Mirrorworld (29 page)

“Can you speak?” Kendra asked, leaning in close.

“Urgh,” the man said.

“Did you see what it was?” Boss demanded. Kendra glared at him, but he ignored her.

“Teeth.. claws,” the man groaned, and closed his eyes.

“Damn it!” Boss growled, “how are we meant to figure out what we’re fighting if nothing that sees it can stay conscious?!”

“I wouldn’t worry about that, Boss,” said a new voice. “I’m sure we’re all familiar with the legends of the Jabberwocks.”

Marcus looked up; a new group of tricksters had arrived from the opposite direction, all similarly armed to the teeth. A few of them were splattered in blood, and at least one looked unnervingly pale, but at their head, the Assassin, who had spoken, stood looking fresh as a daisy. The man caught Marcus’s eye and nodded slightly, before raising an eyebrow at Kendra as she sat back from the corpse and waved at him as if they’d just passed on the street – which, Marcus supposed, they had.

“Jabberwocks, Estintore?” Boss asked. “You think we’re facing a mythical creature?”

“Obviously less mythical than you would like to believe,” the Assassin said. “And yes, I know we’re facing one, because I’ve met one before – before this one encountered us coming from the other direction as it fled from you. Let me tell you, Boss, once you’ve seen a Jabberwock up close, you don’t forget what they look like. My fee for this job has just tripled, by the way.”

Boss paled, although it was hard to tell if it was because of the revelation, or the knowledge that he was going to be out of pocket very soon. “You say it ran into you?”

“Yes, literally. We were hardly expecting it, although in hindsight since we were running towards the sounds of screaming we should probably have been better prepared.. either way, it rather got the better of us, but I’d say we managed to put a few more wounds into it. It certainly didn’t leave nearly as quickly as it arrived, and there’s now a handy trail of blood we can follow to catch the bugger. Fancy it?”

“I’m in!” Kendra said, from where she was still kneeling next to the dead trickster. She had found the man’s hat from somewhere and was wiping the blood off it.

“Of course,” Boss said grimly. “We have to stop it killing any more innocents.”

“In this town?” The Assassin grinned. “Sure thing. Hey Marcus, you coming?”

“Okay,” Marcus said, “but I’m standing at the back.”

Stalking the Jabberwock was quite easy; in its wounded rage it had left a small trail of devastation and blood that led out of the shadow of the buildings and into the natural shade of a sizeable park. Some of the tricksters were carrying lanterns, which helped keep them on the trail yet did nothing for the darkness but make it seem heavier as it fell upon them.

True to his word, Marcus was at the back, again walking with Kendra. He had kept his silence as they’d walked, and she’d continued to brush bits of trickster off the hat she had acquired from the recently deceased, but as they moved into the darkness and everyone else became quiet, he cracked and asked the question that had been nagging at him.

“What’s a Jabberwock?”

“Hm? Oh,” Kendra said, “well, I only know what I’ve read. They have a chapter in
Bestiary of the Elder Races
. They’re old, of course, more suited for a time before civilisation, when life was all tooth and claw. A lot of the Elder Races have gone now, or at least faded from our memory, but I guess not these guys! They’re all screeches and slashing, living far to the north, cohabiting in tribes even though they can barely tolerate each other, ripping each other apart instead of saying ‘good morning’. You know, usual stuff.”

“Brilliant,” Marcus said flatly. “So what’s one doing in a town full of gangsters?”

“No idea,” Kendra responded happily, “that’s what we should try to find out! I mean, it would be awesome just to
see
a Jabberwock, but if it’s come from the direction where we’re going..”

“You’re going to try to talk to it?!”

“Yep. And hopefully stop these macho dudes from killing it.”

“You are insane. Do you know that?”

“I’ve heard that,” Kendra said cheerfully.

“Wait,” called the Assassin from up ahead, and the column juddered to a halt. Kendra grabbed Marcus and dragged him up to the front of the group in order to find out what was happening. In response, the Assassin pointed ahead of him to a grove of trees, illuminated in the flickering lamplight. Then he pointed to the ground, where the shimmering trail of blood led right into the trees. Then he cupped his ear to the wind, so as to hear the faint shrieks that were coming from the copse.

