Chapter 23. Presents

  There was barely any spare room to pace inside the Giant’s Bag, filled as it was with laboratory equipment, but Jeremiah made do with shuffling back and forth until Delilah ordered him to stop. She worked with her back to him, hunching over her tiny patient and effectively blocking Jeremiah’s view. He tried to distract himself by identifying the plentiful solutions and chemicals lining the shelves. It wasn’t very effective.

  Time passed. Jeremiah wished he could at least make himself useful as an assistant, but Delilah moved too quickly for him to be anything but a hindrance. As the adrenaline wore off, the pain from the beating returned, and Jeremiah started to tremble. When he rubbed his arms and realized again that he was nearly naked, he decided to wait for Gus and Delilah outside the bag.

  Some new clothes helped somewhat with the shivering. Bruno and Allison still weren’t back, so Jeremiah commenced pacing around the tiny apartment while he waited. It already felt so foreign to him, this warm and comfortable place he’d lived with his friends, the fresh clothing that didn’t stink of fish. He missed it.

  Delilah finally emerged from the bag, cradling Gus in her hands. “He’s going to be okay! I think. I’m not an expert on toads.”

  A wave of relief and exhaustion washed over Jeremiah at her words. He sank to the floor right where he was. “Oh, thank the Gods.”

  “You’re welcome,” said Delilah. She knelt to place Gus gently in Jeremiah’s lap. “He suffered extensive damage to his right hind leg. I’ve set and splinted it as well as I could, but he may have some difficulty hopping.” She smiled as Gus nuzzled Jeremiah’s hand. “He’s a very very tough little animal.”

  “Delilah,” said Jeremiah, looking at her square with his good eye. “Thank you so much. Seriously. I can never repay you for this.”

  Delilah’s eyes widened in shock as she took in Jeremiah’s appearance. “I’m just glad you got him here as soon as you did, things could have turned out much differently if you hadn’t. Now let’s take a look at you.”

  With Gus out of immediate danger, Jeremiah became aware of the pain harbored in his own body. Gentle as she was, everywhere Delilah touched seemed to highlight a new injury. “Ribs are broken, collar bone too. Damage to the jaw and teeth, orbital bone is…” she prodded, eliciting a cry from Jeremiah, “bruised but intact. Hematoma of the liver, spleen, kidneys. Follow my finger with your good eye…good. Ears are clear of spinal fluid, good. Somebody really did a number on you.”

  Jeremiah let his eyes close as she examined him, trying to keep his whimpers to a minimum. Gus was safe, and that was all that mattered.

  “You’ll need a speed healing tonic,” Delilah continued. “I’ll calculate a dose for Gus too. Go on, go lie down.”

  Jeremiah settled on his bed. Even with the unpleasantness of the healing tonic, he was looking forward to some real sleep in a real bed. Here, nobody would hassle him. He didn’t have to jump at shadows, huddle under refuse for warmth, or worry about if the weather would turn.

  “Here, I’ll need to monitor you and run a few tests while you’re healing. I need to make sure everything is settling back where it should,” said Delilah.

  He took the tonic she offered him and threw it back in a single gulp. At once, the alchemical fire began its steady march throughout his body.

  Delilah tucked Gus’s water bowl on the floor beside Jeremiah’s head. The last thing he saw before the fever and exhaustion overcame him was his beloved familiar, sleeping peacefully at last.

  Jeremiah awoke to even worse pain than he went to sleep with. His arms and legs were being restrained by two heavy weights, and Delilah was sitting on his chest with a delicate needle poised toward one of his eyes. The vision was milky and strange, like he could only half see her.

  “Jay, I need to cut your eye back open so I can stitch it shut right. Otherwise it’s going to heal wrong and you’re going to lose the eye. I can’t give you anesthetic while you’re on the healing serum cause you’ll die. It’s going to be a bit uncomfortable, you’re going to feel a bit of pressure,” said Delilah in a very calm, professional voice.

