An incredibly common ability for detectives in urban fantasylands is some means of rapid recovery from injury, far superior to normal human healing. In part, this is because the job isn’t really survivable otherwise, especially given the tendency to Quip (See previous entry.)

Certain elements who are fond of casting aspersions on the Mystery Play industry, however, have suggested an alternate theory: Those responsible for crafting the tour packages dislike their protagonists intensely, and thus select for those who are best able to suffer for prolonged periods; being able to recover from near-lethal injury with minimal scarring means they can be toyed with for as long as possible.

(This of course, overlooks the alternative that they actually quite like the protagonists and still select for their suffering because they find it amusing.)

--Quote from an internally circulated employee email at Mystery Play LLC, presumably not for public consumption

We reached the center of the hedge maze; Spider was waiting for us, arms crossed, smiling. “Sorry boys. Can’t let you through. My client asked that he not be interrupted while he’s working on his spell.”

“You know, it’s going to be awfully hard to run the rackets you’ve been running with no town to run them in,” I pointed out.

Spider gave me the most guileless look I’ve ever seen Jackie put on.. “Why, I don’t run any rackets. I’m just an honest businessman working security for an event. I’m no criminal, and even if I were, I wouldn’t admit in the presence of a cop who ran a task force for the purpose of harassing me.”

Henry snorted. “Lay off the act, Bonaparte. The only reason you got off last time is because you bribed the judge and we both know it.”

“Even if that were true, and I’m not saying it is, I wouldn’t admit it in front of you, Hank. Can I call you Hank?”

Henry glared at him. “No.”

Spider waved this off, and turned to me.”But you certainly seem awfully convinced that the perfectly legal spell my client is attempting might go wrong. Is that why you’ve been...so persistent in getting into my business?”

“My client’s husband had apocalyptic visions related to what your client’s doing, so was trying to stop it from happening. And you just had to involve the Goetic demon of setting shit on fire in it. If even the slightest thing goes wrong, Aim could burn down the city to get his snake ride back, let alone what might happen if it gets harmed.”

Spider blinked several times. “My. So that’s what old Hugo was up to all this time. Why didn’t he just tell me, if he was so worried? Or our mutual friend” He nodded back to the hooded figure sitting in a pentagram surrounded by several fantastic snakes; I could see Aim’s serpent, a basilisk, and various other mythic snakes all coiled around themselves and waiting for...whatever it was about to begin, until Spider got into my line of site. “Ah-ah, no peeking. Wouldn’t want you to cast any line of sight spells or the like.”

Not that I could do that, and Jackie knew it. But he had to play the part he was given.

I sighed. “Well. You’re not going to let us through, I guess?”

Spider smiled. “That’s right. I understand you gave my subordinate a nice time, though. So I -do- need to see if you’re everything she talked you up to be.”

I groaned. I really needed to talk to my boss about the villains he writes about being fight crazy. I mean, I know how it goes. It gives a good, solid reason for the antagonist to not be willing to talk it out with the protagonist, but to be honest I just figured he’d watched too much anime.

:We all immediately turned away from Spider, and Johnny Zats informed us, “I can sense air pressure changes, so if you want, we can play rock paper scissors to see who beats his ass.”

Henry shrugged. “Either way, I’m staying to arrest his ass. Hopefully with an honest judge this time. If you’re right, we can get him on magical terrorism charges, and federal judges are a little bit harder to bribe.”

I sighed. “Fine.” Johnny and I played Rock Paper, scissors. I threw Rock, Johnny threw paper, and immediately gave a little celebratory fistpump. “Hot damn. Always wanted to fight me a giant spider.”

“Wait, what? The name’s not just a nickname, I thought, like he has a web….”

Johnny drew his sword. “You shitting me? Because he feels like one from here.”

We all turned around, and apparently while we were talking, Spider Bonaparte had turned into a giant spider. Like a black widow with a skull on the abdomen instead of an hourglass.

Admittedly, it wasn’t still only Spider Bonaparte sized, so a bit smaller than I was under the glamour. I muttered to the boss, “Wait, is that an illusion, or is that just Jackie?”

Jackie is a doppleganger, able to transform into the shape of any person he’s ever met. I didn’t think he’d ever met a giant talking spider, but it was always within the realm of possibility, I suppose.

“That’s all Jackie,” Boss answered. “100 percent real giant spider from Weavertown.”

Suddenly I didn’t feel half as bad about leaving this to Johnny Zats, who rushed in and engaged the Spider in..a sword vs. Pedipalp duel...which left the way clear for me.

I looked to Henry, who had his pistol out and was eyeing the duel. “Like I said, I’m just here to arrest the Spider when this is done, even if I have to figure out how to handcuff eight legs at once to do it.”

“Fair enough. Good luck with that.”

He waved me on, and I headed into the center of the maze, where the one behind all this was in the middle of their ritual.

I honestly had expected a twist; I was half-expecting it to be Lukas Martel, but the other half had expected Laura. The first half of my expectations won out. The figure in the robe could only be Martel, baby-smooth skin and round figure under ill-fitting ceremonial garb.

