Spy Games, page 10
"Don't you yup me," I told her.
"Dad, Mum's right. They haven't been teaching me any advanced stuff, but the whispers, the words, they're the easy bit. Sure, they like to teach convoluted ways of doing things, and you do have to get the words in the exact order with the right intonations, but that's merely a way of increasing the power you draw, of focusing your mind. Like Mum and Grandma said, it's mostly about faith in your own abilities and in the Necroverse. I have faith. I know I can do it. So I did. And that wasn't my first morph. I've done a few now."
"And you never said?" asked Phage.
Jen shrugged. "No biggie. I do it all the time with Tyr, and Dad took me with him, remember?"
"We remember," I told her. "You feel okay doing it?"
"No, it hurts so much," she laughed. "Unbelievably painful."
"Please be careful, and don't keep things like that a secret," said Phage. "You need to let us show you how, and the best way to progress."
"I always thought whispers were about the actual words?" I asked Phage. "That you learned the power of them when used in the right way?"
"Soph, you know that's not all there is to it. Yes, certain spells, although I hate calling them that, need utter precision, but that's because of the imprint they've caused in the Necroverse over so many generations. When a whisper is first created, it makes a tiny ripple in the fabric of the Necroverse, but once a thousand, ten thousand witches have used it in exactly the same way, it becomes more powerful, can cause more of an effect when used. The more a whisper is used precisely as it was before, the bigger the ripples in the Necroverse, and the more potent it becomes. You know all this."
"I try to forget," I told them both, grinning. "But that's not what I meant. Jen, did you use a taught whisper or one you made up on the spot?"
"I, er, I guess I made it up. I wanted to pulverize his arm, turn the bone to dust, and I would have too if you hadn't stepped in. I could feel it working, saw it, and I was so angry, but calm too, like you taught me. I felt invincible, and I was scared, but chilled at the same time."
"That's good, I think," I told her, raising an eyebrow to Phage to help me out.
"It's beyond good. It's incredible. You shouldn't be able to create a new whisper and have it work like that. There's too much involved. Too many nuances." Phage put her hand up to stop me interrupting, "And yes, I know I said whispers are just a way to channel your connection, but a new whisper from a student never carries much weight."
"Unless she's utterly awesome," said Jen with a cheeky smile.
"Which you are," I agreed. "Okay, what about the actual corpse? How are you with that? I know you've seen bodies before, but never like this."
"I haven't seen him. Is it horrid?"
"Yes, my little apple, it's utterly horrid and you mustn't go outside until I've dealt with it. But are you okay with me and your mum doing that?"
"He would have hurt us. I know that for a fact. Maybe worse. He put a knife at my throat and could have easily killed me, so yes, I'm okay with it. Not bothered, actually. Shaken up about what happened, but not sad for him."
"What if he was desperate, confused, mind not right, and he didn't know what else to do? So broken, his mind so deranged, that he acted out of sheer desperation and was too hungry to know what he was doing?"
"That would be totally different and I'd do all I could to stop him without hurting him. I wouldn't kill someone no matter what they did if there was another option. Only if they truly were lost to themselves, though. He was different, we all knew that. He was cruel, lazy, mean, and wouldn't have thought twice about murdering a teenager in front of her parents or the parents in front of me. So, yeah, whatever." Jen waved it all away, showing she wasn't concerned about the loss of life, merely that such a scary thing had happened.
"Okay, then I'm going to go deal with it. With him. No coming outside," I warned again.
"We won't," said Phage. "We'll get your things ready. You need to get going, Soph. You're already pushed for time."
"I know, but what's a poor Necro to do?"
I left them to it while I went to dispose of the latest in a very long line of corpses.
NEW SANCTUARY
There was zero chance of me being able to discover the man's identity. He was so mangled, such a twisted and vile example of how small a space a broken body can occupy, that it was impossible to find his pockets and pull out his wallet. That was assuming he was idiot enough to carry his ID around with him when going on his short-lived house calls to some of the resident Necros. The guy was just lucky he hadn't tried this bullshit next door on Job and Shae—they wouldn't have let him get off so lightly.
