The Hatter is Mad: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Lillim Callina Chronicles Book 2) (2 page)

I grunted and turned my back to him. Halloween was just a few days away, and I doubted that the arrival of the Blue Prince in my sunny subdivision of Southern California was a coincidence. At least… I was pretty sure that this man was the Blue Prince. It was rumored he’d mastered time itself. Which, while an impressive power, didn’t scare me all that much.

What scared me was that the Blue Prince had, supposedly, been burning through hosts like there was no tomorrow. If he was here and looking for a supernatural body to jump, I would be the most likely candidate, and while the idea of near limitless power was appealing, being a puppet for an insane god was not high on my ‘to do’ list.

There was a screech of tires squealing on the asphalt outside and the sound of gunshots exploded through the air. I turned my head toward the noise as a silver BMW crashed through my front door. I dove sideways as the car slammed itself in the wall behind me with a thunderous crash. Two giant handprints were embedded in the front end of the car as though an incredibly strong being grabbed it.

Antonio’s body was twisted to the side, the seatbelt the only thing keeping him from slumping bonelessly to the floor. Blood was running down his face like a river. Melanie was screaming as she struggled to pull Antonio’s broken body free of his seatbelt. The front windshield was shattered and flame was curling around the edges of the hood.

Without thinking, I grabbed the door of the car and yanked. It was stuck. I took a deep breath, trying to concentrate as fire started to poke out from underneath the car. The overwhelming smell of gasoline was soon drowned out by the acrid scent of smoke. Not good.

I reached out with my mind, focusing the magical energy around me into sheer physical strength. It traveled into my body and into my straining muscles like how heat travels through your body after a sip of hot chocolate on a snowy day. I heaved backward while bracing my foot against the frame of the car. With a loud screech, the door came free in a spray of sparks. I flopped backward onto the ground as Melanie scrambled out of the car.

I pushed the wrecked door to the side and crawled to my feet. My pajamas stuck to my sweat-covered skin like wet paper. I pushed my hair away from my face and glanced past the burning car toward the giant hole where my front door used to be. Swell, I was going to burn down my apartment for the second time this year. My landlord was going to evict me this time. I was sure of it. No one gets two chances to burn down an apartment without suffering unpleasant consequences.

“Melanie, get him out of here. I think that car is going to blow,” I squawked, making my way toward the hole where my door used to be.

“We can’t go out through the front. It’s still out there,” Melanie shrieked, apparently unfazed by me ripping the door off the car. That wasn’t good. She pulled Antonio from the car, and he slumped on the ground at her feet. Also not good.

“What’s out there?” I knew I shouldn’t have asked but the words had already slipped out.

A voice echoed in my ears, loud even over the raging inferno rendering my apartment to ashes. “
I
am out here! I am Grollshanks, the greatest orcish swordsman of all time! Come out here and face me, Lillim Callina of the Dioscuri.”

I gulped. I didn’t recognize the name, but that meant little. Someone who could fling a car through my front door was not someone I wanted to mess with if I could help it. I mean, it was technically what I had been trained to do since I was a small child, but still…

Melanie’s eyes were wide with fear, but she still managed to get Antonio to the back window by herself. At least one of us was doing something because that burning car was going to explode soon. I spared her one last glance and shook myself into action.

“It’s got to be here somewhere,” I growled as I scattered the debris of my desk in a frantic search. There was an explosion to my left, and flaming wreckage rushed toward me as my hand closed around a sheathed sword. I pulled the sword free, frantically saying the words to put a magical wall of force between me and certain doom. The wreckage struck my magical shield and threw me backward in a cacophony of roaring flames and shrieking metal. It was so hot, the heat singed my hair even through my magic.

My body crashed through the remains of the big window that used to enclose my front wall. I landed hard on the grass-covered lawn in front of the property and slid to a stop. Opening my eyes, I instinctively patted myself down. Good! All the important bits were still there. My overcoat shielded me from the worst of the blast.

I rolled onto my hands and knees, heart still pounding with adrenaline. A green skinned figure roughly eleven feet tall with a shiny silver mane towered over me. Its face was contorted into a smile of delight, but it was hard to tell since its incisors were tusks the size of my fist.

