A Girl's Guide to Guns and Monsters (20 page)

“Those are dice,” I said absently. I’d found the box I was looking for.

I had to work at the duct tape, and then gave up, tearing the cardboard off the top, just enough so I could look inside. Just as I expected, it was filled to the brim with . . . worlds.

Adventures, campaigns, epic quests, and short side distractions designed to strip a character of gold, money and magic. My throat closed at the sight of three-ring binders, folders, and plastic envelopes.

I reached in and dug past those things to find my source books. I knew full well that I had kept some of those, unable to bear the idea that someone else would use them.

“Kate, what is this?”

Wan was peering at me from the handhold, his paws extended into the light. He was holding a small metal figurine.

My breath caught in my throat at the sight.

Her plate was still as shiny silver as the day I had painted her. Her long blonde hair trailed out behind her, a few strands covering her face. Those had been a bitch to paint. Her eyes were wide, her mouth turned up in an open-faced smile as she lifted her halberd to strike. Pole-arms were highly underrated as weapons. Useful from the second rank, giving me an extended reach over the meatshields in front. “No helmet, Katling,” Gerald used to tease, his blue eyes—

I swallowed hard, then forced the words out. “Put it back, Wan.”

His paws pulled the figurine back into the box. “Very well,” he said, his voice muffled as he turned away. “But there are many more, and they are well painted. This other one has lost its sword, but still—”

“Wan,” was all I could get out.

His face appeared from the depths of the box, his gaze steady as he considered my face. “My apologies, Kate.”

“I found it,” I blinked quickly as I pulled the book from the box.

Wan crawled out of the box. I reached out a hand absently and he crawled up my arm to my shoulder. He peered over at the book in my hands.
“Legends and Lore?”
he asked doubtfully. “Gaming materials?”

“Sure,” I opened the book and rifled the pages. “Here we go, ‘Chinese Mythology.’ ”

Wan stiffened.

“Er . . .” I quickly turned the pages. “Look, here is a summary of the history and an explanation of a some new spells . . .” This wasn’t going the way I had planned. Especially when the next few pages listed stats and hit dice for the various avatars.

Wan crossed his paws over his chest and gave me a flat look. “And where are the combat statistics for Holy Mary, Mother of God?”

I closed the book, and shoved it back into the box. “Okay, bad idea.”

“Perhaps instead we could use original source materials,” Wan said firmly. “I have many scrolls and—”

I stood up and reached for one of the beams as I headed to the stairs. “Hey, Wan. Remember what I told you about Wikipedia?”

 

I’d forgotten that we hadn’t cleaned up the office.

Wan’s small library, which sat on the top of my computer hutch, was a mess. His tiny white scrolls, tied with red ribbons were scattered about the teak floor. Wan jumped from my shoulder to the hutch, placed his sword on its rack, and started to pick them up, using paws and tail. The whole prehensile thing still freaked me out, but in comparison to evil possums, it didn’t rate a second glance.

I sighed and looked at my computer. I’d used my ergonomic keyboard to whack at the rats and it cracked right in half. I might have an old one in the closet, but my wrists would let me know fast if I used it for any length of time. Lovely. I’d have to order a new one. I dug out the info as Wan was muttering curses to himself. I snorted as I dialed, resigning myself to dealing with New Delhi and an hour on hold.

I got American English. I almost dropped the phone.

“Oh no, ma’am.” The clear voice chirped. “Your keyboard is covered completely by the warranty. I’ll have a new one overnighted to you immediately.”

“What’s that cost?”

“No cost, ma’am. Part of the service on your account. Has your address changed?”

“No-no . . .”

“You will receive it by early morning delivery tomorrow. Anything else I can help you with, ma’am?”

I stared at the dial tone coming out of the handset.

There was a soft cough, and I looked up to see Wan facing me, a scroll in his hands.

“Wan, the strangest thing . . .”

“What is needed will be provided, Wise One.” Wan’s eyes were gleaming with excitement.

“Really?” I thought about that for a moment. “Because I really need to lose weight.”

