It was a relief to see the girls still alive and seemingly unhurt. Of course, they could be set on fire at any moment, but then you couldnât expect everything to go your way. I certainly couldnât.We were hidden behind trees on a rise overlooking the village which consisted of at least a couple of dozen buildings. It was quite a pretty setting for burning people to death. People had gathered around the three stakes to which Jenny, Claire and Flossie were bound. There were thirty or forty people sat on the grass like they were at a summer festival, relaxed, at the back, trying to work out if it was Iggy Pop or the Red Hot Chilli Peppers on the main stage.And then there were the armed guards. Their clothes were more formal, matching in colour and style. They had weapons, although it was hard to tell if they were well-used and stained with dried blood, or made from old tin pots beaten into the approximate shape of the real thing.Even though they had weapons, they di
The villagers bolted for their houses. There was pandemonium as they violently shoved each other in an attempt to not be the first to get eaten alive.Claire had mentioned the children were at risk, but no one seemed very concerned for their welfare at the moment. Some were grabbed and dragged along but many were left to fend for themselves. Those who got trapped underfoot were unceremoniously kicked out of the way.We hapless three, Maurice, Dudley and I, watched them run around without any sense of decorum, in some cases running in the wrong direction and having to correct themselves and run back the way theyâd just come. We did our best to stay out of their haphazard paths.The monsterâs roar, which was like a howl that went on longer and with more modulation than a Mariah Carey live performance, carried on over the top of the villagersâ antics. They disappeared into their homes, diving in through windows and slamming doors behind them.The last few strag
It was the age old story, the band of brave adventurers off to rescue the fair maidens in peril. The stuff of classic fairy tales.This particular version had some slight variations from the traditional tropes, though.The reluctant hero wasnât usually as reluctant as I was, for a start. And the adventurers who set forth tended to have some kind of a chance of being victorious. Joshaya was like the guy in the Magnificent Seven going around collecting an assortment of sharpshooters and cutthroats, only all of them were out when he called, so he had to take us.âWhat do you know about the priestess and her powers?â I asked.âNot much,â said Joshaya. âThereâs seven of them, and theyâll kill you first chance they get. About all you need to know.ââDo you have a plan?ââKill them first.ââHow?âHe shrugged. âSee when we get there. Never tried this before.âVery reassuring.âThis is your fault,â I said to Maurice.â
They say everyone you meet on the way up, you will also meet on the way down â well, not the ones you kill, obviously, they wonât be making any surprise guest appearances, so fuck those guys â but others will remember what you were like when things were going well, and treat you accordingly when you arenât so high and mighty.I think thatâs good advice, up to a point, but my own personal approach is to avoid everyone on the way up and the way down. That way, when they meet you going in either direction, theyâll hopefully have no idea who you are.Sometimes that isnât possible. Sometimes you end up getting embroiled in other peopleâs problems and in those situations, when others need your help, you should treat them kindly and fairly, and get away from them as quickly as possible before their shit infects your life, too.Unless, that is, they have weed.Then you have a friend worth taking to the airport. Not picking up, mind youâthatâs a nightmare and not wor
The morning was spent fishing. Not for fish, though. The frogmen gathered around the edge of the lake, their Frogfather squatting in the middle paying them no mind, and waded through the muddy banks and rushes. They foraged around for slugs and bugs and various slimy critters which they collected in wicker baskets.These werenât small, garden-variety bugs. The slugs were the size of your arm. The other creatures werenât tiny, either. They were all things you would run from your house screaming if you found them in your shower.When all the baskets were full, the Elder gave the order (to be more accurate, he waved everyone away with an irritated grimace), and they lined up in two rows to form a path from the lake to the jungle.They raised their baskets of wriggling unpleasantness and made hooting noises.Pogoâs eyes swivelled in their sockets to look at them. The tip of his tongue slid across his endless lips and shot out from the corner of his mouth, but th
We travelled back to the pond to regroup and assess the situation.âHow are you going to get good enough to beat him?â asked Maurice, a little concerned that his girlfriend was about to get married off to someone with a much better resume than him.âHe didnât give us a time limit, did he?â I said. âYou never know, I might be a quick study. Depends how good a teacher the old geezer is.ââYou want them to wait in there while you spend the next three weeks cultivating your skills in a cave somewhere?â He was starting to get a bit shirty, which was more to do with his concerns for Claire than any genuine animosity towards me. We were in the same boat and we both knew there was no option other than to learn how to sail it.Three weeks, though, was somewhat optimistic.âI donât know how long itâll take. Or even if itâs possible. But itâs bought us some time.âDudley started twitching, which was an indication that he was gearing up to say something he
