Brimstone and Lily (Legacy Stone Adventures) by Terry Kroenung Page B
Authors: Terry Kroenung
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givin’ as good as she gets!
“I accept thy challenge,” she said, almost with a laugh. A gob of foul yellow slobber shot out of her horrible mouth with a steamy hiss and hit Eddie dead in the face. His every muscle seized up and he dropped like a felled tree. Before I could react she’d slithered past me, scooped him up, and bounded onto the Monument’s stairs.
“Thus thy choice,” she said, holding the limp Eddie in one hideous hand like a rag doll. “Present thyself to the Proprietor before the turn of the full moon, if thou desirest ever to see this child alive.”
One enormous foot banged open the enormous iron door behind her. A sick greenish light came from inside the Monument, silhouetting her. Venoma backed up into it. As soon as the swirling radiance touched her, she and her prey vanished.
The light blacked out. So did I.
Eddie was gone.
9/ The Dread Pirate Roberta
I tried to imagine a fierce pirate with a tough-talking parrot for a girlfriend. It gave ‘henpecked’ a whole new slant.
Next thing I knew I lay sprawled face-first on the grass, my throat so raw from screaming that no sound came out. Though I’d thought that my muscles couldn’t have hurt any more than they already did, that turned out to be wrong. From straining to move the whole world to get Eddie back, I’d reduced myself to a giant mass of pain. My hands felt broken from pounding the ground. Dirt filled my fingernails from clawing at it, too. Goo from my nose and eyes ran down my face. A roaring in my ears drowned out everything my friends seemed to be saying to me.
Somebody gripped me from behind in a bear-hug as I tried to stand and rush the Monument. Since a four-inch tall mouse wouldn’t be up to that, I gathered that it was Romulus and not Ernie. And it had to have been a friend, because Jasper made no move to defend me. That didn’t stop me from kicking his shins and biting his fingers.
“Lemme go!” I tried to shriek. It came out as a whisper. “We gotta help him!”
“He gone, chile,” Romulus said with amazing gentleness, as if quieting a panicked horse. “When Venoma gets ‘em, they stays got.”
“I don’t care! We gotta try!”
Ernie cleared his throat and hopped from Romulus’ shoulder to mine. “The ostium’s closed. As soon as they disappeared it shut down. It’s designed to do that, so nobody can follow.”
Curiosity started calming my rage. “Ostium? What’s that?”
“A sort of gate that lets the Honourable Merchantry travel between worlds. No one can use it but those buggers. Step through one and it takes yer where yer wants to be in the blink of an eye.”
I began to breathe a little easier and felt my bunched muscles relax a bit. “Travel between worlds?” Seems like every time I get the answer to one question tonight, three more pop up in its place. “How many worlds can there be?”
Romulus let go of me. I slumped back down to the sun-baked earth, but didn’t let my eye off the Monument door. He said, “The Comp’ny’s magick’s made ev’ry nation into its own world, miss.”
I thought of the odd stories folks told about the Monument, how people in antique clothes would walk out of it. “So if I was to go to, say, the Papal Fief, what would I find?”
Ernie and Romulus traded glances. They seemed to be having some sort of unspoken debate. After a long pause Ernie said, “Fer starters, it ain’t June 1862 there.”
My tired mouth managed to make a pthht sound. “Ain’t polite to tease kids.”
“I only wish I were teasin’, ducky. No matter where yer go there---Rome, Florence, Venice—it’s June of 1508.”
The face I made felt the same as you might see in a lunatic asylum. Just when I’d started to accept that there were magick swords, horrible-toothed monsters, and Bullies in my world, this new thing hit me. “1508? Like Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci 1508?”
“Exactly like that.”
“What about Imperium Sacra? Iberion? Gaulle?”
“1642,
“I accept thy challenge,” she said, almost with a laugh. A gob of foul yellow slobber shot out of her horrible mouth with a steamy hiss and hit Eddie dead in the face. His every muscle seized up and he dropped like a felled tree. Before I could react she’d slithered past me, scooped him up, and bounded onto the Monument’s stairs.
“Thus thy choice,” she said, holding the limp Eddie in one hideous hand like a rag doll. “Present thyself to the Proprietor before the turn of the full moon, if thou desirest ever to see this child alive.”
One enormous foot banged open the enormous iron door behind her. A sick greenish light came from inside the Monument, silhouetting her. Venoma backed up into it. As soon as the swirling radiance touched her, she and her prey vanished.
The light blacked out. So did I.
Eddie was gone.
9/ The Dread Pirate Roberta
I tried to imagine a fierce pirate with a tough-talking parrot for a girlfriend. It gave ‘henpecked’ a whole new slant.
Next thing I knew I lay sprawled face-first on the grass, my throat so raw from screaming that no sound came out. Though I’d thought that my muscles couldn’t have hurt any more than they already did, that turned out to be wrong. From straining to move the whole world to get Eddie back, I’d reduced myself to a giant mass of pain. My hands felt broken from pounding the ground. Dirt filled my fingernails from clawing at it, too. Goo from my nose and eyes ran down my face. A roaring in my ears drowned out everything my friends seemed to be saying to me.
Somebody gripped me from behind in a bear-hug as I tried to stand and rush the Monument. Since a four-inch tall mouse wouldn’t be up to that, I gathered that it was Romulus and not Ernie. And it had to have been a friend, because Jasper made no move to defend me. That didn’t stop me from kicking his shins and biting his fingers.
“Lemme go!” I tried to shriek. It came out as a whisper. “We gotta help him!”
“He gone, chile,” Romulus said with amazing gentleness, as if quieting a panicked horse. “When Venoma gets ‘em, they stays got.”
“I don’t care! We gotta try!”
Ernie cleared his throat and hopped from Romulus’ shoulder to mine. “The ostium’s closed. As soon as they disappeared it shut down. It’s designed to do that, so nobody can follow.”
Curiosity started calming my rage. “Ostium? What’s that?”
“A sort of gate that lets the Honourable Merchantry travel between worlds. No one can use it but those buggers. Step through one and it takes yer where yer wants to be in the blink of an eye.”
I began to breathe a little easier and felt my bunched muscles relax a bit. “Travel between worlds?” Seems like every time I get the answer to one question tonight, three more pop up in its place. “How many worlds can there be?”
Romulus let go of me. I slumped back down to the sun-baked earth, but didn’t let my eye off the Monument door. He said, “The Comp’ny’s magick’s made ev’ry nation into its own world, miss.”
I thought of the odd stories folks told about the Monument, how people in antique clothes would walk out of it. “So if I was to go to, say, the Papal Fief, what would I find?”
Ernie and Romulus traded glances. They seemed to be having some sort of unspoken debate. After a long pause Ernie said, “Fer starters, it ain’t June 1862 there.”
My tired mouth managed to make a pthht sound. “Ain’t polite to tease kids.”
“I only wish I were teasin’, ducky. No matter where yer go there---Rome, Florence, Venice—it’s June of 1508.”
The face I made felt the same as you might see in a lunatic asylum. Just when I’d started to accept that there were magick swords, horrible-toothed monsters, and Bullies in my world, this new thing hit me. “1508? Like Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci 1508?”
“Exactly like that.”
“What about Imperium Sacra? Iberion? Gaulle?”
“1642,
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