  “You’re going to be okay,” said Allison in a soft, nurturing tone, “one more drop of pain in the vast ocean of life.” She was wrapped around Jeremiah’s legs, holding them tightly together and putting all of her weight on them.

  “Embrace the suck buddy,” said Bruno, “this counts as your first tattoo.” Bruno was underneath and behind Jeremiah, holding his arms tightly behind his back.

  Calm and collected, Delilah pressed a small cloth sack against the wall next to the bed. Something burst inside and it began to emit bright light.

  Jeremiah, feverish and addled, finally realized what was about to happen as Delilah leaned down with the tiny needle in one hand.

  “N-no!” he shouted, flexing every muscle he could to try and escape, but he was weak. Bruno and Allison had no problem holding him completely fast.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay,” said Delilah. She placed one hand on his head and forced it back, forcing the eyelid into an open state. “Just a little pinch, we’ll be done before you know it. It’ll be faster and easier if you just hold still.”

  Jeremiah had never known how strong Delilah’s hands were, but now he could feel the unexpected power in the pressure she exerted on him. His eye was forced open, the lid quivering in its struggle to close, his eye already pulsing with pain was now drying out as well.

  The needle came closer, growing larger and larger.

  “Look to your right,” said Delilah.

  “Get off me!” Jeremiah screamed.

  “I don’t need you to look to your right, but this will be faster and less painful if you do. Look to your right.” The needle weaved and bobbed, tracking some selected point for its first penetration. “You can scream, you can yell, you can call me any horrible thing you want, but look to your right, up at the glowbag please.”

  “This is your fault!” Jeremiah shouted at her, and he looked to the right.

  “There we go, good job Jay, you’re okay,” said Delilah. The needle got closer, then disappeared from view.

  Jeremiah spasmed in pain as something gently scratched his eye, then pressed, then something gave. Jeremiah could feel hot liquid running down his cheek. He kept his good eye on the glowing bag.

  Jeremiah screamed, loud and high. He cursed Delilah, he called her every name and hurtful insult he could think of as she deftly worked a whisper thick thread into his eyeball.

  “I’m gonna throw up, I’m gonna throw up,” Bruno kept saying over and over again, gagging at every thread pull.

  “Kick as hard as you can Jay,” said Allison, “Come on, struggle!” They encouraged him to do anything he wanted, anything he could, to distract himself.

  Jeremiah was, for a moment, back beneath Cutter. Helpless, powerless, and in incredible pain.

  It went on for an eternity, intolerable and unending.

  And then it lessened.

  “Just a little cold,” said Delilah, and a cold liquid was squirted against Jeremiah’s eye.

  “You need to not touch your eye,” said Delilah, “If you do you’ll open your suture and we get to do this again.”

  Delilah’s hand finally left Jeremiah’s face, allowing him to close his eye at last. He could feel something on it, just behind the eyelid, something he wasn’t allowed to touch or rub.

  Allison slowly let go of his legs, then backed away. Bruno whispered to Jeremiah, “I’m gonna let go okay? Take it easy.”

  Jeremiah was released and lay on the bed, feverish and exhausted. From the pounding headache, to the weakness, to pain in his eye and on every part of his body, he felt like he’d never be able to rest again. But in time the exhaustion took him, and he slipped back into a throbbing painful rest.

  Jeremiah awoke feeling like he’d been run over by a carriage. It was late morning, judging by the sun, and he could hear the voices of his friends from the other room.

  He bounded out of bed and regretted it immediately. His ribs ached, his guts burned, and his head pounded. Gus was still fast asleep in the water bowl. “Keep resting, buddy,” Jeremiah said, and made his way more carefully out of the room.

  “He lives!” said Bruno, as Jeremiah shuffled into the main room. “Despite his best efforts, far as I can tell.”

  “Hey Bruno,” said Jeremiah, lowering himself into a chair. There was a pot of something waiting in the hot embers of the fireplace that he was eager to investigate. “New look, Al?”

