Epoch (12 page)

With a stomachload of dread, Vincent watched as Rennik attacked Clara. The pixie hovered in the doorway, frozen with fear. She would have died then and there, had not a Text of the Triumvirate struck Rennik in his wings.

“Got him!” Max cried triumphantly.

The blow knocked the demon down a full meter, and he flew under the terrified pixie and through the doorway.

Clara unfroze and sped at the window, shattering it with a loud crash. Vincent got up and hurried to the door, planning to shut the demon out. He’d gotten two paces before Rennik charged back in and bolted for the broken window.

Without thinking, Vincent leapt and grabbed the demon by the right leg. It hurt to hang on, but hold on he did, and his extra weight pulled the demon away from the window and into the nearest wall. With a loud crunch Rennik bit his way through, and dragged Vincent through the hole into the next room.

The room was the same size as Vincent and Max’s, and also contained two beds and a window. The beds were occupied by teenage girls, one of whom Vincent did not know. She let out a startled scream, as did Vincent when he recognized the girl in the second bed.

It was Chanteuse, and she looked terrible. Her face was bruised and bandaged, but her eyes were open and alert. Grimbowl sat beside Chanteuse, and when he saw the demon he shrieked in terror.

Rennik stopped suddenly and spun around, shaking Vincent loose. He crashed into the bedside table between the two beds, spilling the girls’ breakfast tray all over himself.

“Ow!” Vincent moaned as he fell from the bedside table to the floor.

“Ow!” Rennik cried, clutching at his head. He had hurt Vincent, and his punishment was intense.

Great, Vincent thought. All I’ve got to do is get him to hurt me a lot, and we’ll have him on the ropes in no time.

There was another loud crash as Clara burst in through the window. Rennik, who’d turned his attention to Grimbowl, looked up in time to see the pixie snatch a piece of glass from the air and jam it at him like a dagger. The impact knocked him back a meter, but the glass failed to puncture his skin. Laughing, Rennik swatted Clara away, then chased after her.

“What’s going on here?” a nurse asked, poking her head through the doorway.

Clara flew at the door, then swerved left at the last second. The confused demon plowed into the door, slamming the nurse’s head and knocking her cold.

“Aaagh!” Rennik cried, clutching his head while he spun around in agony. Clara grabbed the bedside table Vincent had crashed into, hauled it into the air, then used it like a battering ram to shove Rennik out of the window. Vincent heard a crunch, which he correctly guessed was the sound of the pixie stuffing the bedside table into the window, effectively blocking it up.

That won’t hold Rennik long, Vincent thought as he tried to stand back up. The two girls’ purses had spilled their contents on the floor, and the plastic tray had dumped its load on his bedshirt. One of the purses was definitely Chanteuse’s; it was sewn by hand, and the hairspray and lipstick were made from all-natural, organic ingredients.

Those won’t be useful against a demon, Vincent thought even as he scooped scrambled egg and pancakes from his chest. They’re all natural ...

A big thought jumped out of his head. It didn’t just nag at Vincent, it grabbed him by the brain stem and shook it violently. Unfortunately, the teen girl in the other bed interrupted him.

“Where’s my purse?” she said. “Hey, that’s my breakfast!”

“Sorry … Lori,” Vincent said, spying her nametag on the side of the other purse. “Tell you what, breakfast is on me.”

He looked up and saw Clara and Grimbowl arguing with each other on Chanteuse’s bed. Clara wanted to fight the demon, which would be returning momentarily to finish them off. Grimbowl was of the opinion they should run and not look back.

“Clara, Grimbowl, stop fighting and get over here,” Vincent called, and grabbed a handful of scrambled egg. “Let me put this on you. It’ll hide your taste before … ”

The bedside table in the windowsill exploded into splinters as Rennik smashed his way through it. Clara zoomed forward and shoved Vincent back onto Lori’s bed, saving him from a face full of wooden spikes.

“Hey! Get off me!” Lori said shoving Vincent off her bed. As he fell, his head whacked Clara, and in her dazed state she tumbled straight toward Rennik’s open mouth.