Wan sighed. “What is needed, Kate. There is a difference between needs and desires.” Wan held up the scroll, letting it unroll to dangle before me. “As K’ung Fu-tzu says—”

I squinted at the scroll. “That’s Lao Tzu, not Confucius.”

Wan smiled. “You are certain?”

“Wan,” I growled. “It’s the Tao Te Ching, Chapter 1. ‘The way that can be spoken of is not the constant way.’ ” I rolled my eyes. “Which is not particularly helpful, if you ask me.”

Wan rolled up the scroll looking rather smug.

“Wait,” I considered my self-satisfied little scholarly friend. “I didn’t think you wrote in English.”

“I do not,” Wan said, turning to replace the scroll. “It would appear that you can now read the original source materials.”

Oh, hell. His miniature library was stuffed to the gills with those tiny scrolls. “Wan, I am not reading—”

“Oh, but you are.” Wan said over his shoulder. “The more you read and learn, the less your adversary will know.”

Crap.

Itty came into the room, yawning and stretching. Bitty was right behind her, making the familiar whining sound. I reached down to pet them both. “Need to go out, my babies?”

They both barked, and raced for the living room.

“Wait for me, Kate.” Wan picked up his sword and slung it over his shoulder, then leapt for mine.

“The doctor warded the backyard, Wan.” But I waited until he was on my shoulder until I headed for the great room.

“Still, we should have a care,” Wan said. “Once the foe knows that you have taken on the role of Wise One, their anger will be a thousandfold.”

I slid open the glass door and the dogs raced out ahead of us. The day had been a nice one, but the clouds had gathered now, dark and heavy, and the breeze was picking up. I grabbed up the koi food, and moved to the side of the pond to feed them. “They still want the necklace.”

“Their goals will have changed.” Wan was scanning the sky. “Now they will want to—”

The dogs howled.

I jerked my head around to see them at the fence, pawing and clawing, trying to get at a possum sitting on the post. Not any old possum, either. This one was sitting there, holding its walking stick, glaring at them. Old Ugly-Stinky, who had tried to kill me in my own kitchen.

It raised its head and stared at me.

I don’t know how it knew. I don’t know how I knew it knew, since the possum’s face didn’t really change all that much. His teeth were already bared and he was hissing like a cobra. Except now, the hatred in its eyes was palpable. I took a step back, but didn’t let my gaze drop.

The possum’s nose wrinkled up even more, and it reached out with its staff. There was a flash, and he pulled it back, its tip charred and smoldering.

“The wards,” Wan said. “Still . . . call the dogs, Kate. We need to get back into the house.”

“Itty, Bitty,” I called out, shivering as the wind picked up. I called again sharply, but both my babies were two intent on their target to pay much attention. I whistled. Itty turned and ran a few steps toward me, but when Bitty didn’t follow, Itty tore back for her fair share of the barking.

“Fool dogs,” I muttered, starting toward them.

“No, Kate.” Wan pulled his sword from its sheath. “Go no closer.”

Now, Wan is an impressive fighter, but the whole two-inch-high-defender thing made it just a little embarrassing. “The wards will hold.”

The possum lifted its stick, and started chanting in a voice like fingernails on a chalkboard. The dogs whined and backed off, looking at me, then up at the animal in confusion.

“Itty. Bitty. Right here, right now,” I commanded, and they came tearing over to me. They whined at my feet for a moment, circling around, begging to be petted.

“Come on, my babies.” I bent to pet them.

Wan grabbed at my shirt collar. He was eyeing the possum, who was starting to get louder and shriller, if that was possible. “Inside, Kate. Hurry.”

“Okay,” I stood, taking a last look at the sky. The clouds were getting thicker and darker fast. The wind was picking up and . . .

The possum cried out in its horrible shrill voice and thunder boomed through my bones. The dogs yelped and ran for the house. I cringed, then looked up. There’d been no lightning, what was—

He was floating over the fence, his arms outstretched as if poised for flight.

His long blond hair floated around his head like a cloud. His armor was black and gold. His face was angled and mysterious, with a scar that ran over one eye and down his cheek, and his eyes . . . his dark eyes burned like fire over my skin.