Despite ragging on the girls for the stupidity of their actions, I wasnât completely oblivious to why theyâd put me in this position. Whatever Claire had seen or Jenny had felt, it was obvious to them that we had to be separated, and quickly.I donât know why, or how they thought weâd react â maybe they didnât have time â but they wouldnât have done what they did if it wasnât the only choice they had.That doesnât mean it wasnât retarded, but you canât blame them for that (or youâd never be able to stop). I had to figure out what to do, regardless of the restrictions. And if I failed, I wanted my epitaph to read: This was your fault. It didnât matter who read it, theyâd know I was right.I spent the next couple of days staring at the blueprint of the castle drawn in the sand. I would throw out a question to the forest every now and again, and occasionally I would get an answer. Life in a fantasy world was a million different types of crazy, plus talking trees. You
Ever have the feeling things arenât the way you thought they were? Thatâs the trouble with winning, it imbues you with confidence, and everything looks good. Makes you think ânearly thereâ is the same as âreally thereâ.Very dangerous thing, confidence. Like any tool, it has its uses, helps you get things done. But if youâre not careful, you can slice your thumb off.Joshaya disappeared in a haze, and we were left in our little glade with the frogmen and one giant frog.âWhat did he mean by that?â said Maurice. âWhat was the prize?âI would have liked to think he was just being an arsehole. Heâd lost and was throwing out a vague threat to make us less smug in victory. Which would be a perfectly reasonable thing to do, if you were an arse. Solid arsehole tactics.But I didnât think that was why heâd said it. It felt much more likely Iâd screwed up and played into his hands.âUm, hey, forest? Gerand? Hey, dwarf?â My voice grew louder and more des
Claire stabbed me. She didnât know I was in here, but would that have made a difference?The moment the blade entered my chest, I felt a rush of cold go through me like smoke through a keyhole. Everything began shaking. I was falling apart.âWhat are yoâ doing?â screamed Flossie.âItâs not him,â said Maurice. âColinâs safe. This is just his body. We have to stop them now, or weâll never get another chance.âIt had never been a great body, but âjust his bodyâ seemed a little harsh.Was this part of some big plan? Maurice had always been good at seeing patterns and drawing conclusions. He wasnât always right, but he was starting to have faith in himself. They all were. Dangerous times.If you joined up the dots and they formed a picture, it would make sense to assume thatâs the picture you were meant to find. Maurice had decided this was the picture he had seen. Kill Peter, kill Wesley. Leave no one powerful enough to threaten the rest of us.
By this point, I considered darkness to be an old friend. Considering how my friends had been treating me of late, my buddy darkness was probably hiding monsters that would eat my face.The voice Iâd heard had sounded feminine, although I wasnât about to assume gender. These days, that sort of thinking can get you in all sorts of trouble. If it was a woman, my track record with females in dark places wasnât good, but I wasnât about to generalise about that either.Yes, women had treated me poorly, often trying to kill me, torture me and nag me to death. I didnât hold a grudge. Women arenât all the same. I never think, Oh, yes, sheâs just like all the others. Theyâre all individuals. They each have their own preferred method for ruining your life. Some of them even do it by ignoring you. Theyâre my favourite.I listened for any follow-up threats. There were always follow-up threats. Everyone had too much fun arranging my demise to not announce their plans.No
It wasnât like Claire suddenly transforming was a bad thing. When the Fire Nation attacks, you want someone to change into their Avatar state. She was more Korra than Aang, but who knew what she was capable of now?I suddenly felt a sense of loss at not having Maurice around to swap pop culture analogies with. Itâs all very well having people standing beside you in times of trouble, but it leaves an unsatisfactory feeling when they donât understand your references.We had a giant Elf with a handful of twats coming at us, so Claire going blue-eyes white dragon was a good thing, even if she had no idea what a blue-eyes white dragon was. Whatever had been behind the wall in the crypt, it had presumably exited via Claire and taken up residence.Normally, that would be a cause for concern. How often has the thing bricked up inside a church been a chill dude who got trapped by accident? No, it was always some abused child whose vengeful spirit was now going to wreak havo
