Rule 8

Expect Betrayal & Grow Better Awareness

Statement: Truthfully, I’ve come to expect being backstabbed—and not because people have treated me wrong. Oddly, everyone I’ve talked to has their own agenda, but they seem content to live and let live on a long-term scale.

To anyone paying attention, it’s clear why no one outright kills me during my sleep—and it’s not my meticulous preparation and stealth abilities. Callisto, Leon, and Allegra could work together to find me, endure an explosion rune, then gut me in my sleep. They have not—because I’m more useful alive.

We walked. Technically, I limped until I found a stick, likely discarded by some dead mini-orc. Then I hobbled. Midge simply flew. I envied her having wings but wouldn’t take them if it required being so small.

She headed off toward destinations unknown. I followed because there was safety in numbers. I couldn’t do much else until my leg healed a bit more. Two bars were left in my pockets. The rest of my food had been, touched wrong. I somehow managed to juggle the bar, my walking stick, and talking to Midge.

“Why did it even bargain with us?” I asked. She might be in the mood to answer questions. Midge talked a lot. It made up for my exhausted and vacant thoughts.

Post Note: Come to think of it, my speech has been succinct—most of the time—since the accident. I answered questions without problem, but rarely volunteered anything. I used to believe it was the drugs, but now?

“Mister Yuck Yuck?” Midge asked.

I nodded. The fact that she had to check made my mind click off for a moment.

“He wanted to have cake and eat it too. Yes. But the cake is a lie. Plus I named it. Little Shade is smart, but not too smart. She let you give her a name. That’s dangerous. She owes you. You own her. The Little Shade part anyway.”

In a single breath Midge had answered me, wandered off topic and into another interesting land.

“Names have power,” I said. It must have been true, because I couldn’t speak a lie.

This part of town had more flatland than the rest of my home. There were less hiding spots. Most of the trees were short but shrubs had overgrown the sidewalk. I walked freely down the middle of the street. The only danger here would be a patrol of ogres or the latest hydra incarnation.

“That they do. Like Mister Yuck Yuck.” And we were back on topic again. “I call him that because he’s always laughing. And because he’s gross. It’s double yuck. I call him that and it gives me power. But only a little. It’s why we could trade. But then he wants to eat us. You see? The first Adamschild gained power by naming. It’s a rule.”

I nodded. I did not see. Not entirely. I thought back to all those years of Bible study my brother had been involved in. He’d told me something along those same lines. Adam named all the creatures in God’s garden. Which, was weird, since those stewardesses had called us all Adamschild.

Then it hit me. It suddenly made sense. Or at least this one aspect. A dozen other thoughts and ideas started to slide into place. I’d buried them for the last month in an effort to simply exist but it was hard to ignore the implications now.

Post Note: I could expound on the ideas that hit me in this moment. It would take me pages and pages—then I’d run out of ink. I shall confirm one thing, but the rest is unverified. Adamschild referred to humans who were born of the “first” man (though on that, I’m still unsure). This is perhaps the strangest way to have any theological point verified.

Midge distracted me with her ramblings, “It’s why when you’re the other you, you laugh and poke things. Ha rose thorn. Hawthorn. Get it? It’s funny and true and pointed. Beautiful to look at. Dangerous to pluck. Plucky pucky pointy porker poker.” Midge giggled.

Midge spoke in circles. Or flew in circles while speaking. It was hard to separate the two ideas sometimes. I replayed the details of our three brief interactions. The first time, she’d asked for roses to speak secrets about me and the artifact I’d bought. It made little sense that she accepted a simple rose in place of one hundred dollars.

“Why roses?” She’d brought them up first by implying my name meant thorns, like those on a bush.

“Why stab monsters?” Midge retorted.

That set me back. I stabbed monsters to survive. Killing them also gave me money, more power, and ensured that there were less creatures to threaten Stella. Killing monsters served multiple purposes.

“Are you saying that you enjoy roses?”

“One hundred bucks.” Midge put out a hand and spun around lazily. She clearly didn’t expect me to pay or she’d be in my face pestering me until I let go of the topic.

