The Unnatural Inquirer

Some of the combat sorcerers got past their shock and surprise and charged up their amulets and charms. They fired spells in all directions, and everyone ducked for cover. I looked around for Pen Donavon, just in time to see him diving behind the bar. Best place for him. Then I had to throw myself to one side as an energy bolt seared through the air where I’d been a moment before. It hit the long wooden bar and cracked it from end to end. I winced. I knew I was going to end up paying for that. Betty and Lucy Coltrane were ducking and dodging, avoiding fireballs and transformation spells and conceptual bullets from all directions at once. They were fast on their feet for their size, but they couldn’t protect themselves and press the fight at the same time.

Sparks flew from Alex’s cricket bat as he clubbed his way through the cowboys before him. They blasted him with destructive spells at point-blank range, but the magic Merlin had built into the bat reflected the spells right back at their source. As a result, lightning bolts flashed back and forth across the bar, bouncing off magical shields and doing extensive damage to the bar’s fixtures and fittings. Magical bullets ricocheted, punching holes in the walls and ceiling. And two rather surprised-looking toads blinked at each other from piles of cowboy clothes before reappearing as themselves again.

Meanwhile, I had my own problem. Ace was getting up again. I picked up a handy chair and hit him over the head with it. I’m a great one for tradition. But the chair didn’t break, and Ace didn’t go down. So much for Hollywood. I dropped the chair and looked around for something else to hit him with. Preferably something with big jaggedy edges. I saw one of the combat sorcerers grab Bettie by the arm and pull her to him. I think he intended to use her as a human shield, or as a way to get to me. He really should have known better. He pointed his shimmering gun at her, and she smiled dazzlingly at him. He hesitated, and was lost. He stood where he was, unmoving, fascinated. Bettie’s mother was a lust demon, and had passed on some of her deadly glamour to her daughter. Bettie held the cowboy’s eyes with hers, fished in her bag, brought out her Mace, and let him have it. He fell to the floor, writhing and howling, and clawing at his eyes with both hands.

And to think I’d been a bit worried that she might not fit in with my friends.

While I was distracted, Ace hit me with a transformation spell. I cried out in shock as the spell crawled all over me, cramping my muscles and coursing through my neural system. Pain bent me in two, and sweat dripped from my face. I could feel my skin stretching and distorting, trying to find a new shape. Discharging energies spat and crackled around me, but for all its power, the spell couldn’t find a foothold in me. Slowly, I straightened up again, fighting back the effects of the spell, throwing it off through sheer force of will. I smiled slowly at Ace, a cold and nasty death’s-head grin, and he fell back a pace as the last of his spell fell away from me, defeated.

“So,” he said harshly. “It’s true. You’re not human. That spell would have worked on any man.”

“A man might have shown you mercy,” I said. “But we’re beyond that now.”

He thrust his conceptual gun in my face. I grabbed his pointing finger and broke it. And while he was distracted by the pain, I reached automatically for my gift, to find some weakness in his defences…and it was there, just waiting to be used. I didn’t waste any time wondering why. I simply fired up my gift, reached out with my mind, and found the operating spells controlling the combat sorcerers’ magical items. And then it was the easiest thing in the world to tear away all the items’ controls and restraints and let the amulets and charms and fetishes release all their power at once.

I could have fixed it so they would discharge harmlessly, but I didn’t feel like being merciful.

The magical items exploded like grenades, blowing their owners apart. Thirteen cowboys cried out in shock and pain and horror as their power sources punched holes through their chests, tore off their arms, or blew their heads apart. It was all over in a few moments, and then there were thirteen dead combat sorcerers lying on the bar-room floor, in slowly spreading pools of blood and gore. Alex lowered his glowing cricket bat, breathing hard. Betty and Lucy Coltrane looked around, kicked the bodies nearest them just in case, and then high-fived each other.

Bettie Divine looked at me, shock and horror in her face.

“John; what have you done?”

“He said Kill them all.”

“That doesn’t mean you had to kill all of them!”

“Yes it did,” I said. “I have a reputation to maintain.”

“What?”

“They threatened me, and my friends, and they killed a poor drunk sorcerer. They broke my first rule. Thou shalt not mess with me and mine. I just sent a message to Kid Cthulhu and all his kind.”

“You killed thirteen men to make a point?” Bettie was staring at me as though she’d never seen me before, and perhaps she hadn’t. Not this me.

“They would have killed you,” I said.

“Yes. They would have. But you’re supposed to be better than that.”

“I am,” I said. “Sometimes.”

She wasn’t even looking at me any more. She knelt beside what was left of the man called Ace. He’d carried three magical charms, and they’d torn him apart as they detonated. The amulet had blown his hand right off his wrist. His head was still pretty much intact. He looked more surprised than anything. Bettie cupped his face with one hand.

“We were close, once. When we were both a lot younger. He wasn’t always like this. We had dreams, of all the wonderful things we were going to do. And I became a reporter for a tabloid, and he ended up as a cowboy. He wasn’t bad, not when I knew him. He liked silly comedies, and happy endings, and he held me on bad days and told me he believed in me. And yes, I know, he would have killed me if you hadn’t stopped me. That doesn’t change anything.”

“Did you love him?” I said.

“Of course I loved him. The man he was then. But I don’t think he’d been that man for some time.” She stared down at the dead face, into his staring eyes. She tried to close the eyelids, but they wouldn’t stay closed. Bettie made a sound, and sat back on her heels. “I thought I’d be stronger than this. Harder, more cynical. The things I’ve seen, and done…the death of someone who used to be a friend, long ago, shouldn’t affect me like this. I didn’t think I could still hurt like this.”

“You get used to it,” I said. And immediately knew it was the wrong thing to say. “Bettie, you’ve got nothing to feel bad about. This is all down to me.”

“Yes,” she said. “It is.”

She got up, all calm and composed again, and walked straight past me to the bar. She picked up her drink and took a dainty sip. She didn’t look at me once. And I knew she’d never look at me the same way again, after seeing what I could do, what I would do, when pushed to the wall.

I will always do whatever is necessary, to protect my friends, whether they approve or not.

Alex helped Betty and Lucy Coltrane loot the bodies of anything worth the having, and then directed them to haul the bodies out back and dump them in the alley outside. Where the Nightside’s various scavengers would quickly dispose of them. There’s not a lot of room for sentiment in the Nightside. I would have helped, but I was busy thinking. Why had control of my gift been returned to me, after being blocked twice already? Presumably, whoever had been interfering with my gift just didn’t need to any more. Because they were watching over me and knew I’d located Pen Donavon.

Still musing, I wandered back to the bar. Alex had finally persuaded Donavon to come out from behind it, and he was emerging slowly, bit by bit, staring with horrified eyes at all the carnage and destruction.