Chapter 101: Ch: 93 The Conqueror Worm

 

Ch: 93 The Conqueror Worm

Back home as darkness fell, Gary pulled his shadow friend back into himself and made his armor vanish, piece by piece. The little family battened down the proverbial hatches and fell into bed all together, in a happy, wigging pile. 

Sleep found them all quickly, as they appeared in their beds scattered among the islands and rejoined in the garden, with the less corporeal members of the family. 

 

“What you did was potentially very dangerous Gary, Morrigan is unpredictable, even by the standards of the great fae. Her passion for humans, particularly young human men… and women who have been brushed by death, is … intense and all too often, tragic.” He grumbled. “Done is done. let’s look at what you risked everything to gain.”

 

Gary tossed the info up on a white curtain that rolled down from a nearby tree limb, drawn down by a short, slender cord with a wooden ring on the end.

 A voice rang out, tinny and distorted, reading the information in a flat monotone.

 

Might:Iron, Beast, divine Contract, Homebody, The Hive, The Sun.

 

Resilience:Iron, Secret, divine Contract, Fractured Soul, Quietus Moon, The Moon.

 

Agility:Iron, spear Wanderer's Legacy, Pockets!, Sleight of Mind, The Hierophant.

 

*beeep* Please change slides… *beeep*

Slowly, the image slid off the screen and vanished, replaced by another block of text and the same droning voice.

 

Will:Iron, Brigid, etheric Contract, Artisan, Bound in Flesh, The Hanged Man.

 

Mind:Iron, Morrigan, etheric Contract, Interface, Unlivening, The Endless Dance of Death.

 

Animus:Iron, Joy, divine Contract, Familiar Stranger, Entrainment, The Fool.

 

*beeep* Please change slides… *beeep*

 

Quietus Moon: Resilience, Animus, Will, Mind. 

 

Wielder may contact and lay to rest, souls/fractional souls/shades/ghosts/spirits by allowing targeted soul/fractional soul/shade/ghost/spirit to inhabit or possess wielder's shadow for a brief time. Low mana and stamina cost, no cooldown.

 

Wielder may, at great cost*, sever a portion of their soul/shade/ghost/spirit, this fragment may be inhabited by targeted soul/fractional soul/shade/ghost/spirit temporarily. High mana, stamina and etheric cost*, no cooldown, additional costs* apply, consult local laws and deities before use. 

Significant damage to wielder: possible

 

*Quietus Moon, Wielder's shadow and essence will be depleted by use, willing participants reduce costs and penalties significantly. Shades are immaterial and undirected, enacting their own agendas until released/dismissed/laid to rest. Cooperative spirits may return at will or summons. Cooperative spirits may haunt wielder.

 

“All of us can read Gary… why the weird voice and strange… ‘slides’?” Becky demanded. She got no answer, because Gary and Thirp were laughing it up over in the corner. Marduk looked amused and disappointed at the same time.

“This presentation is in the style of a number of very… unreliable instructional ‘filmstrips’ from Gary’s home. Yet another cultural touchstone with which I struggle.” He sighed. “Would you watch them with me and explain? Gary and Thirp just giggle and pass notes like children.”

 

“Sure, maybe Amy and Wilford will like them…” She said, hugging her god and ruffling his hair.

 

“That I doubt, they are honestly terrible, but thankfully brief. That is the thing with his culture, it’s all a reference to a reference to a thing he assumes everybody knows, because there, everyone does.” He shook his head in wonder and confusion. “Even a simple children’s game can be elevated to heights of foolish excitement by his people.” 

 

“Really Ducky? Gods shouldn’t exaggerate…” Becky smiled and hugged him again.

 

“What if I told you that every year, for decades, men and women, grown men and women mind you… would gather in a town called ‘Oulu, Finland’ to pretend to play guitar…” 

Becky giggled at the name of the place and the idea. “Really, you and Gary are getting to be too close…” 

 

His flat, frank stare left her holding a bowl of curdled mirth. “Becky, my love. Every year for decades, men and women traveled thousands of miles, to pretend to play guitar in front of massive crowds of cheering admirers, for fame and cash prizes.”

Behind him, Gary’s screen went black and began to show a clear image of a very strange man. As so often happened, the figure began to move, his image captured in motion for all time in a madman’s mind.

He danced and gyrated, strumming, picking, licking, even molesting a guitar that simply did not exist. Music and the roars of a cheering multitude washed over the garden. All eyes turned from the discussion of Gary’s gifts, to watch the men and women cavorting across the stage.

