apart, certain none but the beast could threaten me in this endless moor. How foolish of me. I had had my doubts, and yet I set them aside for this goal. The blow to the side sent me flying to the ground, making me nearly lose my grip on the wall of fire, which did get noticeably smaller. Another hastily erected barrier and a makeshift sword made of fire was all I could muster while maintaining the beast’s cage. This was enough to stop the oppressor’s blade from reaching me. I clutched the Eye with my left hand as I gazed into the grey eyes filled with hate, staring back into mine from beneath sandy hair.

The Fabulous Misadventures of Matoya, the Witch III (2/2)

“Aye,” Bertha nodded. “Those two say they be chasing that monster, yet I’ve yet to see any chasing from them. I let them stay, hoping they would do something about this.”

The two men started whispering to each other yet again. “And the beast has escaped?” I asked.

“I fear it is still somewhere near. The animals are behaving most peculiar. And I can still smell it. That stench.”

I could not smell anything. To be frank, I had a hard time believing Bertha’s story. I knew of no invisible beasts. Such things most likely did not exist.

“Ye say people had their intestines ripped out of them?” Isolde asked, her blonde locks shaking violently as she hopped up and down with excitement. I could hear Cillian take a deep breath. His face became pale as a sheet once again. “I think ye know of such creatures, Matoya.”

“Aye, there are a couple. A manticore seems most likely, considering how often they lose their way on the moors. But no manticore can hide itself from sight, sister.”

“There are tales in the North,” Cillian began. Everyone’s attention turned to the red-headed lumberjack in an instant. The rosiness returned to his face twofold, as he hesitated, coughed, scratched his beard once, and began once again, his gaze fixed on his feet. “I meant to say, in the North people talk a lot about warlocks carrying out nasty rituals on all manner of creatures. They say dogs came back without tails, ducks came back with teeth, and that… and that cats went all invisible like. Them birds never knew what got them.”

“Beg pardons, Cillian, but ye’d be better off ignoring such country gossip,” I told him, his electric blue eyes now fixed on me. “What the country folk understand of the intricacies of magic is simply pitiful. Such stories have as much merit to them as–“

“I fear your companion is correct, m’lady,” a voice deep enough to reach the very darkest, most locked away secrets of my soul, interrupted me. For an instant, I was in shock. I turned to see the two men that proclaimed to be chasing the beast standing right behind me. They pulled down their hoods, at which point I realized their cloaks were clasped with the gryphon sigil – they were none other than the Knights of Haegyn. The one who spoke to me was forty to fifty years of age by the looks of him. Deeply set emerald eyes, neatly trimmed dark golden hair, a similarly well-groomed goatee, a nose of ideal proportion and shape covered in numerous scars – his face had an incredible allure to it. The speaker’s partner had a face most gallant as well, if much more youthful and naïve-looking. His sandy hair was longer, though groomed as that of his companion, his grey eyes bigger, his chin clean-shaven. A boy, no more than twenty. Probably a knight of two months, no more. “My apologies for eavesdropping, yet I believe it is no chance that our paths might cross, as I feel we might be of much aid to each other.”

“Ye didn’t seem eager to be chasing down the beast before,” Bertha said with a no little hint of irritation in her voice.

“We stood nary a chance against the creature, m’lady. And yet, with the help of this woman and her companions, we may yet slay the foul beast. For unless I am mistaken, we have been grace by the holder of the Crystal Eye, Matoya.”

I was taken aback. Still, no fear took me. There were only two of them, and I had both Isolde and Cillian at my side – should they try to take the Eye by force, I would come out the victor. And yet, I’d rather not risk anyone’s over it if it could be avoided, now. “Aye, I am Matoya. And if ye know that, ye should just as well know that despite me youthful guise, in truth I am much older than ye can most likely imagine. And I consider addressing me without introducing yerself to the lady first mighty unbecoming of a Knight of Haegyn.”

“My sincerest apologies,” said the green-eyed knight. “As you have properly deduced, we are Knights of Haegyn. They address me as Sir Gilroy and this is my protégé, Sir Alistair.”

“And why is it that ye assume we can help each other in this predicament, Sir Gilroy?”