Pure desire lanced through me, the warmth flooding between my legs and surging up into my chest. My knees wobbled, and went weak. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t hear anything but the pounding of my heart.

One corner of his mouth quirked up, and he reached out his hand. I watched as those warm supple lips started to form my name. He wanted me, desired me, and my skin rippled, anticipating his touch. My nipples tightened, as if his fingers were already—

Pain—something cut into my ear. Something yammering in my ear, making frantic noises. I reached up and brushed it away. It didn’t matter, nothing mattered except lying skin to skin with my lover. I took a step, and then another, reaching up to unzip my sweatshirt, tear off my clothes and—

Something sliced into my ankle.

I stumbled, looking down to see blood pouring from a cut. Wan was standing next to my foot, his sword in one hand, its pommel hanging open. He had something in his other hand, and when his gaze caught mine, he screamed against the rising wind, and threw it at me.

It arched up . . . something small, that grew larger as it rose up higher, something white . . . no . . . mother-of-pearl. I reached out and caught the medallion, letting the necklace warp around my wrist.

It felt like a bucket of ice water had been thrown in my face.

The man was now a corpse, floating in midair, grinning at me with horrible teeth, holding out its decaying hand, gesturing.

Desire went to revulsion in two seconds flat. I fell to the ground and heaved up everything in my stomach. Let me tell you . . . Michigan Cherry’s not so good the second time around.

“Up, Kate. Up, and in the house.” Wan was in the grass, keeping well back from the splatter. “Hurry.”

“Wan,” I gasped, trying to clear my mouth. “What is that thing?”

“Now you want lessons?” Wan asked. His sword was in his hand, the pommel closed. “Move! I will hold them off!”

The back yard exploded with light. That thing . . . it was pounding on the wards, trying to break through them. Light and smoke flared again and again. The possum, still perched on its fencepost, cried out in its shrill nasty voice. “Aid us!”

All around, ninja rats climbed up the posts and started to beat on the wards as well.

The dogs were frantic now, racing back to defend me as I scrabbled to my feet, the necklace still wrapped around my hand. They ran just passed me, and took a stance, barking and farting for all they were worth.

I staggered up, trying to look everywhere at once. Dr. McDougall had planned the wards for ninja rats, not corpses. I didn’t think—

The possum shrieked something and gestured with its free hand. The ninja rats all started to glow . . . and became man-sized.

Time to go.

I started moving back, unwilling to turn my back. The dogs ran behind me, then in front, barking madly.

Wan retreated as well, focused on the corpse, waving his tiny sword back and forth as if in challenge.

The corpse paused for a moment, as the others continued their assault. Its dead eyes raked over me and it smiled.
“Kaaaaaate.”

My stomach heaved. I retched a bit, but kept moving back toward the house. I wanted walls between me and that thing.

The corpse laughed, as if it knew my fear. From nowhere it pulled an odd hooked sword with a flourish. The blade glowed green. That couldn’t be good.

The corpse gripped the blade with both hands and brought it down with a scream. The edge sheared through the golden glow. The ward popped like a bubble.

The ninja rats flowed up and over the fence like a tide.

The dogs yelped and ran for the house again.

“Kate,” Wan screamed over his shoulder. “Put it on. PUT THE NECKLACE ON.”

I looked at my hand.

The necklace was full size now, no longer hidden from the world in the pommel of Wan’s sword. The large pieces of cut jade were linked with golden strands, and the medallion hung down, glimmering softly in the light. I lifted it with both hands, and slipped it over my head. Somewhere, someone or something shrieked in anger as it settled on my skin.

Time seemed to stop. The ninja rats were still coming, but slowly, all
Matrix-y
. Sort of a
Flying Mouse, Hidden Possum
kinda thing.

But even as I watched time slow, I was focused on the necklace. I’d been right. The jade pieces felt cool against my skin, but they warmed quickly, taking heat from my body. The medallion fell right between my breasts, as if designed to lie there and cover my beating heart.

“What do you need?” It wasn’t a voice, it was just a question that formed in my being, a feeling of support, of strength. “What do you need?”