With a deep breath, and a tensing of my back, as last thing I needed was to get a twinge when I had a busy, and no doubt exhausting few days ahead of me, I grabbed his jean's waistband again and began dragging him down the garden, leaving a smear of filth in my wake.
That wouldn't do; this was where we hung out and played. I decided to manhandle the flesh lump into a wheelbarrow instead, no easy feat, but got it in by tipping the wheelbarrow sideways then rolling the body forward until the barrow righted. With a quick hose down of the offending stains on the short grass, I continued on my way. I wheeled the barrow past the chicken compound, the various barns and outbuildings that were nowhere near full because Job had bought us a home way larger than our needs even with all the animals, and through a series of gates that led to paddocks, vegetable plots, orchards, and even several fields for crops we were trying our best to cultivate. Eventually, I made it through the last gate and into a broad field that contained Sanctuary.
I dumped the body out, took the wheelbarrow back to the gate and left it there, then turned and surveyed the new home of Tyr and Rocky, and where Jen spent much of her time now, too. I didn't blame her, as all kids want their own space and somewhere away from their parents. She was just fortuitous enough to have somewhere she could escape to.
Job had made an astonishing effort finding the property for us, and he'd gone to great lengths to ensure Tyr and Jen had somewhere they could grow up together into adulthood. The previous Sanctuary had been an extraordinary feat of engineering and sheer stubbornness when it came to the construction, but this was something else entirely. It was a complete home for Jen, although she used it as a hangout, not to live in, and I hoped she never would, and perfect for Tyr now he was larger and preferred to be as high as possible.
The ground encircling the magnificent water tower was compact and little but dust and stubborn grass. No need to mow here, as the constant footfall of Tyr, Rocky, and Jen saw to that. Much of the ground was coated in ash, with numerous scorch marks where Tyr had practiced belching fire or merely roasted the outside of his meat—he liked it rare bordering on bloody. Actually, he loved the blood more than anything.
The field as a whole was faring much better, with lush vegetation and the beginnings of a flower meadow Phage, Jen, and I had spent an age preparing then sowing. Next year should see it become a pure wild paradise. I'd mown several pathways through the poppies and daisies, and the yellow rattle had done well, slowly replacing the stubborn grass.
But it was the tower itself that was the true star of the show. Once used to serve the main house and the numerous workers' cottages and other buildings for the extended family that apparently once lorded over the area as was the way back in the day, it had fallen into neglect for decades before the previous owners of both Job's and our properties had spent what must have been an absolute fortune on renovations, including the water tower. Great for us, not so great for them. They ended up having to sell to the ruthless Job for a knockdown price once the credits ran out and the true extent of the cost of maintaining such properties hit home.
The brickwork had been repaired and repointed, windows had been discreetly cut into each level to bring light into a place that was never meant to have it, and the main water basin at the top of the tower had been transformed into an incredible viewing platform with glass spanning three-sixty degrees. As part of the work, the roof had been removed then replaced with steel beams and filled with concrete blocks then covered in turf, the owners clearly hopeful of milder weather down the line.
Obviously, the grass didn't take, but in its stead weeds, alpines, succulents, and all manner of plants had found refuge there and thrived under the arid conditions that nevertheless acted as a well designed catchment for any moisture that happened to land. The end result was a wide overhanging platform of compact earth ideal for a grand dragon and his friends.
I smiled as I looked up and saw Tyr's tail hanging over the side. It swished back and forth lazily; Tyr was soaking up the sun, basking as he did more and more these days. Dragons thrived on heat, so our climate was perfect for him, and the older he got the more he relied on solar energy to power his strong muscles and elevate his thinking to scary smart levels.
