Catching a Ride
By Tucker McKinzie
Detroit Metro airport buzzed, and Esther was perfectly placed for her next pick up. All she had to do was wait. She checked her app, enjoying the last embers of a Clove; no rides pending — what a drag.
She didn’t hear the man approach, nor his soft “Ahem.” But was made quickly aware of her new guest when he snapped his fingers twice, and in a musical accent said, “Take me to Servintas!” Before she even knew what she was doing, she had unlocked the car.
“Wait,” she said, stopping herself. “You have to sign in on the app.” She turned on her visitor. He wore a light-grey suit over a button up of black and white hounds-tooth, garnished with a yellow ascot. Much of his face hid in the shadow of a matching fedora.
“No, we go,” he snapped his fingers again, his smile wavering slightly.
“Use-the-app. Don’t you have a phone?”
He looked up, eyebrows knit into an expression of confusion and rage. “No, I do not carry a phone, American.”
“Then you’ll have to try someone else. That’s not how this-”
He turned to a passing woman and snapped again. “Put her in the car.”
The woman’s spine snapped straight at his words, her eyes glazed over, and she lunged at Esther.
“What the hell?” Esther tried to fight off a grapple, but the woman’s grip was like steel.
“Also, make sure the car’s unlocked,” said the man, casually taking a glance around and rolling a bag to the trunk.
The lady managed to secure both of Esther’s wrists in one hand. The free hand yanked her keys loose. “Trunk,” said the man and Esther’s attacker fumbled with the remote buttons.
Esther dropped her body weight to yank the attacker off-balance and kicked the woman’s ankle. With a “pop,” it snapped, and they fell, the keys clenched in the lady’s outstretched hand.
“What’s wrong with you?” Esther cried. “Just let go!”
Tears streamed down the woman’s cheeks, but she didn’t respond.
Esther’s trunk slammed closed behind them, and the man approached. “Goodness, no need for this nonsense.” He knelt so that the tip nose was inches from their combat. “Stop.” He snapped his fingers again, and the assailant froze, holding Esther in place.
“Let me go, bitch.” Esther kicked at the woman again, eliciting a small groan.
The man sighed. “Be a bit more cooperative, girl.” To emphasize his point, he pulled a small revolver from his back pocket. “Get into the car.”
~
Esther watched the dazed woman through her rearview mirror as they left her behind. She just stood there, broken ankle and all. The man lounged in the rear seat, gun in hand. “You know,” he chuckled. “It is much more fun doing things this way.”
“What’s going to happen to that her?” Esther asked.
“Considering the beating you gave,” he looked over his shoulder. “She’s probably collapsing in tears right now. That leg can’t hold her up without my help.”
“Your help? Is that what you call whatever you did?”
In response, he just leaned back, making sure his gun caught the light of passing buildings.
A shiver ran up Esther’s spine, and she tightened her grip on the wheel. Maybe it was best she focused on the road ahead, drive to the next stop, and hope he didn’t kill her when they got there.
“Oh relax, girl” the man’s voice came from behind her.
“Hmm?” she muttered, trying to act calm.
“Your knuckles are bone white. Don’t worry. This,” he indicated the gun. “Is merely a precaution.”
“In case of what?”
“In case I have to shoot something. Make sure it is not you.”
“How do I know I won’t end up like the woman back there?”
“She was a tool. You are a person, thus worthy of the courtesies warranted.”
“Do those courtesies include giving me a name?”
He chuckled. “I suppose,” he said. “Call me Vein.”
Vein’s directions were unusual, often doubling over themselves never feeling the same. Each time through, the air grew colder, the shadows lengthened, and the world felt just a bit more lonely. The windows started to fog, frost crusting their edges.
“This will be a problem,” said Vein watching his breath freeze. “Music,” he said. “Put something on. Perhaps jazz?”
Esther obliged, and the car flooded not only with sound but warmth. She shot Vein a questioning glance.
“You’ll find many things you once thought separate, are not so much so.” He blew heat into his hands. “Take a left here.”
The tires bounced from the poorly-maintained side street onto the surface of a freshly paved boulevard. Quickly, the road banked left and plunged a wall of pine trees. All Esther could see was trunk, limbs, and needles, like the forest was acting against them, obscuring the path. Her heartbeat quickened as she looked through the review mirror and found the same was true behind them. The road was literally being eaten by forest, vanishing at a horrifying rate.