  Allison was clad in city guard armor. Her unruly hair had been tightly braided across her scalp. She grinned, and gingerly touched her hair. “Hurts like hell, but I kind of love how it looks.”

  Delilah gave Jeremiah another quick exam. “Wiggle your jaw? Good. Open?” She peered inside his mouth. “Ah. Hold still.”

  Before he could ask, she reached into his mouth and yanked out a molar, root and all. The extraction was accompanied by only a quick sting of pain.

  Bruno recoiled. “ Really? Right here at the table?”

  “Only one, not bad,” said Delilah. “I’ll give you something to keep it from getting infected. How are you feeling? What hurts?”

  “Everything,” said Jeremiah impatiently. “Can I eat now?”

  Allison set a bowl of stew before him. “It’s hot, eat it slow—oh, or just drink the whole bowl, that’s fine too.”

  Jeremiah reveled in the feeling of the food hitting his stomach. It was hot, rich, and salty. “More.” Then after a moment’s consideration, “Please.”

  “Nope, you’ll have to wait a few hours first,” said Delilah. “It’s a special recipe for people who’ve suffered malnutrition, but you can’t eat too much at once.”

  “While you’re waiting, you should open your presents,” said Allison.

  “Huh?” Jeremiah raised an eyebrow. The gesture made his face hurt.

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  Bruno sighed. “Thanks to Little Miss My-Mail-is-More-Important-Than-Op-Security, you got a package.”

  “That’s ‘Doctor’ to you,” said Delilah.

  It turned out to be two packages. The first was large and bulky. He started to tear the packing paper, but soon stopped. He sensed something dreadful inside. “Uh-oh. I think I know who this is from.”

  “‘Uh-oh?’” asked Allison. “Why ‘uh-oh’?”

  “Okay, so it’s sort of a tradition that when a mage freely gives a new rune, the recipient sends a gift in return,” said Jeremiah hurriedly. His hand still hovered over the paper.

  Delilah nodded, “Alchemists have a tradition like that. Very common to send things to your…teachers…this is from Flusoh, isn’t it?”

  “Jay what the hell is wrong with you?” said Bruno.

  “He was my teacher! I couldn’t send it to Thurok and not him,” said Jeremiah.

  “Yes, you could have done that very thing,” said Allison. “I don’t care what that is, I want it gone.”

  “One second,” said Jeremiah. What would Flusoh send? Something good? Something bad? Jeremiah hadn’t the faintest guess. He tore the rest of the paper away in a single movement.

  It was a book. Its smooth black leather cover was embellished with gold. The edges of the pages were bright white, unblemished and unstained by use. The title, inscribed on the front, read Flesh .

  “Kill it,” said Allison.

  “Wait,” said Jeremiah. He cracked the book open, half expecting a blast of magical energy, but it was simple paper and pages. A quick flip through revealed dozens of highly detailed anatomical structures.

  “I know some of these pictures,” said Delilah, “I recognize them from medical school. They were in some of our texts, but not this detailed. Certainly not this many.”

  It was certainly a confusing gift. Jeremiah had already gone through extensive anatomical study with Flusoh. “Is there something else?”

  Jeremiah opened to the back of the book, and a note fluttered to the ground.

  Jerry,

  When you’re ready.

  -F

  The final page was different from the others. It was solid, paper-thin sheet of ivory.. Etched into it, rather than printed, were the diagrams, notes, guides, and everything else Jeremiah needed to perform a spell.

  “It’s a spell!” said Jeremiah.

  “Out!” Allison declared.

  No, no, no, wait, wait, wait!” said Jeremiah as Allison gripped the book. “It's a good text book, I don’t need to learn the spell.”

  “If you keep it, you will. That’s how these things work Jay, it’s why he sent it to you. Give it to me.”

  Jeremiah relented, and Allison wedged it within the pile of cooking coals. Jeremiah watched sadly as she stoked the embers into flames, and waited for the edges of those perfectly white pages to char and curl.

