A Strange Place in Time III: The Merry Executioner Returns Read online

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  Torquere Press

  www.torquerepress.com

  Copyright ©2009 by Alyx Shaw

  First published in www.torquerepress.com, 2009

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue

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  Chapter One

  Arrowsmith crossed the grass, his arm around Infamous as they made their way to the little run-down house. To his left walked Monshikka, ghostly white in the light of the full moon and stunningly beautiful. Arrowsmith said nothing as they walked along, and Infamous as well as Monshikka seemed to be sensing that all was not well. The trio all stopped at the same time, a sure sign they had known each other far too long. Infamous reached out and took Arrowsmith's hand.

  "What's the matter, love?” he asked softly.

  Arrowsmith looked from Infamous to Monshikka, his expression pained. For a long moment, he struggled with what he had to say. Then he smiled and reached out to touch Infamous’ face.

  "Infamous, I love you more than I have words to say. And I love my parents. They're good people. But ... my dad ... can be a little hard to take at times. And ... I don't want you to be upset by anything he says."

  Monshikka immediately came to Infamous’ defense, red eyes alive with wrath. “Arrowsmith, with all due respect to your esteemed father, I will not tolerate him abusing Infamous in any manner."

  Arrowsmith had to laugh. “No one is allowed to pick on him but you, right?"

  Infamous grinned at Monshikka, who put an arm around the Thief's shoulders. “That is precisely what I mean."

  Arrowsmith chuckled. “Look, he's a good guy. He took me in, raised me, fed me, clothed me, spent time with me, taught me things ... He didn't have to do any of that. He could have tossed me into a foster home and forgot about me. But ... he's not exactly Mr. Sensitive New-Age Guy. He might not be real happy about me being in love with you."

  Infamous opened his mouth, but did not get a chance to speak before Monshikka did.

  "Well, what in the name of Creation is wrong with Infamous? What can he possibly object to? His breeding? His occupation? His hair?"

  "His gender,” said Arrowsmith.

  Infamous and Monshikka both gave Arrowsmith the ‘you must be kidding' look of a lifetime. Monshikka shook his head slightly, as though not certain of what he had heard. “I beg your pardon?"

  "My dad isn't really big on the idea of men being in love with other men."

  Monshikka pulled Infamous closer, his long, white robe enfolding the little Thief protectively. “That is the single most ridiculous thing I have heard in several lifetimes."

  "Come on, Monshikka, your own people aren't wild about the idea, either."

  "My people are mad. Reasonable folk do not think such things."

  "Well, I can't argue with that. Look, all I'm saying is forgive the old guy, okay? He's had a hard life, and he's done a lot for me, okay?"

  "Very well,” said Monshikka, cold and regal. “But if he upsets my Thief, I shall have words with him."

  "He's my Thief, thank you very much."

  "I won't be anybody's Thief, if you two don't stop arguing over me!"

  "Sorry, sunshine.” Arrowsmith gently pulled Infamous close and kissed him. Arrowsmith put his right arm around Infamous, then offered his left arm to Monshikka, who accepted it. Together they walked toward the small fire and the four people seated around it, speaking quietly.

  "I'm back!” Arrowsmith announced. “Silver, I brought the guy you're impersonating. Silver, may I present to you Prince Monshikka Starlit of Kirianna.” Arrowsmith turned to look at Infamous, but he seemed to have moved so he was slightly behind Arrowsmith. Arrowsmith grinned at him. “You're cute."

  Infamous eyed Arrowsmith's family like a cat watching a strange object. “They're huge."

  "Sorry, I didn't have time to shrink them."

  Silver stood and turned to look at Monshikka, then dropped to his knees, jaw hanging open, looking like he had just met Jesus Christ. He stared at the man before him, mouth working soundlessly, trying to speak.

  "Real classy, Silver,” said Arrowsmith.

  Silver swallowed, then said, his voice full of awe, “Finland, he's beautiful."

  "Get up, you twit."

  "I mean, he is ... really beautiful!"