It would have been the end of her, if Max hadn’t thrown the door open and whacked Rennik on the side of the head. He spun end-over-end toward Chanteuse’s bed, and landed hard on her stomach.

“Oof!” Chanteuse groaned.

“Ow!” Rennik cried, clutching his head once more.

Whump, went the sound of Clara landing on the floor, out cold.

“Vincent!” Max said, ignoring the others as he spotted his brother. “Are you hurt?” He rushed over, stepped on something round and smooth, and fell backward onto his bum. The round and smooth thing flew forward and pinged off Vincent’s face.

“Ow,” Vincent whined. This just wasn’t his day.

Rennik stood up on Chanteuse’s stomach and spotted Grimbowl at the end of the bed. He started toward the elf, but Chanteuse sat up and grabbed his legs.

“No, you don’t!” she said.

“Yes I do!” Rennik said, flapping his wings and pulling Chanteuse with him.

Grimbowl leapt off the bed onto Max, who’d just been getting up. Max fell back and Grimbowl rolled off him, then the elf made a break for the door. Miss Sloam entered just then, and Grimbowl ran straight into her. He fell back and Rennik charged, dragging Chanteuse behind him.

“Stay away from my daughter!” Miss Sloam roared, throwing a roundhouse punch into the side of Rennick’s body. He flew back toward the window, his mouth closing on air, while Chanteuse lost her grip on him and fell to the floor.

“Chanteuse!” cried Miss Sloam, reaching down and picking her daughter up. “I was so worried, I thought I would lose you.”

“Oh, Mother!” Chanteuse cried and threw her arms around her mother’s neck. “I’m all right.”

Max helped Vincent back to his feet. Vincent was in more pain than he could stand, but hearing Chanteuse’s voice again almost made him forget it. Almost. But he was as close to feeling good as it was possible for him to be.

Rennik recovered, then flew out of Miss Sloam’s reach. He turned and looked down, and saw both Grimbowl and Clara lying on the floor.

“Such choice,” Rennik said, his mouth open wide. “I choose … the elf!”

Vincent saw the demon start to dive, then he noticed the smooth round thing that had hit him. It had rolled across the floor to the spot where Grimbowl lay, and one word on its side grabbed Vincent’s attention; aerosol.

He lunged forward, reaching for the metal can. In his mind, he saw the demon he’d squirted in the mouth with the processed cheese spray. It had acted more than just a little put out, and Vincent finally knew why. The cheese was processed, filled with chemicals.

Unnatural.

Just like this hair spray. Unlike Chanteuse’s all-natural products, it was filled with environment-killing, ozone-depleting aerosol. And it even had a poison label on its side.

Rennik darted down, straight at Grimbowl’s still form.

Vincent landed on top of Grimbowl, snatched up the can, and sprayed up into the demon’s mouth.

“Whuth?” Rennik said, stopping just above them. At first he was merely surprised, but then he recoiled from the spray and clamped his hands over his mouth.

“Bllluuurghhh!” he cried, his mouth foaming, his wings beating so erratically he fell to the floor. Rennik’s skin changed color, from fiery red to a sickly pink.

“What’s going on?” Chanteuse asked as her mother set her down on the bed. “What did you do to him?”

Vincent said nothing. He tossed the can away, feeling evil for having touched it.

“Hey!” said Lori. “That’s my hairspray!”

Vincent wanted to tear his eyes away from Rennik, but he could not. He felt as if he had to see this, to witness what he had done.

“What have I done?” Vincent asked the room.

“You found something that can hurt a demon,” Clara said, sitting up on the floor where she’d landed. “And you hurt him bad.”

Rennik lay on the floor, foam drooling from his mouth. His wings had shriveled up, his eyes were bloodshot and his tongue ...

“Gaah,” Vincent said, finally able to take no more. “No one deserves that.”

“He did,” Clara said. “And the elf would agree with me.”

“I sure do,” Grimbowl said, picking himself up off the floor. “Nice going, kid.”

“What’s all this?”

They turned and saw Doctor Ritchet in the doorway. He looked around the room in shock, then down at his unconscious nurse on the floor.

“Nurse!” he said, stooping down to check on her. “What happened here?”