“We both strive for the same result – vanquishing the foul creature. We were sent here by our retainer to bring peace to this moor, as there have been rumours of an invisible beast bringing destruction to the area for some time now. Yet our scouting party has dwindled along the way. Many fell victim to the beast. In the end, it is only Alistair and I that are alive. We know how to track down the beast, yet we stand no chance against it alone. You, however, m’lady, are knowledgeable about beasts of all shapes and sizes, and your spell-slinging abilities are known throughout the land. And thus, I implore you. M’lady, will you do us the honour of helping us liberate this region of the bane that is the invisible manticore?”

The two knights knelt down on one knee each, but only Sir Gilroy lowered his head. Sir Alistair fixed his gaze into me, which seemed incredibly odd. I could see Isolde’s face become blood red once again. A peculiar sense of satisfaction always overcame me whenever I saw that expression. Still, I knew something was wrong with all this. I knew knights had their duties to fulfil, but someone had to have sent them on a mission specifically to track down this foul beast. And they know what it is. And yet, as Bertha kept looking at me pleadingly, I knew that there was no avoiding this. For what good is it being a witch if you’re not a good witch?

“Fine,” I said to them. I could feel the looks Cillian and Isolde were giving me, but it had to be done. “Sir knight, know that we shall aid ye.”

The Fabulous Misadventures of Matoya, the Witch III (1/2)

The Cornerstone Inn was a peculiar case. A large wooden shack near Pilgrim’s Road, squarely in the middle of an endless moor. Such establishments often fall prey to all manner of filth, becoming nothing more than flea-ridden whorehouses frequented only by the most violent of rapists, most conniving of bandits, and most deadly of assassins. And yet, the Cornerstone Inn had somehow managed to retain its glamour. It remained clean of all lowlifes, likely due to the influence of its intimidating innkeeper, Bertha, that old hag. A feisty old woman she was, hard as a rock, stern and unwavering. Any bastard ready to stir up a fight would face a cruel fate. That fate being Bertha’s iron fist. Bertha was never one to be messed with and that was a fact few remained ignorant to.

The day we reached the establishment had been long and tiresome indeed. We’d been walking since dawn, having left mere moments after Leofwyn had delivered the news of our summons. I would not pass up the chance to meet with the Grand Hierophant, especially considering all the happenings of late. The Lord of Malady was making his move, there was no mistaking it. There was hope that this world could finally be put to rights.

And thus we’d packed our things, obscuring our cottage from sight with the eye’s power, and left. I should not complain, however, lest I express disrespect for one of my companions. It was Cillian who was carrying the lot of our possessions, with more than a shade of effort showing on his face. As the sun turned a dark orange, our shadows grew longer and darker, and the outline of a small inn grew larger, patches of dark sweat would appear on his tunic, the crystal eye on his neck swaying back and forth as he struggled to keep his balance under the huge weight of our entire stash. Isolde walked beside him, after she decided she had had enough of badgering me. Her mouth would not close even once throughout the entire journey, be it throwing insults or attempting at banter. As she hopped around between me and Cillian, the crystal eye on her neck bounced around dangerously, as if it could fall any minute. It would be no harm, however, if the chain holding the crystal in place broke. Neither of the two eyes were real, for the genuine article hung on my neck. As we’d decided I was the most potent spellslinger at the moment, much to Isolde’s wild protests. Thus, it would be safest with me. The copies would serve as a perfect distraction. Provided we only encounter shadow men and complete magical dimwits.

All the while Nevermore was making circles in the sky above us, occasionally perching on my shoulder. The bird seemed to be far more attached to me after the recent events. If only his bird brain could comprehend how ironic that was.

“See, Gillian? We’re here,” Isolde squeaked with glee. “I told ye ye needn’t heave so much.”

“That’s…” Cillian was gasping for breath, his face paler than his usual pink shade. “That’s a… bloody relief,” and with that remark, his knees finally yielded under the tremendous weight. He lay flat on his face right in front of the inn. I hurried to help him up while Isolde picked up all reagents that had spilled out of his bag. In all the hustle and bustle I failed to immediately notice something was not as it should be. The walls of the inn were all battered and scratched, the windows smudged with something that looked suspiciously like blood. It was unlike Bertha to let such a thing happen to her prized establishment.

When Cillian was finally up, I opened the door to the inn. I had expected to hear a murmur of conversations, mixed with some laughter and general jubilation. Instead, I was met with complete silence, broken only by the sizzling fireplace, by which two shady gents were apparently having a conversation until we entered, at which point they raised their heads to look at us.