  "You said that.” Arrowsmith stepped forward and pulled his friend to his feet. Silver staggered up, unable to take his eyes from Monshikka.

  "He's an Elf, right? Tell me he's an Elf."

  "He's an Elf."

  "Is he?"

  "No, you stunned bastard, he's human."

  Monshikka stepped forward. “Arrowsmith, is this man quite all right?"

  "He's fine, he just thinks you're the most beautiful man he's ever seen."

  "Ah, a madman with taste."

  Silver stepped forward, but Arrowsmith gently pulled him back and spoke into his ear. “Whatever you do, do not touch him. It is strictly forbidden, and I would hate to see you executed your first night here."

  Silver blinked in surprise. “I just saw you touch him. Do I have cooties or something?"

  "Yeah, you have serious, radioactive, Day-Glo cooties. Look, it's nothing personal. But he's a virgin prince of..."

  "He admits he's a virgin? Like ... in public?"

  "Silver! C'mon, pay attention, man. You are not on Earth, okay? I'm trying to keep you from getting killed. You do not ever, under any circumstance, put a hand on him without his permission, do you understand? Do you want to know what the penalty is for laying a finger on any part of his anatomy without his consent? If you're lucky, they'll only cut your hands off. Where he comes from, virtue is serious bloody business. DON'T. Touch him. Clear?"

  Silver nodded, subdued by the warning, then stepped forward once more. He and Monshikka gazed at each other, the prince and the pauper, mirror reflections of what each other's lives may have been had the dice roll of the gods come up differently.

  "Do I bow?” asked Silver.

  Arrowsmith smiled at his friend fondly. “If you want to be really formal, you get down on one knee and bow your head."

  "Oh, and me with arthritis in my back and hip and two bad knees. And who's gonna help me get back up again?"

  "I'll help ya. After I laugh at you, of course."

  "Okay, fine."

  Arrowsmith kept an eye on Monshikka as Silver got down on one knee and bowed to him. Monshikka actually smiled slightly.

  "That is very sweet, but hardly required, Arrowsmith. Did you tell him to do that?"

  Arrowsmith shrugged. “He wanted to."

  "He's adorable. I think I'll keep him."

  "I told him not to touch you."

  "Wise. A deplorable old custom, but there would be a great deal of trouble if I did not honor it."

  Silver got up, and not easily. He watched Monshikka with unabashed awe, and it was obvious the Ice Prince was more than a little amus
ed with him. Infamous glanced from one to the other.

  "Praise the Creator they won't breed."

  Arrowsmith gently pulled Infamous close for a quick kiss, then led the little Thief over to his parents and uncle. Infamous tried to hide again, but Arrowsmith once more pulled him forward.

  "Come along, small paranoid one, they won't bite."

  "They smell funny.” Infamous sniffed. “No, actually, they smell like you."

  "Yeah, well, I've smelled you after a night of robbing people's houses and falling into dog runs and whatnot.” Arrowsmith planted Infamous before him, feeling the nervous tension running through Infamous’ small body like live current.

  "Mom, Dad, Smash...” Arrowsmith took a deep breath, trying to prepare himself for whatever reaction he got. “This is my husband, Ithra."

  He felt Infamous push back against him, preparing to bolt. Arrowsmith rolled his eyes as he heard the little half-Elf hiss quietly.

  "Infamous, this is my family, not a pack of zombies."

  Infamous hissed again, a distinctly Elvish noise on Dargoth.

  "Welcome to the family, brother!” exclaimed Smash, at a volume that likely had half the city sitting up in bed. Arrowsmith sighed heavily as Infamous evaporated into mist and night air.

  "You scared him,” said Arrowsmith.

  "We scared him?” yelled Mother. “Where the fuck did he go?"

  "Not far, rest assured.” Arrowsmith noticed a quick glint of diamond moving on the roof. No, Infamous had not gone far. He would sit and watch and learn who these people were before he decided if he could trust them.

  "What the hell is he, a ghost?” Mother yelled.

