《The Knights of Z》 Chapter One: Of Heroes, and Things that go Bump in the Night I couldn¡¯t sleep. The images kept going through my head, over and over again, an eternally revolving circuit; a dog chasing its tail. The tinted light from the street seemed to blaze into my tiny room with the brilliance of a noon sun, but it wasn¡¯t the light of illumination, it was the light of revelation. In this light you could see the truth; you could see where the things in the shadows lurked, the ones that fed on fear. I tried to ignore the book, face down on my nightstand, as I swung my legs out over the edge of the bed. I needed something to knock me out, something to take the edge off the pain. Knock me out? Profound words as I padded into the washroom and looked at my beaten face in the medicine cabinet mirror. My left eye was swollen shut and my split lip was nearly the size of a sausage. ¡°Cut me Mick, just cut me,¡± I mumbled in my best Rocky voice. I would have liked to have ripped off my shirt and howled, ¡°Adrian!¡± but she had left me, but her name wasn¡¯t Adrian it was Ingrid, Ingrid Zoor, a Romanian International student. At first, I found her name funny. Not funny ha-ha, but in the funny peculiar sort of way. Romanian was a romance language originating in the dust left by the marching sandals of Rome¡¯s legions. So, why the Germanic name? Perhaps it was because they were the one people who had stopped the legions, but Romania?. She had looked at me as though I was entirely stupid, which, at times, isn¡¯t far from the truth. ¡°The Seven Saxon cities¡­¡± she said as though this would solve all questions. My vacant expressions prompted her on. ¡°Transylvania?¡± ¡°Oh, Count Dracula, vampires?¡± Her lips tightened begrudgingly. ¡°Yes, vampires, witches¡­and many other things.¡± I let it go at that, because I thought she was tugging on my chain. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, she turned to me. There was a cold blue in her eyes, and I knew I was in trouble. ¡°You have to make choice,¡± she demanded, arms crossed. It was definitely an ultimatum. ¡°It¡¯s not natural, for grown men to dress up in tights and go prancing about campus.¡± Prancing, that had been the proverbial verb that broke my fragile male ego. I defended myself, nobly, using all the polish of my second year rhetoric class. I pointed out that I also had a mask and a cape and that the tights alone did not a hero make. She didn¡¯t like that at all. ¡°Someone is going to kill you. Where I come from, there are many things, dangerous things that live in the dark.¡± I doubted it, but what did I know; I was just a college student having some fun. ¡°Like Vlad the Drac?¡± She didn¡¯t get my reference to the kid¡¯s book printed in the 80s. A strange uncle had given it to me as a Christmas gift and I had listened to it until the tape had irreversibly tightened. I would have preferred someone to have read it to me, but I never knew my mom. Maybe that explained my near pathological need to be around women. I would be the first to acknowledge it; I was in desperate need of mothering. To me it was a natural vacancy to fill. Girls needed to walk home at night, and the panic stations, although functional, didn¡¯t really give the comfort that a real, warm blooded human being could provide. Harlow¡¯s monkey experiment proved that real comfort came in plush fabric and warmth, not in the hard, mechanics of wire and metal. It was one of the reasons I made sure my outfit was also made out of fleece. Girls liked to get close to fleece. All they had to do was text me and I was there. I had even created an app for it, called Major Tom. Just press the little comic version of me and I would get a call. That¡¯s how I met Ingrid. She had thought something had been following her in the bushes, stalking her, and she had pushed her little Major Tom. Later I also found out that we were taking the same mandatory British Literature course.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°I¡¯m just having a good time,¡± I pleaded. ¡°When I show up in my red tights and yellow mask, they laugh. Sometimes they¡¯ve just broken up with their boyfriend and they¡¯re pretty upset, other times they just need an escort home from the pub.¡± ¡°And you console them?¡± she asked looking at me suspiciously, ¡°you in your fluffy outfit.¡± I can read facial expressions pretty well, and I detected a tightening around her eyes. I knew what this was all about. She was jealous. As long as I live, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll figure women out. I thought maybe the truth would work here. So, when I told her that I did console them, her response was a swirling tail wind and a slamming door. I never knew Saxons could be so jealous. My swollen face was a testament to her prophesies that someone was going to try to kill me, well, beat me up anyways. I fingered the eye. ¡°Well, you were right.¡± I had gone out all dressed up in my fluffy spandex glory and got jumped by a number of drunken students. I couldn¡¯t tell who they were, but I suspected they were members of one of the College teams. They were pretty tall, so I was thinking, maybe basketball, but since I was pretty short, everyone looked tall. I quickly assumed a ¡®grass eating¡¯ position as they pummelled me, laughing and making mean jokes about my height. ¡°How¡¯s that Major Tom?¡± said one as he fitted his foot neatly into my ribs. ¡°Say hello to Ground Control,¡± laughed another as he sat on my head and farted. Fortunately my face was buried deep in the grass, but the rotten egg smell still burned. ¡°Stay away from my girl,¡± snapped another trying to hit me in the face, which was a trick since I had it firmly pressed into the grass, but he did catch my lip and right eye. Generally I didn¡¯t hold much weight for Neanderthals like that, and would have, in the light of day, given them some witty retort about having to drag women into his cave by the hair, but now, I had nothing, except pain. Obviously, I had gotten too close to someone¡¯s possession. I doubted very much that guys who went around beating up on people for chuckles knew little about love. It would have gone a lot worse, had not Kam showed up. ¡°This isn¡¯t over, Major Tom,¡± yelled one of the attackers as they laughed and whooped victoriously off into the night, but they were running and that was all that mattered, running from Kam. They were definitely right, it wasn¡¯t over. Short guys like Napoleon and Hitler, never forgot. Not that I was pathologically insane, but they were pretty short, and those two were pretty determined. The one thing we shared was we all had unresolved maternal issues, and that, I could understand. ¡°Geeze, Jay,¡± said Kam. ¡°Are you all right?¡± He helped me to my feet. Kam was a big Hawaiian, who had come to the College to play football. It had been a great career, but when none of the pro teams drafted him, he had to look for other ways to pay the bills. ¡°Do you know who they were?¡± ¡°No.¡± He lifted me up and dusted me off. There was concern on his big, broad face. ¡°Listen, can you stand up?¡± I knocked his hands away, and nearly fell down. ¡°I¡¯m fine, I¡¯m fine,¡± I lied. Kam held up his fingers in front of my face. ¡°How many fingers do you see?¡± Things were a bit blurry, and I was more than angry. ¡°What do you mean, how many fingers do I see? It¡¯s flipping dark, Kam.¡± ¡°Oh, right.¡± He flipped on his flashlight that was the size of a club and blinded me. ¡°Kam, I¡¯m all right. I don¡¯t have a concussion, just a cut lip and probably a black eye.¡± I could hear Kam sucking on his bottom lip. ¡°Listen, I¡¯ve got my buggy just over there. I¡¯ll give you a ride back to your residence, all right?¡± I was about to protest when my knees buckled under me. Getting beaten up was not a great way to maintain one¡¯s self-esteem. Anyway, that¡¯s how I ended up back at my dorm unable to sleep and perplexed about my present state. A hail like sound bouncing off glass drew my attention to my small window. My luxurious one bedroom dormitory had only one window, which fronted the back path that ran adjacent to the canal. It would have been nice except for the big hydro pole that blocked most of the view. I went to the window. Sure enough, there were tiny pebbles on the outside window sill. Opening the window, I stuck my head out just in time to receive some grit in my face. ¡°What the¡­¡± ¡°Sorry,¡± called up Ingrid. ¡°What are you doing down there?¡± ¡°I saw Kam, he¡¯s worried about you. He told me what happened.¡± I felt the burning flush of shame, but shrugged it off. ¡°It¡¯s not as though it¡¯s the first time I¡¯ve been beaten up.¡± She looked worse than I felt, almost as if she had also been beaten up, but in a different way, like from the inside out. ¡°You could come up.¡± She shook her head. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± She looked over her shoulder, off into the night, towards the canal. ¡°I came to warn you. It¡¯s going to get worse. You have to stop going out¡­¡± The hurt, the loneliness, the feeling of abandonment made me want to apologize, to ask her up, but when I went to, she was gone. It was as though she had just vanished. Something black and large moved down by the canal. It was almost as though the darkness from the water had taken a breath, expanded and then, like Ingrid, vanished. In the moment, and how I felt, I was inclined to believe her warning about the danger. Tomorrow, I would apologize to Ingrid. Tomorrow, I would put away my super hero outfit, and plead with her to take me back into her strong, Germanic/Romanian embrace. Chapter Two: Oh, how sweet it is: A Bully gets His. We all feared her, at least the males with half a brain did. Dorothy Zultner was a tenured professor to be reckoned with, and she wasn¡¯t amused that she had been imposed upon to teach the dreaded, mandatory, first year Brit Lit course. She let very little expression show on her sharply chiselled, emotionless face. In a way she looked like a greyhound, sharp and intent. She obviously wanted to be somewhere else because she kept touching her gold plated cigarette case she kept in her chest pocket. It was a sign of her unhappiness. The other thing that I found interesting was that when she taught, she never looked at you. It was as though she was giving a lecture to some distant audience and we, as students, were just in between. Middle aged, she always wore black. Against this, her most strikingly pale skin, stood out. It was so pale that I wondered if she had ever seen the light of day. The way she wore her wavy dark brown hair, shot with a bolt of white, matted to her head, I wondered if she had ever been young. She also had Ingrid¡¯s accent, but more aristocratically evolved: ¡®Hungarian nobility,¡¯ Ingrid had told me in a very reverential way, ¡®very old, very much like the Teutonic Knights.¡¯ I didn''t ask her about that, but it was interesting. She flicked her long fingers, her red nails pointing to a distant spot on the back wall, and began. ¡°So, what can you tell me about our man, Sir Gawain? Was he a hero or was he a naive, imbecilic moron?¡± I was keenly aware of the empty seat beside me, where Ingrid usually sat, and felt a pang of loss. Where was she? She loved this class. In a way I could associate with Sir Gawain, the imbecilic version. ¡°Mr. Jones, what do you think?¡± Dorothy said staring right through me. It was like being struck and held by an intense search light. I felt the flush of blood flooding its heated way up into my face. Evans, a tall square headed fellow off to my left, leaned over to his buddy and snickered. He probably found the name Gawain somewhat amuzing. Then the guy tossed me a smirk, and I knew, just knew, that he had been one of my attackers the other night, and he found my discomfort funny. Dorothy cleared her voice, prompting me. ¡°I think he was a hero?¡± It was a pretty pathetic offering at her academic alter. ¡°And why would you say that?¡± The professor¡¯s voice was not full of acidic scorn, but of mild interest and that gave me some courage. ¡°Well, at the castle, Lady Bertilak was offering herself to Gawain consistently. A normal guy would have given in,¡± I took a breath gaining momentum, ¡°but a hero, only a true hero could withstand the temptation. I mean, to even get him to kiss her, she had to trick him.¡± My square headed attacker coughed into his hands disguising the word ¡®gay.¡¯ His friends around him chuckled. He was brave in a pack, but still; he had run from Kam¡­anybody in their right mind would run from Kam. Dorothy Zultner turned her sharp nose in the direction of the cough, and tapped her gold plated cigarette holder. The entire class went silent, as she looked at him, actually looked at him. I didn¡¯t like what I saw in her eyes and I felt a palpable tension thicken the air. ¡°And you have a better idea, of what makes Sir Gawain a hero?¡± she said slowly, weighing each word perfectly. ¡°What is your name?¡± She considered the air for a moment, waving her fingers as if she had her long stem cigarette cradled between them. ¡°Mr. Evans, is it not.¡± He cleared his throat, taking strength from his friends. Still, they looked like a group of little guppies being circled by a shark. Professor Zultner smiled. Her eye teeth looked exceptionally long. ¡°Well,¡± he said his voice cracking. ¡°A hero takes what he wants. A loser,¡± and he stared at me, ¡°gets beaten up.¡± I discerned a tremor on the professor¡¯s lips. Was that a smile? I had never seen her smile before. ¡°So, what you say, Mr. Evans, is that a hero takes what he wants? I find that refreshingly feebleminded,¡± she drawled. The blow caught Evans on the chin. He looked around for support, but his friends seemed to be examining their shoes. He visibly sank into the seat. ¡°I can tell two things about you, Mr. Evans. One, you have not read the poem, and two, your point of view has the weight of one who is indeed challenged in the places where it counts.¡±Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. The girls in the class, always quicker than most of the boys, giggled. She was good. She was turning the female sex in the class against him and I could tell by the look on his face that he didn''t like it. Professor Zultner dismissed Evans and began to lecture, and we vanished; the back wall of the classroom infinitely more interesting. ¡°It was not just for delight that the author describes the hunt, of the baying hounds, of the clarion call of the horns. It is not for information that he describes the slaughter of the beast, first the deer, then the boar and finally the fox. There is a purpose here, a purpose steeped in blood and guts -- a warning.¡± ¡°A warning,¡± repeated Evans mindlessly. ¡°Yes, a warning,¡± said Professor Zultner, her eyes were on me again. Why not the back wall? ¡°Slaughter was what was waiting for Sir Gawain had he given in to animal side of his nature. Had he slept with Lady Bertilak, he would have been stuck on a spit and roasted like the boar, because, you see, Lord Bertilak was none other than the Green Knight.¡± She was mesmerizing. There was a weight to her words, as though she had been there, had seen the contest, that it had actually happened. I shook my head. That was impossible, on so many levels. ¡°How many times did they play this game?¡± she asked. Evans looked bewildered, so did everyone around him, probably because they weren¡¯t looking very deeply. I heard the door to the lecture hall open. Someone had just come in late, poor soul. Professor Zultner always made an example of those who came late. This time she really was smiling. ¡°Ah, yes. Miss Zoor, glad you could make it. Can you explain the relevance of the number three in Sir Gawain and The Green Knight?¡± I swiveled and caught Ingrid¡¯s eyes. There was a feral intensity in them, like she had been running from something, or someone, and it had just caught her. There was a detonation of something being dropped outside and she started. ¡°We are waiting, Miss Zoor.¡± There¡¯s many ways to say sorry, other than to say sorry, which means the same thing. ¡°The Chinese,¡± I blurted out, ¡°think three is lucky because it sounds like the word for life.¡± Ingrid¡¯s eyes touched me with apprehension. ¡°Four is bad luck, because it sounds like the word for death.¡± ¡°That is something ...that has nothing to do with the poem we are studying,¡± mused Professor Zultner. The class gave a chorus of nervous laughter, not really sure how they could get on the professor¡¯s good side ¨C if she even had a good side, but I had broken the tension. Ingrid¡¯s look melted with gratitude as she made her way to her seat. ¡°Three is a magical number,¡± continued Professor Zultner. ¡°Three times Lady Bertilak tried to seduce our knight. The first two times he came away with a kiss. A kiss he traded with Lord Bertilak for the deer, the boar -- but what of the fox?¡± ¡°She gave him her favour,¡± said Ingrid. ¡°The girdle that would keep him from death.¡± ¡°I must confess," Professor Zultner drawled, ¡°Miss Zoor was late for a reason, a reason that will prove a point, a point of what makes a hero. If you will, Miss Zoor...¡± Ingrid moved down the aisle and I noticed she was carrying a brown package. She handed the package to the professor who took it in a flash of red fingernails. Ripping away the brown paper, she exposed a green scarf of fine linen fabric, and let it fall to the floor. She held it like a flag. Things of importance have always marked their place in time. It was like a sudden breath, a shock that comes with learning something significant. This was a time like that. Everybody, except Evans and his cronies, could feel it. Something vital was about to happen. ¡°He would not sleep with the Lady Bertilak,¡± continued Professor Zultner, ¡°and so, Sir Gawain was awarded the item that would save his life.¡± Evans, still smarting at having been embarrassed was looking for a way to build himself back up. ¡°A scarf? A scarf was going to save his life.¡± Professor Zultner held it out to Evans. ¡°A girdle. It¡¯s a girdle, to be worn around the waist. As long as Sir Gawain wore it, no blade could pierce him. It also marked him as a hero. Who will take it? I offer it to anyone in this room. But be careful this blade has two edges.¡± Evans, the idiot stood up and strode down the aisle. I didn¡¯t like how he was looking at Ingrid. She deserved better. ¡°I¡¯ll take it,¡± he brayed and reached for the girdle. ¡°I will show you how a real hero acts.¡± ¡°No,¡± I shouted standing up. I must have been possessed because it seemed every fibre of my being was in rebellion to common sense. This Evans goon was well over six feet and very muscular. ¡°Mr. Jones?¡± said Professor Zultner raising an eyebrow. ¡°You protest?¡± Ingrid was looking at me in silence, but her eyes were yelling at me to sit down. I strode down the aisle, and up to Evans. The top of my head barely came up to his shoulder. ¡°He¡¯s not a hero.¡± ¡°Why don¡¯t we let the girdle decide,¡± whispered the Professor. Although her face was as cold as ever, her eyes glittered with excitement. ¡°Gentlemen, if you would simultaneously take each end of the scarf...¡± Was it to be a tug of war? If it was, then I was going to lose, but I was determined not to get beaten twice. ¡°How¡¯s your face?