I shook my head. “No deal.”

“Then a secret for a secret. My story for yours.”

I stared at the sky. The sight made me dizzy. I’d looked up so many times but never noticed more than if there were clouds in the sky or rain. Most days I could barely lift my head to gaze at a roof. But today, was oddly peaceful.

Post Note: Once we got done running for our lives, I guess.

“Doesn’t matter. If I tell you, I’ll have one less secret of my own. But if I tell you, it might help me. The world is strange, yeah? Secrets want to get out, but we hide them away.” Midge flew but cupped her hands toward her chest. “Hide them as if they’re made of purist gold and air and fragile hearts all at once. We need them to live but want to share. Look at my secret. Look at my fragile air heart.”

The faerie made me uncomfortable. I would have rather had the silent bell ringing type than this chatty little girl. But then I’d be alone with my thoughts in the middle of nowhere. I didn’t know where we headed. That bothered me. My stomach felt heavy with the latest batch of food. My leg itched and I wanted new pants.

“Then we give them away. Give and give until those secrets mean nothing, are nothing, and we’re left hollow. Then we need more than we gave away to fill the void. A mind is made of want. Maiden want.” She put out her hands and they held nothing. I’d almost expected a small spark of light or magic.

“I once gave a lady a flower. She gave me a rose and said to eat it. That I’d be pretty and filled to bursting with my little secrets. That was there. This is here.” Tiny shoulders shrugged. “I’m not who I was any more than you are who you were. We’re changed. We’re all changed. We’re all changing. Changing changed changlings.”

She clamped both hands over her mouth as if she’d said too much and flew off.

I glanced at the sky once more and searched for the nuggets of useful information inside of Midge’s rambling. There were plenty, to be sure, but they left me with only more questions. Everything Midge said left me with more questions and the better answer seemed to be ignoring them. I had more tangible goals such as killing monsters and gaining power.

Post Note: For those who didn’t read my first journal, let me recap briefly. There are signs of what’s to come. Portents. Hints throughout my journey. Most, I don’t understand yet—but they feel important enough to share. Midge gives most of them. (A side effect of The Tattletale name? Did Little Shade name her? Did Coach Madison call her Pix for the same reason? Is it because she’s too small to keep big secrets?

In a twisted way, this all fits perfectly with this world’s logic. However, if I admit the fantastical is an option, then so is a more mundane answer. I could be in a padded cell on drugs going on the wildest adventure of my life. Or catatonic in a hospital room. Those are more likely.

It’d only been a few blocks since the sewage plant. The smell of damp and mildew hung in the air. I limped toward where Midge had flown.

Little Shade and her cone of darkness stood near the edge of a relatively intact building. “Come on! We’ve got to get you somewhere safe before dark.”

No obvious threats were on the street. I searched for signs of chicken rabbits and mini-orcs but came up empty. This place had been picked clean of any possible threats. I lifted an eyebrow.

“Mister Yuck Yuck comes out at night and eats anything roaming the streets. Like a homeless man searching for cans, he is. Plus, wouldn’t you rather spend the night somewhere warm?” Little Shade waved me forward. “Maybe with some company? Lance?”

“Maybe farther away,” I said. Having company would be nice, but since I wasn’t Hawthorn, there was no compulsive need. I only had her arms to judge by, but Little Shade seemed friendly and well built.

“Oh, for sure. Farther and farther away. These places init worth the trouble most days. Better goods to be had scavenging the dead, there is. Or was, most places are picked over by now. Harder to find prizes not guarded by monsters.”

With that, Little Shade led us onward. The women lmost ran. Midge’s legs moved exactly like a person on a fast treadmill. It struck me as weird because she could fly. Little Shade might be doing the same but her shroud blocked nearly everything except for the tips of bare feet.

They didn’t stop until we stood in the doorway of yet another abandoned home. A lantern danced on a coffee table inside. I stared at the flickering flame while Little Shade picked the lock.

