Celebromancy (16 page)

Well, one woman, one man, and a cart. Drake had lingered at the Market for seemingly no better reason than to escort her back.
For a guy who’s dating one of your best friends, he’s awfully chummy
, a voice in her head nagged as they made their way through the poorly lit, could-be-romantic tunnels.

As Ree started to turn the cart around a corner to get on the last stretch to Grognard’s, all the lights in sight went out at once, like someone hit a switch.

“Oh, bother,” Drake said.

Well, frak me
, Ree thought, reaching for her lightsaber.

Chapter Twelve

Nothing Good Happens after 2 AM

Traveling in Pearson’s sewers is a terrible idea. Unless you want to avoid the gangbangers on the west end, if you need to get to the Market, Grognard’s, or any of the other dozen hot spots built under the Pearson that most people know.

So basically, you have to do it, even when you don’t want to.

Walk quietly, carry plenty of ammunition, avoid the gnomes, and whatever you do, don’t let your light go out.

—Eastwood, personal correspondence with Branwen nic Catrin, December 8, 2003

Ree’s lightsaber lit the tunnel in a pale-blue light, revealing hundreds of tiny shadow-bat things that looked disturbingly similar to the not-so-friendly fauna from
Pitch Black
.

She waved the lightsaber, trying to get a better look at the creatures as the light passed over them. They shied away from the light, clinging to the walls and hovering in the air on hummingbird wings.

“The fuck?” Ree asked.

“I’m afraid I have no idea, Ms. Ree,” Drake said, his voice thin, tense. Drake touched something at his neck, and light spread out to his front like a wearable flashlight.

“Lucretia? Is this one of your tricks?” Ree shouted, making a guess as to who might be responsible for her current probably-going-to-die predicament.

There was no answer, just the sound of claws on stone and wings flapping in the air. The creatures clustered together, forming a near-solid mass.

That’s not good
, Ree thought. And then, of course, they charged.

Ree cut a swath through the creatures, jumping to the side as they hit. She avoided the majority of the attacking swarm, only taking slashes and bites along her legs and abdomen. The pain hit her like a splash of still water pushed off of an awning. But she gave as good as she got, a handful of creatures hitting the sewer floor in smoking pieces.

Drake’s rifle fired several times, green light from the blasts mixing with her lightsaber’s blue. More creatures fell, but the mass continued, rolling off the wall and coming at Ree again.

Fucking Swarm rules
, Ree thought, biting back the pain. The saber and Drake’s gun wouldn’t do nearly enough damage to keep them alive for long. The light seemed to deter the creatures a bit, but she needed bigger guns.

“On me!” Ree said as she bolted behind the cart and pawed for the panic button that Grognard had installed. The creatures swarmed over the mobile bar, carving gashes into the wood and doing their best to shred it to kindling. Ree knocked over glasses and spilled bottles as she searched, trying to avoid the shards of now-broken glass. She reached out with her legs and hooked them around Drake’s waist as she depressed the button.

There was a fat
whoom
sound, and Ree felt a burst of energy push out, washing over her and knocking the creatures back and away. A dome of energy rippled around the cart at a diameter of about ten feet, and the claws and bites of the creatures strained against it.

Grognard had enchanted the cart with a circle of protection, fed by a small gas oven that used Land cards from
Magic: The Gathering
for kindling.

“With a full deck, it should last about five minutes, less for every bit of constant attack. Pray you won’t need it,” the bald bartender had told her the first night he sent her out to Market.

Ree looked back from the mass of creatures to Drake, who stared around with wide eyes. “Quite remarkable!” he said, shifting his weight to sit up. “If you don’t mind, Ms. Ree.” He looked down to her legs, which were still vise-gripped around Drake’s midsection.

“Sorry,” Ree said, letting go with her legs and finding her own feet, careful to keep the lightsaber clear of the cart, any body parts, and the dome of energy. The lightsaber was still their brightest source of light and omnidirectional, unlike Drake’s shotgun-spray amulet.

Ree stood, inspected the cart for damage, and pronounced it fit to haul ass. She called Drake over, and the two of them pushed the cart, Ree on the right, holding the lightsaber off to the side for light. She’d be better off getting out her actual flashlight, but a flashlight wouldn’t do her a fat lot of good if the circle of protection gave out before they got back to Grognard’s.

