A Girl's Guide to Guns and Monsters (19 page)

The damages in the house from the epic battle between us and the ninja rats weren’t really obvious. The broken glass had been swept away, the blood mopped up. I’d put the toilet brush back into its holder in the bathroom. But I still didn’t have a clue as to what the hell was going on, and Wan, who may or may not be the “Lord of Ten Thousand Years,” had better provide some answers and soon.

But first, I had to get rid of the bikers.

It took the rest of my precious stash of coffee to get them on their way. I told them where I bought the coffee at a place up in Dundee. They gave me the name and phone number of the impounded lot where my van was. Tiny winked at me, and slipped me his cell number as he walked out the door.

Oh yeah. That was happening.

I closed the door firmly and leaned my forehead against it, listening to the rumble of their hogs as they pulled away.

“We must talk, Kate.” Wan wiggled out from under my collar to stand on my shoulder. He stood upright, his tail whipping back and forth. His sword was on his back, the bright red tassel hanging from the pommel. “There is much you need to know.”

“Oh sure,” I snapped, as I turned back toward the kitchen. “Now you want to talk. Now, after we’ve fought off possums and ninja rats and wrecked my van, damn it.” I started to gather up the coffee mugs and load them into the dishwasher.

“The Honorable Doctor McDougall—”

“Do we know he is honorable?” I growled.

“—has warded this house,” Wan said, easily balancing as I moved back and forth. “We cannot be complacent and assume that those forces allied against us will—”

“And what forces might those be, Wan?” I stopped abruptly.

“Kate,” Wan’s voice was soft. I could see him out of the corner of my eye, and for a moment I could swear that he was looking at me with pity in those small black eyes. “Perhaps we should sit, Honorable Lady.”

I sighed. “All right.” I dumped soap into the machine and got it started. The familiar sound of water was comforting in an odd way.

I went to the living room and plopped down on the sofa. Itty and Bitty ran for their usual spots, each on one side of me. They jumped up, circled around, and then settled down for a nap.

Wan leapt for the coffee table, standing on a pile of magazines next to the remote.

“Okay,” I said, sagging into the cushions. “Explain.”

“Let me begin by asking you—what do you know of the history of the Middle Kingdom?” Wan asked.

“China?” I tilted my head back and closed my eyes. “Well, let’s see. There’s the Ming Dynasty and the Han Dynasty. The last empress, the Opium Wars. Lao Tzu, Confucius, Mao Zedung, and Ho Chi Minh . . . no, wait, I think he is Vietnamese.” I opened my eyes. “That’s about it.”

Wan was frozen in horror, his mouth gaping open.

“Er . . .” I thought about it a minute. “General Tso’s? Dim sum? Moo shu? There was that Disney movie . . . what was the girl’s name?”

Wan put a paw over his eyes. “The level of your ignorance is appalling.”

“Oh, excuse me,” I said.

“What of its religion?” Wan asked, keeping his paw over his eyes.

“Mythology?” I asked.

Wan dropped his paw and glared at me. “Shall we offer comparisons with Christian mythology?”

Eeep. “Point taken,” I felt guilty. “Wan, I’m sorry, but—”

“What happened when you touched the talisman?” Wan was staring at me intently. “Tell me, Kate.”

My mouth opened, but the words wouldn’t come. How could I explain?

I’d seen enough to know a dragon. No wings, just a fierce, lovely face and huge teeth and claws. A museum print come to life, the only source of color in the white billowing clouds
.

My throat closed at the memory, lovely and fearful at the same time. “I saw—”

“A dragon,” Wan said.

“Yes,” I licked my lips. “Wan, what . . . who . . .”

“Kate,” Wan placed his palms together and bowed his head to me. “You are the Wise One, Bearer of the Scale, chosen of the Emperor Dragon, Lord of the Dragon Kings, Ruler of the Weather, and the Waters of the World.”

I stared at the small talking mouse on my coffee table for one solemn moment, and then reality came crashing in. “Bullshit.”

Wan jerked his head up. “Wha—”

“That is the biggest load of crap I’ve ever heard,” I started to struggle up out of the sofa cushions. The dogs opened their eyes for a moment, then returned to their naps. “Of all the stupid—” I glared at him as I fought free of the cushions. “How stupid do you think I am?”

“Kate,” Wan looked up as I towered over him. “Kate, please—”

“Bullshit,” I snarled. “Tell me again how the Emperor Dragon has chosen a fat, middle-aged woman from Toledo, Ohio. Go ahead, I dare you.”

“Our enemies have sought me over the centuries to gain control of the jade necklace that bears the talisman of the Wise One,” Wan replied. “But once you touched the talisman, you became the target. They will now wish to kill you, Kate. I have placed you in grave jeopardy. Doctor McDougall knows this. He will return, hopefully bringing his colleagues wise in the ways of magic, to protect you.”

It had been a mistake. The doctor had demanded to know why they were attacking us, and Wan showed us the necklace concealed in the hilt of his sword. It had been so tiny, and so lovely. Heavy pieces of jade, with an odd-looking circular medallion that had looked like mother-of-pearl, with all the colors reflecting in the light . . . I had reached out, just barely brushing it with my fingertips. . . .

I closed my eyes, and for a moment I could feel the jade on my skin, heavy and cool on my shoulder-blades . . .

I shook myself from the vision and opened my eyes. Wan was staring up at me, a satisfied look on his face. “It calls to you, does it not?”

“Wan, that is ridiculous.” I rolled my eyes and threw my hands in the air. “That’s as crazy as—”

“Talking to a mouse,” he snapped.

I glared at him, and ran my fingers through my hair. “I need to pee.”

Wan crossed his arms over his chest. I could feel his tiny glare on my back as I walked away.