Post Note: If this seems weird, then here are some details. Many houses in this world are still locked. Their windows may be smashed, and yards are often an unruly mess, but the doors are still locked. The more powerful monsters are in key locations. Birds on the former high-rise. Hydras running down main street because it’s wide open. Ogres taking over downtown. But there are simply too many small pockets of residential housing. In these places, mini-orcs are the most prolific, and mini-orcs can’t pick locks—that I’ve seen.

Shed led us inside. I hobbled to a beat-up recliner and lowered myself onto the cushion. Stiff material pushed back, providing me a comfortable resting place. It’d been untouched for a long time.

Little Shade closed the door. She slid the blinds down and left the lantern on the table. I didn’t know if that meant something.

“You still going to Crown State?” Little Shade asked.

I stared at her. Going there had been her suggestion. I wondered, briefly, if the entire mission was an elaborate ruse to get us all away from the encampment where Mayor Kent housed himself. That might be possible.

“I have to. There is no other way to kill the Ogre King,” I said. “At least, according to what you told me.”

He’d grabbed me out of the air. Like a child snatching a grasshopper. I adjusted my clothes uneasily and wondered how often I’d come inches from death. Or how often I’d need new clothes. These weren’t even the same pants as before. Little Shade had repurposed materials from the house we were in. Most days, finding replacement wear was easy. Finding belts, was not.

“It’s true. The world’s changed and places like that, have power. You’ve seen the big boss. He’s lording over all the others. Not because he started special, but because he found something special. He did. Found the picture in a guide book. Saw the power init. Same guide book had the park. Picture of an eagle plucking out a fish.”

“That could mean anything,” I said.

“No. It’s alle. Allego. Gorical.”

“Allegory.”

“Whatever. Everything here means something close to what it seems to be. You saw Mister Yuck Yuck. He looks like walking sewage. Smells like it. Lives in it. His nature and location, and probably what he was in the other world, all tied together.”

Post Note: I heard it. I heard it and it didn’t quite click right. If I simply explain it, it won’t be worth as much. But if you’re alive out there still, take note—and pay attention.

“Them dungeons you and your friends are always going into. They have monsters, but those monsters are kind of like what you’d expect to see, right? Bet if we went to a zoo we’d find lions and tigers and bears.” She snorted. “There’s magic in the world, and it’s taking from our imaginations. It is.”

That would be useful information, if we could use our current minds to shape the world to something friendlier. I assumed the only way to do so now, post change, would be to use the gifts we’d bought toward the end. This wasn’t a world we could simply scream at and it would change.

Midge sat near the lantern, fluttering her wings. Little Shade ransacked the kitchen for food. I stayed in the front room and thought about what they had said.

Little Shade had talked to me once before about a secret weapon in Crown State Park. That’s what started this entire fool’s errand. I squinted as details stopped adding up. First she helped me. Then she stabbed me. Then Little Shade found me and dropped her grand get safe quick scheme, after threatening to gut me again. Truthfully, I wasn’t much better with people either. Where I managed to suppress the impulse to blow my companions up, she might be unable to fight off the little voice. Predisposition to violence prior to this world, or knowledge that I healed easily could serve as extra reasons to stab me.

I didn’t know for sure. The puzzle of her motivations and drives kept me entertained.

She walked through with a sandwich. The remaining bologna was tossed at me. I opened the container, sniffed, and decided it had somehow been preserved. Magic made the world bizarre. Little Shade wandered into the bedrooms and banged around boxes.

“Did you get what you needed?” Little Shade asked.

I stared at the necklace and sighed. When I’d touched the lantern and “learned” my first spell, it had simply collapsed into red orbs. The second spell had come from the dead “dryad.” This one might not become a spell. Maybe the necklace needed a trigger word, or I had to replace my own teeth.

That sounded abysmally gross. I’d wallow in the blood of my enemies and be bathed in pig guts, but never try to replace my own teeth. Besides, some of them were sharp enough already.