âBut why?â asked Claire, her hands shaking by her side.Maurice had a ferocious grin on his face, the kind only severe embarrassment can produce. Despite any reasons and justifications he might have, when you get caught doing something you know you shouldnât do â because all the Pixar movies youâve ever seen have clearly identified it for you â thereâs no way to stop your body from producing all the âoh fuckâ hormones it contains, and sending them to your face.âYou went inside my mind and took my memories from me.â This was what Claire was really upset about. Not that Maurice had betrayed us and aligned himself with the enemy, but that he had crossed her personal boundaries.âIt wasnât like that,â whispered Maurice. He was keeping his words quiet as though they would hurt less that way, but they filled the silent crypt we were standing in. âI did what I thought was best.ââBest?! You thought lying to me was best?â The surprise of it was wearing off now, and
It might have seemed a bit risky to call out Joshaya. He was the person Iâd been trying to avoid, after all. If him catching up with me unravelled Mauriceâs power, meeting him could kill me. But that was also why it was safe to do so.If this version of Arthur was really Joshaya, then Iâd already been in his presence, even told him I was dead, and was still alive.If I was wrong, it wouldnât change anything, and if I was right, I should already be dead. Unless there was more to this whole being dead business than first appeared.I didnât need to understand exactly how all this mumbo jumbo worked to realise whoever was holding death over my head as a threat, was also making sure I didnât die.Not to blow my own horn (every boyâs dream), but I was important enough to keep alive. They needed me. Which gave me some leverage. Until I became so irritating that they gave up on their plans and killed me anyway.Joshaya rose to a vertical position like some un
We headed out of the temple with two of our members in wheelbarrows. Normally this would require some explaining. People donât just push around unconscious bodies in gardening equipment, unless itâs a stag do thatâs going very well.In this case, however, we were aided by the presence of druids, the local religious weirdos who everyone did their best to ignore.Coupled with the fact we were coming out of the temple everyone believed could do no wrong (never fails to amaze me how ready the faithful are to confuse turn the other cheek with turn a blind eye) and they assumed we must have had a good reason to use this particular form of public transportation.The crowds in the square simply parted for us as they went about their business. My own thoughts were preoccupied with the strong suspicion that Arthur, the one in the crypt, was another manifestation of Joshaya. The roleplaying was of a very high standard, and the cosmetic touches were really well done, but there
âDestroy? You mean as in kill? You want to kill Peter.â The voice, for all its unsettling menace â hard to come across as anything else when youâre emanating from a stone coffin â had a tinge of genuine shock to it. He was horrified by the prospect of what Iâd suggested. âOh, I couldnât do that. Absolutely not.âDisappointing.âYou donât control dead people, then? You arenât a necromancer?ââI told you, Iâm a vivimancer.ââIâm sorry, Iâve never heard of that before. What does it mean?ââIt means I can heal, I can prolong life. Other peopleâs and my own. Itâs the reason Iâm in here. My body was starved of food and air, but my life force abides.ââYou arenât dead?ââI am and I am not.ââAnd Peter put you here, but you still donât want to get him back?ââNot by robbing him of life. I mean, I wouldnât like it if someone did that to me, so why would I do it to someone else?âSomeone had done it to him. I didnât point this
There were four lights in all. Three smaller one, and the big one that seemed to do all the talking. The red balls hanging in the air suggested eyes, but not in a Sauron âI see everythingâ kind of way, more a HAL âHello, Daveâ kind of way. A harmonised version of Daisy, Daisy could break out at any moment.Thereâs a rumour, strongly denied, that HAL, in the movie 2001, was meant to represent the firm IBM. If you take a letter away from each of the letters in I-B-M you get H-A-L.But it was never the hardware that was going to be the problem for the future of mankind. If you made the same kind of movie today, the insane AI watching your every move would be something more like Facebook, but youâd face the same problem. You couldnât use the name without getting sued. Youâd have to take a letter away from each of its initials to make up a completely fictitious evil company. FB would become... Oh, wait.âYou have returned to set us free,â said the big light. There was a
Jenny was not happy. She was the sort of person who prided herself on not being a nag. She presented herself as a supportive partner willing to back me up in whatever retarded idea I came up with. Sheâd tell me it was retarded, but that wouldnât stop her having my back.Which is cool. People should only tell you not to do something if they have a better option. One they know works due to experience and wisdom, not because they think it will help them whore karma on Reddit.Under those conditions, hardly anyone would get to tell anyone else what to do. People would make mistakes, of course, but they would be valuable mistakes that would help the person grow and improve.This time, however, Jenny was not in the mood to stand by and allow me to go skipping off into the jaws of danger. Not without her mooring line firmly attached.âIf he disconnects himself from me,â said Jenny, âwonât he die? I thought I was the only thing keeping him alive.ââYes. Techn