“Not bad,” said Vein, then placed his hands on his knees, tilted his head, and started to chant.
His voice filled the car, blending with the radio’s score. The air crackled with energy and pressure built in Esther’s ears, squeezing her head like a vice. Force shoved at the backs of her eyes, and just when she thought they were about to pop, there was a “snap” and the energy dispersed, the trees parted, and the car blasted out into what looked like a downtown alley.
Steam drifted from a utility hole cover ten yards ahead, yellow streetlights, the only source of light, drained all but the drabbest of color from the surrounding buildings. Trash rested in a dumpster to the driver’s side, and on the passenger side, was the strangest thing she’d ever seen.
Standing nearly fifteen feet tall and six feet wide was the hybrid offspring of a castle gate and a bank vault. Four bars extended from a raised gear in its center, each one a lever to make the contraption turn. The apparatus was etched with shapes she’d never seen, but somehow, they felt familiar.
Vein stepped out, snapping his fingers twice. “Stay here.”
Esther’s mind clouded, and she prepared to do as he asked. But again, something in her resisted. The sensation passed, and she started to move but stopped herself. Maybe, if she acted as he wanted, she could escape.
She tried to mimic the woman’s dazed expression from before, and she let her hands fall limp.
The back door opened.
Esther fought looking in the mirror. That other woman’s gaze hadn’t shifted at all.
“That’s much better,” he murmured. The car rocked as his weight shifted and feet crunched the gravel outside.
Esther’s hand almost twitched to the keys. If she could just turn the car on and gun-it before he knew what was happening, maybe-
“Wait.”
She didn’t look up, but she could practically feel Vein’s eyes narrowing as he spoke. “Repeat what I just said.”
Esther’s breaths came quickly. How had he phrased it? “You said to stay here.”
She waited, heart pounding.
“Hmm. Yes, I did didn’t I,” said Vein and he closed his door.
Now! Esther’s instincts flared to life. One hand rushed to the steering wheel as the other flew to her keys.
Then the driver’s side door window shattered. “You think you can lie to me?” Pure rage crackled through Vein’s voice as he leveled his gun to Esther’s temple.
She froze, her hand inches from the keys. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to!”
“Sure you didn’t.” He reached in and grabbed the keys then stepped back, opening the door. “Remember what I said about people and tools?”
Esther nodded.
“Get out of the car.”
“What are we going to do?”
“There is no ‘we.'” He said. “There is me, and you doing what I say.”
“And if I don’t? It looks like whatever-it-is-you-do doesn’t work on me.”
He cocked the gun.
“Right.”
She got out and grabbed his bag from the trunk. Something inside shifted, then scratched at the zipper. She found herself mumbling at the luggage. “You want out? Me too, friend.”
Vein prodded few of the gear’s symbols and chanted something in a language Esther almost understood. The meaning floated in her head but the words twisted as she listened, melting into meaningless sounds. He put his weight onto the gear’s levers, spinning it clockwise and it clicked into place. The runes flashed green, and with a gush of steam, the door swung open.
Esther instinctively pulled the bag between herself and the entryway, while Vein threw his hands up in something between a martial arts stance and a cheerleading pose. Eruptions of static charge danced between his fingers and Esther felt something in her stomach tighten. If anything were to happen now, she’d be ready. Ready to sprint back to the car and… do nothing. He still had her keys, damn it.
Like some over-pressurized soda can, the entryway oozed steam for a few more seconds, then the air cleared, revealing a long hallway. Light from the alley stopped where the door once stood, casting the hall in shadow and the smell of something chemical stung Esther’s nose, as though the building’s innards were doused in antiseptic and raw egg.
“After you, girl,” said Vein.
Esther glared back. “Something tells me I’ve been downgraded to ‘tool.'”
“Easier that way.” He pointed his static-fingers at her. “Now go.”
With a grumble, she stepped forward.
~
With each step forward, the stench grew. Though the hall’s floor was bare of obstructions, Esther still had difficulty navigating with only Vein’s finger-sparks illuminating the way. He utterly refused any additional light, saying it would “Give away their position.”
As if walking down a long hallway after opening a giant, noisy, door hadn’t. If this “Servintas” was here, he already knew their exact location, at least relatively.