  "Dad, don't yell, you're not out on Marsden Road anymore. Look, let's have a seat; I'll tell you anything you want to know."

  They sat. Arrowsmith glanced over at Silver and Monshikka, the pair cautiously learning to communicate. They appeared to be at the 'You Tarzan, me Jane' stage. Silver bounded off to get Monshikka a chair, then sat on the grass before him, staring at the prince with the same look of awe on his face as when he first saw Monshikka. Arrowsmith smiled.

  "Good luck, Silver,” he whispered.

  Mother glanced around, still not happy about Infamous turning to vapor right before his eyes. “So, your friend, he's still here?"

  "He's on the roof, Dad."

  Mother didn't look; he seemed scared. “Freakiest thing I ever saw."

  "Sorry about that. He's the nervous type."

  Smash seemed to have no problem at all with Arrowsmith's announcement that the strange little man was his husband. “How long the two of you been together?"

  "Pretty much since you saw me last."

  Mother seemed concerned and thoughtful. “Ugly little thing."

  "He's not ugly, Dad. He's really very sweet. You'd like him if you knew him."

  "He looks like Bob Marley and Christian Slater's love child. What's his name again? Ezra?"

  "Ithra. It means ‘Infamous.’”

  Mother decided he just wasn't comfortable with this. “Well, I think it's bed time.” He looked at his wife. “You coming?"

  She nodded. “I think so.” She stepped forward and gave Arrowsmith a hug. “Goodnight, Johnny. I'm so glad to have you home again."

  He laughed and hugged her back, then watched as she and Mother made their way back to the house, while Smash set up his sleeping bag by the fire. Arrowsmith got up and made his way over to Silver and Monshikka.

  "I'm heading in. Are you two going to be all right?"

  "I shall be just fine, Arrowsmith,” said Monshikka. “Sleep well."

  "Silver? I'm going to bed."

  "Night,” said Silver, in a tone of voice that suggested he really wasn't listening.

  Arrowsmith grinned, then looked back toward the roof. He briefly saw a shadow, but then it vanished. It caught up with him as he walked toward the Palace. Arrowsmith slid his arm around Infamous.

  "Well, that was a lovely introduction; he scared you and you scared him."

  "I'm sorry about that,” said Infamous. “I didn't mean to, but your uncle was just so loud. He certainly looks like you."

  "Yeah, well, there's a rumor floating around that he may be my actual father."

  "You don't know?"

  "Neither of us knows. I've asked Smash about it, but Smash doesn't have much of a memory anymore. He doesn't even remember if he was ever with the woman who gave birth to me. Anyway, I don't like thinking about it. I'm exhausted, let's just go to bed."

  Together they walked to their bedchamber. Once there, Arrowsmith dropped his clothes and slid under the covers. Moments later, he felt Infamous snuggle up against him, and he slid his arms around the small, wiry body.

  "So good to be home,” said Arrowsmith quietly.

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  The Court gathered in the upper floor of the Forbidden Library, the one place in the Palace where nothing could spy on them. Blue sat on the floor, Misty beside him, the large and ancient map of the city of Palaklais spread on the floor before him. His fingers traced lightly over the yellowed parchment. He found what he sought and pointed to it.

  "Here. The entrance to the well of magic.” He turned his gaze to Blackbird, the light of the candles within the room catching and refracting into a million tiny prisms within the depths of his diamond-like eyes. “The Crystal Mages are in a chamber beneath the well. At least, one of them is."

  Blackbird looked down at the well Blue indicated. “Under our very noses, all this time. How did you find this out?"

  "In my travels, I met an old Mycinocroft who used to live in the ruins of the city. It seems over the centuries something has tunneled through the cellars of the old buildings. She said one of the tunnels led to a chamber of blue and green crystal. The chamber had been ransacked, but she gave me this.” Blue pulled out a shard of blue crystal and passed it to Blackbird. “If I am not mistaken, it bears the insignia of the Rain Mage."

