Critical Failures II (Caverns and Creatures Book 2) (17 page)

Chapter 18

Even from a distance, the temple of Rapha stood out against the night like a reflection of the moon. Flaming brass braziers illuminated gleaming white marble pillars, and it made Cooper’s head hurt.

As if the discomfort of walking around with a giant wooden cock up his ass wasn’t enough, Cooper was suffering from the worst hangover he’d ever had. That stonepiss didn’t fuck around. He desperately needed to rehydrate, and was even prepared to suck up a puddle off the street if they happened by one. No such luck.

“May the light of Rapha shine on you,” said a man in white robes as the party approached the front steps. “What does such a varied group of travelers seek at such an early hour?”

The temple had few walls and no doors. It must be a twenty-four hour establishment.

“We seek healing,” said Julian.

“Who among you is afflicted?” asked the man at the top of the stairs.

“My sister,” said Tim.

The man scanned the group one more time. “I take it she is not here among you.”

“No,” said Tim. “This will have to be a house call.”

“And what, may I ask, is her affliction?”

“She’s dead.”

The man frowned. “Death comes to us all, child. There is naught but –”

“Cut the bullshit,” said Tim. “I’m not a child.”

“We are all Rapha’s children.”

“I don’t have time for this. Can you bring my sister back to life or not?”

“Alas,” said the man. “I cannot. I am not so strong in the faith such that Rapha has seen fit to grant me such power over death. There is but one of our number whom Rapha has given such power. Brother Tristan, and he is currently away.”

“When will he be back?” asked Stuart.

“It is not for me to say. But perhaps I can spare you further grief by telling you honestly that such a favor from the temple is not handed out to just anyone. I humbly beg forgiveness for the observation, but you appear to be men of humble means, and the favor you seek would require rather a sizeable donation to the temple.”

“We can get money,” said Tim.

“That’s right!” said Julian. “We’re actually on our way to go take out the vampire who killed his sister. He’s probably loaded. In fact, if a couple of you guys wanted to help out –”

The priest smiled sadly. “We are not assassins for hire.”

“But –”

The priest stopped Julian with a finger. “I would encourage you not to seek revenge. You will most likely die. And even should you succeed, it will not bring this young man’s sister back. It will only further darken your hearts.”

“This is bullshit,” said Cooper. His heart was pounding in his head, and the last thing he needed was a fucking sermon.

A grimace flickered over the priest’s face at Cooper, but it soon turned back to stoic kindness. “However,” he said. “If you are certain you want to continue down this road, allow me to bless you in the holy font of Rapha. Follow, but remain quiet.” He turned and walked up the stairs.

Tim whispered to Dave. “What do you think?”

“About what?” asked Dave.

“Is it worth our time getting blessed, or should we just bail?”

“Whether it’s worth it or not,” said Julian, “we should take him up on his hospitality. It would be rude not to, and we might need these guys later.”

“Your call, Tim,” said Cooper.

“Fine,” said Tim. “Let’s hurry it up though.”

Tim, Julian, Cooper, Dave, Butterbean, and Stuart scampered up the marble stairs with Ravenus flying overhead.

The inside of the temple was beautiful. Firelight danced on the polished marble pillars and shone on the reflective floor. At the center of it all stood a twenty foot tall stone statue of what Cooper assumed to be Rapha. The figure was armored and armed with a great hammer, but his weapon was tucked away and his face showed compassion as he laid his hand on the head of some disheveled beggar. At the base of the statue – at Rapha’s feet and the beggar’s knees – stone cherubs held pitchers which poured continuous streams of water into a stone pool.
Water!

Cooper pushed Dave and Stuart to either side of him and ran toward the fountain.

“What is he…” he barely heard the priest say before he was able to stick his head in. It was cool and refreshing. He took in gulp after gulp, and his headache immediately started to evaporate. The coolness coursed down his parched throat, into his queasy stomach, and filled his whole being with vigor. He could feel the pointy end of the stake poking out of his ass, and hoped that it wasn’t making a conspicuous lump in the back of his loincloth. He was ugly enough without people thinking he had a tail. He drank until he couldn’t breathe. Then he lifted his head out of the water and took in a lungful of air.

Someone might have been yelling at him, but he wasn’t going to stay and find out. It was time for round two, so back under he went. Swallow after swallow, he gulped down the sweet sweet hydration until he had had his fill.