“Matoya,” a gruff voice came to my left. I turned and saw the plump old woman standing at the counter. Her pursed lips resembled no more than a thin line drawn on a scraggly grey map of wrinkles and fat. Her face was as stern as ever, yet there was something unsettlingly fragile about the blueness of her eyes, the wiriness of her tangled white hair. She seemed to have shrunk two heads since I last saw her, but still ready to punch anyone that dared voice concern or pity. “Ye sure chose the perfect time to rear yer ugly head.”

“Bertha, good to see ye,” I said. The jolly tone of my voice did little to appease Bertha, however. “Pray tell, what has befallen this place. We were expecting to rest here on our way, yet I can see something is clearly amiss.”

“And right ye are. Perceptive as always, Matoya,” the old hag replied with a wry smile. “Why don’t ye sit at one of the tables. Yer companion looks like he could pass out any minute. I’ll bring each of ye something to drink and then I can tell ye everything. Of course, I expect ye to do something about this madness.”

And so we sat down. Cillian let out a sigh of relief. Bertha approached us with four mugs of frothy liquid. One was smaller than the others, filled with something else. She placed it in front of Isolde, much to my sister’s displeasure. “And what the bloody hell is this?”

“I don’t care how olde ye really are, Isolde,” Bertha said. “But now ye are a child and a child won’t be drinking any ale in my tavern.”

Isolde threw her a hateful gaze, then looked to me. She too knew that there was no arguing with the old woman, so all my face could express at this point was helplessness. As if searching desperately for a way out of this humiliation, she turned to Cillian. He nudged her to drink whatever she had in her cup. Red as a raddish, she finally gave in and hid her face behind the large stone mug.

“Let me tell ye what happened, Matoya,” Bertha said as she took a sip of her drink. “A beast the likes of which ye’ve never seen has raided this place.”

“I’ve seen plenty of beasts, my dear Bertha.”

“Aye, yet this one ye haven’t. It can’t be seen. Something invisible has come in and slaughtered two men. It flayed them on the spot. Never seen so much guts on the floor in me life. The rest of the guests fled.”

I could hear Cillian gulp. Isolde had her eyes fixed on Bertha. This time, they were  shining with curiosity. I’ve also noticed the two men at the fire place were listening in on our conversation. “All but two,” I said, gesturing toward the hooded figures.

Crosswords II (2/2)

“This is some serious bullshit, bro,” Freddie grunted.

“I agree,” Jess added. “Where did you get that disc?”

“It’s part of my job.”

“Yeah, well,” said Freddie, “if what’s on the disc is so secret and important, and we had it, how the hell did you fool them into thinking they got the real thing?”

“The DVD has this chip, or something,” Martin explained. “You saw them scan the disc for it. I just made it seem like that dummy disc had the same thing on it. I also added it to this,” he pulled out another golden disc out of his back pocket. I started to wonder if there were more. “Crosswords. The ones I thought I’d left with you. That way, even if they find us, we can stall them once again with a fake DVD.”

Freddie seemed completely baffled by the response. “How did you do that? Cause I can tell you, bro, that’s not how fucking data encryption works.”

“Well, it does in my line of work.”

“Just what the fuck do you do for a living, Martin?”

“Oh, you know,” Martin smirked. “I just type in those numbers.”

“Just drop it, Freddie,” Mia entered the conversation just when Freddie rolled his hand into a fist. “He never told me, he sure as hell won’t tell you. Still, we’re all in a pretty sticky situation now. They will find out the DVD is just filled with movies and come back. Martin says they’ll know where to look for you, so we only have one option now.”

“We need to run,” I didn’t notice when Brandi came up to us, but there she was, standing right between Jess and Freddie, her cloud of blonde hair shining briliiantly in the sunlight. Ian was just behind her, slightly taller than the others. He was looking much better, even if his hair was still slightly tangled.

“Yes, thank you, Brandi,” said Martin.

“L-like, now?” I asked. My voice was trembling. “Where to?”

“I was instructed to take the disc to a certain small town in New Mexico if a situation like this arose,” Martin’s voice, by contrast, was completely composed, almost monotone. I could never wrap my head around the way he could shift moods so quickly.

“New Mexico?” Ian joined the conversation, fixing up his wide-framed glasses that had gone askew during the stickup. A wide grin appeared on his face, his blue eyes bright with enthusiasm. “That means we’re going on a roadtrip!”

