❧ Chapter 9: No Escape ❧

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Unnamed's spirit energy came through every pore, swallowing Merryn's body in a mist of gray vapor. Making fists so tight her nails left dents in her palms.

Testing. 1. 2. 3. Increased strength, check. Reinforced bones, check. Speed boost, check. This is temporary, and overworking me.

It took control of her body, pounding on the glass until the hatch started to crack, and a thin stream of the glop oozed out. When the vapor dissipated, his presence faded down below her consciousness.

She staggered back, then dropped into a sitting position.

Her open palm flashed out, and pain blazed across her cheekbone.

Shouting and footfalls.

Maxwell bit his fist before he let out a muffled scream. "What is she doing?" He took his fist out of his mouth. "Start the repair function, Rush!"

"Yes, master," she squeaked, her barbed tail lashed and curled.

She rubbed her eyes, everything now blurry. Goddess Elaema, if it pleases you, I wish to see...

"You—dust eater. Get—of there now!"

Parcival?

"Dare to—orders, in my home? You—manners. Get out!"

A sizzling sound, then screams.

"Han!"

"I've had—you." A strange whoosh and crackle.

The other arm—a fuzzy length—hung uselessly as she punched the glass until her muscles refused to move, her knuckles sore and bloody.

The glass shattered. She fell out and dropped onto the floor. The blurring spread and turned to night. Wonderful, more pain. They came back for me! Why?

Large hands flipped her over, they helped her sit upright and held her.

She coughed.

"Too tight. Please let go."

"Sorry." He eased her on the floor.

Her ears twitched. "Thank you. Why though?"

"Glad to help." His voice smoothed out to one of seriousness again. "I wanted to."

Han's rumbling tone come from on the left. "Where did crazy go to?"

"i don't know." She hugged herself. "I can't see," her voice scanty, audible.

"That's really..." Han patted her back a bit hard; awkwardly.

Shuffling. A warm hand on her arm. "Only scum would do this to a female..." He took both her hands and pulled her to standing.

"That doesn't matter to him." She wavered and nearly topped over again before finding her balance.

"There's only one exit." The left arm hurt, but didn't seem to be broken. She sissed out a tight breath.

"I can't find him," Han's warbling voice sounded behind.

"Can you walk? Try." Parcival gently helped her move.

"You really should knock before entering someone else home," said Maxwell, his voice maybe five feet away.

Footsteps. A gust blew her hair sideways. She scooted back, her heart trying to make an escape through her throat.

The side effect of my boost spell will lift soon, go to the right.

How am I to trust you?

Just do it! You're in the way! You still can hear, feel, and smell. Calm yourself.

She scooted to the right a few paces.

Good, stay put.

I can't stand this!

Many live like this every day, it's their normal and get along fine. Quit being a frightened bunny and accept it. Or are you still a child needing to be coddled?

She ground her teeth, the thud in her chest loud for other reasons now.

You pompous puff of vapor, as if a Dentree would act in such a way!

I need a strong adult not a blubbering fool, keep that in mind.

You need to be flung into the Abyssphere!

A roaring spell of some kind.

A huff, a sword clanged three–four times along with a slight rumble.

Splash! A smack, and another much louder splash over to the left, the floor shook like thunder; then a heavy thumping.

Fabric wisped, and the air currents breathed from behind, perhaps?

"Impressive," Maxwell said. A rush of wind blew her hair back. She froze in place.

"Parcival?"

A striking of an object, person?

The floor vibration traveled up her feet and legs. She wobbled, catching her balance. Help him? I can't stand here doing nothing!

Hazy shapes flooded in she stumbled toward them, taking small steps. Is that them? She squinted, the images came more into focus, not by much but enough, color still hadn't come back yet a world of gray and black.

One man—both had dark hair—so who exactly, she couldn't tell, held an arm holding a long object, a sword maybe—and pressed the other up high against the wall. The sword—she slipped closer—no, it's a staff, it pulsed, and white tear-shaped wisps woven together by the thinnest of ghostly threads were drawn into the staff. They came from Parcival.

She lightly stepped over. Got to be quiet. Her left arm hung useless and flopped against her waist. Might have broken. It throbbed and shot teeth, shuttering bolts of pain every time it hit her waist. Deal with it later, ignore it. Thinking became hard.

"I will rip your soul out of your body and trap it here," he said.

I can't let him die! A shiver ran over her scalp and down the nape of her neck. "Don't"

More of the haze left and her vision focused to clarity. Blessed Elaema, I thank you for bringing my sight back.

Parcival's eyes widened, and he shook his head. Gasping for breath, Parcival's face became increasingly pale with each passing second.

Han hissed as he rushed at Maxwell, slashing him with his saber.

"Let him go you sick, twisted leach you're killing him!" said Han.

Not again! How many have to die because of me? "No, you won't, there's no point in doing that." She reached for Maxwell and then held out the remaining good hand. "Let them go, I'll stay."