  Blackbird looked at the spear of brilliant blue crystal, turning it over in his hands, watching the way it reflected and refracted the light of the fire into a shower of blue sparks. In the midst of the crystal was part of an insignia: a drop of water suspended over the stylized form of a swimming Mycinocroft.

  "That is the Rain Mage's symbol,” said Blackbird. He passed back the shard. “Well, that is not proof they are there, but it seems to me as good a place to start as any."

  One of the enchanted cats hopped into Blue's lap, and he stroked its soft fur, smiling as it flopped onto its side, cat-fashion, its red eyes bright with kitty mischief. Monshikka picked up the map and studied it.

  "I believe I have a more complete map of this area,” he said. He set the old map on a nearby table and went to a shelf full of scrolls and papers.

  Infamous gave the kitty a gentle scratch behind the ears, smiling and pulling his hand back quickly as the little animal unsheathed long, deadly claws and batted at him. Arrowsmith looked up as Monshikka approached briefly to place a book on the floor, then returned to the shelf. The rest of the Court eyed the tome, then Misty reached out and opened it. He laughed.

  "Monshikka, where did you get this?"

  "Oh, you would be quite surprised at what I have stashed up here."

  Arrowsmith leaned forward. “Oh, geez, look at that! Ancient photographs! I keep forgetting you used to have stuff like that!"

  Misty turned the page, then quickly flipped past it. “Oops, no need to see that."

  Arrowsmith grabbed the book and flipped to the previous page. “Misty, is that you?"

  "No!"

  Arrowsmith roared with laughter. “What did you do to your hair?"

  "Hey, I will have you know that cut was very stylish a thousand years ago! Let's see if we can find you. Oh, look, there's Blue glaring. And there's Blue sneering. And there's Blue threatening the photographer with a mallet."

  Blue smiled. “Those have obviously been altered. I am a sweet and gentle forest creature."

  "Suuuuuuuuuuuure,” said Infamous.
“Look, there's Blackbird in the hospital. And there he is in the hospital again. And here he is leaving the hospital. Who's the kid beside you?” Infamous picked up the book and studied the picture. “Tell me that's not me."

  The Moonhound came to look over his shoulder. “Yes, that is you, little Thief."

  "Hey, I was cute! How come I'm so darn ugly now?"

  Arrowsmith kissed him. “You're still cute. Oh, gawd, is that me?” Arrowsmith flipped the page. “Well, that was bloody awful. There's Sly as a fuzzy baby."

  Sly had been stretched out on the rug. He rolled over to look at the picture of himself as a very small child in a diaper, the stripe of grey fur down his back marking him as half-Mycinocroft. He snorted, then put his head back down, ignoring his friends as they gushed over how cute he was as a baby.

  "This is amazing,” said Blackbird. “It's a record, of us, of the change from technology to magic. Look, there I am with Snow Wolf.” He looked at his wife. “Moonhound, now."

  "You're beautiful!” said Wess.

  The Moonhound actually giggled, a rare noise, indeed, from her. “Wess, I will have you know my husband is right here."

  "I was talking about your husband! Look at him!"

  They looked at the photo of Blackbird, seated on a stone wall outside the great and solemn stone structure that had once been a university; now a ruined but still striking building just outside Twin Lakes. He wore his long coat and high boots, a long, velvet ribbon in his hair. It was the style of the young men at the time, but it did nothing to make Blackbird look masculine.

  "Who took this picture?” asked Misty.

  "Marakim, believe it or not,” said Blackbird. “Moonhound and I were friends of his, back then. That was how we ended up with Ilenya ... Infamous now. Look, there he is, in this picture. Behold the Dawn Thief."

  The photo was one of the Moonhound wearing a long skirt, of all things, flowers braided into her hair, smiling, her arm around a strikingly handsome young man. His eyes were green and bright, his hair long and red, his skin fair. He was dressed well for the times, but his clothes were faded and showed signs of wear.

  "He's a handsome lad,” said Arrowsmith. “I thought Marakim was blind."