Chapter 13: Enter the Transgressor

  Damien Tahquitz stepped into the dark passageway concealed behind the bookcase. His lower back screamed in pain from wrenching the heavy piece of furniture away from the wall, but he had finally found how his target–Chastity–had vanished from this office.

  Ignoring the motionless body of the Professor on the floor behind him, Damien entered the tunnel, gun drawn. He had wasted far too much time. The cops would be swarming the campus by now. Of course, he had always expected this to be a journey of no return.

  “I know you’re in there!” snarled Damien. “You can’t hide anymore!”

  Getting the gun had been so easy. Damien’s stepdad, blacked out from drinking, hadn’t even stirred as Damien entered his bedroom, opened the drawer of his bedside table, and plucked the fully loaded firearm.

  Suddenly, a pale blue light flooded the darkness, moving up and down over Damien as if scanning him.

  “Agh!” Damien startled, shielding his eyes from the light. A mysterious voice filled the chamber.

  There was a loud noise, like an alarm or failure alert, and the blue light turned a harsh red color.

  Damien cursed.

  The ‘scanning’ stopped, and the red light coalesced into a floating screen in the darkness. Damien cautiously approached, seeing the spoken words displayed.

  “What is this!?” Damien demanded.

  Infuriated, Damien raised the gun and took a shot at the screen. The sound of the gunshot was deafening, but there was no impact or ricochet. The shot simply disappeared into the endless ether of the passage. The floating red screen and voice continued without interruption.

  Damien shuddered as an unpleasant burning sensation coated his entire body. The red light of the shining screen cast a blood-like pall over his gaunt features.

  As the burning sensation grew unbearable, Damien gritted his teeth and pushed forward, walking straight through the suspended translucent screen and further into the darkness.

  “You can’t… distract me… from my purpose…” he managed through his clenched jaw.

  There was a light ahead. A way out of this tunnel. No doubt where the object of his malice had escaped to. Damien followed the pinprick of light, time and space dilating around him, as he unknowingly slipped through the membrane of reality into a frozen, enchanted world.

  ?

  The still body of Charlie Cucumber lay before the hearth of Roundhedge Tavern, bundled in several blankets. His open eyes stared straight up at the ceiling, his face pale, his expression fixed. Every spare piece of kindling was added to the fire. Many anxious onlookers stood about, offering suggestions from half-recollected remedies and watching to see if his condition worsened.

  Chastity knelt at Charlie’s side, silently praying for his recovery while Mrs. Underfoot rubbed a vegetal paste on the swollen location of the spiderbite.

  Meanwhile, Barkroot filled the Mayor and other villagers in on what had transpired at the Seer’s house. It was quickly decided upon that the only ones likely able to decipher the text of the codex, besides the learned scribes and scholars in faraway Crown City, would be the elves, who retained knowledge and practice of the Old Tongue as if the language were evergreen.

  Although there had been no formal contact for many, many years, the closest Elven settlement was believed to be Everglen, several days' journey to the east. The Evervale, wherein lay Everglen, was said to be an ancient, primal forest, where only the likes of Wood Elves dared trod (if the tales were true). If Chastity wanted answers, she could follow the river south from Goldenberry, through the neighboring farmlands at the river’s great bend, then follow the old cobblestone road eastward until the road gave way to untamed wilderness beyond the water’s fall.

  A gasping sound escaped from Charlie’s lips. Chastity turned back to the young halfling, her heart lifting within her.

  “Charlie! Can you hear me? Can you speak? Are you okay?”

  The whole village, seemingly crammed into the tavern, crowded in. The halfling moved his lips, trying to form words.

  “A… a…” he whispered weakly. “A…”

  “O, bless the river!” his aunt exclaimed. “He’s coming ‘round. What’s that you’re trying to say, Charlie? Speak up!”

  Mrs. Underfoot bent her ear low before the young master, straining to listen.

  “A… a…. ale…” Charlie rasped. “P-please give… me… s-some… ale…”

  Chastity rolled her eyes. But in a flash, Mayor Roundhedge with an assist from misters Underfoot, Pennybun, and Pricklebush, tapped a barrel and began to funnel some of the amber liquid into Charlie’s open mouth.

  ?

  Damien trudged down a steep, winding path leading down the back of the mountain he had appeared upon. Wind driven snow stung his face, and he pulled his black cloak tighter around himself. So–he had been transported to another world. And he himself had been transformed in the process.

  He had been called ‘crazy’ many times before in his life. Had been locked up in psych wards for months at a time against his will: labeled, forcibly medicated, then spat out once his mom’s health insurance ran dry. Well, if this was all a hallucination (and the intrusive screens he kept minimizing were evidence of that), who cared? Anything was better than the godforsaken world he had just left behind.

  Damien paused along the haphazard trail. He examined the repeating hand crossbow attached to his wrist. It reminded him of the weapon from a certain demon-hunting class from a dark fantasy video game. To be honest, fantasy games weren’t his favorite. He preferred games where you could run over civilians in stolen cars, burn down trailer parks, and simulate other ‘antisocial’ activities. The kind of games that get banned from Steam, that you have to pirate via sketchy links on dark web message boards.

  A shape moved across his peripheral vision. Damien tensed. He still didn’t know what to expect in this strange place. But there, hopping nimbly across the snowy ground, was an arctic hare.

  Damien relaxed, then raised his arm, aiming the crossbow at the animal. A grim smile crossed his face and he fired a single bolt at the innocent creature, staining the snow red.

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