18 – Decisions Play an Important Part in All Futures

“The Stalker is moving to join us,” Michael said as the group took the stairs down. “She can guide us to avoid potential pursuers,” he added after a moment, presumably more for The Hunters. The Warrior would know of her abilities and what they could be used for.

“Avoid them?” The Warrior said, sounding surprised. Her eyes hardened. Where before, she had been upset over leaving her furniture behind, something about her expression now set Erika on edge.

She opened up a yellow faux-leather purse that had been hanging from her shoulder on a thin strap. It was small, about the size of her hand from wrist to fingertip, and not much taller than her hand. Yet, as she lifted the flap and reached inside, she reached all the way up to her elbow. She pulled out a pistol-grip double-barrel shotgun—quite a fanciful thing; while the barrel itself was black, there were gold or brass fixtures on the side of the wooden grip and beneath the barrel with markings and decoration etched into the brass. Erika wondered if the designs were merely decorative or if there was some magic in them.

Holding it in the same hand that held her purse, she reached back inside and withdrew a long bandolier filled with shells. She slung that over her shoulder and plucked two shells from it, one yellow colored and one lime green. Breaking open the shotgun, she slotted them in with practiced ease.

“If The Eclipse wants a war in their backyard, I am more than prepared to oblige.”

Michael started to object. “The Strategist—”

“The Strategist isn’t here.”

“We don’t want a war,” Erika said, earning a nod from Anna. She said so more for the sake of Anna and Rick than any personal feelings of her own on the subject. The Hanged Man, capturing her like he had, was still a sore spot, and the members of The Puppet had all been helpful to her.

If she got an opportunity to punch The Hanged Man in the face, she would take it without hesitation.

The Warrior stopped abruptly midway down the steps. She turned slightly, her eyes looking over the top of her circular glasses. “I forgot you were here,” she said casually, then smiled. “You’re welcome to stay up here. I imagine The Eclipse are likely sending their enforcers already—”

“Stalker says The Tower is approaching,” Michael cut in.

The Warrior’s eyes lit up. “The Tower? What a lucky day!” She cracked open the shotgun again, removed the lime shell—returning it to her bandoleer—before she inserted an ominous black cartridge. “Honestly, I’m surprised they weren’t waiting outside our room.”

“They must have known The Stalker was around and didn’t want her to tip us off.”

Turning fully, The Warrior and Michael continued around the third-floor landing and down toward the second floor. Erika, Anna, and Rick slowed before stopping entirely.

“The Eclipse are the cops, right?” Anna hissed. “We should take our chances with them rather than the person who pulled a full shotgun from a tiny bag. How do you suppose that fits in there? Was the bag bigger on the inside, or are things that go in smaller—”

“Not the time,” Rick said.

“My only experience with The Eclipse is with The Hanged Man,” Erika said, adding in her own anecdote. “He acted mildly friendly, only to betray that five minutes later, when he dragged me into The Church. I don’t trust them.”

Erika had known that The Eclipse had been after her bounty, but she had thought that her precautions had been working. The Art hadn’t reacted to her, and The Hanged Man didn’t act like he knew her, yet delivering her to The Church felt so planned, like it wasn’t something they had done on a whim. The Hanged Man made no phone calls or contacted anyone after she showed up, and yet The Banker had been there, waiting, knowing that she had been in that car.

Maybe it wasn’t a surprise that the information brokers knew everything, but something about all that just felt off to her.

“You trust the shotgun lady more?” Anna asked.

Erika didn’t answer right away, taking a brief moment to consider. Despite having met her twice, she still didn’t know that much about The Warrior. That said, she knew The Stalker fairly well—especially after their fight. While that might have felt like betrayal at the time, jealousy was something that Erika could understand. Besides, they had worked it out.

If The Stalker wanted to Romeo-and-Juliet The Hanged Man, that was her business—at least so long as she didn’t try anything while they were being shot at. If she switched sides abruptly and someone Erika cared about got caught in it…

Would she?

Given how she acted when she thought Erika had met up with The Hanged Man, it was eminently possible.

“Maybe we should slip off on our own,” Erika admitted. “We’re just some regular people, caught in the confusion. Act like any other civilian and look for opportunities to get away.”