“Oh boy,” Vincent said, and tried to think of something fast.

When the nurse had been seen to, Doctor Ritchet returned to Chanteuse’s room and demanded an explanation once more. In that time, Vincent’s mind had been able to come up with exactly squat.

“They were throwing things all over the place,” said Lori, cowering in her bed. “I saw it!”

“We were just … blowing off some steam,” Max said.

“Two broken windows, a hole in the wall, damaged furniture,” Doctor Ritchet said. “That looks like more than just a little ... ”

“Doctor Ritchet to room 308,” a voice called out over the intercom. “Emergency in room 308.”

“I’ll expect to hear a good explanation when I get back,” Doctor Ritchet said, and he hurried out the door.

And a moment later, Grimbowl darted back in.

“Sucker,” he said. “That was easy!”

“That was you?” Vincent laughed.

“Mischievous creature,” Chanteuse said, and there was no mistaking the smile on her face.

Vincent felt good. He was in a mountain of pain, and he might have been responsible for the death of a living creature, but seeing his hurt friend smile at the elf seemed to make everything all right. Grimbowl and Chanteuse were friends again, and all was as it should have been.

There was a commotion in the hallway, followed by several loud thumps. Vincent turned to look at the door, and his good feelings went away. Barnaby Wilkins stood there, and a moment later Bruno and Boots joined him. Bruno held a young teen upside down in his hand: Big Tom.

Oh come on, Vincent thought. Is everyone I hate going to visit this hospital?

“There you are,” said Barnaby as he entered the room. “Did we come at a bad time?” he asked, noting the destruction.

“Who’re those guys?” Lori asked.

“Trouble,” Vincent replied. “What do you want, Barnaby?”

“I want an explanation,” Barnaby said, “for this.”

Bruno hefted Big Tom higher, then waved him like a flag.

“Why did you send him to break into my house?” Barnaby asked, staring at Vincent.

“What,” Vincent asked, “are you talking about?” He’d hoped he might run into Big Tom at some point, so he could apologize for beating on him yesterday. Sadly, these were not the circumstances he’d been hoping for.

“Don’t play dumb,” Barnaby said. “Even though you are. Big Tom said you told him to sneak into my house and steal my dad’s security pass. I want to know what for.”

Vincent looked up at his friend, wondering what had possessed him to break into Barnaby’s house, then blame it on him. Big Tom looked back helplessly, then pointed at his nose. Vincent understood immediately; Big Tom had an obyon in his head. The elves, figuring that Vincent was out of action, had chosen a new slave. Vincent glared at Grimbowl, who shrugged.

“Don’t look at me,” the elf said. “I’ve been here all night.”

“Don’t feel like answering?” Barnaby said, unaware that the elf had spoken. “Okay, we do this the hard way.” And he threw a fist into Vincent’s stomach.

Vincent went down, the air clobbered from his lungs, preventing him from screaming. True, it was not in the chest, but it was close enough. He lay on the floor, trying to suck in air, and Barnaby smiled.

Max reacted first. He swung at Barnaby, but Boots grabbed his fist and twisted his arm behind his back. Clara took off and went for him, but Bruno lashed out his other hand and caught her like a mosquito. She struggled, but could not break free.

Even in his pain, these actions were not lost on Vincent. He can see pixies, Vincent thought. And he’s stronger than her. No human being could be that strong.

“No human being is that strong,” Grimbowl said, reaching the same conclusion. “Those bodyguards are trolls!”

The two bodyguards turned their heads ever so slightly and looked down at him. Grimbowl gulped, then collapsed onto the floor.

“Feel like talking now, loser?” Barnaby said, staring down at Vincent.

“Stop this at once!” Miss Sloam said as she strode forward. “You can’t come in here and hurt people, this is a hospital! You let them go right now, or ... ”

“Shut her up,” Barnaby said.

Boots nodded, and fired his right leg into Miss Sloam’s chest. She crashed backward into the wall hard enough to leave an impression in the plaster, then crumpled to the floor.

“Mom!” Chanteuse cried, hurrying to help her.