 

“Sweet! The Air Guitar Championships!” Gary sang, while pantomiming a furious, arpeggiated run up the entire neck of no guitar at all. 

His face was screwed up in an expression of disgust and pain, as though a trapdoor spider were biting his crotch as he ‘played’.

 

“Fair point Ducky. Fair point.” Becky sank down onto a puffball mushroom and sighed. 

 

When the nonsense wrapped up, Thirp accepted her laurels with good grace… 

 

“Thank you, thank you, winning this competition is a lifelong dream, but I didn’t do it alone… I would like to thank my choreographer and personal trainer, Amy. And Wilford… I couldn’t have done it without your support…” Her long winded acceptance speech went on for a while.

 

“Eight legs, an Aclintherios be one of the judges… Fie, the fix were in!” Shai fumed prettily and made a great show of sulking. “Amy an Wilford did assist her an all. I dinnae hae backup dancers.”

#

 

“I have a lot of stuff to work through before I really understand how these things work… Most of them need to cook a while longer, but I think tomorrow is going to work out juuuuuust fine.” He smiled and sat back on the sofa, looking pleased with himself.

 

“What do that mean boy? I still dinnae like the looks o some o these gifts, an nae knowing be worrisome.” Shai was finally past her crushing air guitar defeat at Thirp’s… hands?

 

“The big takeaway is that now, when a non corporeal or outside entity tries to slap me around, I can slap back. Like with ghosts.” He grinned and made himself cozy on Shai’s lap. 

“Morrigan is a crazy, unrestrained, impulsive force of nature and a real bitch, but she knows how to hit where it hurts.” 

He closed his eyes and vanished between breaths, while no one was looking. Shai didn’t even notice until she tried to stroke his hair and found nothing but an empty blanket.

#

 

He woke first, as usual, instead of getting up,

 he lay back among his sleeping loved ones and started roaming through his new gifts in the predawn darkness. First on the list and perhaps the most expressive and active of his new gifts  was: 

 

The Hive: Might, Animus, Will, Resilience. 

 

Macroscopic manna molecules manifest, managing magical matrix, more meditation. Malfunction.

 ‘That one needs more time…’ He mumbled in his skull. Next up:

 

The Sun: mark of the fae, occult, unknown effect. 

‘Radiance casts shadows, dark things linger where they fall; light can dazzle as thoroughly as darkness blinds.’

 

‘That was no help.’ He reached his will out for the next of the new lines:

 

The moon: mark of the fae, occult, unknown effect.

‘Between shadow and light, dreams and waking, only a razor’s thinnest edge divides, ‘ware, lest you cut yourself.’

 

He was frustrated, so he flipped to the important one, skipping the tarot mysteries entirely for now.

 

Unliven: Resilience, Animus, Will, Mind.

The gift of Mortality: willing entities may accept this gift, or refuse. Entities entirely in wielder’s thrall are unable to refuse. Unwilling and unconstrained entities’ resistance scales against: Will, Mind, Animus, Resilience, Might, Agility.

‘To sleep, perchance to dream…’

 

‘Morrigan, you crazy bitch…’ He thought, while getting up and dressing himself. Shai would wake soon, the rest soon after that. He stumbled down stairs, still tender… downstairs. The musician started the coffee and pulled a tray of biscuits out of the cooler. Turning around, he bumped right into a soft, warm, familiar shape.

 

“Morrigan, what are you doing here? How did you get in my house?” Gary demanded coldly and quietly.

 

“I’m not here, I’m haunting your shadow… with a little extra.” She murmured, slipping closer to him. “I can be a little more; more than a simple shade…” She ran her talon down the gap of his shirt, bringing back hazy memories.

 

“Whoa there! None of that.” He snapped. 

 

She withdrew her clawed hand from inside his shirt and pouted. “I’m just your shadow… your woman shouldn't mind, it would be like touching yourself… with a little extra.”

 

“I’m more than able to touch myself without any ‘extra’, thank you very much. It’s all beat up anyway, you nearly blew up my dick!” He started to raise his voice and finished in a hushed whisper. “It looks like I lost a cockfight…” 

 

He paused, conjured a note pad and wrote ‘Sock’em Cock’em Monsters’, above a crude drawing of a puppet minotaur standing on a platform, squared off against an ogre. 

Both wore padded gloves and were sketched in a manner suggesting movement, specifically the ability to punch their opponent in the crotch until his head popped off.

“Just an idea for a gag gift… anyway, crotch trauma is real.” He griped, no longer distracted by foolishness.

