The Fountain Pen

Today was an awkward day for writing. An old childhood friend (he reminded me we’ve been friends for 30 years) was in town today and last-minute we arranged to get our families together. It had been two years since we last saw each other. It was a great time catching up, and I don’t regret not writing during those hours. Despite all my socializing I still managed to get 1,000 words ahead of schedule, and if all goes well I’ll finish Monday night.

I did manage to finish Chapter 8 today, so the usual ePub and PDF versions are available. I’ve decided that once I am done with the entire draft I will put it online in both PDF and ePub, so if you are horribly behind or are have been meaning to get around to reading my draft, you might as well wait until December. Or, you could always start from the beginning.

Here is the closing bits of Chapter 8, in which the battle concludes, and the beginning of Chapter 9, in which the fallout is felt:

Thunder rolled across the sky as bolts of lightning fell from the sky, striking the ground all around Ignatius, forming a tight circle of burnt earth. Ignatius stood resolute, staring into the trees where he last saw Bob. Thunder continued to rumble above, echoing the intensity of the battle below, as more lightning poured from the sky, accompanied by arcs of electricity snaking its way through tress, all destined for Ignatius. Ignatius didn’t waver through it all, until a limb came bursting forth from the trees on a violent collision course with his head. He ducked, dropping down to one knee, then caught sight of a spear hurtling toward him from the opposite direction. He rolled out of the way, and into the legs of an attacker, who toppled on top of Ignatius, mace flying from his hand. Cruel laughter split the air as Bob bellowed, “I win.” A cascade of lightning bore down on the two men, and struck home in a sickening explosion.

Joe screamed, “No!” Bob continued to bark gleeful laughter as the thunder subsided. The few remaining men left standing pressed the attack, charging all at once. Joe looked pleadingly up at Katarina, but saw she stood motionless, eyes closed, a single tear carving a path down her cheek. Joe hung his head in defeat, despair overwhelming him. Joe looked up as the air was suddenly charged with a cackling energy. The hair on his arms and the back of his neck stood up, and his skin tingled. Katarina was still motionless, her posture unchanged, but her hair was now floating, defying gravity, and an aerie blue-white light lit her countenance.

Joe didn’t see her lips move, but heard Katarina said, “Get down,” in a commanding tone, her voice full of wrath. Joe flattened himself into the ground, and covered his head with his arms as the world around him rocked and shuddered with the most violent show of force Joe had ever witnessed. Laying on the ground the breath was knocked out of him, forcing him to lift up his head and gasp for air, but there was none. Panic filled Joe’s mind as he struggled to breathe the air he knew to be there, had always been there, his mind reeling at what could have happened. Slowly his lungs filled with short breaths, then longer, more steady breaths. It took him a moment to gather himself, but looking around everyone was laying on the ground either dead or unconscious.

Katarina knelt down by Joe’s head and whispered in urgent tones, “Are you alright? Can you stand?”

Joe managed a weak, “I think so,” then pushed himself up unsteadily.

“Good. Come with me, quickly.”

“What about Ignatius?” Joe asked standing up.

“I’ve got him. Come we must go now,” she said taking off back up the trail they had come, Ignatius’s limp body flung over her shoulder.

Joe scrambled to his feet and chased after her. “What did you do back there?”

“We don’t have time right now. Just run.”

“Didn’t you take care of them?”

“Run,” came her curt command.

“But where are we going?” he demanded.

“Back to Second City,” she replied.

Chapter Nine

“Why not the hospital?” Joe said, recalling that when they walked to the park he saw a hospital across the street.

“It won’t do him any good,” Katarina barked back. “No more questions,” she snapped back.

Joe had to hustle to keep pace with Katarina, who, despite carrying Ignatius jogged down the path and out into an open field. They ran out in the open, cars were driving up and down the street just off to their right, people were jogging ahead on the same path, and there was a parking lot full of cars and more than a few people milling about. Joe worried what would happen when people realized a girl was carrying a man away from the hospital. Joe lowered his head and followed Katarina, deciding to tune out any distractions, running with the hope that the entrance to Second City was not far away.