“If that’s what you want to call it, be my guest,” Martin smirked at him. Goddamnit, Martin, nobody’s your guest! This is my house! “We just have to leave now. Go back home and pack as fast as you can. We’re also going to need a bigger car, if we all want to fit in one vehicle. I was thinking–”

“Yeah, sure, we can use our van! Right Freddie?” Ian said.

“We’re just gonna need to fill her up and we’re good to go,” Freddie replied

“No,” I said. I tried to sound as confident as possible. It worked. My voice was low in pitch, stable and strong, almost monotone, just like Martin’s a few seconds ago. Everyone’s eyes turned toward me. “I’m not going anywhere. And I have no idea why you’re all so cool with this.”

“Leo, we really don’t have time for this,” Martin insisted.

“How do you expect me to just believe you like that? Why us? Why can’t you just take your stupid disc to your stupid New Mexico yourself? I mean, we all have jobs, we can’t just go like that!”

“Actually, Leo,” Ian started. “It’s summer, remember? You and I have a break in the summer. That’s kinda what you get for working at a school.”

“And I’m kinda in the middle of changing jobs now anyway, so,” Brandi added.

“And I’m sure Freddie and I can arrange a couple days off with our bosses,” this time it was Jess. I gave her a look that was meant to express betrayal, I was sure she would back me up. She didn’t seem to notice, though. “Right, Freddie?”

“Sure. If that’s what can save us from getting shot down by those two, I’m down with the idea. I think they’ll understand,” Freddie grinned at me. “C’mon, Leo. Martin’s our friend. I mean, I wanna punch his fucking guts out for letting all of this happen, but what’s done is done. I can tell he’s speaking the truth. Hell, even if he’s lying, I don’t wanna take any chances on any of us dying just like that. And you gotta admit, a roadtrip sounds like a shit-ton of fun.”

“As fun as an escape from dudes out to kill us over a fake DVD may be,” I groaned. “Fine. I guess I have no choice now.”

“Martin!” a voice came from the kitchen. It was the black guy that accompanied Martin and Mia. “It’s like you said – they’ve set up explosives all over the foundations. The sooner we ditch this place, the better.”

“But I need to pack!” I exclaimed.

“Don’t you worry about that, bud,” said the handlebar moustache guy. He’d just emerged from the staircase carrying three of my suitcases. “I got ya packed. No need to thank me.”

“What,” I said dryly.

“Right, let’s arrange a meeting spot,” Martin announced. “We all know the wood at the edge of town? That’s where we’ll meet up. You guys get your van and pick up the girls once they’re ready. Mia, Leo and I will be waiting for you there.”

“Right! Come on, Freddie,” Ian was brimming with energy.

“Alright,” Freddie said as he and Ian made their way to the door. “You guys coming along?”

Before leaving together with Brandi, Ian and Freddie, Jess gave me a reassuring tap on the shoulder. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Any of it. Was that another purely platonic touch, or did the sensual encounter the two of us had in my head actually happen? Everything was happening so fast. One minute we’re having a party and then we’re going to New Mexico with some stupid DVD, hoping the MIB won’t kill us along the way. I just… I looked at Martin. He was discussing something with his entourage, his face stern, stoic. Just that look on his face made me lose all composure. I’d had enough of that attitude, and yet I had no choice. Fuck Martin. Like, seriously, what the fuck.

Crosswords II (1/2)

“I got your disc right here,” Martin brushed his blonde bangs off his forehead. He reached down the back pocket of his jeans and held the object up against his face for everyone to see. The golden DVD gleamed  in the sunlight. Funny, the envelope was gone. And I was pretty sure the last person who had it was Jess. I didn’t think asking them about all this would be appropriate in this situation, however. In front of me, the bald man in the sunglasses pointed his gun straight at Jess. The other guy – a big, scary-looking dude – was aiming at Ian. Jess seemed pretty calm about this. She breathed some air up her face, her black bangs billowed in the wind for a split second. If anything, she looked slightly annoyed. Ian wasn’t faring so well. His slouch and his eyes closed shut made him look as if he was paralyzed with immense fear. Freddie was staring daggers at the big suited guy, but he remained silent. I could tell he was ready to rip him apart for all this. His face and ears were red, trembling with rage and helplessness, eyes barely visible underneath thick black eyebrows that came closely together in the fury he was hold back. Brandi seemed completely unfazed by this stickup, however. Sure, she was holding her arms in the air like the rest of us, but other than that she would just roll her head around slowly, as if stretching after a long workout, and that’s when she wasn’t ostentatiously yawning. I was pretty sure she was taunting them. I could hear Martin’s shallow but controlled breath behind me. “Come and get it. Just let them all go.”