 

“Oh, I’m so sorry boy, but I only have one power to heal the wounds of men…” She cooed, winding around him seductively. “You asked for my aid, I gave it in the only way I can… I did offer to kiss it and make it better, that offer still stands, as long as you do.”

 

“Look around inside me, decide for yourself if I’m serious… Don’t fuck with Shai, or my kids. Dont fuck with my friends or family. If you do, I will cut you out of me, whatever the cost.” 

He continued making breakfast for his mate and kids, forcing the shadow seductress to flirt with him while he worked. 

Her shadowed hands drifted over his body in suggestive ways, delivering barely felt tickles, pinches and caressess. When the eggs, poached in a mildly spicy tomato sauce landed on the table, that was the last straw.

“I’m trying to seduce you boy! At least have the good grace to be flustered and get erect!” She stamped her shadow foot raising a tiny, hollow thud. 

 

“I need my personal space, if you want me to do my job, let me work. When I’m off the clock you can come tease me. Respect my boundaries and Shai’s or stay away.” He yawned and took a long stretch. “Sunrise, time to get to work.” He gave the pouting shadow a peck on the cheek and banished her away. “High maintenance!”

#

 

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Tallum rumbled up out of the workshop when Ivy got up. Shai and the kids appeared just before first bell. It was a full table before first bell finished ringing. 

The grownups lingered over coffee while the little ones went to play with Annie and the other familiars and horses.

 

“I have some work to do out in the back lot, just a little occult nonsense and extraplanar vigilante justice. Shai, Ivy, Tallum, up for something weird?” Gary was still moving slowly and carefully, but he had a hard look in his eye. 

“I will be punishing the guy behind the crossbow today. If that makes you squeamish, that’s ok. No judgment, I just don’t want anybody to be surprised.”

“I’ll be there, I have an interest in this binding magic you use. Liam said he was curious too, something about plants…” Ivy made a show of checking her notebook and pencils for readiness.

“Great, wear your armor and gear if you want, but this should be very civilized. We will have a conversation, hopefully we can reach an agreement… if not, I will change the topic.” 

 

He headed out into the garden and out the back gate with a gaggle of friends in tow. Tawny and Khan watched them go, holding the children’s hands and waving happily.

“Gary is playing with dirt again.” Wilford said in his somber, grown man voice. “That’s nasty.”

 

“Yes Wilford, but we can only hope he washes up before coming inside. Little boys do enjoy rolling in the mud.” Tawny soothed the grumpy boy, by bouncing him on her lap. “That might be the most I ever heard you say.” 

 

“I don’t have… words.” He said, through a frustrated glare.

 

“Wilford was deaf before we came here. He couldn’t hear so he’s learning words from me!” Amy sang happily, swinging back and forth from Khan and Tawny’s hands.

# 

 

Out in the overgrown forest of Back Corner, Gary set up beside a nasty little patch of dead berry brambles. He and Tallum simply armored up, drew the scythes from their seaside slaughter Adventure and mowed the thorny mess without incident. 

 

Gary piled most of the cut vines and canes in a hastily constructed fire ring and lit the mess with a short incantation. Sparks shot from his left hand, quickly catching on the dried twigs. He placed a covered copper kettle in the fire and got to work.

While the fire burned, he used a bronze shovel to dig a patch of thick, clay soil from a damp corner of the clearing. He began stomping and scraping it in the middle of the glade.

“Is he going to strip and root about like an animal again?” Vera asked, from right behind Shai. “I have no desire to see him lighten his burdens…”

 

“A pox on thee Vera! Ye did nearly stop me heart!” Shai scolded her in hushed tones. “He do say this be dark doings, but nae like the last. ‘I hae his number’ Gary do say. What‘er that means.”

 

“That means, my dear.” He wrapped her in a hug from behind, snuggling close. “That means, I am going to call it directly here, then we will match wits and wills. An immortal hive mind older than most civilizations and possessed of arts and knowledge from beyond this realm, against me, and this pile of mud.” 

He bounced on his feet, punching at thin air and exhaling through his nose on each strike for a moment. “Hardly seems fair, does it?” That mad, crooked grin said it all.

 

He went back to working his clay, adding water from a bucket in his pants, sprinkling some strange red ashy powder into the mix and churning it over and over until he had a smooth, brick red mass of sticky clay on the forest floor. When the fire went out, he used a bronze trowel to shove the ash and remnants into a small wooden pail. He mixed them with warm beeswax, olive oil and some rendered wallowbear fat, into a thick black, stringy paint. 