Dozens of doors passed, each one of a different shape and make and the smell got so bad that Esther pulled her shirt over her face for protection. It didn’t help much, but at least her detergent mellowed the stench. Vein coughed behind her, and she took a fraction of enjoyment from his suffering.
“Does this place ever end?” She began to ask, but a quick “Shh!” from Vein silenced her.
A light appeared in the distance.
“Is that the ex-”
“Quiet!” he reiterated, and she smiled spitefully.
The light grew brighter, widening into an arched doorframe. Flickering blue images danced into the hallway, combating the darkness, and inside, someone snored.
Vein pushed past her, silent as he rushed the room. The bag jostled as he walked by, almost lurching after him. Esther followed, clinging to the outer walls and making sure the luggage stayed between her and the snoring.
The small room was littered with oddities, making stealthy movement challenging. A fire pit filled much of the central area, covered by a rack supporting bubbling vials. One steamed over, dripping liquid into the flames and turning them pale blue. Stacks of books, often topped with an antique globe or skull, covered the floor like towers threatening to fall at the slightest touch.
The walls were cut from solid stone and curved in an uneven, oval-esque shape that melded with the floor. Bookcases, made to match the room’s lines, stood against the walls, filled with leather bound monstrosities. Esther had to brace herself against a case as the room’s odd dimensions threatened her equilibrium. A strange feeling rose in her gut, and, on its own, her head cranked counterclockwise. Like magic, the room’s lines suddenly evened out.
She turned her head back, and the dimensions returned to their confusing state. A grin graced the corners of her mouth, she settled into the non-nauseating alignment, watching as Vein stumbled forward.
Between the stacks of books and Vein’s lumbering form, Esther caught a glimpse of a small blue couch, and upon it, an even smaller man. Deep wrinkles lined his face, and if it weren’t for their subtle shifting as he slept, Esther might have taken him for an obscure piece of art, or perhaps a corpse. As it were, his open mouth erupted in a snore.
Was this Servintas? He didn’t seem so dangerous.
Vein reached the couch and extended his arm. From somewhere within his sleeve a dagger slid neatly into his palm. Almost too fast to see, the blade plunged towards the man’s throat.
Inches from skin, the dagger paused. With a flash of light, it changed direction and plunged into the cushion, just above the man’s head.
Instantly, Vein was on the retreat, his former victim having risen and done something that superheated the air around them. Esther watched in amazement as the space around Vein rippled. He tried to speak, but coughed instead, his lungs scorched.
The bag jostled, almost pulling Esther from her feet as Vein signaled to her, his hand waving frantically. The older man was watching her too, a look of surprise crawling across his face. Had he not seen her the whole time? Was he just now realizing he’d been out-flanked? Poor man. She smiled back, then yanked its zipper.
A creature somewhere between a weasel and a python burst from the luggage. It writhed between the book-towers, navigating the odd angles with ease.
Seeing this, the old man stopped motioning with one hand and reached into his pocket, producing a glowing orb. He started to throw it, but the creature was too fast. It launched upwards, its mouth wider than should have been possible, and bit the man’s face. Furry lengths of body wrapped themselves over his shoulders, neck, and arm, restraining his new weapon.
The man’s other hand snatched at the creature, wrapping around its skull. With a squeal, the beast erupted in pink fire. Its tail spasmed, then unwrapped, revealing the man’s bloodied face. His hands raised again, perhaps to strike, but it was too late. The weasel-beast had interrupted his spell, and the air around the pair no longer blistering; Vein had found his breath.
“Be still!” He cried, snapping his fingers. His words fell on Esther’s ears, and her limbs grew heavy. But as always, the feeling quickly fled, and she was able to retain her faculties.
The man, however, wasn’t so lucky. Vein stood in front of him, eye to eye, screaming his deluded brain off. “You think you could stop me? I, Vein, whisperer of souls, have killed you, Servintas!” His dagger plunged into the man’s gut, and his other hand dropped the gun, snapping out to make sure the orb to make sure it didn’t fall.
He wrenched the blade sideways and up in a small arc, then turned his attention to the sphere. He must have released whatever hold he had on Servintas, because the man groaned, and fell to the floor, clutching his abdomen.
