18 – Lingering Stress

Erika sat with her hands clasped together under her nose, elbows resting on the table in Varn’s back room.

A glass cake dome sat dead center of the table, stopping anyone from accidentally bumping into the turquoise-encrusted ring. The Warrior’s ring box was closed, but that hadn’t helped Erika back at the morgue. It hadn’t done a thing since they got it out of Safe Harbor; no doors opened to weird spaces, nobody heard any whispers or compulsions to mummify people, and no grim reapers popped out of the woodwork. They put it under a simple glass dome and assigned shifts to watch it, but it was looking like there wasn’t much point.

Erika felt agitated. Her knee jumped up and down as she stared at the ring. Just staring at it brought back that thing’s voice, weighing her down with every word. She had gotten better toward the end, able to snap herself out of that paralysis, but she still wasn’t sure if that was her own doing or because the Final Judge wanted her gone.

“I’m just not sure how you don’t know it,” Rick said, glaring across the top of the glass dome. “It’s part of you, or something like that.”

Delilah withered under Rick’s stare, shifting uneasily as Nya presumably spoke to her. “If you had just…” Delilah stopped, frowning back where Nya was. “Uh… That’s a bit aggressive, and he’s unhappy enough.”

Rick crossed his arms, drumming his fingers in the crook of his elbow. Slowly, he raised one eyebrow.

Delilah sighed. “Nya says you need to pay more attention because she obviously isn’t part of it anymore. And a few other words that I’m not going to repeat.”

“You can tell your duplicitous little friend that I have been paying attention. Maybe more attention than she would like,” he said with a scoff. “You had issues when we broke the Carrion █████ and the ██████ of Maggots. Straight up passed out both times. If you had truly broken yourself off, you wouldn’t have that kind of problem, right?”

“That’s different. It’s like…” Delilah trailed off, staring at a point of empty space off to the side of the room. “I don’t get it.”

“What? What’d Nya say?”

“Okay, that’s a bit better,” Delilah finished, nodding hesitantly before turning back to Rick. “It’s like you can see the sun up in the sky, but Earth isn’t part of the sun, right? We feel its heat and it powers everything…” She trailed off, starting to look a little uncertain. “I guess disrupting another aspect is like the moon causing an eclipse? A temporary interruption of sunlight? I… I don’t know why I thought this explanation was better.”

Rick, scratching the side of his cheek in mild bewilderment, shook his head. “I guess I get it? What was the first explanation?”

“Something about the ocean leaking—”

“I kind of want to break the ring,” Erika said, speaking for the first time in a long while. Her voice felt raspy, but her throat hadn’t stopped feeling dry since returning from Safe Harbor. It felt like a lump of salt had gotten stuck in her throat.

She took a long drink of water, sitting back. It helped. For now.

“Just… ping!” she said, miming knocking it with a small hammer. “No more Final Judge problem.”

“Destroying the ring won’t hurt the Judge, Nya says.”

Erika shrugged, palms up. “Doesn’t matter. She said there are effectively unlimited aspects. Not going to kill them all. We just need to focus on the ones actively causing problems; for some, that means going after them directly, but isn’t it good enough to trap the others in their little realms? Take away the Final Judge’s link to the rest of the world and it might as well not exist.”

“We don’t know that the ring is its only link,” Rick said with a small frown. “I get it, but if we do have to go after this Judge directly, the ring might be an easy way in.”

“It isn’t the only link,” Nya confirmed through Delilah. “As long as that little village continues practicing their traditions, that in and of itself serves as a pathway to that realm. It was probably a large-scale ritual to break a chain, and if the Judge was truthful about there being no chain in its realm, then it already succeeded, further weakening the boundaries between realms.”

“That’s great and all. Sounds like a perfect way in if we need it. But I’m worried about the ring itself,” Erika said, still glowering at it. “We’re about to hand it over to—”

Heavy bass thumping flooded into the backroom as the door swung open.

“Hello and good evening!” The Warrior waltzed into Varn’s back office like she owned the place.