The creature looked down at me and rapped one fist against its gilded breastplate. While the sound rang in my ears like a gong, it was the symbol of a hand clutching a broken hourglass engraved on its armor that stopped my breath. It was the symbol of the Death’s Edge.

I’ve never actually seen one in person before, though it was talked about in hushed voices back in the Dioscuri academy. One hasn’t been seen in almost a thousand years.

The Death’s Edge was a silver medallion rumored to heal the wearer from any injury. It was a great thing to have if you never ever lost it. If you did, well, you died.

“It is I, Grollshanks, the greatest orcish swordsman of all time. I have come for you, slayer of dragons. You will face me, and you will die.”

Chapter 3

“Death’s Edge, huh? So you’ve been around the block a few times. Big deal.” I couldn’t help myself. If I didn’t mouth off, I was going to freak.

Grollshanks cocked his head to the side and studied me. He stood back, waiting for me to stand. The ringing in my ears hadn’t stopped, but I pushed myself to my feet and unsheathed Haijiku. The black metal of the blade glittered in the sunlight like purple gemstones.

“So, you wish to face Haijiku?” I murmured more to myself than to anyone else. The blade was inhabited by a being known only as the Emissary of Tragedy. It was the only thing that kept me alive when fighting a dragon last year. “You wish to face the Emissary of Tragedy?” I emptied my face of emotion as I said the words. I’ve been told it was my killing face.

“I would like that very much,” Grollshanks said with a smile that turned his entire face into a mask of teeth. He unsheathed an enormous sword from his back. The damn thing must have been ten feet long. Despite its ridiculous size, he held it easily in front of him. I’ve fought big guys before. Dudes who could bench press a tractor weren’t exactly uncommon in my neck of the woods, but this gold-armored orc gave me the shivers.

“I have traveled far and wide fighting legendary warriors and none could defeat me. I do not look down on those who cannot. Know that while I relish the thought of your death, I also wish I could convey the honor I have for you. The glory your death will bring at my hands cannot be spoken of, it can only be earned.” Grollshanks’ voice was a little stilted, a little clipped. It almost sounded like he was… nervous?

I smiled and tightened my grip on Haijiku. I did feel pretty honored. After all, here was ‘the greatest orcish swordsman of all time’ and he
wanted
to fight me because I was, to put it bluntly, awesometastic. That was a welcome change from the guys I usually ran into. Usually, I’d be regarded as less than an amoeba beneath the toenails of an ant.

“Tell you what,” Grollshanks said with a smile, his green eyes flashing like lightning bugs. “I shall let you have the first blow.”

Without another word, he slammed his blade downward until half its length was buried in the concrete. I swallowed and took an unconscious step back as he shrugged off his gilded breastplate. The armor struck the ground so hard it actually cracked the pavement behind him. Beneath the breastplate, he wore a torn leather tunic. In one lithe motion he pulled it over his head and dropped it to the ground so that he stood before me bare-chested.

Thick gnarled lines crisscrossed his silvery flesh, highlighting the heavy muscle beneath. It looked like he had been flayed. That must have happened before he got the Death’s Edge, otherwise it would have healed.

I swallowed and counted to three. “Sangeki no Shisha.”

Haijiku burst into a cloud of forest green butterflies that flew forward and slammed into Grollshanks like crazed kamikazes. As they touched his flesh, it began to dissolve. Still, the butterflies pounded at him, flying up inside his body. That was when they began to explode. Grollshanks did not move. It was the scariest thing I’ve ever seen because no one ever stood there and took the full force of it like that.

Sinew and blood burst out of him. It was like watching firecrackers explode in someone’s closed hand. The smell of sizzling flesh filled my nostrils, and my stomach balled up. I was going to throw up from the smell of my own attack.

Grollshanks took a single step backward and fell to his knees, blood dripping from his lips. Very slowly, he stood back up and smiled, a small trail of blood seeping from his tongue as it hung lifelessly over his lower lip like a piece of overcooked meat. Ribbons of shredded flesh dangled from his chest in gory strips.