They kept running. They past the stadium and ran around the soap box derby run, then veered sharply up a hill, following a path right to the front door of an old farm house. Joe barely had time to register the incongruity of finding a preserved farm house in the middle of a 90 acre park, which boasted playgrounds, tennis courts, a full stadium with bleachers, and soap box derby run. In his distraction at seeing the house he tripped and found himself sprawled out on the ground, his face full of grass and dirt.

“Joe, are you alright?” Katarina called out, stopping and turning to inquire.

Joe spit grass out of his mouth. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He looked up and saw, off in the distance, nestled in and amongst a rose garden, a white gazebo standing proud in the park. “What is it with this town and gazebos?” he asked picking himself up off the ground.

“This way, it’s not far,” Katarina called out, grabbing Joe’s hand and dragging him after her, heedless of his slight limp. Joe stumbled after Katarina as they came around the house heading for the greenhouse. Katarina pulled Joe in after her and carefully checking that no one else was in the greenhouse with them she slammed the door shut, then promptly opened it again. Joe barely had time to shoot her a quizzical look when she shoved him through the open door then lunged through after him.

Joe stumbled, then winced as his ankle screamed at him, and he fell to the ground landing on his backside. He was about to shout something unpleasant to Katarina when he realized he was surrounded by angry looking guards pointing all manner of medieval weaponry at him and Katarina. It took him a moment to realize he was once again on the landing overlooking the impressive Second City, only this time it did not appear he was welcome. Thinking Katarina was still in the park and not yet through he quickly and nervously shouted, “I’m with Katarina!”

“Stand down Guardsman,” Katarina’s voice rang out with authority. The guards faltered but did not lower their weapons. “I said stand down,” she repeated. “I have a wounded man here in need of medical attention.”

“Forgive us milady, but you yourself told us never, under any circumstances, to allow that man into the City,” one of the guards said, an iron firmness to his voice.

“I am well aware of my standing orders,” she replied testily. “I am exercising my right to grant him access this one time. Stand down,” Katarina said with finality.

As one the guards lowered their weapons, and all but one silently melded back into the shadows. “I will escort you and your guest to your destination. He is not to leave my sight. You know our way.”

Katarina nodded then turned her attention to Joe who sat on the ground stupefied but relieved. “I am sorry Joseph,” she said, offering her hand to help him up.

Joe shook his head. “It’s alright. I guess. Now can you tell me why were are here instead of a hospital?

Shaking her head Katarina said, “I can’t give you full explanation, but suffice it to say we are protected here, and his wounds cannot be looked after by the doctors in that hospital.”

Joe took a moment to look at Ignatius. He hung limply on Katarina’s shoulder, color drained from his face, his arms and legs akimbo. Joe had to look hard to discern any sign of breathing. “He’ll be alright?”

“We’ll see, but I fear we must hurry.” Turning to the guard she asked, “Guardsman, are you willing to carry this man to my home?”

The guard nodded his head in a swift, firm motion, then carefully plucked Ignatius up an slung him over a shoulder. Without another word he jogged down the steps heading for Second City. Joe began to follow but winced and cried out when he put his weight on his right foot. Katarina snapped her head looking first at Joe then at his favored foot. “You’re injured,” she said.

“It’s just my ankle. I might have sprained in when I tripped,” Joe said. “It’s nothing. I’ll be fine.”

“Put your arm around my shoulder and at least let me help you,” Katarina said, pulling Joe’s arm around her shoulder with one hand while wrapping another around his waist and pulling him in close.

They hobbled down the steps, Joe sucking in breath now and then as tried to use his right foot, only to have Katarina gently scold him and threaten to carry him if he did not take his weight off that foot. By the time they got to the outskirts of the city the news of Katarina’s arrival had spread as many rushed out to meet her flooding her with questions. She assured them she was alright, though clearly many were concerned given Joe’s state. “It’s nothing,” Joe tried to reassure them. “I sprained my ankle when I tripped over my own feet.” That hardly put them at ease.

“What is he doing here?” they demanded. “You promised he would never be allowed down here.”

Katarina stopped to address the crowd. “Ignatius Blackmoore was gravely injured while trying to protect both me and Joe,” she told them. “He showed great courage and selflessness, and in order to save his life I have brought him here.” The crowd murmured disagreeable. “He is not conscious,” she told them, “and he will remain that way until I am satisfied he can safely return. You have my word.” At that the murmuring subsided, though clearly many were uncomfortable with the situation.