Critical Failures III (Caverns and Creatures Book 3) (22 page)

Chapter 28

Stuart led Stacy away from the crowded streets of this city which she’d come to learn was called Cardinia. That was just fine with Stacy. The fewer and farther apart these freaks were from her, the better.

Once they were on the less crowded side streets, and Stacy grew more confident with every alley they passed that some giant purple tentacle monster wasn’t going to emerge from it and grab her, her heart rate began to slow.

“Where are we going?” asked Stacy. She didn’t imagine that any answer he gave would make any sense to her, but idle chatter might get her mind off of tentacle monsters.

“The Whore’s Head Inn,” said Stuart.

“Charming.”

“It should be when we’re finished.”

“Finished?” said Stacy. “You mean you’re building it?”

“
Re
building it,” said Stuart. “Those four guys you just escaped from, they burnt it down a couple of weeks ago.”

“Oh my God!” said Stacy. “Was anybody hurt?”

“Two of ours died.”

Stacy gasped. “I’m so sorry.”

Stuart shrugged. “It’s not as bad as all that. We got them resurrected.”

“Well that’s convenient.”

“Not really,” said Stuart. “Not when you consider what we had to spend to get it done. We could have built the Whore’s Head back three times the size of the original with that kind of money, or started sending people back home.”

“Well if you got all that money once, why can’t you do it again?”

“It wasn’t as easy to come by as you might think. We had to fight a vampire. We were lucky to escape with our lives.”

Stacy grimaced. “Vampires suck.”

“Ha!” said Stuart. “Wait until you meet a real one.”

“I have,” said Stacy. “She sucks.”

“I thought you said you only just got here,” said Stuart. “Where did you meet a vampire?”

“It wasn’t here,” said Stacy. “It was back home, just before I came here.”

“I’m not talking about the goth kids who hang out at Hot Topic,” said Stuart. “I’m talking about real vampires. The kind that suck blood and turn into bats.”

“
Yeah
,” said Stacy, not appreciating the condescension in his voice. “Me too. Her name is Katherine, and she’s a big bitch.”

Stuart stopped walking and looked at Stacy. “The girl we went in to rescue was named Katherine. She’s Tim’s sister.”

“You know Tim?” said Stacy. She cupped her hand around the side of her mouth. “Just between you and me, I’ve got a little crush on him.”

“I can’t believe it!”

“I know,” said Stacy. “It’s weird, right? What with him being so hot-tempered and short. But sometimes the combination is just adorable.”

“No, I mean I can’t believe their plan for getting back home worked. Did you meet the others as well?”

“Well let’s see,” said Stacy. She started counting on her fingers. “I met Tim, and Julian, and Cooper.”

Stuart shook his head with what looked like a reluctant smile. “
Cooper
.”

“I know, right? He’s a trip. Now where was I… Oh yeah… And I met… What was the dwarf’s name? I can never remember.”

“Dave?”

“That’s right. And then there’s that clown guy who plays the guitar, and –”

“Clown guy?” said Stuart. His eyes suddenly widened. “Wait, back up a bit. Did you say Dave’s still a dwarf?”

“Yeah.”

“And when you said Tim was short, you didn’t mean simply below average height. You meant…” He held his hand down about three feet above the ground.

“That’s right.”

“And Katherine’s still a
vampire
?”

“And still a bitch, yes.”

“Holy crap!” said Stuart. “So that means Cooper’s still
Cooper
?”

“If you mean a hulking, pig-faced abomination with a knack for making dirty jokes, then yes.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“Aw he’s a big sweetheart if you look under all that filth.”

“I need to get you to Frank, like, right now. Come on. We’re nearly there.”

The Whore’s Head Inn, though still under construction, was the nicest establishment in this otherwise seedy part of town. While the surrounding buildings seemed to be made out of cannibalized scraps from former buildings, wagons, and hammer-flattened pieces of armor held together with ropes, the reconstruction of the Whore’s Head Inn appeared much more organized, and was being done with freshly cut timber.

Some sections of the building were closer to completion than others, with walls standing on their own. These were covered with temporary canvas roofs. Under one such roof, a tiny, bearded man, like a young Professor Goosewaddle in brown, dusty overalls, oversaw the construction.

“You two!” the bearded man shouted at two dwarves. They were arguing about the placement of a crossbeam on a piece of free-standing wall while standing directly in the path of two elves on horseback carrying a load of lumber between their horses. “Get that partition out of the way!”

“Come on, guys,” said one of the elves. “The duration on these Mount spells is about to –” His horse disappeared from underneath him, landing him on the ground and spilling all of the wood on top of him. The other elf hopped off of his horse just before it, too, vanished into thin air.

“Jesus Christ,” said the little bearded man. He pointed to the wood-buried elf and shouted at the two dwarves. “Go help him.”

“Frank!” Stuart called out.

The little bearded man looked over from his platform. “Stu! Did you find the putty?”

“No,” said Stuart. “But I found something better.” He opened his arms, presenting Stacy like she was the prize behind door number three.

Frank looked at him doubtfully. “Is she a carpenter?”

“No,” said Stuart, lowering his arms. “She’s one of
us
. She’s only just arrived.”

Frank frowned and scratched under his beard. “So Mordred’s already back at it.” He shrugged. “Well, miss, if you want a place to sleep tonight, you’d best grab a hammer and start building one.”

“She’s got some things to say to you…
in private
.”

The two dwarves stopped and looked at Stacy.

“Quit your gawking!” said Frank. “I want the southwest corner finished today so we can start working on a real roof.” He climbed down a rope ladder like a crippled spider monkey. Once on the ground, he looked much less ridiculous. “Come on downstairs.”

“Just so you know,” said Stuart. “She has reason to believe that the Horsemen might come looking for her here.”