¡± snapped Evans. ¡°Hope I didn¡¯t dirty you boot with my blood,¡± I countered. That caught him by surprise like I hoped it would. The plan was while his brain was trying to work things out I would yank the girdle out of his hands. I never got the chance. As soon as we both touched the girdle, electricity seemed to run through it. I felt it tingle through my fingers, curl around the nape of my neck like a dog sniffing me, and then it turned on Evans. A loud crackling sound exploded in the room and Evans went flying through the air only stopping when he hit the wall. He fell to the floor like a sack. I stared horrified at the girdle I alone was holding. ¡°Behold, the hero,¡± whispered Professor Zultner. Ingrid didn¡¯t look happy, and I finally realized why. I, unlike Evans had studied Sir Gawain and The Green Knight. Chapter Three: The Summoning Kam had just gotten off his night shift and was sitting across the table. His Greatfull Dead T shirt was hypnotic in its bright tie-dye colours; teddy bears spiraling down to infinity. His big hands gently cradled his cup. He had big arms, a big face, and a big smile. Everything about him was big, and he nodded at my untouched cup. ¡°`Okole maluna, drink you cacao. It¡¯s good. Best place on campus. It¡¯s also a good place to be seen.¡± When a nearly three hundred pound Hawaiian tells you to drink, you drink whatever he¡¯s offering. I did as Kam suggested, and drank. Its flavour was surprisingly good. ¡°See, feel better?¡± ¡°I wasn¡¯t feeling bad, Kam.¡± I lied. Whenever I was around him I wanted to seem tougher than I really was. He took another long pull gazing at me over the rim of his cup. ¡°Your face doesn¡¯t agree with you.¡± He held up his wall like hand to cut off my protestations. ¡°And I hear things. If you¡¯re thinking on going out again, just let me know when and where, all right.¡± ¡°I think I know who one of my attackers was. He¡¯s in my British Literature course. His name is Evans. I think he plays basketball.¡± Kam shook his head. ¡°White guy, kind of skinny? Bit of a prep? Square head with a dimple in his chin that makes it look like someone¡¯s butt?¡± Everybody to Kam was skinny. ¡°Yes,¡± I said tentatively."That sounds like him, especially the butt part." I knew Kam had delusions of becoming a private investigator and was taking some online course. Kam had a right to be whatever he wanted to be, however he wanted to be something different each week. Last week he had wanted to be an archeologist. I knew concussions could alter the way a person thought... Kam shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s not basketball. I know some white guys that play basketball, but he¡¯s not one of them. Must be volleyball.¡± ¡°Volleyball,¡± I repeated. It sort of made sense. Kam got up and stood staring down at me. I was surprised he was leaving so soon. He usually liked to talk. He waved a big finger at me. ¡°Now, you promise...¡± ¡°I promise to call you if I decide to go out again, scouts¡¯ honour.¡± Kam laughed. He held out his left hand for me to shake and like a fool I tried to use my right hand. ¡°You were never a scout.¡± ¡°Fine, I promise. Where are you going?¡± Kam¡¯s grin was infectious. ¡°Oh, places to be, people to see, that sort of stuff, besides three is a crowd.¡± As he walked away I was able to see past his colourful, Grateful Dead teddy bear shirt and saw Ingrid. She looked a lot better then the last time I saw her. For a moment it looked like she was about to turn around and leave, but then she stepped forward, and in a rush, sat down in Kam¡¯s seat. She stared at me in silence. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± I asked. She didn¡¯t look like she was going to speak any time soon. ¡°Does this have anything to do with the green girdle and Professor Zultner?¡± She nodded. Now we were getting somewhere, but I wasn''t actually sure where that was. I was trying to put the entire episode of Evans flying into the wall, behind me. For some reason he blamed me for his humiliation and was promising a matching set of black eyes for me. Still, she refused to talk and just continued to stare expectantly, very unnatural for someone of Ingrid¡¯s usually pushy disposition. ¡°So, does it have something to do with the duality of the green girdle, how although it save Gawain¡¯s life, it also marked him as dishonest? How, according to the rules of the game, he was supposed to turn the girdle over to Lord Bertilak?¡± Nothing, and then she spoke. ¡°I¡¯m not sure you really understand the rules of the game.¡± She reached into her coat and pulled out a letter and slid it to me across the table. It was an old paper folded and sealed with a blob of red wax. I had seen this stuff in movies, not for real. Hind sight is perfect, and had I been paying attention to the little inner voice that was now screaming at me not to touch it, I would have raced out of there, but I didn¡¯t. Instead I touched the embossed seal. ¡°What is that? A cross?¡± ¡°The order of the Teutonic Knights, but they are different now...not the way they were.¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. I picked up the envelope and turned it around, examining it. The wax felt smooth but hard beneath my fingers. ¡°What do you mean? As the way they were.¡± ¡°They are now much like...¡± she tried to find the words but failed. ¡°Like the funny ones with the fez caps that march in parades and wave around practice swords.¡± I knew exactly what she was talking about, but they weren¡¯t marching around in parades anymore. Most of them rode on plush seated wagons and waved liver spotted hands. There would be no sword play for those octogenarians. ¡°Shriners, you mean, the Shriners. I used to love those guys when I was a kid. They sponsored circuses.¡± Ingrid nodded. ¡°Yes, very much like the Teutonic Knights, but without the circuses.¡± Holding up the letter I examined it against the light. ¡°So, this is a letter from the Teutonic Knights?¡± ¡°No, it is from Professor Zultner. It is a letter ¨C for both of us.¡± ¡°Both of us?¡± She continued to stare at me expectantly. ¡°But you want me to open it?¡± She nodded, but when I went to break the wax seal she reached across the table and grabbed my hand. ¡°You must use this to open the seal.¡± With that, Ingrid handed me a small sharp dagger, point first. ¡°Careful with that, you could poke someone¡¯s eye out.¡± I placed my hand over hers, glanced about surreptitiously pushing the blade to the table. ¡°You¡¯ve got to be careful. Somebody might think you¡¯re trying to stab me. You¡¯re likely to get us both arrested and expelled. Where did you get a knife like that...wait, let me guess, Professor Zultner. You know, the more I find out about Zultner the less I like.¡± ¡°You must open the letter with the blade. It is how it is done,¡± she said in such a matter of fact way that she gave the impression that everyone would know this. ¡°So, what is in the letter is for both of us?¡± I asked. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°But what if we don¡¯t like what¡¯s in it?¡± A bewildering look flooded into her eyes. ¡°But it is already started...¡± she blurted out. Her expression was so distraught that I squeezed her hand in an effort to comfort her, forgetting that she was holding the dagger. She gave a sharp gasp of pain and I saw small drops of blood pooling onto the envelope. Then something strange happened. The paper seemed to absorb the red blood and restore itself to its old sepia colour. She placed her cut finger to her lips. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I stuttered and grabbed a paper napkin for her finger. ¡°I didn¡¯t know it was so sharp. I thought it was just some fancy letter opener.¡± ¡°No, it is very sharp. It has to be.¡± She nodded at the letter. ¡°We should go somewhere, somewhere private where you can open it.¡± I didn¡¯t mention the vanishing blood, or the growing feeling that we were being somehow observed. We walked down from the cafe, across the road and away from the rail transit. The fresh scent and soothing sound given off from the running water of the brook massaged the tension out of our bodies. We sought refuge on the grass beneath the pedestrian bridge that spanned the water. The letter lay on the grass between us. ¡°So, you really want me to open this?¡± I asked hesitantly. ¡°You saw what happened when you bled on the letter, didn¡¯t you.¡± It was more a statement than a question. She nodded. ¡°It is how you open it.¡± I scratched my head which was beginning to swim. ¡°What do you mean? It¡¯s how you open it. But it¡¯s not open.¡± ¡°No,¡± she pulled out the dagger again and placed it on the grass between us. I was loath to touch it. There was something dark about the thing that disquieted me. ¡°The letter needs the blood of the two.¡± The hairs on the nape of my neck tingled as though someone was reaching for me, with murderous hands, out of the dark. Hands that were about to wrap their fingers around my neck. I knew the presence of a group of students that ran around at night, meeting in circles beneath the moon, whispering their spells, desecrating sacred places and such: you know, just common extra-curricular stuff. There was a noise behind us like somebody purposely rustling a bush. I twisted around and looked. Nothing. ¡°You don¡¯t belong to the Bat People Association, do you?¡± She shook her head somberly, eyes wide, a little offended. ¡°No, I am not one of them.¡± I gazed down at the sealed envelope. Innocuous in itself, couched against the green grass, but now it seemed somewhat sinister. I tentatively picked up the dagger and was surprised. ¡°It¡¯s warm.¡± Ingrid nodded. ¡°It senses that its purpose is about to be fulfilled.