When Cooper’s thirst was sated, he removed his head from the fountain again.

“You barbarous brute!” The priest was doing all he could to keep his shouting to a whisper. “Look what you’ve done! You’ve defiled the holy water of Rapha!”

Cooper looked into the fountain. The water level was down to about a quarter of what it had been, and noticeably browner. “Um… sorry.” The belch which followed shook the air, causing the hanging brass braziers to quiver and cast strange shadows about the temple. That felt good.

“We’re very sorry.” Julian made a desperate attempt at a Diplomacy check. “He’s just –”

“Get out, all of you!” said the priest. The façade of kindness was gone from his face. “If I ever see any of your miserable faces again, I’ll have you arrested and hanged!”

“Come on, guys,” said Tim. “Let’s go.”

“And may your sister burn in the fiery abyss!”

“Why you little…” Tim ran at the priest. Cooper quickly stepped between them and held Tim back with one hand. With the other hand, he punched the priest square in the face, knocking him out cold.

The rest of the group looked up at him in stunned silence.

“What?”

“Dude,” said Dave. “You just punched a priest in the face.”

“He had it coming.”

“We seriously have to get out of here,” said Julian.

The group booked it down the stairs back into the cover of early morning darkness.

Chapter 19

“I wish he didn’t live on top of a mountain,” Julian complained to anyone who was listening. His thighs burned with each forced step. “It’d be faster if I conjured up some horses.”

“Save your spells,” Tim said without turning around. “We don’t want to get there fast.” The pace he was keeping suggested otherwise. If he felt any burning in his little thighs, he wasn’t bothered about it. “We want to strike during the day. Catch that bastard by surprise when he’s at his weakest.”

Tim’s estimate of how long it would take to reach the fort turned out to be wrong. Though they were uninterrupted by dire badgers, giant squirrels, or whatever other ridiculous creatures which might inhabit the mountain, Dave simply couldn’t keep the pace.

It wasn’t his fault. He just wasn’t built for speed. Huffing and puffing as he marched in his armor, he reminded Julian of a World War I tank. He wasn’t something you’d necessarily want to face in combat, but at the same time he looked as though he could fall apart at any moment.

When they finally reached the summit, Julian leaned back against the rock wall. He peeked his head over the top to check for zombies. A few of them were stumbling around, but they were pretty far off, and shouldn’t be too much bother. Beyond them, Julian saw the sun, almost touching the horizon. “We’re too late.”

“Like hell we are!” said Tim. “It’s still light out. We can make it if we go now!”

“No,” panted Dave. “Don’t forget. We still have to get past those two gorillas at the front door.”

Cooper grabbed Tim by the arm.

“The hell with them,” said Tim, making a show of trying to get free. “I’ll kill them too.”

“This was not the plan,” said Stuart.

“Fuck the plan!”

“Stuart’s right,” said Dave. “Millard’s our target. Any effort we waste on those two is going to make our chances of taking down a vampire even worse than it is already.”

“But –”

“Listen,” Dave insisted. “He doesn’t even know that we know about Katherine. He may just let us inside without a struggle. You know, tell us some bullshit about how she’s not feeling well or something, and would we mind coming back at another time.”

Tim stopped struggling and shrugged his arm. Cooper let go. “Keep talking.”

“We’ll get in there,” said Dave. “Alone with Millard, get Cooper’s stake ready, surround the fucker, and strike when it best suits us.”

Tim nodded.

“You just keep your mouth shut and let Julian do all the talking.”

Tim stepped aside and gestured for Julian to lead the way.

Julian swallowed hard. His Charisma score made him the natural choice to be the face of the party, but he hated being in a position of leadership. This was a particularly sticky situation. He barely knew Tim in the real world. It wasn’t his place to lead his sister’s murder vengeance. What if he screwed up? All their lives were on the line.

“Julian,” said Tim.

“Huh?”

“Are you up for this?” Tim’s eyes were pink and watery.

“Yeah,” said Julian. “Of course. But listen. You guys have got to keep your shit together. We can’t take those two door guards. And once they disarm us, all we’ve got going for us is a wooden stick up Cooper’s ass. We have to play this cool. We’re just here for a routine visit, right?”

Cooper, Dave, and Stuart nodded. Tim closed his eyes.