A smile fished up the edges of his lips. "I can be reasonable, if you do as I say. Watch." He released Parcival and waved his hand, the whisps vanished, as did Parcival and Han. His cheeks hollowed and sank into his mouth, and dark circles spread under his eyes, and his skin lost its glow.

That was an instant teleportation—I think that's what it was— it has a steep cost.

"Where?"

"They're outside the building, free to go."

Merryn followed as he went to another room further into the mansion. Thankfully he let go, for a second there it looked like he wouldn't. Han was right, Maxwell he is twisted, it was hard to know just what he'd do next. She rubbed her sore arm and sat in a chair near a fireplace. Pew, what is that? She wrinkled her nose. "Blaah, a terribly strong odor."

"Nice try. Shut up and listen," he said. "I'm being kinder than you know. The others, how much do you trust them?" He went to several candles upon the fireplace and lit them, then sat on the ordinate chair. He eyed her for a bit, then he looked away and back again.

"Far more than you." She rapidly blinked while inhaling. He's so at odds with how he was before, I don't even know him anymore. Did he really send Parcival and Han away? I should stab him, the right arm still works fine.

As if on cue, a hot burning spike raced up and down her left arm, to her shoulder and back again. She moaned, cradling it and clenched her teeth.

Frowning, he touched the staff, then pulled out a long while cloth. It floated over, twisting, folding, and knotting into a sling.

"Better?"

"Some." The arm settled into an angry pulse. It must have some pain reduction spelled into it. Fine, no stabbing.

"I'll summon a healer for that later."

"Good, considering you caused this."

He grunted. An emotion flickered past, the usual demented aura smoothed, then the wall went up again. A wolfish point brought up the corners of his eyes.

"What's with you?" Shifting in the chair, she crossed her legs. A trick it must be, he's trying to get the upper hand! That's why he's acting so well, sane.

She frowned. "I'm to sit and listen to some blather about why you did all this? How can I even know you freed them?"

"Of course I did. Never doubt me."

A snort escaped without her meaning to. "Doubt you? Everything you say and do—"

He raised his hand, as if to strike, and slowly clenched into a fist. Then dropped his hand and turned his face away. "Stop making me angry. Be quiet!"

He faced her again. "Everything you've been told is a lie." He slowly pushed his palm near her face, while holding eye contact.

She nodded, unflinching. Maxwell treated women much the same as men, except he'd slap instead of punch. Not that his behavior is acceptable, but I can understand his warped way of thinking. That didn't make it right, but if I can keep my cool, he'll stay calmer.

If he sent them away, the longer I stay here, the further away they can get. I can't do anything else now, anyway. She shook her head. "You just said you wanted me to die, why bother telling me all this?"

"You and your people have been lied to. Unnamed is not what you think he is. He wasn't always like he is now."

"That's a bunch of—"

His eyes narrowed. "Silence. Quit interrupting. My temper may have gotten the better of me."

Her brows crinkled, and she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Fine." Blinking, she had to concentrate on what he was saying. Her eyelids kept trying to slam shut. Not now, wake up! She turned her head with random movements, it helped her stay awake.

Before he could reply, a shouting from below, and screams. "The fates seem intent on interrupting me today." He rubbed his forehead.

She jerked her head toward the screams. Come on think! Uggh. There it is again. She drew in short breaths. Something started bashing down below the empty chairs near wobbled. She gasped.

On getting up, he pushed her back down. He called the gods a few long names and a few shorter ones for good measure. His face red and flushed and his stance like he wanted to kick something. "Stay here for a moment. Always interruptions." He left the room, slamming the door as he went down the stairwell behind her.

Her ears burned from the onslaught of curses. "So much Blasphemy, I apologize dear Elaema. They not know your kindness."

Maxwell shouted below: "—down here now. Hurry it up.

"Oh, lovely." Getting up was a chore she stumbled into the chair before regaining her footing. Stay here, he says. She snorted. Through it, all the god hardly woke. Suppressing it wasn't easy and was taking a toll, the lack of sleep didn't help. She followed him with less than quiet steps, then stomped down the blasted steps two at a time.

The walls were rough with exposed brick dotted with pegs and chains that dangled from them. Part of the stairwell shook, and fissures crumbled under her feet as she hopped to the side hanging sideways on the banister.

What kind of lousy craftworker made this? She blew out her cheeks. A cloud of dust blasted from below filled with grit coating her face, she blinked it away.

Flickers of light shone through, exposing a nasty shadow of a large creature or object. More of the dust settled and showed it was busy in a corner, snapping at something. On the left a broken doorway, light crammed through the large cracks.

Han was near the creature pressed against the wall.

Stopping a minute later on the landing, a grotesque dusk-rat parted through the dust, standing on its hind legs. And gods, its skin was the worst all hairless and wrinkly like rotted meat it was an effort not to become ill. A vat further back had cracked and spilled out, the puddle hadn't reached out more than a few feet.

The dust settled after a moment. The rat's tail was wrapped around Maxwell's midsection, venom dripped off the curved tip splashing on the stone, that started to smoke.