¡± Once when I was a kid I had the opportunity to visit a circus. We had gone behind some curtains, and there, practicing throwing knives at a pretty girl spread out against a target, was the hairiest man I had ever seen. His black hair from his head and beard made no sign of stopping at the nape of his neck but continued to advance down his back and chest. He even had hair on the backs of his hands. Strangely enough he turned to me, just me when he had an entire class of kids to choose from, and handed me one of the knives. ¡°There you go, kid. Give it a toss.¡± ¡°What if I miss?¡± He winked at me. ¡°I¡¯m hoping you will. Don¡¯t worry about it. The knives have a will of their own. I can tell they like you. If you tell them not to hit the pretty lady, they won¡¯t.¡± I had thrown the knife only because all the kids were staring at me and I wanted to seem cool. Fortunately, I had missed the pretty lady, and the hairy fellow had given me a pat on the back. For a moment, just as the knife left my hand, I had indeed asked the knife to miss. The knife had felt warm. ¡°It¡¯s listening to me,¡± I whispered to myself, caught up in the moment. Then suddenly I felt Ingrid¡¯s fingers were on my hand. I felt a sharp prick and watched as a pearl of crimson blood beaded out against my skin. It hung there for a moment. I looked at Ingrid questioningly and let her guide my hand. The drop fell directly onto the letter. It splattered out and then vanished. A strange smoke rose from the wax seal and the embossed cross was consumed by liquid wax. The letter sprung open. I went to wipe off my finger, but it was no longer bleeding: Just another strange thing. I was hoping that whatever was inside the letter would help clear up the many questions. I held it out to Ingrid. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we read it together, after all, it has both our blood.¡± I meant to be funny, but it just sounded creepy. I wouldn¡¯t have been able to understand it anyways, not because it was written in large gothic letters, but because it was in German. As Ingrid read the words, they swam before my eyes becoming transformed into English. ¡°The evil once thought contained has escaped. The Knights that have slept have been summoned. The battle that once drenched the land in blood begins again.¡± Dorothy Zultner, The Priestess and Flame Barer of The Knights of Z. Chapter Four: Darkness Playing the hero was one thing, being one was quite another. Dressing up in a cape and tights and leaping to the aid of fair maidens was a delusion. It¡¯s why I enjoyed it, but this letter, the dagger, the blood, and Ingrid, had brought everything to such a realistic level that it left me decidely uncomfortable. I had expected Professor Zultner to say or do something, but it was as though nothing had happened. We finished off Sir Gawain and The Green Knight and were barreling through the blood and guts of ''Beowulf'', when Professor Zultner paused to consider some fine point we had missed. Dorothy seemed to have a pen chance for gore. Evans was inconspicuously absent, which by me, was fine. Ingrid and I were not sure how we should treate each other. Either the events of the last few days were going to drive us together or apart. Which way was the silent question on our minds. We were both afraid to voice it, because if we did we might have to answer it. At the root was how exactly did we fit into the letter¡¯s message. I was sitting a few rows away from her and was examining her tightly braided blond hair. My eyes followed the intimate curves of the braid. She had woven something green into her hair, a thin piece of fabric. Professor Zultner droned on, her voice drawed out in long, aristocratic vowels. ¡°Mr. Jones, can you explain it?¡± Her voice snapped me rudely out of my idyll. ¡°Sorry, I wasn¡¯t paying attention.¡± With Dorothy, telling the truth was always the best option. ¡°How was it possible to swim dressed in full chain mail?¡± she repeated. Was this the prompt both Ingrid and I were expecting, the prompt that would tie us with the letter and what she wanted us to do next? ¡°Maybe he was swimming in something other than water..." I said lamely. "Maybe it was some other dimension he had entered into. I mean, how could he dive down to the bottom of the sea, fight it out with Grendel¡¯s mom, all the while holding his breath?¡± Zultner looked immensely bored. She tapped her gold cigarette case and looked at her wrist watch. She smiled at me. ¡°Saved by the clock; while your idea has some substance, may I suggest you collaborate with Miss Zoor and come up with a more plausible theory. Meet me in room 102 in the dungeon tower. Let¡¯s say, Thursday? Good. As for the rest of you I will expect your well crafted thesis ideas next Friday. I would like to stay, but I have a pressing appointment.¡± And with that Professor Zultner banished us by taking long vigorous strides up the aisle and out of the lecture hall. She had given us our prompt. The students drained away, but we remained until we were alone. Ingrid was staring forward refusing to turn around. I cleared my throat, but still she didn¡¯t move. Then I noticed that her head and shoulders were slightly trembling. She was crying. With that realization I was propelled into the seat next to her. I touched her arm and the shivering stopped. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± She turned to me, her cheeks wet and stained with tears. ¡°I really like you,¡± she confessed. ¡°I was hoping...¡± I gave her a confused smile. ¡°I really like you to. So, you like me, and I like you. I suppose...¡± I leaned in to kiss her. With that, she was out of her seat and backing away from me as though she had been shocked. "What is it?¡± She just backed away, eyes wide like a hunted deer, until she reached the aisle where she turned and sprinted for the exit. I was left thoroughly confused. In Beowulf¡¯s world things were simple. Bad guys were monsters that ripped people apart and ate them. Good guys hunted the monsters and killed them. I wanted to yell out after her...but what was the sense. She was gone. That night, I turned on my Major Tom app and prepared for action. I can¡¯t explain it, but whenever I had troubles like these I sought solace in some sort of self-destructive behaviour. Because the swelling in my face was down substantially I was able to easily put on my yellow and red mask. Part of me knew I was going to run into Evans and his gang tonight, but I didn¡¯t really care. I looked out the window. There was darkness out there. It was as though every particle of air had been filled up to the brim and could hold no more. I took a deep breath. On the other side of the glass the sentient darkness was waiting. Picking up my phone I texted Kam. I had promised him, so I thought I better come good. ¡®Going out...'' Just then came my first call. Little Major Tom was jumping up and down on my screen, his jet pack sputtering away. In the first moments of my answer, I felt the darkness coming in through the phone. ¡°Jay...is this you, Jay...¡±This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. I knew the voice. It was Ingrid¡¯s and by her tone, she sounded in trouble. ¡°Ingrid, what¡¯s going on? What¡¯s wrong?¡± ¡°It¡¯s after me. You have to help me...¡± Her voice was broken, interrupted by jarring sounds. She was trying to get away from someone or something. ¡°Where are you?¡± ¡°I¡¯m behind the Complex. I¡¯m going to try to make it to the panic station...¡± I wanted to swear, but that wouldn¡¯t have helped. If there was one place on campus that was the most dangerous, the place most likely for an attack, it was the path behind the Complex. It was bordered by a thick stand of pines on one side and the tall wall of the building on the other. The lights there were in permanent need of repair. Nobody could explain it. From the point of instillation to expiration, the lights lasted about one week. As a result physical facilities just didn¡¯t bother repairing them. It left a zone of darkness. ¡°I¡¯m coming.¡± My phone vibrated with an incoming text. It was Kam. I was only able to text B-C... in before running out of my dorm and down the hall, my caped flapping heroically behind me. I jumped on my bike because I knew it would take too much time to run the distance. My bike was old and rusted and I kept it that way on purpose. Nobody steals a dilapidated bike. Squeaking down the road, I jumped the curb and headed off over the grass. Time is a funny thing when the adrenalin is pumping, you lose track of it. I really don¡¯t know how long it took, but I dumped the bike and ran into the dark behind the complex. As was expected the main light was burned out. Off in the distance, catching the pool of light from the parking lot was the panic station. I ripped off my mask. ¡°Ingrid,¡± I yelled. There was no response, nobody moved in the darkness, but something was there, waiting, and like a fool, I ran towards it. Off to the side of the path was a darker blotch that looked like someone kneeling on the grass hunched over. Somehow I knew the dark form was ontop of Ingrid. I had to act quickly. I yelled and hurled myself right at the form. With incredible speed the thing moved to the side avoiding me. I flew through the air hitting the ground. Clumsily I rolled up, fists clenched. Nothing. Whatever had been there a moment ago was gone. Ingrid was still curled up in a protective foetal ball. I touched her shoulder. She was so very cold. ¡°Ingrid, are you all right?¡± Much to my relief she gave a slight moan. At least she was alive. A dry rasping sound like bones being rubbed together issued from the pines. Then I realized it was laughter, the bone sounds were laughter. I fumbled about, standing over Ingrid, horrified. The hair on the back of my neck was vibrating. ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡± I yelled trying to keep my voice from wavering. I scanned the edge of the pines but couldn''t see anything, but it was out there, watching. Another sound echoed in the woods. It wasn¡¯t one voice but the sound of many voices. I had heard something like it only once before. It was a pack of coyotes. One would begin and then the others, in a chaotic chorus would join in. It would rise in crescendo and then suddenly stop. It was like being driven to the edge of a cliff and then left hanging. ¡°What do you want?¡± I yelled. Ingrid was regaining consciousness. Then I saw them, red dots in the woods, several of them moving, bobbing, close to the ground. There was a snuffling noise as if they were scenting us out. They were wary, but part of me could sense the hunger, their desire to attack, to kill, but something was holding them back. Slowly a large figure detached itself from the woods and began to glide towards me. It was the thing I had tried to tackle, but now it was standing upright and it looked rather imposing. The red eyes seemed to gather around it. Ingrid was on her knees. It was then that I noticed the blood on her neck. ¡°We must get away. It is all ready too powerful,¡± she said intently. ¡°What is it?¡± I asked, my mouth going dry. ¡°Dra Ullah...the Dragon...bad blood. We have to get out of here, now...¡± She was standing and I could see the pain in her face. ¡°Are you all right? You¡¯re bleeding.¡± ¡°I am?¡± she touched her neck and when she saw the blood on her hands, her eyes widened. I thought she was going to pass out, but she stabilized herself by grabbing my arm. ¡°Gerald, undo my hair.¡± I hesitated and she shouted at me. ¡°Now!¡± As I tugged at her braid, the form at the lip of the pines and the red eyes were starting to make a strange keening sound. I tugged her hair lose. ¡°Now pull out the green cloth.¡± It felt familiar and then I realized that the strip of cloth was of the same material that Sir Gawaine¡¯s girdle was made from. ¡°Is this¡­¡± I started. ¡°Wrap it around your right hand,¡± she instructed. As I wrapped it around my hand I noticed that she was doing the same thing with her left hand. Wecontinued until our hands touched. The shade, or whatever it was began to move towards us across the grass. ¡°You know,¡± I mumbled, ¡°If we have to run having our hands tied like this is going to make it difficult.¡± ¡°We¡¯re not running,¡± she said defiantly glaring across the grass, ¡°not anymore.¡± ¡°Ah, well ¨C I hope you know what you¡¯re doing, because you weren¡¯t doing so well just a moment ago.¡± ¡°That was before you got here.¡± I was flattered, but I really didn¡¯t know how much good I was going to be against the things that were coming at us. The red eyes were now swirling around the dark figure, buzzing like so many angry insects. Part of me was glad that they weren¡¯t the eyes of wolves, but then¡­red hot killer bees wouldn¡¯t be any better. ¡°What is it?¡± ¡°I think you¡¯ve already asked that question,¡± she said tersely. I was glad to have my stern, Saxon princess back. It was clear she was going to fight, but I had no idea how, or what we were going to fight with. Just then a pair of high beams bounced across the grass blinding us. It was Kam in his ¡®buggy¡¯ which was nothing other than a glorified golf cart. He pulled up beside us and scanned the dark. ¡°Let me suggest, you get in, now, before it comes back.¡± When I looked, the dark form was gone. ¡°You saw it?¡± I asked in disbelief. ¡°Yeah, of course I saw it. I¡¯ve been protecting the two of you from it for the last month.¡± Chapter Five: So, let me get this straight -- the last guy died? The Dungeon Tower was the strangest building on campus. When someone mentions the word ¡®Tower,¡¯ the conjured images are those of buildings shooting into the heavens. When the word ¡®Dungeon¡¯ is used, it¡¯s a descent into the pits of some torture labyrinth. Put them together and you get ¨C confusion. Legend had it that the building¡¯s name was coin by some quirky University President, who, as he was descending in the elevator said, ¡®This is like going up in a Tower, but just downwards, into a Dungeon.¡¯ And because everyone wanted to please the boss, Dungeon Tower stuck. When Professor Zultner had told us to visit her in room 102 in the Dungeon Tower, I thought it rather strange. The tower was, principally the domain of the Science department. What was a Humanities Professor doing lurking around in the deepest level of the dungeon, where particle physics experiments were conducted? I couldn¡¯t imagine anyone ever saying no to her, especially the emotionally challenged science profs. Kam was leading the way through one of the many tunnels that criss-crossed the entire campus. I never asked why they had been built in the first place, but I suspected that maybe it had something to do with the cold war. Once upon a time people believed everything would be all right, if during a nuclear attack, they could stay underground. They were a bit dillusional, because a nuclear holocaust would make life above ground impossible. We were all silent and in a contemplative mood. The idea of meeting Professor Zultner was rather daunting, especially in a dungeon. ¡°So, Kam, how long have you been working for Dorothy?¡± Kam slowed his pace until he was ambling along beside us. He gave us both a big, reassuring smile. ¡°Some time. You don¡¯t have to be worried, you know. The High Priestess is rather nice.¡± ¡°The High Priestess?¡± ¡°It was her title,¡± said Ingrid, ¡°In the old days.¡± ¡°I suppose that depends on how old she is. She doesn''t look over sixty." Niether of them answered. "How old is she, really?¡± I hedged the question trying not to sound too interested. Kam shrugged. ¡°As old as she needs to be.¡± As old as she needs to be? What was that supposed to mean? A person is usually a certain age, or they¡¯re dead, there are no if, but, or wherefores about it. I squeezed Ingrid¡¯s hand and she squeezed back. That was a good sign. Whatever we were going to face, we were going to face it together. ¡°You mind me asking?¡± I began. ¡°What was the bit with the green cloth tying our hands up back there?¡± ¡°It bonds us together. Alone, we are weak, but together we may have been able to stand before it.¡± The remembered image of the glowing red eyes and the black figure rising up in front of me made my breath quickenl. ¡°Speaking of ¡®It¡¯ what was ¡®It?¡¯ ¡°The Darkness before Time,¡± said Kam casually as though his experience had made him far to familiar. ¡°And even tied together I¡¯m not too sure you would have lasted very long. You see, that¡¯s what has the High Priestess steaming; somebody or something has accelerated the process. This is happening all too quickly.¡± Almost on queue the Mayor Tom app went off. I fumbled with the phone and shut it down quickly. I apologized to whoever it was, but they would have to make it home on their own tonight. That being said, I wasn''t exactly sure we were going to make it home. There was a dark feeling, creeping along behind us, almost as if it was following us. I didn''t say anything because I wasn''t sure. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I still don¡¯t really see my roll in this whole thing.¡± Kam and Ingrid shared a knowing look, and I immediately felt isolated. ¡°What, you two know what¡¯s going on, and you''re keeping it to yourselves. That¡¯s not really fair,¡± I said plaintively. ¡°It¡¯s not our place to tell you,¡± said Kam. ¡°You didn¡¯t really take the security job because you could get work as a football player did you? You took it because...¡± ¡°Because we are who we are. The High Priestess will explain.¡± That was the part I was actually dreading. We went into the entrance foyer of a unassuming two story, red brick building. In front of us stood an elevator, stainless steel doors looking rather daunting. There were no buttons on the front panel, only a flat screen. At the bottom of it was a semi-circular piece of plastic, much like a cup that had been cut in half. ¡°Just place your chin on it,¡± instructed Kam, ¡°and don¡¯t blink.¡± Something inside me shut down. I don¡¯t know what it was, whether it was the thought of Professor Zultner waiting in some dungeon far below, or a girl friend that was acting really odd, or a friend who turns out to be some bizarre protector of the universe, but I refused to put my chin in the cup. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I need some answers, and I need them now before I go any further.¡±This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Kam pursed his lips and Ingrid looked frightened. After a moment of consideration, he gave his head a stiff nod. ¡°Suppose you need to know something. It was the same when I was recruited.¡± ¡°You were recruited?¡± ¡°Sure, it¡¯s how we all end up doing what we do.¡± ¡°Well, that¡¯s the thing. You¡¯re going to have to tell me what it is we are supposed to be doing, if you want me to go any further.¡± Kam with a rather perplexed look on his face as he ran a hand down the back of his head to massage his neck which he cracked. He had done this when playing, just before leveling an opponent. ¡°Well, that¡¯s supposed to be the High Priestesses job...¡± ¡°Hey, I understand. Listen I do. Dorothy scares the tar out of me as well.¡± I was hoping that doubting his courage would get him to reveal more information, but I misread Kam. ¡°We¡¯re in the same boat there. I don¡¯t know if I can describe it aptly. Ingrid, I think this is your forte.