“Tim?” said Julian. Tim nodded.

Julian took a deep breath and stepped out into the open, and the others filed in behind him. As expected, Horace and Boris stood at the front entrance of the fort like two massive iron statues. An occasional blink was the only sign they gave that they were alive.

“Evening, gentlemen!” Julian called out as cheerfully as he could. “How goes the watch?”

Horace curled up one side of his upper lip, exposing his brown teeth. Boris spit on the ground. It landed among a multitude of other spit puddles in a semi-circular pattern radiating about three feet from his boots.

Julian stopped his advance a solid few inches before the arc of spittle. Never so clearly defined was the border of a person’s personal space. He forced his lips into a wide smile. “We seek audience with the lady of the house. I present to you my weapon so that you may keep it safe during our visit.” He held his quarterstaff in front of him sideways, resting on his palms.

“The master still sleeps,” said Horace. “You’ll have to come back later.”

Boris spit on the ground again.

Julian looked west. The sun was naught but a sliver of red on a rocky grey horizon. He turned to the group in the hope that one of them would suggest a next course of action. Tim stood hidden behind Cooper. Dave shrugged. Cooper picked his nose.

“Allow me,” said Stuart. He stepped forward, removing the hood from his smooth bald head. He raised his arms out to the side in an exaggerated gesture of peace. “Good sirs! We are but humble travelers. I beseech thee to recon –”

As soon as Stuart stepped over the spit threshold, Boris moved like a viper. He grabbed Stuart by the shoulders and put an armored knee in his junk.

“Oooh,” said Cooper, wincing. “Right in the chakras.”

Julian stepped back, his hands tightening around his quarterstaff. Horace’s face caught his eye. His eyebrows were raised, and his smile revealed more of his brown teeth. Why was he smiling?

“Julian!” shouted Dave. “What are you doing?”

“Huh?” said Julian. Horace’s eyes were on his quarterstaff. It occurred to Julian that the way he was holding it might be mistaken for aggression.

“Wait,” said Julian. “No. You don’t think that I was –” he stumbled on some rocks as he continued his slow backward retreat. Horace began to unsheathe his sword, and the echo of steel sliding against leather meant that Boris was doing the same thing. “Hold on now, guys! I wasn’t –”

It was too late. Cooper was unstrapping his axe and Dave was readying his bow. Julian couldn’t see Tim, and Stuart was still rolling on the ground cradling his nuts. He’d fucked it all up, and now they were going to die before they even got to see the vampire.

“Been a while since we killed us an elf,” said Horace. “Eh, Boris?” Boris spit on the ground. “Must be goin’ on weeks.”

“You’ve got the wrong idea,” said Julian, holding his stick out in front of him. The rational part of his brain told him to drop it. This was all a misunderstanding, after all. There’s no way the hulking giant wielding the sharpened steel fence post could misinterpret that.

The panicked stupidity center of his brain, however, was way more active at present, and told him to hold onto that stick like it was the rope leading out of hell.

“Can’t remember the last time an elf raised a weapon at me,” said Horace. He raised his sword. “I gots to tell you. I’m really gonner enjoy this.”

“No!” shouted Cooper. He stepped between Horace and Julian and swung his great axe.

With all the passion of a supermarket checkout clerk, Horace stepped out of the way of the axe, twisted Cooper’s arm behind his back with his free hand, and smashed the hilt of his sword into Cooper’s face. Cooper fell to his knees spitting blood through his hands.

“My fucking teef!” Cooper spat.

Within the space of one second, Horace had disabled the party’s strongest fighter, and his eyes had only briefly flickered away from Julian. What did this guy have against him? Maybe he just hates elves. Fucking racist.

Horace continued his slow advance, and Julian braced himself for what he hoped would be a swift death.

“Enough!” Millard’s voice boomed down from atop the wall.

Horace’s face went from gleeful, murderous hate to annoyance, but he lowered his sword.

“These men are my friends,” Millard continued. “And they shall be treated with every courtesy.” Millard’s form was silhouetted against the purple evening sky. He stood alone.

Julian looked back at Tim, and the kettle-about-to-boil look on his face told Julian that this detail had not escaped Tim’s notice. Julian shook his head slowly. Tim closed his eyes and inhaled.

“Kindly relieve these gentlemen of their weapons and allow them inside.” And with that, Millard disappeared behind a crenellation.