I looked back at Martin. He seemed absolutely calm but for the single drop of sweat that trickled down his forehead. The sunlight reflected in his glasses obscured his eyes from view. Mia stood by his side, her black, slanted eyes cold and fixed on the larger of the two oppressors. Her hair, tied in an elegant high ponytail, was orange – this came as a surprise to me, as I didn’t remember her sporting that bright color at the party. But then again, I was completely wasted back then. The two other men that accompanied them were complete strangers to me. One of them was black and lanky with a fierce look on his face, the other was a white-man in his forties or fifties, heavy-set and balding, with a reddish handlebar moustache. Just where did Martin get those two?

“It’s not going to be that simple, you know that,” the bald man in a suit sneered. “I come over to you guys, I’m Swiss cheese. I mean, you’re still gonna lose – my buddies are on their way – but I don’t think I want to throw my life away just yet. Toss it here. Or do you want Bubba here to shoot the fat one in the knee?”

“Over my fucking dead body, you piece of shit!” Freddie growled. Ian let out a soft whimper.

“Chill out, Freddie,” I could hear Brandi whisper to him. “One wrong move and Ian’s toast. You’ll help him more by keeping quiet.” Freddie’s ears didn’t get any less red, however. I glanced at Jess and tried to give her a reassuring smile, but I felt my lips tremble as I did. In the end, it was her subtle smile that reassured me.

“That won’t be necessary,” Martin’s voice was cold and distant. I could barely believe he could control himself so well. If only he kept this cool during our crossword meetings. With an elegant flick of the wrist, he sent the disc flying towards the guys in suits. The bald man caught it between his fingers right in front of his Roman nose. The one he called “Bubba” pulled out something out of his left pocket while still pointing his gun at Ian. He hovered the contraption over the DVD, as if scanning for something. With a soft beep, a green light flashed on its surface.

“Good boy,” the bald guy smirked. “Well, Bubba, looks like our job here is done. Now, if you would kindly let us take our leave.”

“Be my guest,” said Martin. You know what, Martin? Why don’t you have your guests visit your own damn place!

The two men kept pointing guns at us regardless as they made their way to their vehicle. Everything actually went pretty smoothly. They closed the doors to their car, then drove away, just like that. Heck, Bubba even got out the car before they drove off completely, came back, put the sofa back together and left me a check to make up for the losses. Then they finally disappeared out of sight, leaving us all in a stunned silence. One, two, three seconds later, we let out a collective sigh of relief. Freddie rushed towards Ian, almost making Brandi trip in the process. I stood there, relieved to the point of being paralyzed. I couldn’t move an inch. It wasn’t until Jess threw her arms around me that I came to my senses. We both started laughing. It was a moment of pure bliss. It couldn’t last long, though, as Martin made sure he had our absolute attention with that annoying cough he always did. We let go, not looking back at each other’s faces again. My moment was gone, my chance missed, my grumpiness escalating.

“I don’t mean to be a killjoy, but we don’t have much time,” Martin said, as he took off his glasses, rubbing his blue eyes with his fingers. He waved his other hand at the two strangers and they scurried out of sight. They seemed to be looking for something. Mia took that hand into hers and tapped Martin gently on the shoulder, then picked up where he’d left off. “We can’t stay here any longer. We need to go, quick.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. “Why? What’s wrong? You gave them the disc, it’s over, right?”

“Wrong,” I heard Freddie say in a dangerously calm voice from behind me. I turned around – he was slowly walking in Martin’s direction, lean and threatening as a panther. He pulled out a circular, golden object out of his back pocket, and stopped right next to me. “I think we deserve an explanation. Wouldn’t you agree, Leo?”

“I don’t–”

“We really don’t have time for all this,” Martin put his glasses back on. “Yes, I gave them a fake disc and we all need to get out of here. They will pursue each and every one of us until this case is resolved.”

“What case?” Jess asked as she folded her hands. “Seriously, Martin. What the hell is going on?”

“Stop asking your stupid questions and just listen to me for once, okay?!” Martin suddenly shouted. His face went instantly red. He took a few deep breaths. “All I know is that whatever’s on this disc is top secret and those people want it. I can’t let them have it.”