“Mr. Criss,” he said, puffing. “You’ve been interfering with the great work. I should have had you killed.”

“By my count, Mr. Martel, you’ve tried a few times and failed already. Seem to be missing anyone else who can do that for you.” I looked around. “No more hired guns, all your snakes are busy with the ritual, and I get the feeling that if you leave that ritual circle…” I tested the bounds and felt a sharp shock to my hand. It was warded, of course. “Things aren’t going to go well for you.”

Lukas Martel laughed with the laugh of a much older man pretending to be a child. A sort of ‘Oh-ho-ho-ho hee.’ sound. It was a bit disturbing. “As I was saying, I should have you killed...but I will allow you to bear witness to my transcendance. I'm at the moment of triumph now, Mr. Criss. There’s literally nothing you or anyone else can do to stop me.”

I stared at him. “Wow, are you ever an amateur. That is the last thing you should say in this situation, I mean what are you going to do next, tell me all your plans?”

He continued without missing a beat. “The irony of course is that Hugo himself gave me the idea for this, you know. He just wanted to help his business partner, after all. Poor Lukas, with that terrible skin cancer. He performed the spell for me, and it simply...worked. Just basic sympathetic magic. He invoked Gilgamesh and the serpent’s theft, and I wondered, what would it take to get immortality back?”

He was, in fact, telling me all his plans. I sighed. “Should have brought a book.” I drew the rocket wand, and eyed the ritual site, looking for weaknesses. The obvious was the serpent of Aim. I could blast it, but it’d risk drawing Aim’s ire, which was exactly what we were trying to avoid in the first place.

The other snakes were all small enough that they were probably contained in the barrier but...wait.

“...And, I dare say, the whole plan is sheer elegance in its simplicity!” He paused. “Are you...ignoring me? You should be listening! Since you’ve proven so difficult to kill, I shall allow you to chronicle the birth of a new god.”

I’d actually picked up most of what he’d said while I was trying to figure out how I could disrupt this ceremony. “Huh, no, I was totally paying attention. You stole a book of spells from your partner, the same one he used to cure you, then used your money to acquire what you needed. You knew about Spider because of his dealings with your firm, and asked him to be your middle man to acquire what you needed, bringing in more occult artifacts and the wildlife you needed. And then Hugo got wind and started interfering.”

“Yes. I had almost made up my mind to have him killed when he apparently did it for me. A shame it cost the Ripe-making snake; something so tied to death might have been useful in exploring renewal.” He glared. “And then you had to go and claim my second-grandest prize before I could use it.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, well, I figure anyone aiming for immortality doesn’t particularly care about a few losses here and there. It all balances out in the long run.”

He laughed that weird child-laugh again. “True enough, true enough. I can afford to be generous.”

“So, godhood, huh. That’s really what you're aiming for?”

“Why shouldn’t I,” he asked. “Once I become immortal, it seemed like the next logical step. And since I’m trying for one, why not try for the other right away? Go big or go home, as the kids say these days.”

For one, no kid these days says that, that was big like ten years ago, but I didn’t point that out, instead just saying “You may have the cart before the horse there, actually. Most of the time, you have to die in order to ascend to godhood properly. Can’t do that if you can’t be killed.”

“This wasn’t entirely true, but it was the most sure-fire way. Trying to jump straight to godhood without some great deed to propel you along the way and make sure you’re properly worshipped never works out the way you’d like. But I probably wasn’t going to reason this guy out of it.

And in fact, I wasn’t. He hissed. Too much snake influence. “YOu’re trying to trick me because I’m about to be a god and I’ll have the power to -make- you bow before me.”

I sighed. “You can think that if you want, but I’m trying to warn you that this isn’t going to go the way you’d like.” I put the wand away. It wouldn’t really do to blow the center of the Liminal society’s garden maze. Besides. I had a rough idea of the ‘intended’ solution to disrupt the ritual now.

The whole ritual space was carved into a runestone he’d appropriated somewhere- probably shipped in via his contact with Spider Bonaparte, or at least it was supposed to be.

I could read the writing on it, of course, because it was carved by my grandmother.

I suspect the plan was that if I’d been playing the heavy, still, there would have been some sort of sudden but inevitable betrayal and I’d recite the spell to fuck him over. Nothing was going to stop me from doing that anyway now that I was the protagonist.

Speaking of sudden betrayals, where was Simone in all this? We’d already had our fight and I’d already escaped her cozy little torture jail, but she wasn’t around for the finale? Something felt off.

One day I’ll figure these things out before it’s too late to do anything about it and when I’ve got time to prepare, since as I opened my mouth to start reading off the runestone, I was hit by a buffet of wind from behind that actually staggered me- I slammed into the wards, then was repelled away from that, which slammed me back to the ground.

Simone hovered above me as I tried to stand up, wand leveled. “I’ve thought about it, Mr. Criss, and I’d like a rematch. No holds barred this time.”