“They won’t attack us again, not while Mordred’s holding their leashes. But just in case, get some archers to spread out on the walls, and some rogues to hide behind partitions. If they show up and try anything, orders are to hit the wizard first with everything we’ve got.” He looked up at the elf who was standing behind a badly charred, but still functional, bar. “Tony the Elf. A beer for me, if you please.” He turned to face Stacy. “And for our newest member…?”

“Stacy,” said Stacy. “And yes, please.”

Frank accepted the two beers and handed one to Stacy. “Normally I’d serve this to you cold, but if you’re being followed by the Horsemen, we can’t afford to waste even a zero level spell.”

“This is fine,” said Stacy. “Thank you.”

Tony the Elf opened a false pantry that led to a staircase leading underground. Stacy followed Frank down the stairs. The dimly lit room at the bottom smelled like B.O. Stacy coughed.

“Oh yeah,” said Frank. “Sorry about that. I don’t even notice it anymore. Most everyone sleeps down here since the place got burned down. The stink is part of the reason we’re in such a hurry to rebuild.”

“It’s okay,” Stacy lied. She gulped down a swig of beer, hoping there was enough in the glass to last through their conversation.

Frank sat on a crate next to a larger crate, and invited Stacy to pull up a crate of her own, which she did.

“So what’s this urgent news you’ve got to tell me?” asked Frank.

“I’m not sure where to start,” said Stacy, wishing Frank hadn’t sent Stuart away. Was Frank more interested in the Horsemen, or the fact that she knew Tim and the guys, or –

Frank cocked an eyebrow, looking just past her. “Why don’t you start with where you got that fancy sword on your back?”

Stacy unsheathed the sword and placed it on the large crate between them. As gently as she set it down, the charcoal gray steel blade still managed to shave a few curls of wood off the crate. “I stole it from the Horsemen.”

Frank’s eyes went wide. “Sweet mother of Jesus. Is that what I think it is?”

“What do you think it is?”

“I’ve never actually seen one,” said Frank. “Is this a vorpal sword?”

“I think that’s what Stuart called it,” said Stacy. “Something that started with a V.”

“Well no wonder they’re after you,” said Frank.

“I don’t think so,” said Stacy. “They probably didn’t even notice it’s gone. They’ve got a barrel full of them.”

Frank swallowed hard. “They’ve got a
what
?”

Stacy decided it would be best to come clean about the other weapon she stole. If Frank could put it in the hands of someone who could keep her safe from those Horsemen, then it would be a lot more useful than it was just sitting in her weird, magical bag.

“That’s not all I stole,” said Stacy. She plopped the bag down next to the top side of the sword, so as not to accidentally slice it open.

“If that bag’s full of diamonds, we might be able to buy all our tickets back home.”

“Sorry,” said Stacy. She put her hand in the bag. “Um… weapon thing?” When she felt the cool, steel handle in her grasp, she pulled out the weapon thing.

“And a Bag of Holding to boot,” said Frank. “Now what’s that you’ve got there? A mace?”

“Among other things,” said Stacy. She pushed the first button on the handle, causing the flaming sword to spring out.

“Well that
is
impressive,” said Frank.

There was more than one button on the shaft. Stacy hadn’t given Scott a chance to demonstrate all of this thing’s options. She pushed the second and third buttons and discovered that the weapon had axe and spear functions as well. The fourth button made the weapon transform into a ladder which extended to both ends of the room, where it was wedged into place until Stacy pushed the fifth button, which retracted it. When she pressed the sixth button, the weapon jerked her arm toward a random section of wall.
What the hell?

“North,” said Frank. “That last button must be a compass.”

“That’s kind of anticlimactic after the flame sword.”

“So that’s what they’re after,” said Frank. “That presents quite a dilemma. Do we keep it to defend ourselves with? Do we see how much it’s worth, and try to buy a few of us safe passage home? Or do we give it back and hope they don’t kill us all?”

“Keep it,” said Stacy. Her answer was abrupt and firm.

“You seem very sure of yourself.”

“They’re not after the weapon,” said Stacy. “I mean, that War guy was really excited about having it, but they’ve got more weapons than they know what to do with. They’re after me.”

“What do they want with you?” asked Frank.

Stacy shivered. “I don’t even want to think about that. But they’re acting under Mordred’s orders. I went out on a date with Mordred, and he’s sort of… I don’t know… claimed me as his queen or something.”

“You went out on a date with Mordred?” asked Frank. “Do you have some crippling self-esteem issues?”

“No,” said Stacy. “And that leads me to why your
buying tickets home
option isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

Frank raised his eyebrows, inviting her to elaborate.

“I’m assuming you know Tim and Julian and Dave and Cooper,” said Stacy.

“
You
know them?”

“Yeah. I kinda just left them.”

“Well hot damn!” said Frank. “How are they getting along back in the real world?”

“Not so good,” said Stacy. “They teleported over there okay, but they didn’t change back into humans. They’re still… Julian’s still an elf. Tim’s still a midget. Dave’s still a stockier midget. And Cooper’s still…”

“Cooper?” said Frank.

“Yeah.”

“Well shit. One of our guys guessed that might happen. It makes sense. A teleportation spell does nothing to change who you are. It just moves you as you are. We still held out hope though. It’s all we had.” He slammed a fist down on the big crate. “And now we don’t even have that anymore.”

“You might,” said Stacy. “Tim and the guys are going after Mordred right now. Once they get their hands on the magic dice… Well, who knows?”

Frank drummed his fingers on the crate. “If they succeed, it should only be a matter of minutes or hours.” He stood up and started toward the stairs. “We’ve got to get everybody out of here. If we can all split up and stay on the run for a while, we might be able to survive this without it coming to a –”