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[Laufey]

Chapter 10

Wanna save your skin, boy?
You wanna save your hide?
You wanna see tomorrow?
You better step aside
Better take a tip, boy
Want some good advice?
You better take it easy,
'Cause you're walkin' on thin ice

‘Mean Green Mother From Outer Space’, Little Shop Of Horrors

Meanwhile, Edwin had decided to pass the time by playing with the toy frog he had got back at the museum shop, before the whole Elvira 2 mess had even started. The clones were happy to join in, and soon they were letting the frog leap from one of them to the other, and having a good time of it. Edwin decided that maybe, just maybe, his Simulacrums weren’t entirely worthless after all. It occurred to him that perhaps he should wish for a little brother or sister for his birthday again – true, he hadn’t got one before, but you never knew, it could work, and he was sure a real sibling would admire and worship him tremendously as he obviously deserved, and never ever pick fights like the clones did. Edwin was just about to suggest this to his mother when the tent flap was pushed aside, and a vast shadow blotted out the door.

It was Rory Ravonar. The tattooed wizard was standing there calmly, holding a small box, and he was smiling in a way that had nothing to do with genuine cheer. He was flanked by two men, both of them with pale yellow skin and blank eyes. “Madam Odesseiron,” he said. “I hope I am not interrupting anything important?”

Edwin’s Mother got to her feet, and gave the intruding wizard a contemptuous look. “Ravonar, I find it hard to think of any occupation that is not more important than wasting my time on you. Now get out of here, you know this tent is off limits to you, by the order of the Tharchion.”

“Ah yes…the Tharchion.” Ravonar giggled, all his chins wobbling in a way that made Edwin feel quite queasy. “I’m sure he would object, given the opportunity. As it is though, he won’t get the chance. When I said I meant to win this contest, I didn’t just mean a certain bet, satisfying as that will be – I mean to win it all.” He gave Elvira 2 an amused glance. “I see you’ve managed to make that Mantrap survive – impressive, but it won’t help you. I have brought two plants, you see. Even now, my Yellow Musk Creeper is attracting new victims, focusing on such people as might be a threat to me and turning them into plant-infested zombies. Take a look at these two specimens I brought along, how utterly obedient they are. They make for an excellent army, you know.”

“I say,” Galen was saying, “that really isn’t very sporting behavior, you know! In fact I think that downright counts as cheating.” He was looking unusually offended, and not nearly as cheerful as normal.

“Pft,” Ravonar said. “All is fair in love and gardening, you fool. Now stay out of this. My business is with your lady wife.”

“Then business it is,” Elvira snarled, and her black hair was practically writing like angry snakes around her shoulders. “Get out of here this instant, you bloated toad, or suffer the consequences. And if you think a few zombies are a match for me, you’re about to be sadly disappointed.”

“No, no, not the zombies,” Ravonar said with a nasty little smirk. “For you, madam, something far more interesting. Obliviax!” He opened the box he was holding, and black light exploded out of it with a screech as of a wailing banshee.

When the terrible light dissipated, Edwin was horrified to see his mother standing there immobile, with an empty and uncomprehending look in her eyes, her arms still raised. The fact that his father looked much the same wasn’t nearly as much of a surprise, there wasn’t all that much of a difference to notice really, but it was still frightening. Convinced that both his parents had been turned into mindless zombies, Edwin tried to scream, but only a muffled yelp came out. Edwin 2 had clasped a hand over his mouth, and Edwin 3 was already dragging him into cover behind the hulking and writhing shape of Elvira 2. “Sssh! He’ll hear you, and he’ll kill all of us!” The clone sounded frantic, about as frantic as Edwin himself felt, but he knew that the Simulacrum was right. Choking down the sobs that wanted to get out, he huddled down low, desperately wanting to be invisible, clinging to his toy frog as if it was a lifeline. Have to help mother and father…have to…somehow…

“No, not the zombies,” Ravonar said with terrible satisfaction. “That would be far too crude for an opponent of significant magical worth. I hope the Obliviax was a satisfactory substitute though.” A mocking pause. “What’s that you say? Madam, you disappoint me. You have never heard of Memory Moss? The plant that sucks out memories, and more importantly magical spells, storing them within itself so that the enterprising wizard can consume them later? And you call yourself a gardener, how pathetic. I doubt you can understand much of what I’m saying at the moment, the moss should have erased your memories of the past hour or so, but let me assure you that whatever spells you had memorized will be put to good use. Once I and my servants are done with you, we will pay a little visit to the Tharchion…and then I will soon rule by default. Pity you will not be there to witness it. And now…good-bye. My servants, att…” And then he was hit full in the face by a very hard, green object, leaping at him with tremendous force.

The sound was very similar to that of a rock dropping onto a bag of nuts. Rory Ravonar screamed, clasping his hands across the bloody ruin that his mouth had become, and then he spotted Edwin. The boy was standing right next to Elvira 2, looking very pale and frightened, but very determined as well. “Take that, ugly old frog-face!” Edwin shouted. The toy frog he had let leap at the wizard was still wobbling a little as it lay on the floor. It almost seemed to be laughing. “Why…why don’t you pick on somebody your own size? Oh, wait, I know! It’s because it’s hard to find somebody else fat enough to be taken for Thaymount, isn’t it?”

Rory Ravonar’s eyes were practically bulging from his sockets now, and his face had gone a red so dark it was bordering on purple. “You…” he breathed. “You…little…BRAT!” His voice was thick and bubbling from behind his smashed lips and broken teeth, and there was a crimson glint in his eyes. Edwin wouldn’t have been surprised to see steam rising from his nostrils.