She couldn’t call the store for help, since the store’s cell signal extended about three-and-a-quarter to five feet beyond its sewer entrance, despite Grognard’s best efforts. So all they could do was book it back to the store. That and pray.

“It’s not far,” Ree said, as much for herself as to encourage Drake.

Drake strained against the cart, which wobbled like a drunken kitten, thanks to a cracked axle. “I am doing my right best, Ms. Ree.” He had a determined look on his face, along with scratches and bruises, including a welt that was swelling his right eye shut, half-blinding him. Ree knew she was probably just as bad off, but that was pretty far down her list of worries. Said list had gotten so big it no longer fit in the overhead compartment of her short-term attention.

More than a hundred feet down the tunnel, Ree saw lights on, including the blue bulb that signaled the store entrance. The creatures continued to slam into the sphere, their impact like heavy rain on a windshield. If rain had teeth, claws, and off-white eyes.

Inside the bubble, the air wasn’t circulating, instead recycling the smells of sweat and fear from the two of them, and the sharp scent of burning cards.

“Almost there!” Ree said, pushing harder, trying to keep the cart steady.

The left wheel, closer to the sewer side of the ledge hit something, making the whole cart lurch. Ree held on to the right side, but as it bounced back to the concrete, it veered left, the desperate momentum she and Drake had built carrying it straight off the side and into the river of sewage in the middle of the tunnel. And this with the blue light of Grognard’s and the promise of safety less than eighty feet away.

With the cart thus felled, the protective circle filled out, creating a full sphere. The lightsaber slipped from her hands and reverted to its prop form, rolling around in the base of the sphere.

“Goddamned monkey fuck!” Ree shouted, pitching with the cart as the sphere bobbed up and down in the muck. In the faintest blue light, Ree saw impressions of the creatures pressing at the edge of the bubble, teeth chittering with excitement like a tomcat eying a wounded bird.

But this bird is no fledgling
, Ree thought, pawing through her bag, taking the moments to search for the flare she’d buried somewhere near the bottom. Ree stood and held up the flare, her feet making waves of energy on the shield.

“What now?” Drake asked, balanced on the curve of the sphere like it was a mountain slope, his rifle gripped in his left hand.

The shield held for the moment, but Ree didn’t want to bet that Grognard had designed the stove-crucible-magic thing to take this kind of abuse. Ree looked to the blue light, hoping that just maybe, Grognard had stayed late and heard the crash.

“Fuck,” Ree said, thinking.

“I do not imagine that is the plan?” Drake said, managing a half-rakish smile.

“Perv.” Ree answered his grin by sticking her tongue out. She waved the unlit flare at his rifle. “Do you have a flamethrower setting on that thing?”

Drake’s eyes went wide for a moment, but he reached into his coat and pulled out a red-orange crystal. He pulled a slide and removed the green crystal, replacing it with the red. “This will not last long, I’m afraid. The rate of energy consumption removes the possibility of a sustained gout.”

Ree scanned around and noticed that the sphere of energy had gotten tighter, the creatures pressing in. Ree dropped to the shimmering floor of the wedged-in sphere and found the edge of her lightsaber, snatching the prop back up and holding it ready in her right hand.

“I don’t think we have time for a better plan.” She didn’t have the right cards on hand to get them both to safety. For a sideboard that big, she’d need to carry around whole folders like Uncle Joe.

“When I drop the shield, you blast a path in front of us, and we make a run for it,” she said, speaking to Drake but keeping her eyes on the creatures.

She waited, hoping for a shift in their tides that they could use, but the waves were too close together, the creatures relentless in their assault.

Persistent buggers, aren’t you?

“Ready?” she asked. Drake had shifted his weight onto the cart, which would be the only solid ground once the shield disappeared. She joined him, then said, “Go!” as she pressed the button.

All at once, the dome vanished, Ree’s lightsaber ignited, the beam passed through the tip of the flare, lighting it as well, and Drake opened fire, his rifle throwing a cone of flame ten feet long and five feet wide at the end. Ree and Drake jumped off the cart and onto the walkway.

Ree spun the lightsaber and flare around her as she cut a defensive pattern over herself and Drake, turning as she dashed forward, trying to cover all angles of attack. The two of them moved in concert. Drake fired belches of flame from his rifle as the creatures massed and pressed the attack, then lowered his weapon as Ree’s blade spun around through the space he’d just occupied.