It lifted him near its face. The green glop dribbled off the rat, splattering to the floor.

She edged further down. An image of the cracked glass with the glop escaping out flashed to mind. Poor scorpo-rat.

"Stupid lump!" His staff zipped down from upstairs and hovered near him. He whispered an incantation, and it glowed a faint blue as the water swirled around the claw. Bursts of water rammed the creature's muzzle. It screamed in pain as its eyes swelled and reddened but didn't drop him.

Maxwell craned his head toward her while pushing the rat's face away. "You did this? Of course, you would. How the hell can someone cause so much trouble?"

She shrugged. "It's a talent, I guess." Oh, how Quain would've laughed at me about at all this, with his twisted sense of humor.

Claws clicked on the stone tiles, coming closer and sniffing while it elongated its neck toward him, a strand of putrid saliva dribbled from its maw on his cheek. No difference in this rat, none. Except with its slimy fangs, and stop thinking about it! She forced her feet to move, stepping slowly toward it. Glancing to the side, Han gestured to further back where Parcival was.

Now! She ran from side to side and bent down, sliding under the rat's segmented bent tail to Han and drew in several breaths.

He glowered something awful almost to the point of exaggeration. "There's a sizable reason we stayed."

After a moment, she smiled a little. "You're nuts, you don't even know me."

Han's whiskers twitched. "Eh, I owe you." He eyed the sling. "When did—"

"Not important." Hope he's willing to fix this later it's making me feel a little loopy.

Han sucked air through his fangs. "Don't put it off long."

"Won't matter if it eats us..."

His fur puffed up and down. "Don't say that."

Parcival laid in a crumpled heap plastered against the wall, just behind the rat near the pilled mess of cages. I won't let this man die because Maxwell can't control himself.

Maxwell screamed as the rat bit into his shoulder, blood sprayed out into a fine mist. His hands shook as he reached into his robe, tossing a shining blade her way.

"What the hell, when did you?" She glared at him.

"Never... mind... that..." Maxwell said.

She reached out to catch it, and her left forearm hit jared against her chest. She hissed through clenched teeth, and instant tears wet her lids.

Frozen inplace,e the waves of shocks and hell took its time to subside. The blade chattered at her feet, bumping into them.

Bending over, she it took it and ran.

She sliced at the beast's leg; and the dagger sank in deep. "I'm not helping you. I'm just getting my dagger back."

Maxwell's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. "You'll never find out more if you...." His staff dulled then clattered to the floor, and he passed out, his limp body still trapped by the tail. The blood dripped faster now. This wasn't funny, not one bit. Should just let him die. She ground her teeth and pushed the dagger in further, twisting it.

The rat screeched, dropped Max, and snapped in her face.

Jumping back, she sliced the air near it, and it backed away. "You, you're such a..." I can't lose my temper, have to think, be of ice.

Han all this time had crept back behind the rat near the ceiling. Pulling himself paw over paw on the wooden pegs that hung unused lamps and chains. He strained to reach for a long one near the ceiling. He jumped, pulling it off.

"Catch!"

She held a hand out. "Toss it."

He heaved it over.

She missed it, and it clattered in a pile near the rat. The rat swiped at it with its paw and slid it under its body.

Crud.

It sat on its haunches as if it was waiting.

As she ran then slid under the rat. Han hopped down, running over to Parcival. She stuck out her good arm, pulling Maxwell out of the wayand dragged his ungodly body closer to the stairway. The rat squeaked an all too human sound of surprise, spun around, and whipped its tail in her face.

Han scooted over and Parcival walked behind him with carefully measured steps. He didn't seem as bad off as before. Han hasn't run away yet, this isn't his problem, there must be a reason why he's stayed to help Parcival.

Han helped him stand.

Parcival hoped on one foot, the other stuck in a crack in the wall. He yanked it and toppled over on his butt, hard. His eyes widened so much so he looked like a lost puppy.

Her long ears twitched. She repressed a smile. I didn't know a human man could be so cherubical; how different from the aloof and gruff men back home. She shook her head. I've gone mad thinking such things, what with two blood thirsty rats nearby!

"What next?"

The rat crept back over, whipping its tail about, spraying dirt where it struck.

Maxwell groaned, then sat upright, his staff hummed glowing again as it floated to his side. He shouted out a quick spell in the old tongue. The words became visible surrounded by a flaming rune, this zeroed in on the rat settled on its face, and set it aflame. Its screams were horrible. It thrashed about, slamming into pillars causing chunks of the wall to fall. It wheezed and fell near the exit; still.

All the adrenaline left, it was hard to stand. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. Please, not now body, not yet. Sliding along the wall, she sat near and propped her head back and eyed him.

He squeezed his eyes shut, his arm limp at his side, blood dripping on the floor. "We'll finish our chat later. Elaema loves you a little much, it'll come back to bite you." At the top of the steps, his staff floated dow, andd it continued where it stopped at his side. Taking it he pulled up and stood.

Then vanished.

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