“Warrior,” Rick said, starting to stand, but The Warrior paid him no mind.

Without even waiting for any acknowledgment, she swept up to the table and popped the glass dome up and off the ring. The Warrior picked up the ring box, popped open the lid, and stared down with one hand rubbing at the rim of her glasses. She hummed and hawed for a moment, squinting at it.

Erika sat frozen, torn between knocking it out of her hands to follow through on her threat to break it and keeping well clear of the thing that dragged her off to the Bench.

Her hesitation took the decision from her and, in a flash of The Warrior’s bright smile, the ring case slammed shut.

“Perfect,” The Warrior announced, sliding the ring box into the pocket of her lemon-yellow cardigan. “This is the genuine article. And your payment…”

When she pulled her hand from her pocket, The Warrior had a new box in her hand—a miniature polymer box which she popped open with a flick of her thumb. She set it on the table and slid it across with a light shove.

A pair of light-devouring bullets, sized for Erika’s Desert Eagle, stared up at her. She lightly touched one, feeling the familiar film around the cold metal. These were the genuine article—which also meant that this Warrior was probably not a mimic.

The faintly iridescent void at the very tips of the bullets jolted Erika out of her silence. Her palms cracked the table, earning a groan from Rick, as she stood up. “The ring is dangerous—” she started, but couldn’t help her cough.

“I am aware,” The Warrior said, waving her off. “I will be taking precautions.”

“Even inside your box, it dragged me off to some parallel space. I didn’t even go through a portal.”

“Really?” The Warrior’s eyes lit up. She turned to stare head-on at Erika, thumb furiously rubbing against the bottom rim of her amber-hued glasses. “That sounds promising. Oh… you’ve got some lingering miasma around you.”

“Yeah? That why it hurts to talk?” Erika whispered.

“Maybe. Maybe you just screamed your throat raw.”

“I didn’t scream,” Erika said, then paused. “Much. Got a fix?”

“You think I’m some kind of miracle worker?” Despite the rhetorical question, The Warrior swung a purse off her shoulder, popping open the clasp. She rummaged through, pulling out an assortment of miniature doll-like furniture, reaching in further than she had any right to, and eventually pulled out a small, individually-wrapped cough drop. The wrapper even bore a brand name.

“What is it?” Erika asked, accepting it with some suspicion. She glared at it, squinting at the paper. It didn’t feel magical, lacking that trademark film around it.

“A throat lozenge,” The Warrior said with a smile. “Grape flavor.”

Erika took her eyes off the cough drop to give The Warrior a flat look.

“What? I don’t carry around cures for every magical ailment.” The Warrior shrugged as she started packing away her dollhouse toys. “It’ll probably go away on its own. If not, you can stop by for a consultation. Or maybe take a visit to The Healer—” She stopped to make a face. “But that would require meeting The Healer. Personally, I’d rather live with a persistent cough.”

Not breaking her glare, Erika popped the cough drop into her mouth. The chill ran through her mouth immediately, but as always, she felt like it just didn’t reach the itch in the back of her throat.

“We’ll probably take you up on the consultation,” Rick said, lips pressed together. “The others who went aren’t having it quite as bad as Erika, but there have been a few coughs going around. Might just be that everyone got sick,” he added with a slight wary look at Erika.

“I’ve never been sick a day in my life.”

Rick took on a more speculative expression as he looked Erika over. “You probably break every fever before it starts. But that’s an aside.” He turned back to The Warrior. “I agree with Erika that the ring is dangerous. I’m not going to claim to be an expert over you, absolutely not, but I will say that we will be… disappointed if we have to clean up a mess because of that ring.”

“Duly noted.” The Warrior turned back to Erika. “In any case, I have my ring, you have your bullets. Our business today is concluded. I need to get back to work; much to do and so little time before the big event.”

“You’re still planning on going to that thing?” Erika asked, stopping The Warrior from leaving.