Recap: I’d briefly mentioned this in the last journal. As Lance, some of my teeth seemed to be falling out and were replaced by sharper teeth. The change was easy enough to disguise from others until I smiled—which, as Lance, I rarely did. Hawthorn though, Ha-Rose-Thorn, has his own rules.

“So, no? Yes? No. Maybe so. Engine, engine number nine, running down Chicago line.” Little Shade started humming. Midge joined as her wings beat in time with the tune.

“I don’t know. I have to figure out how to use it.”

“Try eating them. They’re teeth. You eat teeth,” Midge offered from the table. “But they’re not teeth anymore, are they?”

That sounded gross, and utterly wrong. I would have done it if the teeth gave me power. I grabbed the necklace and had another thought entirely. The short biker craftsman had shoved items into my book. It might be that simple.

I set my book down on a nightstand to my right. The useless lamp sitting there was shoved off to a side. My back hurt and legs ached as I leaned over. I spared only a moment of wonder for the fact that my spell book had stayed with me. It could be attributed to the blood covered crutch which had been shoved into it during the making.

Post Note: To sum up in a word—“magic”—most of the strange events of this world fit under that umbrella. This is annoying because I have to continue learning nonsensical rules in order to survive.

“Not going to eat them? Shame. Ladies like a man who’s willing to get his face dirty. Specially now. Well, that reminds me.” Little Shade wandered off again into another room. I stared for a moment and wondered what, exactly, it might remind her of but heard the tub faucets turning.

She started the bath. I found it strange plumbing in these old houses still worked. Their tanks would have water in them still if no one had used the house since we’d left, but it would soon run out. I could use a wash myself. It’d been—days—since I’d touched myself with anything cleansing.

Life in the new world came with grime. Not Mister Yuck Yuck level, but certainly far above those days gone by. I’d take a bath as well, but after Little Shade. As Lance, I worked to maintain a certain level of politeness. Or maybe it was simply not wanting to get entangled with her. Little Shade was the closest thing I had to a friend, despite the twisted the idea.

I opened the book. On page one, red lights shimmered and rolled around under a reflective surface. It was like looking at a mirror with fireflies blinking and buzzing. Page two had the Hawthorn spell, brown, likely representing the skin “dryads” might all share. Page three had the black lights. They were harder to see. I used that spell to store and summon pre-set items.

Page four remained blank. Down went the necklace of teeth. It shimmered, and the book quaked, shaking the end table. I grit my teeth and frowned. That had never happened before. After a few breaths, the book and necklace remained unchanged.

My lips tightened. The remaining meat in my hands was nearly finished and almost forgotten. Midge sighed heavily and stared into the distance. Her eyes unfocused and barely discernible due to the lantern’s light. None of my surroundings helped clear up the current mystery.

Post Note: That mystery being, how could I get this expensive item to work for me as a spell of any sort.

I studied the teeth. It helped me ignore the sounds coming from the bathroom. Little Shade either really enjoyed getting clean, or really enjoyed getting clean.

Mister Yuck Yuck had probably scavenged these teeth from deceased monsters. The flat ones looked like ogre teeth. It made sense, because ogres had patrolled all over the area in packs. They wandered down the main roads in groups of five or six. If they had run into the hydra, the ogres would lose. Then there may be orbs, there may not be. The hydra seemed to have a chance of leaving behind carcasses instead of turning monsters into orbs.

The sharp ones were not ogre teeth. One of the stranger traits they had was a mouth full of molars. They didn’t have incisors or anything else. Therefore, the sharper teeth with different colorings, were not from ogres.

They weren’t from the birds, or the mini-orcs because their sharp teeth curved into tusks. They weren’t any of the creatures I’d fought in dungeons or found while patrolling. But, studying dead monsters often proved difficult since they turned into orbs.

I’d had a hard time finding actual dead bodies outside of monster lairs like the hydra. I paused my study of the necklace and wondered if that was due to Mister Yuck Yuck picking the streets clean over the last year.

Post Note: This, like everything else, spawned a host of additional questions. How had I never encountered him before? Likely answers included, “I had never gone into the sewers” “I hadn’t been to this specific part of town” “luck” or “he only goes out occasionally.”