¡± Ingrid nodded refusing to meet my eyes. She looked more than a bit guilty. ¡°Every so often there is this...this darkness that hides in the earth, in the dark places of the world. Every so often this black miasma comes forth to kill, to destroy. It is madness. You understand?¡± ¡°When it¡¯s in hibernation, there aren¡¯t many of us, only The High Priestess,¡± continued in Kam. ¡°When it comes out of hibernation, then, Guardians, like me, are the first ones to be activated. Until then we are just living normal, desperate lives. Then come the Pen and the Sword.¡± ¡°Pen and the Sword? What do you mean?¡± It sounded frightfully literary. ¡°You two,¡± said Kam. Something moved in the darkness outside the front door we had entered. It was like the flitting shadow of something. ¡°TU Kai!¡± exclaimed Kam who suddenly tackled us and threw us both to the floor. Just then the glass on the front entrance shattered and shards shot everywhere. In howled a cold wind. It was so so focused that it felt like it was targeting us. Kam hauled us to our feet. His face was dark and intense and suddenly I understood why people hated playing against him. ¡°You¡¯re going to stick your chin in that,¡± he motioned to the key device, ¡°now!¡¯ I was still staring at the door, something dark was hovering just outside, apparently, it was trying to figure out how to get in. Just about to thrust my chin into the cup, the direction button on the panel beside it flashed red. Something was coming up. Kam pulled me back and stepped in front of both Ingrid and myself, protecting us from whatever was coming. The stainless steel doors open and out staggered Dorothy Zultner. Her robes were in tatters, and smoke fumed from her hair. Her face was covered in soot and her eyes had a wild desperate gleam to them. It was as though she had just run some type of fire gauntlet and the mob that was trying to kill her was just behind. The bride of Frankenstien. She coughed and reached out with a claw like hand and grabbed my cape. ¡°We¡¯ve been compromised. We¡¯ve got to get to the safe house.¡± and then she nearly collapsed in a fit of coughing. ¡°They¡¯re out front,¡± said Kam. ¡°To the roof,¡± snapped Zultner who stumbled away from the lift, through a door and into a stair well. Being only a two story building, it didn¡¯t take us long to reach the roof. Kam led the way up to a scaffolding that had been set up on the outside of the building. In front of us was a big yellow fabric chute that had been installed for the workers to deposit debris in the bin below. Without hesitation Kam jumped, a shoosh followed and then a dull thump, a moment of silence, then, ¡°It¡¯s all right. Jump.¡± Zultner was still coughing as she placed her hand on Ingrid¡¯s back and guided her into the chute. ¡°You¡¯re turn,¡± she grated, her voice sounding extremely sore. I hesitated. Part of me was desperate to get away from what was hunting us, but another part wanted to make sure everyone was safe. The door we came through was starting to rattle. Whatever was on the other side was just about to break through. We were both looking at the door. ¡°This is no time for heroics.¡± With surprising strength, Zultner stepped into the chute, grabbed my cape and dragged me down after her. Kam was wrong about the landing. It wasn¡¯t all right, the debris of broken wood and drywall didn¡¯t make for a nice, cushy landing. It was rather painful. Then Kam was dragging us out of the bin and we were running. The Professor had regained her strength and was leading the way. With her keys out, she pressed the button and the lights of a small car, in an almost abandoned parking lot, flashed to life. Kam stuffed us in the back and then squeezed his sizable bulk into the passenger side. Professor Zultner turned the car on and with wheels squealing, she burned out of the parking lot. It wasn¡¯t until we were well away from campus and the normal buzz of traffic surrounded us in its dashing, metallic intensity that I felt the tension in the car relax slightly. ¡°What was that?¡± I asked. ¡°You don¡¯t want to know,¡± said Kam who was constantly scanning as though he expected to be followed. ¡°No,¡± drawled Zultner. The aristocrat in her voice had returned. She glanced up into the rear view mirror as she passed several cars and then had to slow down for a set of red lights. ¡°Under normal circumstances, we would have had time to initiate you." The traffic started to move again and we rolled on.. ¡°I think we¡¯ve lost it,¡± said Kam, relief showing on his face. ¡°The lights of the traffic and the buildings will have slowed it, but it¡¯s still out there, hunting us.¡± ¡°Why is it hunting us?¡± I thought it was an appropriate question. ¡°If it can kill us, before we are bonded,¡± said Ingrid as though she was remembering something exceedingly horrible, ¡°there will be nothing to stop it. Stopping this city from sinking into an apocalypse of death and destruction,¡± said Ingrid. ¡°You¡¯ve seen this before, haven¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Back home, when Chechesque was in power, hundreds, thousands of people died,¡± her voice was small but the covert glances from Zultner and Kam made her simple statement grave. My head was spinning. Chechesque? The Romanian dictator? ¡°That was in the sixties.¡± Then I realized, suddenly with a startling clarity. ¡°Ingrid, how old are you?¡± Zultner was pulling up to the front of a very large building that seemed to be made entirely of glass. ¡°It is not polite to ask a lady her age,¡± she admonished me. Kam twisted about and flashed me with a big Polynesian smile. ¡°I know you¡¯re going to find this hard to accept, but Kam is short for Kamehameha.¡± ¡°The Hawaiian King Kamehameha? He lived over two hundred years ago.¡± ¡°I¡¯m impressed,¡± he said. Most people don''t know anything about my home. ¡°So am I, about how old you are,¡± I said weakly, then a dark question leered up in front of me and I had to ask it. "If you''re all so old, what happened to the last person that did my job, whatever that is?" Ingrid was staring off into the distance. "He died." Chapter Six: The Bonding I looked out the window of the Professor¡¯s frosted compact car and the insanity of everything hit me. I knew we were running from something, but I wasn¡¯t exactly what it was. It was big, dark, had a lot of red eyes and could bust glass, which didn¡¯t bode well for the building in front of us. The glass edifice was massive, and brought to mind philosophers that created glass castles they could never live in. It soared defiantly into the dark sky daring the elements to cause it to come crashing down. If there was one thing I was certain of it was not to bet against the elements, they could beat you every time. International students were an example in point. One fellow from Kenya insisted on wearing sandals all year. He was quite surprised at the excruciating pain caused by frost bite and of thawing toes. ¡°Are you sure it¡¯s a good idea...¡± I began. Kam was scanning the surrounding area for impending doom; when he was sure there weren¡¯t any black specters lurking behind the hedges, he called out, ¡°All clear professor.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a different type of glass,¡± said Professor Zultner striding towards the building¡¯s large entrance. ¡°Keep up.¡± She seemed to be able to read my thoughts: glass buildings always shattered. Ingrid had gone almost catatonic, unable to say anything, her large eyes screaming out a pain big enough for the world. Frankly, I didn¡¯t know what to do, but I did want to help, to reach out and take her hand, and comfort her, but just as I was about to do so, the whispering tendrils of a cold breeze touched us. ¡°It¡¯s coming,¡± shouted Kam. ¡°Get to the building, now!¡± We ran for the entrance. Panting, we watched the large doors as an old guard, with his forge cap tilted rakishly on his head, struggled to open them. Then I realized not everybody had made it. ¡°Ingrid!¡± I shouted turning back. She was standing beneath the massive, long legged sculpture of a spider. How had she gotten there? With her pale hair whipping about, and her standing passively, she looked small and frightened. Did one of the spider¡¯s legs move? The wind fell down on us and I ran, twisting cape pulling hard on my throat, making it hard for me to breathe. ¡°Ingrid, are you all right?¡± I shouted trying to be heard through the wind that was now howling about us. She was still staring upwards, immobilized. Slowly, I tilted my head up and saw what she was frozen by. The spider had eyes, glowing red eyes. A hiss sounded, and then there was something shooting down towards us, cutting through the air, and Kam knocked us out of the way. Grabbing the web he wrapped it around his forearm and pulled back on the spider which was trying to reel him in. ¡°Take her,¡± he shouted, ¡°get her to the building!¡± Then one of the spider¡¯s legs lashed out and stabbed through my cape. I fell like a rag doll, and was dragged wherever the leg went. Thankfully after a few jerks the cape tore free. Kam had successfully used the web to tangle up the spider¡¯s other legs. The spider was having difficulty standing up right. It hovered above us and began to fall. Ripping himself free from the web, Kam grabbed me by what remained of my cape and dragged me free. The spider, in a great groaning sound, crashed to the ground. And suddenly the wind was gone. Off in the distance, I heard the wail of police sirens. ¡°Where¡¯s Ingrid?¡± I croaked rubbing my neck. ¡°I told you capes were a stupid idea,¡± said Kam testily. ¡°I thought you got her free?¡± ¡°No, the spider got in the way.¡± Professor Zultner and the security guard were standing over us. The latter was speechless and staring in horror at what remained of the giant spider. Some sculpter was going to be seriously upset. The sirens were closer now sounding all around us. The professor went to grab at what remained of my cape. ¡°Not the cape!