“I’ve got three ideas for this,” she said, patting her pocket where the ring was. Pausing, she frowned, then corrected herself. “I’ve got a number of ideas for this, but three rings I’d like to see if I can make before the invitation’s deadline. If I can get any one of them working in the short time before it starts, I’ll go.”

“Protective enchantments?”

“Of a sort.” The Warrior waved over her shoulder. “Got to get started right away. Ta taa~ for now!”

“Wait! Hold on!”

The Warrior paused, half-turning back. She looked over Erika, tapping her glasses once more. “Yes?”

Erika shifted a little, feeling a hint of embarrassment. “Where’s The Stalker?”

“Ah.” The Warrior laughed a little, shaking her head. “Unfortunately, she’s on a mission—a little preparation before this whole thing goes down. Given your open association with The Eclipse, it would probably be for the best if I didn’t tell you what that mission is, for both our sakes.”

Which meant it was something The Eclipse wouldn’t like. Erika was perfectly happy not hearing the details; the plausible deniability worked better that way. As long as The Stalker wasn’t hurt somewhere. Not wanting to hear more, Erika waved The Warrior off, sinking back into her seat as The Warrior vanished even faster than she appeared.

They had already informed The Warrior of everything that happened regarding that ring, so Erika hoped her precautions would be adequate. Now that Erika had bullets again, she might be able to do something about the Final Judge, if it came down to it.

But only two bullets.

Popping the lid of the case, Erika frowned down at her latest acquisition. One less than last time. If she didn’t waste any, like she had with the Carrion █████, two should be enough for two aspects.

Besides the Final Judge, who felt somewhat contained, there was the aspect in the snowfield to consider. If there was a chain in that realm, she ran the risk of breaking it just by entering. Assuming patterns held true, that would lead to a flood of mimics making their way to Earth and all the chaos that would ensue. Unlike birds or maggots, she doubted a bunch of doppelgangers would be so easy to cover up, but that was a job for The Eclipse. The real concern for Erika was more of her friends ending up replaced, especially if they did a more thorough job than the Anna clone.

“Did we ever decide what aspect was out in the snowfield?” Erika asked, interrupting another burgeoning argument between Rick and Delilah. “The name or ideas the aspect represents. I just want to think about how to break it before we get there.”

The two paused. Rick looked at Delilah. Delilah turned to nothing in particular.

“Maybe we should accept the invitation,” Erika muttered as she waited for Nya to tell Delilah what to say.

Rick turned to her, narrowing his eyes a little. “I thought we decided there wasn’t going to be a better distraction. We won’t have to deal with The Monk like we had to deal with Jack if he’s busy.”

“Unless he sees that we didn’t show up, calls the whole thing off, and hunts us down. Then we have to fight him, just us.”

“It won’t be like last time,” Rick said, voice soft. “We won’t be racing down at highway speeds, primed for a wreck that takes half of us out of the fight before it can even start.”

“No, just lost in an infinite snowfield,” Erika grumbled. “Or what if he activates some mind control device and we come back to find the whole city waiting to fight us?”

“Uh…” Rick hesitated, glancing between Delilah and Erika. “Has he shown any evidence of mind control abilities?”

“No, but…” Erika stood, pocketing her small box of bullets. “I’m going for a walk.”

“What, now?”

“You didn’t even hear what Nya has to say.”

Erika brushed them off. “I’m just going around the block for a breath of air. I’ll be back.”

Opening the office door, Erika stepped out into the heavy bass of the arcade floor. Erika wasn’t sure why Rick decided to go with Europop. Even as someone who enjoyed loud and heavy music, she found it a bit too loud.

Poor Daniel, manning the counter while leaning over a textbook, had one finger in an ear and his shoulder pressed up against his other ear as he flipped the pages. He didn’t even notice her as she slipped around the counter and into the rest of the arcade, passing by a respectable handful of customers on her way to the front exit. She thought about saying something to drag him out of his studies and into a conversation, if only for the distraction of it, but shook her head and stepped outside.

