Maria stared in disbelief. About time those two leveled up. I’m proud. I’ve taught them well. She couldn’t help but smile.
Before Claire took after Tabby, she retrieved the dead Orc’s large sword from the alley, then came back out and waved at Maria.
“Go! Go!” she yelled. “You can do it. You possess more power than you think. Your sword—”
But Claire was cut off by more Orcs jumping out from the shadows. She clumsily blocked the hit and kicked out, connecting with the Orc’s midsection. She slashed him sloppily across both arms, drawing a deep black cut, and was forced to run as more closed around her.
It took everything Maria had not to run after her. But she couldn’t.
All right, Maria, they can handle it. They’re stronger now, and time is running out.
The prospect of death was still fresh on her mind; her own death, the death of her friends and family. She did not intend to die today, but if it happened, so be it. At least she would die doing the right thing, as she had told Gramps earlier.
He and the rest of her family were out there fighting to their own possible deaths for this little lakeside town, but, most importantly, for Maria’s ideals—the ones bestowed upon her by Ignatius Mangood himself. She owed it to them as much as she owed it to Penelope and the townspeople of Ashbourne, to go through with her plans. To defeat the dragon. To save them.
So Maria tightened her grip on the sword that may or may not have been from a legendary dragon slayer and put her head down as she ran toward the tower.
And, perhaps, to certain death beyond.
Chapter Eleven
Back on Earth, Joe Gilepo called Maria for the seventh time, again getting no answer. He sat in his car, still in his Rolling Hill Mall security outfit. It was natural for him to worry. Growing up with a couple of neurotic parents didn’t help much. He hadn’t even been allowed to play football when he was younger.
‘You’ll get too many concussions,’ he could remember his mother saying.
Then Dad chimed in. ‘Do you want permanent brain damage, son? You need to keep all the brain cells you have, buddy.’
When he had graduated high school and announced plans to join the police academy over the summer and hopefully start working in law enforcement by early the following year, Joe’s mom had a conniption fit.
‘There’s all sorts of undesirables out there, Joey! Do you want to get shot?’
Dad piggybacked: ‘Not to mention all those people out there who hate cops and wanna see ‘em dead just for the hell of it. No can do, Joe. You need to keep all the vital organs you have, buddy.’
So Joe compromised—a word he hated, especially when he got the shit-end of the stick—and applied to a third-party security guard company as an unarmed guard. He wound up at Rolling Hill Mall. It wasn’t a terrible job by any means—he had at least met Maria Apple out of the deal.
And kissed her…
But Joe always found himself wanting more when it came to his career, his life.
He tried calling Maria again.
“We’re sorry. The number you have called cannot be reached. Please hang up—”
Joe hung up. This is weird. What is Maria always up to? He wasn’t jealous, or anything like that. Of course, it hadn’t been that serious between the two of them…yet…but he was honestly curious. And what had been that business about the sword and hanging out at Salem’s Ice Cream with a bunch of old people?
It all seemed so…odd.
“Gotta get to the bottom of this,” Joe mumbled as he turned the key in the ignition. “Not because I’m a stalker or anything, but because I care.”
Yeah, that’s what all the stalkers say.
“I’ve always wanted to be a detective, right? Might as well try out my skills now.”
He shifted into drive and pulled through the parking space, heading toward Maria’s house.
But first, I’ll stop and get her flowers. That won’t be as weird. Worked before, didn’t it?
Back in Ashbourne, a storm had broken out. Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed. The dying flames on the lake lurched and swayed with the strong winds rocking its surface.
Maria reached the water tower, still thinking about Claire, Tabby, Gramps, Sherlock, and the newer members of her family.
As she scaled the rickety wood, now slick with rainwater, more Orcs and Dragon Tongue rushed up behind her. They were fighting, swords clashing against swords, magic burning bright.
Maria risked a glance back and saw the Orcs prevailing. They were not as big as the one she’d met recently, but they were much bigger in comparison to the Dragon Tongue. Pure, brute force conquered the magic. Maria cringed as she saw innards spill out from sliced bellies, heads lopped off and landing in the mud with a sickening squelch. One Orc had been lit aflame, but he kept coming toward the fleeing Dragon Tongue, swinging his great sword like the blades of a malfunctioning helicopter. The steel broke bones and chopped limbs.
“Get the witch!” the Orc shouted. Maria looked back again and saw this Orc with his sword held high. He stood on a pile of robed bodies.
“Well, fuck,” Maria said under her breath. She planted her feet on the rickety wood. The grip on her shoes slid, and she shouted as she almost plummeted to the gathering Orcs below.
Two took off after her, climbing the structure with cat-like grace. Maria looked down. They both held gleaming daggers in their mouths, while the large hooked swords hung from their belts.
Maria drew on a bit of magical energy and willed it downward. An electric blue cloud walloped the Orc on the left in the face. He cried out, losing the dagger from between his clenched teeth, and