With a brush of his own hair, he began painting circles and strange glyphs around his disk of dark red clay. He used a simple wooden stylus to cut a short run of symbols into a spiral pattern. They spun around themselves, leading to a depression in the middle of the disk about the size of a large man’s thumbprint. 

Gary put a large, transparent, cut gemstone in the depression and pressed it into place. He draped a tiny white cloth over the thing, just enough to hide the stone. 

Shai and the others opened a slow instrumental as he carved the last few runes around the edge of his disk and cut it away with a wire. With great care he slid a thin wooden shingle under it and started to dance in a sunwise direction.

#

 

Once his magically fired tablet was ready, he pulled a camp chair out of his backside and sat down with the watchers. “I could summon it onto a hot tile, but that’s not for today.” He smiled cruelly… “That hot tile idea is terrrrrible Ivy, you should feel bad for suggesting it.” The blonde mage looked confused, then surrendered to the inevitable.

 

“Exactly right Gary, I’m awful.” She said with a sigh and giggle.

 

“This is very different from the last one of these you guys saw, hollow ones don’t have a name or an identity, that makes them hard to call or catch, nearly impossible in fact.” He gloated just a little. “I’m kinda good at this.” 

“On the other pseudopod, our wormy guest from the other day has a name and an identity… we’ve met him before, for those not in the loop. He was behind the ground dragons a few weeks ago.” A few grumbles made the rounds, a few satisfied belly rubs too, the inn’s menu was still very worm centric.

 

“Ok, this is going to be a little tough, I expect him to put up a fight.” He slung his guitar and started playing a fiercely, uptempo number.

 

I remember, doing the Time Warp

Drinking those moments when

 

The blackness would hit me

And the void would be calling

 

Let's do the Time Warp again

 

Every time he got to the part about ‘pelvic thrusts’, he seemed uncomfortable, but he danced it as he called it.

 

With a bit of a mind flip

You're into the time slip

 

And nothing can ever be the same

 

You're spaced out on sensation

Like you're under sedation

 

Let's do the Time Warp again…

 

He was panting with exertion when the music ended and nothing seemed to be happening. “Huh, that was easier than I thought.”

 

“Nothing happened Gary.” Liam said quietly. “Those pelvic thrusts really took it out of you…” He snickered and tried almost hard enough to keep his cool. Almost. 

“Look closer wiseguy, Yeah, that’s right, even in his current condition, I can still do my cock pushup.” A single wriggling worm was thrashing on the cold, hard tile in the sun. “Good morning Skrigg. Remember me?”

#

 

Thirp was frantic, skittering to and fro in a tizzy. “Please, calm down, he’s mad but this magic is unique to this place… Thirp… Thirp please..” 

Marduk wound up chasing the spider under the couch with a broom just for a moment’s peace. 

 

When Aclintherious finally arrived at the gate, she was able to restrain herself and go address her deity. 

“Peace child, the odd magic at the heart of my former home is subtle, strange and very very potent when used with care and craft. Your own techniques are a refinement of these very principles.” 

 

The orange vapors wafting from the divine mandibles soothed Thirp’s nerves, restoring her usual mellow curiosity. “He summoned The Skrig, my lord, not just a few, or even a lot, not even most of them. He summoned The Skrig. It will surely infest and devour all life on that plane of reality.” 

She began to twitch and skitter again, spinning frantic little cloth hankies in her web and dabbing her eight eyes with them. “I have come to care for them so much…”

 

“Watch child, you are She Who Spins In The Void, she is not powerless. You can intervene if you think you must… or trust the odd creatures you have come to care so much for…”

#

 

“I was expecting a fight to get it in here… instead it slipped right in, along with something familiar. Don’t panic… and maybe, get Tony. Or the duke, I feel like I just caught a fish, with a fish in its mouth.” Gary was standing in front of the tile blocking their view, jabbering.

“Seriously, it's like watching a noxious weed get eaten by aphids… or your asshole neighbor finally stepping in his own dog’s crap.”

 

From the tile, a thick, unhealthy, gnarled wrist grew like some foul undead shrub. It sprouted a disgusting spray of mutant fingers, all clenching and unclenching around a small ball of wriggling, writhing, yellowish red worm.

It climbed and squirmed, but could not seem to escape the grip of that huge palm and its grotesque, tentacular fingers.

“You stupid, greasy little shit… you wanted a shot at me so bad, you let it put a ziggurat in you? I should just cut you loose in the void to float with your undead parasite forever, but that hand is a human soul, nobody deserves to be stuck with you for eternity.” Gary drew his big bass flute out and let a low note roll on and on. 