Erika didn’t like how she felt right now. There was something wrong, and it wasn’t the odd, salty rasp in her throat. Ever since getting back from Safe Harbor, her nerves wouldn’t let her be.

Although the weather was warming up and the days were lasting a bit longer, the old street Varn’s sat on felt as dark and gloomy as ever. Erika blamed the nature of the neighboring businesses; adult video stores, tattoo parlors, and a Jamba Juice didn’t quite fit the air of an arcade. The bright neon lights from the arcade didn’t help, casting the entire street in odd hues.

The cool, open air did feel better. Erika didn’t think she was claustrophobic, but she couldn’t deny a good walk did wonders for her mood. However, her enjoyment only lasted until her thoughts started churning again—there were so many things on her mind that she felt swamped.

She blamed the Final Judge. Something about it set her teeth on edge. A giant maggot and a giant bird were threatening and imposing due to sheer scale, but the Final Judge represented something different: intelligence. An opponent with extreme power but who couldn’t wield it effectively was an easy target. An opponent who could plan in advance while wielding that same power just felt…

The Final Judge hadn’t even attacked her. It just spoke, and that had been more than enough.

The thing in the snowfield—would it be another mindless monster, an easy mark? Or would it be something lying in wait, preparing traps for intruders to fall into? Or worse, it could prepare those mimics. Erika could just imagine walking through a snowstorm, visibility poor, and hearing Leslie calling for help, only to hear another Leslie from the opposite side, and then a third, fourth, fifth… Two Annas had been difficult enough to tell apart in a controlled environment.

Erika pulled out her phone and sent off a message to The Castle. She had an outstanding meeting to keep; if The Castle had any way of detecting clones now, all the better.

She didn’t expect an answer from them right away. Not with the odd way their pocket dimension worked. They’d have to hook their phones up to The Gadget’s device or head outside before they’d receive her message. Until then, Erika shot off a different message.

The Stalker hadn’t contacted her since she got back in town. Now that Erika knew without a doubt that she was off on some mission, Erika was slightly less surprised. She still thought that The Stalker might have found a few minutes to slip away, but in lieu of that, a text would be welcome. Unless she was off somewhere phones didn’t work, Erika figured she would get something by morning.

Turning around, heading back up the street toward Varn’s, Erika didn’t exactly find herself feeling better. Thinking about people rather than things helped, but she couldn’t shake the slight nervous twitch from her fingers. Maybe if someone had responded and given her something else to think about…

Except she would have ended up talking shop with everyone—everyone except, maybe, The Stalker. It was the same reason she left the little impromptu meeting. She had too much anxiety over the future and not enough living in the moment.

Things had been easier when she had been flying by the seat of her pants.

For a moment, Erika considered simply not thinking about anything. She could barge into The Monk’s little party and handle whatever he threw at her. She could go alone to the snowfield and just kneecap anyone familiar. Her bullets could handle the gods. Everything would work out.

Then, she thought again. She saw the consequences of acting without thinking with the Final Judge. If it had been any more interested in keeping her there, she doubted she would have been able to walk away so easily.

Sighing, she opened the arcade door, let the heavy bass wash over her, and walked right past Daniel without him noticing for a second time. “Back,” she said, dropping into her seat. “Alright. I have a new proposition: We fuck up The Monk. Attempt three.”

“The Monk?” Rick asked. “What about the portal?”

“I’m down,” Delilah said without consulting Nya first, getting a surprised look from both. “What? He messed up my life. It’s his fault… I mean, my life was already messed up, but like, he made it worse.”

“Fair enough,” Erika said, shrugging before turning back to Rick. “It is definitely on the list, but I had a little think out there: this is endless. The Mummy has more aspects than I can or care to deal with. But The Monk is the one pushing.” Erika waved her hand toward Delilah. “Nya said that, if we kill him, it’ll be at least a hundred years before he pops up again, right? We get rid of him, then we can take our time dealing with everything else.”

It had nothing to do with her wariness over what might be out in that snowfield.

Absolutely nothing.

“So, The Castle had a plan to find him… I say we put that plan into motion.”