The teeth were nothing special. The cord binding them could have come off hiking shoes. There were signs of wear and tear. Each tooth had a nail-sized hole in it, but they’d taken care to ensure none of the enamel or plaque had been damaged.

I couldn’t feel anything from either object. This led me to believe I’d paid all that money for a broken item.

Of course, the mirror, orb, and book had been broken too before the store keeper shoved them together. The book had actually been gutted of every single page, because some other twitchy man bought only the pages and not the binding.

My options and patience were limited. The pain in my legs still lingered. I reminded myself of the first secret I’d been told. Be brave, be wise, be a coward. Those things contradicted each other.

I broke the cord holding the teeth together. The necklace turned into green orbs and slowly faded into the book.

“Figured it out?” Little Shade asked from the other end of the cozy front room.

“It seems I have,” I said while looking up.

The sight made me pause. Little Shade stood with only a towel wrapped around her waist. It did nothing to hide her curves or wet red hair. She had a second towel around her hair and seemed to be patting it to dry.

“Uhh,” I said and blinked slowly. I’d been stupefied that I’d forgotten to reach for any spells. Instead, I simply stared and felt my face flush.

Little Shade had pale skin. Whiter than a ghost. Freckles all over, starting at her cheeks and traveling over long arms. She’d either taken time to shave or had naturally light hair. I simply had no clue what to make of the sudden change in our relationship.

“You forgot your hat.” My mind felt numb. The sight of a woman wearing only a towel overloaded me.

“Wanted someone to see me for me, yeah? Figured I’d give you something to remember me by. Like they used to send knights off to battle with a hanky or a kiss for luck. I’m a modern girl. Figured a bit of eye candy might suit your tastes more, Sir Lance.”

I nodded. That sort of made sense. Once we were done here and I healed, I’d rush to catch up with the others.

“Didn’t want you to get distracted by your metal girl. I figure you’ll run off to catch up with them. If you run fast enough you’ll get there and help them, right? And I’ll stay here and keep an eye on your wee one. But if you ever need another hand in the dark, let me know. I’m not just a little girl, or a lamp shade. That I’m not.”

Little Shade had successfully made me mute. Her body had muscle definition and a small chest, but she had a dirty mouth. Callisto had even more muscle definition and more chest but had been reserved. None of it deterred me. I swallowed.

“I figured what better time. A nice bath like that. Could have joined me. Would have had a better time. Getting all dirty then clean, and dirty again. Shame, it is.”

“Still could,” I said. Hawthorn would have been smoother in his delivery. Lance hadn’t touched a girl since before the accident. No, those were both me. I was familiar with how to handle a willing woman. The hesitation in my mind had more to do with seeing her remove the disguise.

There was an uncaring vulnerability to it that she might not even know. Seeing her without the hat implied trust, or a new angle to some power game I hadn’t known we were playing. She couldn’t possibly be after the necklace, I used it already. She couldn’t be after the spell book, it was bound to me.

“Oh, no. You played with your toys while I played with mine. You go to the woods. We’ll stay here. There’s spiders there and spiders are icky. That they are.” Little Shade shuddered.

“Be really careful of spiders,” I repeated. Midge said the exact same recently. Maybe this was the warning. I imagined arachnids were enemies to anything with gossamer wings. I felt better, finding a topic to glom onto besides Little Shade’s towel clad status.

“Yep!” Midge chirped. Then something behind me clicked and the world blurred.

I spun as I fell. My hand brushed across the spell book, gathering red energy automatically. Muscle spasms prevented me from forming the right gesture. I stared at the blurry vision.

Midge held a glove larger than her entire body, wings and all. I vaguely recognized it as one of Toymaker’s zapping weapons. She brought it down again and my body arced in pain.

They’d set me up to be distracted, then zapped. By the time the murky realization finished attempting to register, the women were gone. I sat up slowly and stared at the now empty room.

At least I’d gotten a new spell out of it.