“Run!” Ree said, letting Drake outpace her. She turned and spun the lightsaber in a figure eight behind her as she sprinted.

The creatures followed on her heels like collections agents from hell, even as the flame and saber cut them down by the dozen. Ree felt cuts accumulate on her arms, legs, and back, but ahead she saw Drake throw open the door, granted access to the warded door by virtue of his membership in Grognard’s list of trusted clients.

Drake said, “Slide!” and without thinking, Ree dove to her side as Drake fired a blast through where she’d been, burning off a cluster of the creatures. The two of them scrambled inside, pulling on each other. Ree hauled the door closed, endlessly glad for the part of the enchantment that rendered the door nearly weightless to members and staff.

The door slammed closed, and Ree pawed for the drop latch. Once it slammed into place, Ree found the light switch to illuminate the room.

Grognard had clearly gone home, as the place was already spotless, and totally empty.

Ree deactivated her lightsaber and slumped to the floor.

Fuuuuuck
, Ree thought as she gasped, catching her breath. Her lungs burned like a brush fire doused in kerosene. She looked to Drake, who had dropped to one knee, panting.

“So what in the name of Riddick was that?” Ree asked.

Drake raised an eyebrow. His gaps in pop culture knowledge were closing, but slowly.

“I haven’t a notion, Ms. Ree. But well done, nonetheless. With less astute company, I imagine I’d be being digested presently.”

“Part of you looks like it was already,” Ree said, seeing the man’s many wounds.

“Well, there is that. I’d say a trip to Dr. Wells is in order, except . . .” Drake trailed off, waving to the door.

Ree nodded. Except the doctor was back out there, through the tunnels. Or an amusingly tricky trip through the basement of an Armenian and Turkish apartment building.

Grognard had a full medical kit in the back room, and between the two of them, they patched up the worst of their cuts and bites. When all the gauze was said and done, Drake looked like he’d joined a Fight Club populated by goblins, but he wasn’t going to bleed out any time soon.

Ree didn’t look any better. “Okay, we can take the easy way out here, but I’ve got to leave a note for Grognard to try and lessen the chance that he’ll rip out my liver and use it to strain his next batch of stout.”

Drake nodded, draping a towel over a stool to keep the blood from staining it as he took a seat.

What the fuck is going on with all this random monstrosity? Did the universe’s GM get a new Monster Manual or something?
Ree pushed aside the implications of the universe running on game supplements as she searched through papers at the bar to find something she could write on and not spoil an artifact or mess up Grognard’s byzantine organization system.

Moving a stack of paperwork, she noticed a gold-plated pocket watch with a sticky note attached to it. The watch had a classic look, analog numbers, burnished metal, and a manual winder.

The handwriting on the note was Eastwood’s.

Kid,

I hear you’ve been tangling with Celebromancers. Thought this might come in handy.

Turn it to 12:16 and Andy’s your uncle.

—E

Ree examined the watch, looked at the note again, then smiled knowingly before stashing the watch in her coat.

Finally discovering a piece of real, honest scratch paper, she started her note to Grognard. She didn’t even try to sugarcoat the situation, since Grognard wouldn’t have any of it.

She even left out her suspicions of who might have been responsible (Lucretia), or what she was going to do to whomever was responsible (description not suitable for professional fucking discourse).

After sticking her note to the cash register, Ree did one more walk around the store, seeing if there was anything she could tidy or take care of to feel like she’d gotten something useful done, given that she had just lost hundreds of dollars in cash, several hundreds more in product, a three-thousand-dollar handmade cart, and Grognard’s totally awesome if ultimately-insufficient shield device.

And on top of that, I left the goggles and tape in the cart. Another $100 down the drain . . . literally.

Not my best day on the job.

She plucked her phone out of her pocket as she walked back to leave with Drake, and saw that she had three voicemails and ten text messages from Jane, Yancy, and Danny. Ree stopped in place as she flipped through the texts, Instant Worry cooking in her stomach as she put the picture together.

But wait, there’s more.
Ree was almost afraid to listen to the voicemails, but listened anyway.

Ree worked her way down the list, then said, “Fuuuuck,” as she set down the phone.

“What is the matter now?” Drake asked, concerned.