¡± I cried out. ¡°Don¡¯t touch the cape!¡± ¡°Silly boys,¡± she spat out. ¡°Now the police are involved. Get in the car.¡± ¡°What about Ingrid?¡± I asked. ¡°It¡¯s too late for that now, it has her. I need to think. I need to think about how we can get her back.¡± She tossed Kam the keys. ¡°You, drive.¡± Kam stared at the keys like he had just won a great prize. If things hadn¡¯t been so dire, I think he would have smiled, as it was, he just gave a terse nod. There was a reason they only let Kam drive the security golf cart around campus; he had wrecked every vehicle they had given him. It wasn''t because he was a bad driver. It was because he only knew one speed, extreemly fast. ¡°Stupid boys,¡± muttered Professor Zultner. ¡°It was simple, rescue the girl, get into the building, get to the safe house, simple!¡± Then she turned to the security guard who was still staring at the remains of the spider. He looked as though he was about to cry. ¡°You know what to say?¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. The old guard rubbed his head with a gnarled hand. ¡°I¡¯ll think of something. You better go before they see this.¡± We piled into the car. The massive Kam in the driver¡¯s seat caused the vehicle''s suspension to groan in protest. He almost crushed my legs when he slid the seat back. ¡°Sorry,¡± he appologized as he inserted the keys into the ignition. The car roared to life as he revved the engine and slammed the gear shift into second and popped the clutch. The wheels on the little car squealed and spun before they caught traction against the pavement. In a plume of smoke and with the scent of burnt rubber we fish tailed away from the gallery. ¡°You know, you might want to not drive so fast. The police might think you¡¯re running away from them.¡± My caution fell on deaf ears. Kam turned down a one way street and ran a stop sign. Fortunately there was nobody in our way as he turned onto the Park Way and surprisingly slowed down. Zultner had the tips of her fingers pressed to her temple and her eyes were closed. ¡°Where do you think It took Ingrid?¡± I asked. Kam gave me an admonishing glance in the rear view mirror. She¡¯s trying to figure that out. Zultner, in frustration, waved her hands about the air as though trying to swat at some invisible bugs. ¡°It is impossible. I can¡¯t track it. It¡¯s as though it has changed somehow.¡± It was a scratching sensation, as though someone was etching away at the black walls of my mind, each stroke revealing more and more of a picture. My hand started to burn. There was a peculiar rash starting to form on it, especially around my wrist. ¡°My hand.¡± It was a reflex comment. I had not really meant to say anything. Zultner twisted about, eyes boring into me. ¡°What?¡± ¡°My hand is burning. I¡¯m also getting an image.¡± She snapped out of her seat belt, twisted about in her seat and grabbed my hand, pulling it up to her face for examination. ¡°The binding,¡± she said excitedly as though it was something good. ¡°It has all ready taken place. What else do you see?¡± ¡°I see a gym. There are balls...¡± The image was taking shape. ¡°Can you see the floor? Is there anything in the centre of the floor?¡± Asked Kam. I knew where he was going with the question. The home College would have their logo emblazoned there. Find the logo or mascot and you find the place. Then I saw it. It was a black bird, a raven. The vision was of our own campus. Kam turned the cars wheel hard and we turned 180 degrees, the tires spun as he accelerated. ¡°That¡¯s back at campus. What type of balls do you see?¡± ¡°White balls,¡± I said. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of white balls.¡± ¡°Do you see Ingrid?¡± demanded Zultner. ¡°Focus, focus on the green bond.¡± The green bond? Then I remembered the fabric that Ingrid had tied our hands together with and it blazed to light in my mind. The image of the gym vanished, replaced by Ingrid¡¯s unconscious face. Her head was hanging forward, resting on her chest. She was pasted to the wall, spread eagle, her arms and legs pulled taunt. It was as though there were invisible cords tied to her wrists and ankles. She was being pulled apart. ¡°Yes, she¡¯s in a weight room. Something is torturing her.¡± Kam cursed in Hawaiian, and I noticed that Zultner¡¯s face had gone pale. ¡°It is the creature¡¯s way of acquiring power, substance. Through inflicted pain it becomes more corporeal. It''s going to kill her. I fear we may be too late.¡± ¡°Not if I can help it,¡± growled Kam slamming his foot down onto the accelerator. I was surprised it didn¡¯t go through the floor. ¡°I hope you¡¯re not in love with your car, professor, because there isn¡¯t going to be much left of it.¡± ¡°Do whatever you need to do, just get us there,¡± snapped Zultner. As we sped through a red light, we nearly broadsided another vehicle. Leaving blaring horns behind us Kam continued to pass a number of cars, weaving in and out of slower traffic. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± said Kam. ¡°When I lived in Europe I used to be a test driver for BMW.¡± We swerved around the corner into the campus, jumped up over the curb and tore across the grass. Barreling down into the parking lot, Kam spun the wheel causing the car to do two complete revolutions before parking it exactly between two other vehicles. It was amazing. Kam swung the door open and slammed it into the car beside us, setting off the alarm. With the car beebing insecently we ran into the field house. I didn¡¯t know what to expect. Kam waved the concerned guard at the desk away and we ran up the stairs that would take us to the weight room. As soon as we stepped inside, the doors slammed shut behind us and the lights flickered and went out, but before they did I saw a figure, silhouetted against the wall. ¡°Ingrid!¡± Someone moaned in the darkness. Something else moved, or rather slithered across the floor. It caused the hackles on the back of my neck to shiver. ¡°Whatever happens,¡± hissed Professor Zultner, ¡°make your way to her and get her off the wall. Kam?¡± ¡°There¡¯s an electrical panel. I¡¯ll try to reset the switch.¡± Then the hissing was on us and the red eyes flared to life. In red flamed flashes I could see that Professor Zultner was being attacked. They were weaving a web of red trace lines all over her body, as though they were trying to slice her apart, or bind her down. I caught her horrified eyes as they fixed upon me. ¡°Go,¡± she yelled. ¡°Get to her.¡± I stumbled across the gym while the conflict raged behind me. Tripping over something, I fell painfully to the floor. Then the lights came on. They flashed brightly and I couldn¡¯t help but look back. Professor Zultner was nearly covered in a sheath of black tar that seemed to be forming from the buzzing red lights that surrounded her. Kam let out a yell, grabbed a forty pound dumbbell and threw it at the professor. Upon contact the tar like substance shattered it into a thousand shards. ¡°Jay,¡± moaned Ingird. She was alive. Ingrid had torn one of her hands away from whatever had fastened her to the wall. She was reaching for me. The red eyes must have sensed the danger in this, because they gave a terrific buzzing sound and surged towards us. In a moment, I knew they would be on me. Clambering onto a weight bench, I gauged the distance I had to go, and leapt for Ingrid. I sailed through the air reaching for her hand. All around me the red lights flashed, the bees covering us. It was just a matter of time before I was covered in tar, and then our fingers touched. A great green illumination surrounded us and something gave a great echoing scream. Chapter Seven: Im Married! I couldn¡¯t breathe. It was as though an enormous weight was pressing down on my chest, immobilizing me, pushing me deeper into the mattress of my bed. Lights kept flashing, cutting glowing images on the insides of my eyelids. They were images of Ingrid¡¯s face, contorted in agony, of Kam¡¯s rage, of Professor Zultner¡¯s look of despondency when she found out that the ¡®Thing¡¯ was one step ahead of us. Then there was the hissing sound and the red eyes flying everywhere and the black oozing substance. I was trying to cover me, to smother me. With an immense effort, I clawed my way up into consciousness, and sat up in my bed gasping. It was a dream, I thought frantically, just a dream, and then a big figure sitting in a chair in the corner of the room moved. At first I thought it was the Thing, but relaxed when I realized it was just Kam. ¡°Kam?¡± My eyes were blurry so I rubbed the sleep out of them and tried to focus. The big fellow was leaning forward smiling. ¡°You had us all worried.¡± I sat up and noticed that almost every muscle in my body hurt. Reaching up, I rubbed my neck, where I had been dragged along when the spider got its leg hooked on my cape. ¡°It¡¯s true, then, all of it?¡± ¡°It¡¯s true,¡± he paused reinforcing my fear, ¡°all of it.¡± Urgently, I swung my legs over the side of the bed. I wasn¡¯t dressed. ¡°My clothes?¡± ¡°Had to get rid of your outfit, sorry. The Professor is worried that the Thing may have imprinted on it. No costumes for awhile.¡± Kam handed me my housecoat, which I pulled myself painfully into. ¡°Ingrid, is she all right?¡± Kam was smiling. ¡°She''s all right, but I don¡¯t know if you¡¯re going to be all right.¡± I wasn¡¯t in the mood to play games. ¡°Could you just tell me,¡± I said tersely. Kam placed a hand up to his ear and looked at me mischievously. ¡°Is that a shower that I hear?