“I guess,” said Edwin 2, peeking out behind Elvira 2, “that old lard-butt here makes zombies so he won’t have to feel so lonely anymore. He must be really happy to finally have friends with less brains than him.”

“Oh yes,” said Edwin 3, smirking with satisfaction. “Look how confused he’s looking. I bet he’s all stunned by being in our magnificent presence, don’t you think? But he would be, ‘cos he wouldn’t know about talented children, only about that chattering little monkey in the pink dress, and I bet that ‘banana’ is the hardest word she knows.”

And Rory the Roarer roared, his patience finally entirely snapped. He raised his hands, and Edwin could hear him starting the invocation of a spell, one he recognized very well even if he couldn’t yet cast it himself. “Incoming!” he screamed, throwing himself to one side even as the clones leapt the other way. The fireball just missed them, instead impacting with the pot of Elvira 2, rocking it. The plant hissed angrily, tendrils writhing with agitation.

Ravonar was starting another spell, a lightning based one, Edwin thought. He looked across his shoulder, trying to spot the clones. There they were, backed up against the wall of the tent, with no way to go, and the wizard was definitely aiming for them. Desperately Edwin tried to think of something he could do to help the Simulacrums – yes, they weren’t really real people, but all the same they were sort of him. Certainly he liked them much better than many so-called real people he’d met. Which makes sense, since they’re me, sort of. If only he’d had his frog, he could have tried to hit Ravonar again, but it was lying on the ground, a good distance away. He didn’t have any spells memorized either, nothing that could be of use. As for his parents, they were still oblivious to what was going on. And then there were the two zombies…where had they gone?

A strong hand lifted him by the collar, and Edwin screamed as he suddenly found himself dangling in the air. There was a terrible smell coming from directly behind him, something wet and moldy, and earthy. Too terrified to even manage a scream, he turned his head around to see an impassive, yellow face, with eyes as blank as those of a doll. Eeep…

Rory Ravonar momentarily turned his head, a triumphant smile on his face, and gave a brief nod towards the zombie. Edwin struggled to get loose, but the zombie was far too strong. Out of the corner of his eye he could see its fist rising…and at any moment now it would come down and hit his head. Edwin didn’t think he would even be recognizable after that.

Edwin opened his mouth to try to scream again, and just as he did so, the plant zombie’s giant fist exploded. There could be no other word for it, the fist simply evaporated into a rain of sour-smelling plant matter. Edwin got some of it into his open mouth, and immediately spat violently, trying not to gag on the terrible taste. The surprised zombie dropped him to the ground, and he sat there, too stunned to move immediately, his head spinning.

Rory Ravonar broke off his casting, turning around. Edwin hadn’t thought it would be possible for him to look even more livid than he already did, but apparently he had been wrong. There were white spots on Ravonar’s cheeks now, and he was actually growling as his eyes fell upon the entrance of the tent. “YOU!”

Dekaras didn’t answer immediately. Instead he fired the crossbow he was holding once again, the zombie standing over Edwin made an odd coughing sound, and then the creature was suddenly screeching in an inhuman, senseless voice, poking desperately at the smoking hole in its forehead. Acid, Edwin thought with a sudden burst of admiration so fierce it made him feel as if his heart would beat itself out of its chest. That is so great!

“The one and only,” Dekaras calmly remarked, and let the small weapon disappear into the folds of his black cloak with a flash of his fingers. Edwin guessed, quite correctly, that it would take too long to reload to be used effectively in close combat. Then Dekaras spun around, kicking the second zombie hard in the chest. The creature grunted heavily and staggered backwards, but it almost instantly recovered. The assassin circled around it warily, dodging the heavy blows that the zombie aimed at him, clearly looking for an opening for attack.

He broke cover to save me, Edwin thought, horror twisting his insides once again as he realized what was going on. He could have killed Ravonar instead, but he wanted to save me first. And now they’ll all be going after him!

It certainly seemed that he was right about that. Rory Ravonar was smiling again, his hands moving in a deadly pattern, his voice rising and falling as he intoned a spell. Edwin wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but the little tendrils of smoke forming around the wizard’s fingertips looked very, very worrying. And his teacher couldn’t possibly retaliate at the moment, he was still preoccupied with the zombie. Worse, three more zombies were just entering the tent, advancing on the assassin with mindless efficiency.

“No!” Edwin screamed, starting forward – and then somebody grabbed him, yanking him backwards into cover in the shadows behind an old crate containing Galen’s gardening supplies. Edwin tried to scream again, and then he saw who it was who had attacked him, and for a few seconds the entire world seemed to go gray and floating.

“Hush, boy,” Dekaras said, not three inches from Edwin’s face. His black eyes were looking concerned, but relieved at the same time. “You’ve been very brave so far, but now I want you stay put. Whatever happens, keep out of harm’s way, is that understood?”

“Yes…but…you…how…?” Edwin looked from this version of his teacher to the one who was still being menaced by the zombies, feeling very confused. Then, he understood, as his two Simulacrums were briskly herded into the same hiding place, guided there by yet another exact copy of the assassin. But…which one is the real one? Which one is mine?

There wasn’t any time to ask questions though, as both the versions of Dekaras immediately moved out again, presumably going to aid the third one. Edwin did stay behind the crate, he meant to keep his promise after all, but there was no way in the world he was going to be able to resist peeking. His own clones propped themselves up on either side of him, and without even needing to really mention anything about it, the three boys were soon holding each others’ hands tightly.