Rick shook his head back and forth. “Won’t work. They know what we look like from the subway. You especially.”

“Probably saw us in the room with Miss War Mage, too,” Anna added, grinding her fingers against the circuit tattoo above her ear. “Fuck. Guilty by association, and I don’t even know what we’re guilty of.”

“Could still slip away,” Erika said. “The Warrior sounded like she was going to make a scene. If they’re distracted with her—”

“They shot at her,” Rick said. “A headshot. Two, even.”

“They aren’t playing around,” Anna confirmed. “Slipping away—”

“If they kill her…” Rick trailed off. His eyes were off, down the stairs, not looking at either Erika or Anna, but his hands held tight to the cardboard tube that once again held his sword.

Anna’s face softened immediately, but only for a moment.

“Right. Got to keep The Warrior alive then,” Erika said with a mild sigh. She was fairly certain that The Warrior could handle herself. If she could make a glass window bulletproof and a purse that was larger on the inside, she could probably magic up some forcefield to keep herself safe.

But if The Hunters helped out, she might just owe them a favor. That was the way this world worked, wasn’t it? Favors for favors for favors… And while it seemed like The Warrior had been willing to help out with the cursed sword, favor free, having a little insurance couldn’t hurt.

Rick turned and started down the stairs again, hurrying a little faster this time around. “You two should leave.”

Erika huffed. “Excuse me?”

“I’ve got the sword. I’ll be fine. But you—”

“Last time you used it, you got your leg gnawed off,” Anna said, narrowing her eyes.

“I got bit. Once. It wasn’t even bad.”

“The sword doesn’t make you invincible. And if you draw it and don’t cut someone, you heard what she said. It kills its users.”

“Hasn’t killed me yet,” Rick said, stopping at the landing and turned to face Erika and Anna. “Maybe I can talk to her, try to de-escalate things? But if it comes to a fight, I’ve got the sword. You two… don’t. You’re just regular people.”

A brief realization hit Erika. She had done this exact same thing to the rest of The Hunters, telling them to stay away from the museum while she went in with The Stalker. They were regular people, so of course they should stick back.

She found she didn’t like being on the receiving end.

“I told you, living with The Fixer has given me some… insight,” Erika said with a glower. “I can handle myself.”

“And if you think I’m missing out on witnessing an actual supernatural fight, you don’t know me as well as you think,” Anna said.

Rick looked like he wanted to protest, but a shout from further down the stairs got all three of them moving again. Erika hung back a moment, pulling a bat from her coat. It hadn’t been there originally—it was a new bat, quite a bit longer than the short one originally bought for a young Carter, and wouldn’t have fit inside her coat normally.

She wanted another short, children’s bat. They were easier to carry… not that she really needed to do so. Perhaps what she really wanted was an armory of sorts—a whole selection of bats just waiting for her to grab them. She could add in some other weapons as well. Erika hadn’t given too much consideration to what weapons would be best for her abilities.

It was something to think about, but probably not right at this moment.

If either of her companions noticed her new armament when she rejoined them a second later, neither commented on it.

They were too distracted by the monster slumped up against the door at the bottom of the stairs.

At first, Erika thought the figure was a shadow, some kind of living monstrosity made from darkness. They were so black that it felt aberrant, like something in Erika’s mind just wasn’t working right. Not like a skin tone or even someone using black paint, but black. They looked more like someone coated in that paint that absorbs all light. The figure looked two-dimensional until Erika moved a little and realized there was actual volume there.

She couldn’t tell if they were human or even if the figure was humanoid. The odd, flat appearance made it nearly impossible to make out any real details. All she could really tell was that it was slumped up against the wall.

The Warrior stood over it, well back, with a sharp grin on her face. One of her shotgun barrels was smoking lightly, wafting through the air.

Michael held up an arm, preventing The Warrior from getting closer. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small coin and flicked it toward the shadowy figure. It spun through the air, glinting with light on every rotation, but never quite reached the figure; the spin and the forward momentum slowed and slowed more, still traveling but so slowly that the time frame shifted from inches per second to seconds per inch.

“Don’t think he’s dead,” Michael grunted. “Don’t get near or you’ll get trapped.”