¡± Sure enough, the shower was running. Then I noticed that there was a slight impression in the bed beside me and that the sheets were tangled up in a strange, uncommon way. I didn''t sleep like that. The washroom door opened and out stepped Ingrid, hair and body wrapped up in towels. My mouth fell open. ¡°Well, my job is done here,¡± said Kam in a smug, satisfied sort of way as he backed out the door. ¡°You kids be good.¡± He was gone, leaving me feeling distinctly aware that the only thing between me and Ingrid was my thin bathrobe and a towel. ¡°Ah, well, this is awkward, isn¡¯t it? You feeling all right? I mean it¡¯s not every day that you get attacked by a ¨C ¡®Thing¡¯. You¡¯re here...¡± Ingrid smiled. ¡°I¡¯m glad you noticed.¡± ¡°We slept together?¡± She nodded, a sad expression clouding her face. My heart plummeted. ¡°You didn¡¯t like sleeping with me. I understand...¡± ¡°No,¡± she stepped towards me and let go of the towel which almost fell to the floor. ¡°It¡¯s not like that. It can never be like that...¡± Again, I felt the discomfort of my naked body beneath the bathrobe. ¡°Maybe we should get dressed,¡± I suggested prudently. ¡°I think that would be a good idea. You need to understand a few things about the bonding.¡± So, we had slept together, but I didn¡¯t remember anything. I went to my dresser and grabbed some clothes and stepped into the kitchen. Slipping into my underwear, jeans and T-shirt, I went to the kettle filled it with water and plugged it in. ¡°Do you want any tea?¡± I called into the bedroom. ¡°I¡¯ve got some chamomile.¡± ¡°That would be nice,¡± she called back. As I set the two cups, with their accompanying bags, onto the table, Ingrid stepped into the kitchen. She was wearing the exact same clothes as I was - jeans and a white T-shirt. ¡°Ah, you¡¯re wearing the same clothes as me...wait, those are my clothes...¡± She sat down,straight and stiff, just as the kettle started to steam. I knew the look; it was why I didn¡¯t date. Everything in the relationship would be going along, just fine, and then they would find out things. Like how I was rather obsessive about cleaning, and keeping everything in its proper place. When I had seen the rumpled sheets beside me, I had to immediately suppress the compulsion to make the bed. She was going to break up with me. ¡°I have to explain things to you.¡± ¡°Does it involve that ¡®Thing¡¯ that tried to kill you?¡±Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Does it involve your last boyfriend, who is no longer with us?¡± ¡°Yes. Look, stop asking questions, and just listen.¡± I got up because the kettle began to scream at us, which was appropriate because that''s how I was feeling inside. I carefully poured the water, making sure that the bags were lined up identically and the tea level was the same. ¡°Sorry,¡± I apologized. ¡°Sorry, for what?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know, just sorry.¡± She reached across the table and touched my hand. It was nice, the physical contact, but I jumped, pulling back my hands. It was as though a spark of electricity had leapt from her into me. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of questions that I need answered, like, why are you sleeping here, like we¡¯re married.¡± She picked up the string on the tea bag and proceeded to dip it up and down encouraging the pale yellow of the herb to leech out. Fixing me with her eyes, she shrugged. ¡°Because in a way, we are married. Please, let me explain.¡± ¡°Please, do.¡± I felt it, finally felt the sense that I was going to get answers to some of my questions. ¡°I suppose I should begin with my last partner.¡± She saw me stiffen. ¡°It was a long time ago, a very long time ago.¡± ¡°How long?¡± I asked cautiously. ¡°Over two hundred years.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I still find it hard to believe that you¡¯re over two hundred years old.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a side effect of what we do. You are the Pen and I am the Sword,¡± she explained taking a tentative sip of the tea. ¡°It¡¯s hot.¡± ¡°So, your last partner was also a Pen. Maybe you should tell me everything from the beginning.¡± ¡°All right, from the beginning. You know how the theory of evolution has humanity evolving from one form to another?¡± ¡°I¡¯m familiar with it, yes.¡± ¡°It¡¯s wrong. The earth, as we know it has been subjected to a number of invasions, of settlements from other worlds. The Thing that we fought last night is from one of these invasions.¡± ¡°If it¡¯s an invasion, then there must be others.¡± ¡°It¡¯s like a Queen Bumble bee. When winter comes all the bees die, except the Queen. When summer comes, the Queen emerges and begins to procreate.¡± I was beginning to catch on with what she was saying. ¡°So, winter was for two hundred years, and now, it¡¯s summer?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± She took a longer drink from the chamomile. ¡°So, how did your last partner die?¡± ¡°He wrote the Thing into sleep. It is the Pen¡¯s job, to write the Thing to sleep. If he doesn¡¯t do this, then this species will take over the earth.¡± She held up her hand to stop my next question. ¡°This is hard enough as it is, please let me continue.¡± I took a sip and felt the heat and the relaxing effect of the herb gently massage my screaming mind. Although I wanted to know the truth, I was beginning to wonder if that was such a great idea. ¡°He didn¡¯t have to die, but he got caught. He wasn¡¯t able to get clear of his words and was pulled into the tomb which would contain the Thing. I was responsible for this. I didn¡¯t do my job. I hesitated.¡± I wanted to alleviate the stress she was obviously going through. ¡°I¡¯m sure you tried your best.¡± Her hands curled into fists. ¡°My best wasn¡¯t enough, and now there¡¯s you. What if...what if...¡± I placed my hand over hers but this time, instead of feeling the electricity, I felt her relax. It was almost as though I was able to dissolve the anxiety she was experiencing. It gave me a strange, bubbly feeling. ¡°What does a Sword do?¡± ¡°The Sword, protects the Pen, gives him the time to lock the Thing away, for another two hundred years. What you have to understand is we have never been able to figure out how to destroy the Thing, only put it into a type of stasis.¡± ¡°How does this Thing procreate?¡± ¡°You saw a bit of it in the gym, last night. It covers its victims in a black tarry substance, then it inserts and egg into the host. When the egg matures and takes over the host, the substance melts away. It happens very quickly, minutes.¡± ¡°What does it look like, when it hatches out?¡± ¡°That¡¯s the problem. The creature retains the body of the host, so, had the Thing succeeded with me or the Professor, they would look exactly like us. The only good thing is that it can only do this on Egyptian Days." "What are those?" It was the first time I had heard the term. "Anciently, Egyptian Astrologers identified two days each month that were ''evil days.'' They were called Dies Mali, dismal. Professor Zultner belives this thing has been around a very long time, and people have been fighting it throughout antiquity. Last night was September the third. The next Dies Mali is on the twenty third. Wehave some time before it tries again.¡± ¡°All this is interesting, but it still doesn¡¯t explain why you ended up sleeping in my bed and saying we¡¯re married.¡± I always found Ingrid attractive and now, even more so. She must have read my thoughts because she blushed. ¡°Did you look at the bed?¡± ¡°Did I look at the bed?¡± I repeated. ¡°Should I?¡± She nodded. "It would explian things." I got up and went into the bedroom. Usually, I¡¯m very fastidious about making my bed: tight sheets, hospital corners, pillows placed properly and the duvet fluffed to complete a pleasing scene. When I slept, or was about to go to sleep, I liked the promising visual invitation. Right now, the bed was still a mess. I grabbed the covers and shook them, and that¡¯s when I saw it, the green piece of cloth that Zultner had bound our hands with, the same material that Ingrid wore in her hair. I returned to the kitchen and sat back down in my chair. She was looking at me expectantly. ¡°Why is the green scarf running down the center of the bed?¡± ¡°While it is the thing that binds us together," she began slowly, "it is also the thing that keeps us apart.¡± She continued to look at me expectantly, not wanting to say anything more, waiting for me to figure it out. Then it dawned on me. ¡°So, I¡¯m taking we have to live together?¡± ¡°Yes, the Thing will know that we are the only ones standing in its way between succeeding in repopulating this earth. Besides, you have to learn how to lock the creature back in its tomb and I need to train.¡± ¡°So, we have to sleep together, but we can¡¯t ¨C sleep together...¡± I waited. She nodded. ¡°That is correct. If we were to...then we would break the bond that unites us. You would cease to be The Pen, I would cease to be The Sword, and the earth would be condemned to fall victim to this invasion.¡± ¡°And we have to sleep together?¡± Ingrid nodded. ¡°It is essential. It is the only way for you to learn how to do what you need to learn to do.¡± ¡°And, how long has this been going on?¡± ¡°Ever since the Knights of Z were founded to combat this thing.¡± ¡°The Knights of what?¡± She got up, came around the table bent over and kissed me on the cheek. The smell of her was intoxicating. ¡°We should go; we are going to be late for class.¡± I looked at my watch and realized that we did indeed have a class, Professor Zultner¡¯s class. This was going to be very difficult, but I took sad solace in the fact that Ingrid was The Sword. Hopefully she wouldn¡¯t have to use it on me.