“Yes, we get the point,” Boss rumbled. “Go on in, Estintore. We’ll create a perimeter.”

The Assassin raised an eyebrow, a twist of expression for which he had a particular talent. Boss just folded his arms and matched him with a completely blank expression. The Assassin chuckled, bowed mockingly, and somehow managed to draw his huge sword from his back sheath without breaking any bones before starting forwards.

“Come on,” Kendra said urgently, tugging Marcus alongside her after the man. As he stumbled along, Marcus idly considered whacking her over the head with his staff and making a run for it, but dismissed the thought as soon as he caught himself thinking it. The Assassin did his eyebrow thing again when they caught up to him.

“I’m not going to just let you kill it,
Assassino,”
Kendra said. “It’s a wild creature out of its comfort zone, not just a monster to be put down. Also, it might be of some help to us. Y’know, the mission and stuff. So yeah, put the sword down.” As if for emphasis, she flipped her newly acquired hat onto her head, whereupon the top half of her face promptly disappeared from view. “It fits!”

The Assassin shook his head and grinned, but didn’t reply. Kendra folded her arms and glared at him from under her hat’s rim as they stalked through the trees, weapons raised, in the direction of the woeful screeching that was now the only sound in the night. The moon came out overhead as they walked, lighting their way.

After a minute or so, the tree line gave way to a small clearing at the centre of the copse. The Assassin was the first to slip out into the open, eyes never shifting from the heaving shape that had collapsed against the far tree line. Against his better judgement, Marcus followed the man into the open, and was rewarded with his first proper sight of the Jabberwock.

It was huge; even in its reduced posture it was at least eight feet tall. Somewhere in-between humanoid and dinosaur, its long limbs seemed to fold up on themselves many more times that could be comfortable, and ended in deadly looking claws that were far lengthier than the one the tricksters had found earlier – with a start, Marcus realised, as the creature opened its mouth to wail again, that what they had taken to be a claw was actually one of the creature’s teeth. As if that were not enough, its long, whip-like tail was layered with spikes, and its eyes shone yellow in the half light, snake-like beacons of golden light that were the deadly cherry atop a harsh, piercing gaze. ‘Harsh’ and ‘piercing’ were, in fact, remarkably apt words for describing the Jabberwock. All in all, it was the most fantastic, terrifying thing Marcus had ever seen, and he was glad that it was curled up and dying at least five metres away rather than bearing down on him in the street.

“Hm,” said the Assassin, who appeared completely unfazed, “I guess we hurt it more than I thought.” He stabbed his sword into the ground and leant on it. “Well, lady, do your thing if you must. I doubt it’s going to hurt anyone. But if it makes a move, I’ll be swinging this blade, so don’t forget to duck.”

“Are you enjoying this?” Marcus asked the Assassin, as Kendra slowly advanced on the dying creature, eyes wide with excitement.

“Of course I am,” the man said, “this is what I do. Is that girl insane?”

“Quite possibly.”

“Hello,” Kendra said, crouching down next to the Jabberwock’s head. It turned its eyes on her and growled faintly, but made no further movement.

“Can you hear me?” she asked.

“..ssss.”

“..Was that a yes?”

“..ssss.”

“Was
that
a yes?”

“yysss,” if it was possibly to growl testily, then that was what the Jabberwock did.

“What are you doing here?”

“..ussss.”

“This is ridiculous,” the Assassin said.

“Sssh,” Marcus said. The Assassin rolled his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” Kendra asked again.

“..eethusss.”

“What are you saying?” she asked desperately.

“Keeethusss,” the Jabberwock growled. It reached out with a claw and began to gouge something into the grass. The Assassin had pulled his sword free and was ready to swing it before Marcus could even blink, but seeing that it wasn’t going for Kendra, he relaxed.

“Keithus?” Kendra asked. “Is that what you said?” She glanced down at what it had scribbled into the grass. “What is this? You’re drawing yourself?”

“ssss.”

“Was that a yes?”

“..goodness sakessss,” the Jabberwock said, and died.

“Well, that
was
profitable,” the Assassin sighed. “Can I drag that corpse back to Boss now?”