“The Tower is a Leviathan-class being,” The Warrior said, cracking open her shotgun. She removed the black shell and replaced it with a light gray one. “To be honest, I’m surprised it had this much effect. Good job, my former self, anti-Leviathan shell was a resounding success. I cannot estimate when The Tower might recover, but being anywhere in the general vicinity when that happens is ill-advised.”

The Warrior looked over her shoulder, eyes hidden behind her tinted glasses, roaming over Erika, Anna, and Rick for just a moment before she turned without a word and strode through the door at the bottom of the stairs. Michael followed her, clasping his gun in both hands even as he kept the barrel pointed at the ground.

Erika and Rick continued down the rest of the steps. Under less pressing circumstances, and without the warning from Michael, Erika might have stopped to investigate The Tower a bit more. Was the black from him or was it from The Warrior’s shotgun? She presumed the latter, based on all circumstantial evidence. It even felt like there was an odd film around him, somewhat like that golden bar she broke for The Strategist.

Erika could suppress her curiosity given the situation.

Anna, it seemed, could not. She stopped at The Tower, keeping some distance from the two-dimensional void, and pulled out her cellphone. Three clicks echoed from her phone’s speaker as she snapped pictures. She would have taken more, but Rick grabbed her by the arm and dragged her along.

“Wait,” she said. “I wanted to try scraping some of the black off the wall…”

Anna trailed off as the three of them pushed into the hotel lobby.

When they had come through earlier, it had been crowded. Two receptionists, a dozen people meandering about, waiting for their turn at the front desk, and a few security guards. The bar was just off to the side and had been occupied by a few staff and several patrons.

None of that had changed in the hour they had been meeting with The Warrior.

The only difference was that The Warrior stood in the middle of it all, shotgun resting on her shoulder, while Michael and his gun backed her up.

It didn’t take long before the first shout of alarm went out.

The Stalker flickered into existence three steps away from The Warrior, right after the entire lobby turned to see what the commotion was about. Her appearance, fully leaning into her stringy-haired ghostly girl theme, complete with a haggard white dress, and the heavy revolver she waved about, did nothing to help calm the people down again. She triggered a round of fresh shouts, ensuring that even the people who ignored the first few now saw what was going on. It didn’t take long from there for the first people to start taking cover behind counters, running off down the side halls or outside, or to pull out their phones to start recording.

No fewer than five people chose the latter option, those entirely lacking in survival instincts.

“I’ve spotted The Tower, The Hanged Man, The Adjustment, The Fool, The Art—” The Stalker paused, face flickering to a heavy scowl for an extra moment. “—and The Aeon. The Lust was with the others on their patrol, but… I’ve lost sight of her.”

“Really?” The Warrior said, genuinely surprised.

“Just vanished a few minutes before they all pulled back. The rest of them are encircling us. Some cops have started blocking off streets.”

“The Tower is handled,” The Warrior said, waving her hand back toward the stairwell that Erika and the others were still lurking near.

“The Strategist is on his way,” The Stalker said, eyes shimmering as she looked off in the distance. “He’s bringing the van to get us out of here.”

“So we just have to hold out for…”

“Twenty minutes?”

The Warrior didn’t look happy with that admission.

“The Art and The Adjustment are closest, but they aren’t approaching yet. Waiting for more support, I presume.”

“Or waiting for The Tower to report in.” The Warrior looked around once. She paused on a few of the people with phones out, frowning slightly. Her arms twitched like she was going to bring her gun up, but she changed her mind at the last moment. “Michael, get these people out of here. I’ll set up some fortifications. You three, if you’re sticking around…”

The Warrior turned as Michael moved off toward a few of the people in the room, who suddenly decided they did not care about recording when a man with a gun was approaching.

“Take these,” The Warrior said, holding out a deck of cards. She shook a few of the cards out and handed a few to each of The Hunters. “Throw them at the windows. Snap your fingers and they’ll expand to fill the space. Practically indestructible.” She stared at Erika for a moment before repeating herself. “Practically.”

“We’re… in over our heads here,” Rick muttered, more to himself, at the same time as Anna spoke up.

“Anyone can snap? I’m no magic person.”