I sat for a bit after my business and stared at the floor of my Green Bay Packer themed bathroom without really seeing the yellow and green of the bathmat. Magical necklaces . . . ninja rats.

And what about McDougall? He’d stitched up my hand in ER and then rescued us, throwing lightning around, his stethoscope still around his neck. Those sharp grey eyes, warning me from leaving the protection of his wards. Where did he fit in all this?

This was nuts. Well and truly unbelievable. Wise One, chosen by the Elemental Forces. It was just crazy.

But then again, so was the idea of a talking mouse.

I rolled my eyes, sighed, and went to wash my hands. I needed to know more. I needed to listen to the talking mouse. To Wan. Without throwing up my hands and exclaiming my disbelief. It was far too late for that. I’d passed the intersection of Crazy and Sane a long time ago, and I’d turned down Crazy Street the minute I had rescued Wan from my koi pond. There was no turning back now.

I looked up at the mirror and sighed. Why did “wise” always seem to really mean old and wrinkled? I thought adventures happened to the young, the lovely, the pure of heart?

But in that instant, when the dragon had looked at me—at me, as is, as I was—

That joy . . . that happiness. I hadn’t felt anything like that in years.

I took a deep breath, straightened my shoulders, and threw open the bathroom door.

 

“There is much you will need to learn,” Wan said as he paced back and forth on the dining room table. “But we will start with the very beginning.”

“A very good place to start,” I warbled, back on the sofa with the two dogs at my side.

Wan gave me a puzzled look.

Heh. Score one for popular culture. “The necklace?” I prompted.

“No, Kate.” Wan shook his head. “The very beginning. Of the world.”

“Oh. Of course.” I tried to keep an interested look on my face, but inside I groaned. The whole thing? He was going to tell me the whole thing?

“To begin, I will provide you with an overview of the major dynasties.” Wan started pacing, and his voice took on the same droning tone of some of my old professors at UT. “Now, in your modern time scale, the Hsia Dynasty was formed in 2000 BCE—”

Crap. My brain twisted in my skull. Four thousand years? He was going back four thousand years?

“Arising along the banks of the Yellow River. Founded by Yu the Great, who—”

If this were a marital arts film, there’d be an attack about now. I glanced over at the sliding door to see if, by chance, there were any ninja rats in the backyard.

No such luck.

“Yu was a feared and cruel Emperor, who bound the petty warring states—” Wan was pacing, his tail in his paws as he moved, intent on his words.

I ever-so-casually moved my hand and poked Itty’s butt. With any luck, my little dog would wake up and need to go outside.

Itty yawned, and rolled on her side to show her tummy. She never even opened her eyes.

I scratched her belly, and slumped into the cushions. Doomed . . . I was doomed. My eyes started to roll back into my head. Doomed . . .

“The next dynasty arose in 1523 BCE. Scholars differ as to whether it should be known as the Shang or Yin Dynasty. My studies have led me to theorize that—”

I stifled a yawn, and looked out the sliding glass door again. Maybe McDougall would appear again to rescue me from this horrible fate. He was damned good looking, with those sharp grey eyes. Those grey eyes that—

“Kate!”

I jerked my eyes open.

Wan was glaring at me, his little paws on his narrow hips.

“Wan, I—” Desperation born of pure boredom forced me to speak. “I might have some books in the attic.”

 

The attic stairs creaked as I pulled the chain, lowering gently to the floor. Wan was on my shoulder as I set my foot on the first step.

I’d always loved fantasy from the moment I learned to read. Magic, swords, dragons . . . I read every book I could get my hands on, and when that wasn’t enough, I made up stories in my head. I discovered gaming in college . . . role-playing games that let me be the characters I’d dreamed of. I never looked back. Computers, LARPS, MUUDS, SCA . . . my life and friends revolved around those wonderful imaginary worlds.

Then I tried to write my stories to share with the world. And all my wide-eyed innocent hopes had been shredded, one after the other. Until the 53rd rejection letter, when I’d woken up to reality. Seen the truth in all its sweaty, hopeless, ugliness.

So I’d walked away from old friends, and quit all my gaming groups. I’d left SCA and closed my online accounts. I’d cleaned out my bookshelves and donated everything fantastical to the library. I’d wiped my hard drive, expunging my folly with the press of a key, reformatting my life and goals with a stroke. I’d taken my rejections, my manuscripts, my characters, my worlds, and stuffed them in a few boxes in the attic.

I didn’t want to climb those stairs, didn’t want to open those boxes. Too much damn pain, too much failure contained within. I didn’t want to do this.

But I didn’t want to listen to the entire history of China, either.

The attic was unfinished, so I’d have to watch my step. I pulled the chain on the light and looked around. The beams made it hard to stand upright, and I reached for one to balance myself. The wood felt rough and dry under my fingers. I breathed in dust and disuse and tried to remember the last time I’d been up here.

“Which boxes, Kate?” Wan asked, his nose twitching.

“Over there,” I said, moving carefully on the plywood. “In that corner.”

They were piled in one corner, isolated from the boxes of Christmas ornaments and college memories. Sealed with duct tape, with my shaky handwriting on the sides in black permanent marker. The lettering was hard to read, but then I’d been crying at the time. Sobbing my eyes out, to be exact.

I reminded myself to breathe and kept moving.

Wan bounded down from my shoulder, his sword slung over his shoulder, red tassel dancing from the pommel. “What is in this one?” He asked, scrambling through the opening that served as a handhold.

“Hell if I know,” I grumbled, my stomach knotting. Probably from drinking too damn much coffee. I started moving the boxes, looking at the sides. “There should be one that says ‘gamemaster’ on the side.”

I could hear him rummaging around, talking as he did so. “There are gemstones in here, Kate. With numbers on them.” His voice was muffled, but I could hear his excitement.