“Whu … whu ... ” mumbled Lori, too terrified to scream.

“Woah,” Barnaby said, clearly surprised at what Boots had done. “Is she ... ?”

“Yep,” Boots replied. He looked as if he’d just signed a check or watered a plant; the fact that he’d struck a lethal blow meant nothing at all to him.

“I didn’t mean … I just … wanted her quiet,” Barnaby said, starting to tremble.

“And she’s quiet,” Boots replied.

“You monster!” Chanteuse cried.

“You wanna be next?” said Boots.

“Uh … let’s just go, okay guys?” Barnaby said, backing toward the door.

“We don’t have what we came for,” said Bruno.

“I don’t care any more,” Barnaby said. “Let’s just get out of here, okay?”

“No,” said Bruno.

“No?” Barnaby said, forgetting his horror and shifting gears into flabbergasted. Vincent guessed, correctly, that the guards had never said no to him before.

“This kid tried to break into Alphega Corporate Headquarters,” said Boots, pointing at Vincent. “Twice.”

“Then he sends this twerp,” said Bruno, shaking Big Tom. “He’s gonna tell us why.”

“I said we’re leaving!” Barnaby said. “You do as I say! You’re my bodyguards, and I pay you to do what I say.”

“No,” said Bruno. “Your father’s company pays us to protect the company and its interests.”

“And right now,” said Boots, “finding out what this kid knows is a higher priority than babysitting a spoiled brat.”

“Don’t get us wrong,” said Bruno above Barnaby’s sputters of outrage, “we’ve had some good times with you. Beating up these twerps is a lot of fun.”

“But we have a duty to protect the company from any threat,” said Boots. “And this kid has proven himself to be a threat. So why don’t you shut your piehole and let us do our jobs?”

Barnaby’s mouth opened and shut a few times as he tried to figure out what to say. In the end he said nothing and stepped back, looking utterly defeated.

“Now then,” said Boots, returning his attention to Vincent. “Kid, unless you tell me how much you know, I’m going to snap off your brother’s arms.”

“Better yet,” said Bruno, tossing Big Tom across the room and then clamping Clara in both hands, “start talking, or I squish the pixie.”

Vincent sat back up. “What do you want to know?” he wheezed.

Boots opened his mouth to answer, when suddenly something hit him hard in the back of the head. He stumbled forward, surprised and clearly hurt, and reached a hand to feel his skull.

“What the ... ” he said, looking at his fingers. There was blood on them, his blood, from a long gash up his scalp.

Then, something hit him in the stomach. Bruno doubled over, barely keeping his grip on Clara. And then something slashed his lower arm, just below the wrist. Bruno cried out in surprise, pain, and even fear, and the hand holding Clara flew open.

Boots watched with more than a little interest as his colleague collapsed to the floor, struck down by the invisible force and Clara’s unchained wrath. He stood ready, gripping Max even tighter, and prepared for a sudden attack.

“You.”

He turned and saw Miss Sloam back on her feet beside him. His eyes widened in surprise, but the rest of him didn’t react fast enough. Her fist plowed into his face, crumpling his dark sunglasses and breaking his nose. Boots staggered back, releasing Max as he went, then collapsed onto Lori’s bed.

“Gaah,” said Lori, pulling her feet out from under the thug. “This is way too freaky.”

“Mom!” Chanteuse cried in surprise.

“I thought he’d killed you,” Vincent added, equally surprised at her sudden recovery.

“It takes more than that,” Miss Sloam said, “to kill a troll.”

Chanteuse, Max, and Vincent stared at her, their astonishment reaching the level of open-mouthed shock.

“Mom?” Chanteuse said.

“It’s a long story, dear,” her mother said. “I was going to tell you one day, but ... ”

“I guess this is the day for surprises, huh?”

Everyone turned and looked. It seemed as if the voice had come from the air over Chanteuse’s bed. Vincent stared, and a tiny person came into view.

“Nod!” cried Vincent.

“Nod!” cried Clara, overjoyed.

“That’s right,” said Nod as he peeled off the pocket he’d torn off Chanteuse’s apron. “Reports of my death were just plain wrong.”