“No hard feelings, huh?” said Dave as he handed over his mace and holy symbol. Boris took them, spat on the holy symbol, and tossed them in the weapons box.

When the weapons were all safely boxed away, the red light descended through the crack between the doors. When it reached the bottom, Horace and Boris opened the doors.

“Hey guys,” said Katherine, standing alone in the doorway. She was dressed in a grey cotton turtleneck, with pants to match. It was an odd look. She might have been going to the gym or to the library. Somehow it suited her.

An awkward moment of silence passed as everyone stood slack-jawed in the doorway.

“What’s up?”

“Kat!” said Tim. He ran up and hugged her around one leg, smearing tears and snot on her cotton pants.

“Come on, guys,” said Julian, nudging the rest of the group through the doors which were still being held open by the impatient-looking psychopath guards.

“What the hell, little brother?” said Katherine. She looked uncomfortable as she patted his head. They were obviously not a very huggy family.

When the doors were fully closed behind them, Dave spoke up. “We thought you were dead. We thought Millard killed you.”

“Ha!” Katherine said. “Millard’s in love with me. He’d never kill me. He’s done just the opposite, in fact.”

“Oh,” said Dave. “That’s nice, I guess.”

“Wait a second,” said Julian. “Your character sheet said you were dead. We all saw it. And anyway, what does that even mean? What’s the opposite of killing somebody?
Not
killing them?”

“He’s given me eternal life.”

Tim pushed away from his sister and looked up at her face.

“Is this a Jesus thing?” asked Cooper. “Cause I don’t want to –”

“Shut up, Cooper,” said Tim.

“Okay.”

“Katherine,” said Tim. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“I did.”

“Why would you…?” said Tim. “How could you…? What were you thinking?”

“Good evening, gentlemen!” said Millard, suddenly appearing at the other end of the foyer.

“Why you creepy son of a who—” said Tim.

Cooper grabbed him before he even completed his first step. He clapped one hand over his mouth and held him up against his chest with his other arm. Cooper winced a bit as Tim bit his hand, but he didn’t let go. He was careful to keep Tim’s flailing legs away from his balls.

“Um…” said Cooper. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Katherine’s a vampire,” said Dave.

“Oh,” said Cooper. “Sweet.”

“I see you’ve already given away our little surprise,” said Millard.

Katherine shrugged. “Sorry.”

“The little fellow seems to have gotten himself pretty worked up at the news.”

“Yeah,” said Katherine. “He’s… um… thrilled.”

Cooper lowered his head to Tim’s ear. “Dude,” he whispered. “Chill the fuck out.”

Tim stopped biting Cooper’s hand and nodded his head. Cooper set him down. Tim spat out half-orc blood and filth and wiped his face with his sleeve.

Cooper held up his bleeding hand to Dave. He was still bleeding out of his own mouth as well. “I’m gonna need your help when I get back.”

“Of course,” said Dave.

“Hold on,” said Julian. “Back from where?”

“I’ve got to use the bathroom,” said Cooper. “If that’s all right with you.”

“By all means,” said Millard. “You remember how to get there, I trust.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Cooper. “Last door on the left.”

“Are you sure you need to go?” asked Julian.

“I’ve got something inside me,” said Cooper impatiently, “that needs to come out.”

“Ew,” said Katherine. “We don’t need a play-by-play. Just go do your business.”

Julian rubbed his hands together. They might not have to follow through with the plan. If Cooper came back with a wooden stake in his hand, there would be no turning back. “Shouldn’t we talk about it first?”

Katherine and Millard stared at Julian. Tim, Dave, and Stuart stared down at their feet.

“Cooper,” said Katherine. “Go to the bathroom, now.” Cooper ran down the hallway with his hands clapped over the back of his loincloth. “Your new friend’s a fucking weirdo, Tim.”

“I didn’t mean…,” Julian stopped. It didn’t matter. He walked over to where Tim, Dave, and Stuart were standing. “Do you mind if we have a word alone?” he asked Millard.

“Be my guest!” said Millard. “Katherine, dear. Why don’t you help me in the kitchen? We can fetch some snacks for our visitors.”

When Millard and Katherine had gone, Julian made his case. “Do you guys think we still need to go through with this?” he whispered.

“Go through with what?” said Tim.

“Killing Millard.”