James Maxey - Greatshadow

The Deceiver had survived as well, crouched down, hugging the Jagged Heart to his chest, its aura of supernatural cold sparing him from the flame. Tower, too, was untouched; his Armor of Faith gleamed even brighter, as if the flames had cleansed it of the dust and grime it had gathered on our journey. Somehow, Father Ver, standing just behind the knight, wasn’t even singed even though his robes had burned away.

In fact, the only party member missing was No-Face’s corpse. There wasn’t even a pile of ash, just a small rivulet of serpentine liquid metal flowing where his ball and chain had once been.

Father Ver turned toward me. As I studied his face, I realized I could see Tower through him. I wasn’t looking at a man. I was looking at a ghost.

The phantom glared at me, and said, “You cannot be my guide.”

“Nice to see you too,” I said. “Look, you might be here for only a few seconds, so let’s get to the point: it looks like you’re still heading for the spirit world. When you get there, I need you to rescue Infidel. I mean, the War Doll.”

“You mean Princess Innocent.”

“You knew?”

He frowned deeply. “This was just one of many obvious truths I turned a blind eye toward with the goal of ridding the world of Greatshadow.”

“But how could you know? Relic was reading your mind and said you were fooled.”

“I sensed his mental probes instantly,” Father Ver said. “It was a simple matter to command him to see in my mind whatever he wished to see.”

I crossed my arms and shook my head, imitating the same pose of disapproval I had encountered so frequently in my youth. “So you not only kept quiet about things you knew weren’t true, you actively took part in a deception. For shame.”

“Your judgment matters to me not in the slightest,” said Father Ver. “Tower was my friend. I would not deny him his chance to find his lost love. In the end, the Divine Author will deliver the final verdict on my choices. Let us hope… let us hope it was His intention to write a romance.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but he looked heavenward, not caring whether I spoke to him or not. He spread his arms wide as his face was bathed in light from above. I looked to see its source, but there was nothing there.

“Ah,” he said, in a tone half joy, half sorrow. “So that’s the truth of it.”

He pressed his lips together in a wistful smile as the outline of his face wavered. Then he was gone, and all that was left were a few blackened teeth where he had stood.

My attention returned to the danger at hand. I didn’t want to be around if Greatshadow unleashed another inferno. Fortunately, while I had been chatting, Tower had sprung into action, leaping into the air and flying straight toward the dragon. In scale, it was like a bee diving toward a bear’s nose. With both hands, he slammed the Gloryhammer into the center of Greatshadow’s snout. Like a bear stung on the nose, Greatshadow winced and drew his head back. The false-matter tunnel warped and wobbled, allowing the impossibly large beast free movement as he retreated. Tower grabbed the rim of a scaly nostril with his razor-tipped left gauntlet, refusing to give the dragon a second of relief as he rained blow after blow on the creature’s nose.

As Greatshadow departed, Relic spat the bone-handled knife from his mouth into his hand. It had been completely untouched by the flames. The misshaped little dragon shouted to the Deceiver, “We must give chase! Tower needs the Jagged Heart!”

“You’re out of your mind!” shouted Zetetic. “I’d be dead if I wasn’t carrying this. And why should I listen to you? You’re a dragon!”

“A dragon maimed by Greatshadow,” snarled Relic as he wiggled his stunted wings and limped toward the Deceiver. “A dragon whose sole purpose is to see his father suffer and die for the cruelties he’s inflicted.”

“Father? You’re Greatshadow’s son?”

“Possibly.”

“How can you not be sure?”

“I’m definitely his offspring. But I’m uncertain if I’m his son or daughter. Since my genitals are internal and I’ve not yet matured, this remains-”

“Stop.” Zetetic scrunched up his face and rubbed his closed eyes. “Just stop.”

“You’re uncomfortable discussing sexual biology?” asked Relic.

Zetetic sighed. “It’s one of my favorite topics. But, maybe, right now isn’t the best time to get into this?”

“Agreed. We must help Tower.”

Tower was a fair distance away at this point, still maintaining his assault. There was little Greatshadow could do to remove his annoying assailant while he was in the tunnel, but the second he pulled his head free into the larger chamber beyond, a talon with claws longer than the Jagged Heart swatted Tower away.

The far end of the tunnel became a solid sheet of flame as Greatshadow tried a second time to melt the knight.

“Make yourself immune to flame,” said Relic, grabbing Zetetic by the arm and tugging him.

“I can’t!” cried the Deceiver, planting his feet wide to resist. “There’s no one left to believe my lies! Your reptilian mind is useless to me!”

“Lie to Menagerie. He’s still alive,” said Relic.

“What?” I said.

“What?” said Zetetic.

“No shape-shifting blood magician would neglect to include a tick among his forms,” said Relic. “I sense him now, dug in behind your knee. Nowowon’s magic has robbed him of his humanity, but the Goon is an accomplished survivor.”

Zetetic lifted the hem of his robe and bent over, using the Jagged Heart to balance himself as he twisted to see the back of his leg. Sure enough, there was a little black speck there. “Do ticks have ears? Can he hear me?”

Relic was silent as he stared at the bug.

He shook his head. “Unfortunately, his mental state has been greatly damaged. Perhaps he may recover once he has consumed sufficient blood, but, for now, your skepticism is justified. He’ll be of no use to you.”

“Do you have a second plan?” asked Zetetic.

“As a matter of fact,” said Relic, running the sharp edge of the bone-handled knife along his palm. He sucked in air as a line of bright blood bubbled up.

I was floating near him, watching with interest, a bit off vertical amid the room’s distorted landscape. I fell about a yard as I materialized, landing on the cracked black stone. I instantly leapt up with a yelp; the stone was hot as a furnace. I jumped closer to Zetetic and the Jagged Heart, and while my feet were spared a scalding, I became keenly aware of my nakedness and the possibility of losing toes and other more valued parts to frostbite. I hopped a few feet away, into a zone where the ground was more bearable.

“Stagger is a ghost haunting this knife. His soul manifests physically when the knife drinks the enchanted blood of dragons.”

Zetetic furrowed his brow. Then he shrugged, and said, “I’ve seen crazier stuff. But if I must work with a dead man, I’d rather not be confronted with his private bits. Luckily, I have the power to summon clothing from thin air.”

Instantly, I was dressed in finery; a cream silk shirt tucked into black satin britches with calf-high boots of soft leather. The whole thing was topped with a rather flamboyant red velvet cape.

“That’s handy,” I said. “Have you ever thought of earning a living as a tailor?”

“It wouldn’t work. One limitation of my art is that I can never convince people of the same lie twice.”

“There’s no time for discussion!” said Relic. “We must get the harpoon to Tower. With every passing second, Greatshadow grows closer to victory.”

Zetetic chewed his lower lip. He looked to be in genuine agony as he said, “Every fiber of my being is screaming I should run. But… Nowowon’s little hallucination trap may not have worked the way Greatshadow would have wanted. We can’t end this merely by wounding the beast, or even annoying him. Humanity may pay the ultimate price for our failure. I’m in.”