“Excellent execution, stopping power, and accuracy. Definitely more than what I was expecting, but definitely not close to what I hoped for either. Have dragons really fallen so far in recent years? Is this all the force required to defeat them?” Grollshanks asked, eyes flashing with amusement.

He stood, and to my horror, his flesh began to heal over. Nothing remained of the area I obliterated with my free strike. The bare rib cage was exposed, and behind it, Grollshanks’ lungs and the corner of his beating heart. Everything, from his skinned legs to his mauled hands and to his now gaping chest, ceased to bleed as his flesh knit itself back together. It was like watching someone smooth clay over a basket, filling in the crevices layer by layer until there was no trace of damage.

Grollshanks must have noticed the way my jaw dropped because he quirked his head to the side in amusement. “Neat trick, eh? I always thought living forever was a curse, but in situations like this, it's what you call a keeper.”

In mere moments, it was as though I hadn’t hurt him at all. He just shrugged off being exploded from the inside. He tapped the skin on his chest with one long finger and smiled. I took a step back and shuddered. This was unreal. A gleam filled his eye as he pulled his blade from the ground in a spray of dirt and rock.

“My turn.”

I screamed, and I’ll be honest, tried to run away as one powerful hand clamped around my entire face and slammed me backward through what remained of the outer wall of my apartment. There was a whoosh as Grollshanks’ other fist drove the air from my lungs with one decisive blow. The huge orc took a step backward as I fell to my knees like a broken puppet.

Haijiku tumbled from my hands, disappearing in a flash of color and energy. He hit me so hard, the spirit inhabiting Haijiku actually vacated the blade. The Emissary of Tragedy left me. The feeling tore at my soul, a pain far beyond the physical. Vaguely, I wondered how that could even happen… vaguely, because in that very moment, it was like part of me died.

It hurt in the way that ice burns because it’s so cold it sears the skin. It was a confusing sort of pain since I was one with it, completely and perfectly. Agony swirled around me, sucking me into an endless whirlpool of white oblivion.

Through the white came a hand. I watched it as my body slid toward the ground in what was a truly tragic display of powerlessness. The hand reached out and grabbed me by the collar of my overcoat, arresting my fall in its leathery grip, pulling me away from the sucking desolation of unconsciousness.

My eyes moved upward, tracking the hand to its source. A blurry form appeared above me. I looked up through the murk, seeing only shadows.

“Get up,” Grollshanks called, but I couldn’t focus on the face behind the words. I wasn’t even really sure there was a face to attach the words to. “You may not take this seriously, but I do.”

Chapter 4

Grollshanks leaned in close to me. I was hauled to attention by my collar. It should have hurt more, but I think my brain just decided to turn that part of my nervous system off. That didn’t bode well for me.

“You should have showed me the courtesy of trying your hardest. That you would die by my hand while using a weapon that flees at the first sign of danger is insulting.” The orc’s piggish face, so complete in its anger, filled my vision until I could see nothing else. The hand dropped me into a crumpled heap on the floor and pain shot through me. “I cannot believe you would face me with a weapon you’ve failed to master. Killing you like this would make
me
dishonorable.” With a look of disgust, the giant silver-haired orc turned and walked away. “I cannot believe you are the great Lillim Callina.”

I tried to get to my feet but found I could do little more than struggle to my knees. Now that the shock of losing Haijiku had faded, the pain of Grollshanks’ blow was starting to ebb away. In another few moments, I’d be able to stand… which was good because behind me, my home was on fire. Since that was staring to become a thing, I was slightly glad I lived in a standalone unit.

Sirens split the air, and I was thankful the police would find no incriminating weapons on me this time. No swords. No machine guns. Even with the concealed carry permit, cops didn’t exactly like seventeen-year-old girls sporting guns in this neck of Southern California, especially since I’d used a fake ID to get them. Then again, I came from a magical city in the clouds. Real IDs weren’t something I readily had available.

My neighbors were starting to spill out onto the street to watch the commotion. One of them must have called the fire department. Had any of them seen my ass getting handed to me by the giant orc? I shook my head and sighed, imagining the stories they would tell themselves. Humans have the remarkable ability to ignore the supernatural even when it was beating down a teenage girl in front of their faces.