  They watched it for several minutes. “I don’t think it’s working,” said Bruno.

  He was right. When Allison fished the book out of the flames, the book looked just as pristine as when Jeremiah had unwrapped it. Even the ash fell away without staining the cover.

  Allison frowned. She drew a dagger and slashed it across the word Flesh. The blade left no mark on the book, nor on any of the paper pages. “What is going on here?”

  Bruno and Delilah gathered around now. Without asking, Bruno took out a small metal file and scratched at a tiny section of the cover. Nothing. Delilah got a bottle of a clear liquid from her Giant’s Bag and poured it on a random page, the liquid slid off onto the table where it hissed and bubbled. She then tried a rubber eraser, but the text and imagery was unmarred.

  Allison had lost the look of frustration, and now rested her chin in her hand in quiet contemplation, along with the rest of them.

  “I’ve got some diamond tipped cutting tools, let me get those,” said Bruno.

  “Yeah let me get some stronger stuff,” said Delilah.

  For an hour more, all four of them tried everything they could think of to destroy the book, and slowly devolved to even trying to cause a page to crease. But try everything they might, the book could not be altered or damaged in any way.

  Delilah stood by an open window, wafting fumes out from her latest acid attempt, “Green slime jelly is the strongest acid I’ve got. If that’s not doing anything I’m out of ideas.”

  “Nothing,” said Jeremiah looking at the book. “But you’re going to need a new table.” The various acids had eaten holes in most of it.

  “Any guesses?” asked Bruno. He was frowning at his failed diamond tipped drill.

  “Only one, it’s an artifact,” said Jeremiah.

  “What’s that?” asked Allison, she glared at the book suspiciously.

  “You know how we can use magic runes and words to affect the world? And that those words are part of an ancient language? An artifact is when someone who knows a significant amount of that language speaks an object into existence.”

  “Like, they just describe it and it appears?” asked Delilah.

  “Yeah, they talk it into the world. And if you’re going to go through all the trouble of speaking an artifact, and I assure you it’s a lot of trouble, you’re going to make sure it’s indestructible.”

  Allison contemplated the book for a long moment. “I think I'll hang onto it for you, then.”

  “I guess that's fine,” said Jeremiah. After all, he didn’t intend to use necromancy again. Well, again again. What use would he have for it? Whatever secrets it held would be of no use to him. And he had no interest in learning them. He wasn’t curious about that spell. Or the detailed diagrams. Or the notes in the margins. Or even in reading the entire book in one night.

  Allison disappeared into her room with the book, and Jeremiah turned his attention to the other package. This one was much smaller and lighter, but Jeremiah had an inkling of the sender. He eagerly ripped the package open.

  The package contained a square of metal. It had strange ridges on it, like it had been folded into this shape. Tiny engravings spiderwebbing across the metal.

  “It looks kind of like an enchanting plate,” said Jeremiah, “But why would Thurok…Oh!”

  Jeremiah set the plate on the ground and gestured for the others to make room. Placing his hands on the runes, he spoke the words of enchanting. The lines on the plate hummed to life with a brilliant cerulean blue glow. Jeremiah's head swam, but managed to stay upright.

  When the plate reached capacity, he pulled away to see what would happen. But the plate just sat there, the glow fading.

  “Well?” asked Delilah.

  “I’m not sure,” said Jeremiah. “I hope this isn’t a test…he would do that, too.” He moved to pick up the plate and it rumpled.

  Jeremiah froze, the metal still bunched up around his outstretched fingers. “What the hell…”

  The others gathered around. Jeremiah pinched the metal. It felt soft as silk in his fingers. He lifted it, and the metal unfolded like a garment.

  “It's...a shirt?” asked Bruno.

  Bruno was right. The plate had transformed into a slim tunic with long tapered sleeves. Jeremiah pulled the garment over his head. The shirt was cold and shimmered like metal, but light and flexible as cotton. It clung to his body, moving when he moved. It fit him perfectly.