 

With one continuous drone, he began to shift his fingering, modulating his sound.

Tallum caught his vibe and zeroed in on a smooth steady groove, strolling up and down the scale at a whim. 

Gary lowered his flute and drew a small drum. “Yeah, now let’s go Liam, Dannyl… put some stank on it.” They gave him blank looks, before looking at each other, then back to Gary. “Make it feel…” He began to thrust and grind his hips… carefully.

Shai swept in with her violin, and showed them all about stank. Her booty bells were off the table, those hips were still on the injured list. She got the whole band grooving on Tallum’s thing while he limbered up.

Gary produced a long, slim wand of hawthorn, with a viciously hooked thorn still attached at the slender tip. It was mounted in a grip of turned haunted maple and had a few enchantments for durability, pointyness and touching the intangible. All things hawthorn was all about, already.

 

Whistling a happy tune, he reached into the invisible barrier around his prey and hooked his cruel barb into the meat of the hand. 

“There we go buddy.” He murmured as he gyrated the wand, stitching the barb through and under the unwholesome skin again and again. 

“Fortunately, he is completely insensate, only motivated to grab his prey and hold on. He can’t feel what I’m doing right now… the hand… Skrigg is feeling everything.” Gary looked thoughtful for a moment.

“Good thing worms can’t scream… fishing would have a whole different vibe… Hey, Skrigg, wanna go fishing when I’m done? You get to learn the whole process…” He dug his wand in and gave a slow, gentle tug, drawing something invisible out of the circle. 

He coiled his long strand of imaginary something on the seat of his chair and smiled warmly. “Now that undead hand is just an undead hand, you two belong together.” Gary let his music drop slowly, releasing his gifts and cuing his friends to fall silent.

“I came here today fully prepared to commit genocide… since you’re a hivemind it really shouldn’t count, but I don’t make the rules. Instead I hurt my brain thinking up an idea that would leave my hands clean but really get my message across.” 

 

He stood up and gave a good stretch. “I was going to just leave you in that tile forever, but that just means until something finally breaks it. You’re immortal and you suck, so that would just be kicking the problem down the road.”

Gary picked up the imaginary something on his chair and sat down turning to face the silent crowd. “I need to wait a few minutes, then I can send this guy home.” Gary smiled at his friends and Vera.

“This world is very easy to get to for mortals, the dryads offered passage to anyone that was compatible, for a long time. Passage in, and passage out. For immortals the rules are the same, if you wish to enter you have to accept the rules of this physical reality, otherwise you just won’t fit.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the slowly writhing, hand worm combo. 

“Looks like Skrigg thought it found a way to cheat. The ziggurat is our nameless enemies’ hand in the physical world, literally and figuratively.” He chuckled grimly. 

“This one is brand new, only one soul, so only one hand. Now no soul, just animated rotting flesh, feeding on Skrigg forever. Since Skrigg is immortal it will eventually find a way to get free and go back to being a nuisance…”

 

“Long story, slightly shorter, I decided on a hybrid approach. First my new gift from the dark lady of the winter court. I sold a piece of my soul and suffered severe crotch trauma for the solution to your problem.” 

He reached out again with his long barbed wand and gently touched the ball of worms with the point. “Morrigan’s gift is a bitter blessing, your numberless eons are now finite, worm.” 

 

When he withdrew his wand, the hand began to wither, crumbling to dust and evaporating into motes of nothing. Soon, only the worm remained, twisting and writhing its obscene length on and around itself.

“Now for the second part. I won’t kill you, now that I could.” He prodded the creature with his pointed wand to get the message across. “I could use you for fishbait and no one would know but these good people… Instead I’m going for a classic, with a twist… the Phantom Zone!” He reached out and hooked away the tiny white cloth covering his tiny gemstone, embedded in the tile.

 

“Refracted and reflected in the eternal and recursive facets of this stone you will await your freedom… This I command. Summoned forth by my will and your name, with your own essential salts, I command it.” He clapped his hands with explosive force three times. “I was shot with an arrow, sold part of my soul and had my loins abused to get to this point. You deserve exactly what you are getting. Go in and wait, mortal Skrigg.” 

 

visions of the worst bowl of noodles sprang to mind, as the vile thing was slowly reeled into the shining crystal with a wet, faintly sizzling slurp. As the head… or butt of the thing vanished, the tile collapsed into a tired puff of red dust and blew away on an errant breeze. Gary collected the shiny stone and grinned. 

“It’s a salt crystal. He is so fucked.”

 

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