Kendra stayed sat where she was, staring at the Jabberwock for a few seconds. Then she reached out and gently closed its eyes, before standing, looking so troubled that Marcus felt moved to reach out and catch her hand. He instantly regretted it when his fingers closed around hers and were covered in blood, but he kept the hold.

“That was sad,” she whispered. “It wasn’t its fault..”

“What was it talking about?” Marcus asked. As he spoke, a chill wind rose up from nowhere, and he was suddenly reminded that standing near something that had recently died was not a good place for him to be. “Actually, tell me later. Come on, we have to go.” And for the first time, he was the one dragging Kendra away urgently, disappearing into the night, as he imagined he heard the footsteps of the Reaper coming to claim his own.

Marcus had barely left when Death materialised in the air above the clearing, staggering slightly without his scythe to steady himself. The skeletal figure frowned, insofar as he was capable of doing so, as he observed the Assassin, who had remained behind, casually chipping out the Jabberwock’s teeth. Floating above him, and still connected to its previous home, the soul of the Jabberwock was also observing this, and looking distinctly unimpressed.

“Ss,” it hissed. “Sstealing my teeths, to make weapon no doubt. I sseethes.”

“Quite,” Death agreed. “You’re rather far out of your way, Xdghyju. What brings you here?”

“I was sselected,” the creature responded, grinning sickly.

“What for?” Death, asked, curious. He liked to think he was capable of striking up a rapport with any of his customers.

“Ssecrets,” the creature said. “I tell nice lady, not you, too thin.”

“Very well,” Death said, losing interest as he noticed a certain something about the air. “I don’t suppose you might have seen someone with a scythe whilst you were out in this town busying up my schedule?”

“Ss,” the Jabberwock affirmed. “With that bastard.” It ineffectually attempted to gut the Assassin, who, apparently satisfied with his loot, had now grabbed a hold of the Jabberwock’s tail and was dragging it out of the clearing.

“Interesting,” Death said. “I shall have to clear a space in my diary.” He turned to stare towards the lights of the town. “Keep running, Marcus. I’ll catch you yet.”

“Ss,” the Jabberwock said. “What about me?”

“Oh yes,” Death said, “terribly sorry.” He swung his sword inexpertly in the creature’s direction, cutting the ethereal cord that connected the spirit to its earthly form. “Better luck next time, chap.”

“Don’t needs luck,” the creature hissed as it faded, “Am already honoured, by Keithus. Am instrument of glorious victory. Make you busy boy, much more than already, yess.”

And it was gone. Death shrugged, sheathed his sword, and vanished towards his next destination, leaving the forest copse empty once more in the night.

“A Jabberwock? Really?”

Marcus lay on his back, staring up at the clouds as they rolled gently by. He’d decided that today was going to be a day of relaxation and rest, partly because of the adventure of the previous night and partly because of the lack of sleep he’d had after they’d finally made it back to the motel, running as if Death himself were on their tail. In the scant time that he’d been away, the various beasties he had exorcised from his mattress had burrowed their way back in, and had been less than pleased when he’d returned and expected to, of all things, sleep on them. In the end he’d taken the duvet outside and failed to sleep on the porch instead.

Another good reason to relax was that he now no longer had any use for his legs. That morning, he’d woken up from a fitful half-hour snatching of sleep to discover that a terrible, gargantuan object was now looming above him; luckily, it had turned out to not be a Jabberwock, but rather the huge converted stagecoach that was to be their transportation for the rest of the journey. Right now, he was lying on the roof amongst what luggage they hadn’t managed to fit into the coach itself, which had been converted from simple seating into a makeshift bed, where Fervesce was doing his thing, a small seating area, where Lucin was counting his winnings from whatever games he’d found for himself the previous evening with luminous dollar signs in his eyes, and general storage, where nothing much was happening. Nonetheless, their group was now fully supplied with bedrolls, food, and the four huffing and puffing horses whose collective effort was required to convince the coach to move. The Assassin was currently in charge of the steering, whilst Musk sat with Kendra near the front of the roof, making increasingly incredulous exclamations as she regaled to him the tale of the previous eve’s adventure.

“You
spoke
to it?!”

“Yes. That’s a very accurate summary of what happened. I spoke to it, and it didn’t say much.”

“What
did
it say, then?”

“It said, ‘Keithus’.”