  “It’s armor. He used my rune to make flexible metal armor!” said Jeremiah. The craftsmanship was incredible. He swung his arms around, completely uninhibited. Casting would be no problem while wearing this.

  After some experimentation, they discovered the armor had been reinforced, much like Allison’s full plate. Slashing it did nothing and stabbing weapons were diminished to an uncomfortable pressure, however it only softened the blow of a bludgeoning weapon.

  Jeremiah got up off the ground, clutching his stomach. “Okay, still going to try to avoid taking a mace to the guts.”

  “This is absurd,” said Delilah, “you can’t just change the physical properties of a material like that.”

  “That’s literally what enchanting does,” said Jeremiah. He waved his arms around again, admiring the freedom. “I can wear this under my regular clothes, and nobody will know. This is perfect for being out on the streets.”

  An uncomfortable silence followed Jeremiah’s proclamation. He stopped waving his arms and turned to his friends. “What?”

  The others exchanged a glance before Delilah spoke. “We’re just surprised to hear you’re planning to go back out there,” she said kindly.

  “Yeah, especially because you’ve made no progress in two weeks besides getting yourself beat to absolute hell,” said Bruno, less kindly.

  Jeremiah gaped at them. “I’m figuring it out! I’ve got a plan and everything. This was just a minor setback.”

  Allison crossed her arms. “Nearly killed is not a minor setback.”

  “But nothing’s changed!” Jeremiah said. “I’m still the best hope we have of getting out from under this conspiracy. I just need more time!”

  “We’ve been investigating the murders from some other angles, actually,” said Delilah. “That's why Allison's got the uniform.”

  “It makes it easy to get around and keep an eye on things,” said Allison.

  “Oh,” said Jeremiah. It made sense that his friends were doing things without him. It made perfect sense and it made him feel horribly lonely.

  “We suspect this cult draws membership from the lower classes but is run by people higher up,” said Delilah.

  “And we are trying to find out who those people might be,” said Allison.

  “There’s more to it than that, though,” said Jeremiah. “This isn’t just a typical cult. Like what Bruno said, you can feel it when you’re living out there. You need me.”

  “No, we don’t,” said Allison, “It’s not worth the risk.”

  Jeremiah turned towards Bruno. “Do you agree with this?”

  Bruno shifted on his feet. “We’re gambling with your life, and the payout’s probably not great, Jay.”

  Jeremiah looked from face to face and forced a smile. “Fine. That’s just fine. Glad I won’t have to deal with that anymore. Can I have more soup yet?”

  The apartment was empty. Allison had left for patrol, Bruno had disappeared to who knows where, and Delilah was working inside the Giant’s Bag. “See? She’s doing something reckless and dangerous, and nobody cares,” he grumbled to Gus. Gus peeped in agreement from his bowl.

  Jeremiah pulled his new armored shirt over his head and layered a normal tunic over it. The metal still carried a chill that ran down his spine, but it felt like cold silk. He pocketed some new lockpicks and an enchanting file and made for the window.

  Gus peeped again.

  “Sorry, buddy, this adventure isn’t for you.” Jeremiah stroked Gus between the eyes. He turned back towards the window to plan his descent.

  A splash from behind. Jeremiah hadn’t realized Gus was capable of indignant hopping, but that’s exactly what he saw in the toad making its way towards him. Gus’s bad leg still stuck out at a strange angle as he jumped, but he was making his point clear enough.

  Jeremiah sighed. “Yeah, I hear it. You don’t like being told you can’t-”

  Gus made a loud raspy belching croak

  “No, I’m agreeing with you! You’re right—if I need to do this, your place is right there with me.” He tucked Gus into his shirt pocket, where, for better or worse, the familiar belonged. Then he climbed through the window and, with a series of maneuvers he thought might make Bruno proud, he disappeared into the night.