Vein’s eyes widened as he observed the sphere, then flashed to Esther. “You, come here.” He snapped again, and the sensation of his will struck, but she stayed still, rooted to the spot. Something told her, despite his influence, not to move.
He let out a snarl and in long, uneven strides, stumbled toward her. He practically stabbed at her with the sphere. “What sort of trickery is this?”
Esther, still frozen on the spot, only had a moment to look before he struck her, but what she saw stunned her.
Etched on the sphere in glistening white lines, was Esther’s face.
Vein made contact, the orb smashing her cheek and jaw.
“This is you!” He withdrew the strange sphere, leaving just enough room to slap her. “Who are you, woman?”
“I- I don’t” she looked to the man the floor, at the blood pooling near his wound. Her head hurt. “I don’t know what’s going on.” She slid to the side, trying to escape. In his rage, he just followed, fury in his eyes.
“Again you lie!” Another hand flew at her face, she tried to stop it, but he was too strong. His blow pushed past her arm, slamming the side of her head. Everything went white and a high-pitched ring screeched in her ears. Esther’s balance left her, and she staggered, her back slamming through a pile of books and into the old man’s couch.
Leaning on it, she tried to catch her momentum. But Vein was relentless. Another attack rocked her sideways, practically lifting her from her feet.
Somehow, her leg managed to slide into Servintas body and stabilize her movement. She put a hand to her ear and felt something warm and wet.
His voice rang out again, muffled this time. She couldn’t make out the words but looked just in time to see his fist fly her way. She tried to step, but Servintas’ body blocked her foot, and she fell backward.
Vein realized too late he’d put too much effort into the swing and tumbled in Esther’s wake. With a tinkle of glass, the sphere rolled from his hand.
He clawed at her leg as she tried to stand, yanking her closer so his free hand could reach her throat, then squeezed. Instantly, Esther’s pulse pounded in her ears. She pulled at his hand, but the grip was too tight. Her vision dimmed, but she caught a small motion to her side. Servintas was making a fist. Good god, was he going to take a swing? It might just be enough to rattle Vein, and maybe she could get free.
He attacked, the attack moved heavy, quick, and heart-wrenchingly off-target, falling short of Vein’s head by inches.
“No,” thought Esther. “This can’t be it.” She tried to yell but had no air left; her mouth just hung open as her will faded.
Crash
A flash of light erupted at her side. She managed to glance over and saw the man’s fist, surrounded by shards of glass; the orb.
The man met her eyes and mouthed. “Wake up, Servintas.”
Her memories returned. Years of study, failure, and eventual mastery of the arcane arts; rage as over and over her attempts to reach those who were too blind to see humanity’s failures ignored her; flame, ice, electricity, and darkness, all at her command; and a warning that an assassin would visit her this night. A foolish assassin, currently choking the daylights out of her.
Esther Conrad Servintas pondered her situation. The trap obviously hadn’t worked as planned. The element of surprise would have been preferable to her current position, but Bartleby, the old coot, had failed. She glared at her apprentice. The fool had almost gotten her killed.
Her vision continued to dim; there wasn’t much time. She summoned her energy, formed the spell in her mind, and spoke, but Vein’s grip was too tight, and the incantation stuck in her throat.
Vein must have sensed something; his eyes flashed between her and Bartleby. “Wait. It- It’s you!” he said his voice still muffled, but she could read his lips well enough.
Fine, if spells weren’t going to work, she’d do this the old fashioned way. She clawed at his eyes, a finger finding purchase between his lids. Vein jerked back, releasing his grip and cupping the injured eye.
The idiot should have committed. What cost was an eye? His loss.
Rubbing her neck, Esther summoned her power again, and croaked “Mutus!”
Vein gagged and a fountain of green foam erupted from his mouth.
“I think I’ve spent enough time with my mind muddled this evening,” said Esther, finding her feet. “Good thing your abilities couldn’t override my enchantment, hmm?”
His eyebrows knit together in a pleading expression, and his hands clawed at his throat.
Only when his eyes rolled back did she release the spell.
He sagged, dribbles of green trickling from his mouth as he gasped. Then, in a last ditch effort, his head whipped up, and he tried to speak. But Esther was too fast, slapping her hand over his mouth. “Shh, poor boy. No more commands from you. How about answers instead.” And then she snapped, twice. “Tell me who sent you.”
Porridge and Biscuits 