He'd blossomed in our new home, and had grown at an exponential rate this last year, packing on muscle like he had access to all the steroids and growth hormones. He was freaky strong, smart in ways that always surprised me, yet, just like Jen, still a youngster and very naïve in many ways. I loved him the same as I always had, but pined sometimes for the days when he was a tiny wyrmling trying to balance comically on my shoulder. Kids grow up too fast, even dragons.
"Hey," I hollered, "you coming down or not?"
Tyr peered over the side, then nodded seriously and called, "Tyr is coming. Soph is ready?"
"You know I am," I chuckled, still somewhat uncomfortable with the realization Tyr could basically read my mind.
"Tyr knows," he said solemnly, then slid over the edge like a penguin off an iceberg.
No matter how many times I witnessed this, and often it was with Jen on his back, it still astounded and terrified me. Tyr plummeted headfirst towards the ground, wings tight to his sides, then spread them majestically and angled them slightly so they caught the air. Instantly, his trajectory changed and he swooped away from Sanctuary, belly scraping the ground, leaving a cloud of dust in his whooshing wake.
With a cry of joy, a high-pitched call akin to an eagle but stronger, more potent, sending shivers down your spine, Tyr spiraled ever upward before circling Sanctuary several times to show off before he carefully descended and landed with a long skid beside me, tearing up the ground as he did so.
His snout was so close to my face I could see every tiny scale around his nostrils, his brightly colored eyes as mesmerizing as ever. He blinked lazily then snorted; the unmistakable pungent scent of sulfur hit me with a warm slap that always brought a smile to my face.
"My friend," I laughed, my heart singing for joy, our bond closer than ever.
"Soph is best friend. And Jen, and Phage, and Rocky."
"You sure do have a lot of best friends," I chuckled.
"Is good? Friends are important." Tyr cocked his head to the side, the long, muscular neck swaying like a serpent with a full belly.
"Yes. Family, that's what we are. Family and friends."
"Soph been sleeping? Jen was worried. Not happy. Did bad thing?" Tyr got right up in my face and studied me in his new, even more intense way that was taking some getting used to. For years he'd been able to read me, but I knew it went deeper than that now, yet still hadn't asked just how deep.
"I got drunk and passed out for days. My own fault for drinking anything the Brewer makes. So, yes, I did a bad thing."
"Is fun getting drunk?"
"For a while, but it's never worth it."
"But still do?"
"Yes, and please don't ask me why. It would take more time than I have to explain that to anyone, including myself."
"Tyr knows."
"You do?"
"Is to escape. To be happy and not think bad thoughts."
"You are getting wise."
"Tyr is smart. Knows lots."
"You sure do. Now, can you help me out with this?" I nudged the man ball with my boot. "Make it go away?"
"Tyr will burn and dissolve. Is good?"
"Yes, very. He was a bad man and got what he deserved, but we can't have bodies about the place."
"Tyr would burn if Soph ask even if wasn't bad man. Soph is friend. Family."
"Thank you." I moved away while Tyr prepared himself. His loyalty was unquestionable, and I knew he meant what he said. His morals were very different to mine, to any humans, and you could say it was wrong that he wouldn't question being asked to commit such a deed, but to him the world was a very different place and all that mattered were those close to him. Nobody else was worthy of his consideration. It made him a very dangerous creature indeed, a true wild animal in many ways, and I had to always remind myself of that.
"Watcha doin'?" called Job from the left as he marched over, hitching up his well-worn jeans, swinging a hammer like it was an extension of his arm. Job loved carrying a hammer.
"Nothing fun," I grunted, neither surprised nor annoyed to find him strolling about our land like he owned it. We'd become much more communal since we moved here, spending more time with Job and Shae and, surprisingly for all of us, enjoying it. Job was forever wandering about looking for things to hit with his hammer, or so he could swear at interesting inanimate objects, and we often went for walks with Woofer across their land, popping in for drinks, having meals together, and generally acting like the true friends we were.
"Is that a body? Fuck, that's messed up." Job turned to Tyr. "Hey buddy, you got a job to do, eh?"
"Tyr will burn," he hissed, snorting at Job in way of greeting.