“The magic is already inside,” The Warrior said, ignoring Rick. “I enchanted them to be used by anyone. Instant deployable barriers, ready to stop any incoming threat.” She glanced back at The Stalker. “As you might have heard, we have several incoming threats.”

Erika didn’t bother questioning The Warrior or fumbling about with how the magic worked. The Fixer would probably be upset with her when it came out that she helped The Puppet evade and escape from The Eclipse, but she didn’t really care at the moment. The Eclipse, The Hanged Man in particular, was already on her shit list. Now they ruin this?

Erika was not a professional card thrower, nor was she an amateur card thrower. In all her life, she wasn’t sure that she had ever thrown a card. Nevertheless, it was hard to live in a modern age without scrolling down some social media feed and seeing some card tricks in action, so she had a rough idea of how it was usually done.

A pinch of her fingers and a flick of her wrist sent the card almost straight down at her feet. It swooped up just before hitting, moving along an unnatural curve before it landed flat against one of the hotel’s large front windows with a small tink sound. Silently thanking The Warrior for enchanting the cards to go where she had been looking and not where she had been throwing, saving herself from having to pick up the card in embarrassment, Erika snapped her fingers.

The card spread outward, growing larger and larger until its edges met with the thick metal frame. The whole process took a few seconds, then she had a giant three of clubs staring at her.

The rest of the cards in her hand hadn’t grown. They either required throwing or contact with glass to advance to stage two. Although Erika had never been unhappy that she could break anything, she did wonder what it might be like to be able to create whatever came to mind—to just magic her thoughts into existence.

With a shrug, she moved on, flicking cards and snapping her fingers at each of the large front windows. Several of the regular people shot her wary looks, but that didn’t stop Michael from ushering them out at the end of his gun.

The Stalker moved up to Erika just as she threw the last card. It was the final window, including two panes on the revolving door, making her wonder if The Warrior had somehow counted it all out and only offered that many cards.

“You’re staying with us?” The Stalker asked, sounding… hesitant.

“I want to test breaking curses, and I’d like your help with a few things. Keeping you guys out of wizard jail—or whatever The Eclipse intends—seems like a good way to do that.” Erika turned, frowning at the clearly heated discussion going on between Anna, Rick, and The Warrior. “The only thing holding me back is them, really, but it seems like they’re going to help out too. Doubt they’ll be happy about it though.”

The Stalker pursed her lips, glaring at The Hunters before she looked back to Erika. “Then you’d better prepare yourself. The Eclipse doesn’t like to kill if they can help it, but that might not stop them.”

“They tried to shoot The Warrior in the head,” Erika said, tone flat.

The Stalker winced. “That was The Hanged Man. He is a long-range specialist, and he probably assumed that The Warrior had enchanted the glass.”

“The Hanged Man, huh?” Erika said, giving The Stalker a pointed look.

She started, panic flickering over her face before she took an aggressive step forward. “You can’t tell them,” she hissed, her words barely audible to Erika. “Please. We keep things separate. It won’t affect the fight.”

Given how The Stalker reacted to finding out Erika had been in the rough general vicinity of The Hanged Man, she wasn’t so sure about that.

“He probably won’t even show up,” she continued, waving a hand at the cards in the windows. “He’s ass at fighting up close. If he can’t get a shot from afar, he runs away. And since he can’t get a shot in, it won’t matter.”

Erika took a breath and let it out slowly. “Tell me about the others. You listed off a lot of names just now, and I recognized like… one of them. What can they do? Which might be problems for us, me in specific?”

“The Tower, for one,” The Stalker said, looking relieved to be off the topic of The Hanged Man, even though Erika had not said that she would keep any secrets.

“The Warrior shot him in the stairway with a black shotgun shell.”

“He can’t be affected by any conventional means, which is probably why he rushed ahead on his own, but The Warrior is not a conventional woman.” The Stalker donned a vicious smile. “Asshole deserves whatever he got. As for the others… The Art is a fucking bitch. That whore needs to just fuck off and die already—”

“We probably don’t have much time,” Erika said. “I’m interested in what they do, not what they deserve.”

The Stalker’s seething pulled back. Her eyes shimmered as she flicked her gaze around. Taking a deep breath, she nodded and gave Erika her first real explanation of The Eclipse’s roster.