"Destroying the evidence, eh? That's always a good plan." Job raised an eyebrow at me as he came and stood beside me.
"It's a long story, but to make it short, this bastard broke in, held Jen at knifepoint, and wanted our food and tech."
"These fuckers," grunted Job. He kicked the mangled mess before us, then stepped back to my side. "It's gone nuts out there. Every bastard with a knife or a club is out roaming the streets trying to take anything they can find. Did you see the news yesterday? There are riots in every large city, the police can't handle it, and they're shooting anyone who steps even remotely out of line. Basically, the world's gone to shit. The fucking French have gone medieval and turned the power off for weeks now, there's hardly any food there, and the rationing is so strict people are close to starving. It's fucked up is what it is."
"I know how bad it is, but what are we meant to do? Let people take our food? Threaten our children?"
"No bastard way. You do this to them. That sends the right message." Job spat into the dirt and hitched up his jeans again over his worn boots. He ran a grimy hand through his wild hair and sniffed. "You really went to town on this guy, eh? It wasn't Jen that did this, was it?"
"No. It was Phage. She lost it. You don't mess with a mother's child, right?"
"Right. We had a few idiots try it on the other day. Didn't see you around, just Jen, poor thing, and I told her you dirty layabouts would wake up soon, but they tried to nick all our veggies and steal the chickens. It's like that everywhere. People are desperate. They were just kids so we scared them off, but the fucking government needs to sort this shit out before the whole country just goes up in smoke."
"And fast. Sorry about you having to watch out for Jen. I can't believe we screwed up like that."
"Hey, we're family. I get it. You need to unwind now and then. You're late for your note, though. You better get a bloody move on."
"I know. Ugh, what a mess. We'll deal with this guy, then I'll get going."
Job nodded. "Tyr, do your best," he called to the waiting dragon.
Tyr looked to me for assurance and I nodded.
Job and I watched as he took several steps away from the fleshy mess, puffed out his chest, inhaled deeply, then shoved his neck forward sharply as he opened his jaws wide and belched a torrent of fiery orange heat at the remains of a despicable man. The flesh blistered and popped instantly, charring until black as the cloth burst into flame and the skin melted away. For a second I could see the muscle and then it too was gone, no match for the intensity of the flame Tyr could now produce.
Bones collapsed into a sad funeral pyre of molten meat that spat out flesh nuggets before the final strips were incinerated. Charred bones in brittle fragments were all that remained.
Tyr stepped forward and inspected his work, then purged himself of the incredibly powerful acid in his stomach that dissolved the evidence within seconds. The ground sank as the earth become a toxic gas that drifted away from us thanks to the power of Tyr's breath.
This mighty dragon, still a juvenile, and with plenty of growing and developing to do, sank back on his haunches and turned to me, then blinked lazily. "Is good?"
"Yes, and thank you, my friend."
"Soph happy?"
"Um, I think so. It's been a weird day, a weird few days, actually, and it's only going to get worse. But yes, I'm happy. Are you?"
Tyr blinked several more times, thinking it through, before answering carefully. "Is happy when not worried?"
"Kind of. There's more to it than that. But if you think things are good, you have food, like your friends, and have a home, then that's happiness."
"Tyr happy," he confirmed.
"And so am I," said Job with a frown.
"Still feeling weird about it, I see," I chuckled, watching trails of smoke rise lazily from the smoldering earth.
"It's strange. Married to a beautiful woman. Great house, awesome neighbors, loads of hot sex, someone cooking my dinner. It's all too much. I'm not used to being happy, I'm used to swearing at things and whacking them with my hammer. I just don't seem to have the enthusiasm for it any more." Job stared down at his hammer with longing.
I slapped him on the back and laughed. "Welcome to the world of happily married men. Go with it, my friend. Enjoy it. This is what life's all about."
Job grunted, then we stood in silence, watching the smoke meander away. Two lucky guys watching the last vestiges of another man's life blow away on the breeze.
