Page 59 of The Malevolent Eight

‘My mother also tried to kill me,’ Alice said, then looked away as if embarrassed that she might’ve been on the verge of sharing something personal with the rest of us. ‘That was more recent, however.’

‘Angelics have no parents,’ Shame informed us, her fingertips passing across Tenebris’ face as she finished re-sculpting his features and turned to restoring his skin to its original ivory colour and leathery texture. ‘The social customs arising from such affiliations among Mortals always struck me as awkward. Are your progenitors meant to be your masters or your servants?’

‘It’s more complicated than that,’ I replied, although given my own mother had quite happily abandoned me when I was still a boy, I didn’t have much experience on which to base that assertion either.

‘Well, I had a wonderful mother,’ Aradeus chimed in enthusiastically. ‘An absolute delight.’ He was twirling his whiskers, but then paused. ‘Ironically, she was a rat-catcher by profession.’ His fiddling with his facial hair resumed in earnest. ‘A wonderful woman, nonetheless!’

‘How so?’ Galass asked, adding, ‘I was born in the abbey. I never knew my mother.’

‘A pity,’ Aradeus said, drawing his rapier to cut and thrust at an imaginary opponent, all performed with a great many graceful flourishes. ‘Mine taught me to fence, to dance, and– most vital of all– how to comport myself in the company of a lady.’

I was desperately trying to come up with something rude to say about that, but Temper beat me to it. The kangaroo poked his head down through the hole in the ceiling and declared, ‘Motherfuckers.’

‘Okay,thatwas pretty funny,’ I admitted to Corrigan. ‘Maybe he really does have a sense of—What’s wrong?’

I’d expected him to start roaring with laughter, but he was dead silent save for the sparks erupting with even greater force from his fists.

‘Ah, I understand,’ Shame said, finishing the last of the four horns before turning to point at Aradeus. ‘The kangaroo chose to interpret the rat mage’s statement regarding his mother training him on how to behave around women in a sexual context, thus insinuating that Aradeus practised his erotic skills on his own moth—’

‘Shut the hells up!’ Corrigan shouted, heading for the archway that led out of the temple. ‘Are you all deaf or something? Temper wasn’t saying “motherfuckers” as in, “I’d like a nice bowl of paella” or “I need to take a shit, can I use Cade’s tent again?” or even “Aradeus had carnal relations with his mummy”. He saidmotherfuckersas in “There aremotherfuckerssneaking up on us!”’

Whatever doubts I’d had about Corrigan’s special relationship with the kangaroo were banished when Galass’ hair started doing its excellent imitation of dancing scarlet snakes. ‘Corrigan’s right. There are several beings approaching this temple. The flow of life within them is intermixed with the otherworldly qualities of wonderists.’

I spun on Tenebris, fully prepared to re-sculpt his face again without the benefit of Shame’s transfiguration magic. ‘If you’ve screwed us agai—’

The diabolic was admiring his reflection in the glass shard again. ‘Relax, Cade. These are our guys.’

‘We’renoton the same side, arsehole,’ I reminded him. ‘There’s no such thing asourguys. There’s onlymyguys oryourguys, and ifyourguys come any closer, there’s going to be a lot fewer of them.’

My crew were already in position for a fight. Alice had her whip-sword drawn and a nasty demoniac curse on her lips; Corrigan was one wrong move or an accidental sneeze from blowing up half the countryside; Aradeus was kissing the blade of his rapier, which. . . Well, I had no idea what that was supposed to do, but let’s assume it would be devastatingly effective in battle because the alternative was weirder than his story about his mother. Shame was in the midst of transforming herself into something that looked like a four-hundred-pound wrestler with three otter heads sprouting from her neck and shoulders. One day I’ll have to ask her why angelics apparently think otters are the most frightening creatures on the Mortal plane. As for Temper, I wasn’t sure what his preparations had involved, but the droplet of drool that fell through the hole in the ceiling to land on my cheek suggested he was anticipating a tasty meal.

‘Seriously,’ Tenebris said, retrieving the Glorian Banner before stepping past me to the open archway, ‘you got your crew wound way too tight, Cade.’

Outside, eight figures had assembled. Though none were yet casting any spells, I knew every one of the bastards was a wonderist.

Aradeus, his keen eyes darting from one mage to the next, enumerated our potential opponents. ‘Two totemists. The slender beauty with the cat ears is a felinist; the hefty youth with the curved tusks implanted either side of his lower jaw is likely a borinist. The tall fellow with the mahogany bark skin is obviously a florinist, and that delightful blossom of womanliness with the bandolier of keys across her chest is surely a practitioner of portalist magic. Her long-haired companion with the poor sense of personal hygiene and those dozens of shackles dangling from his scrawny arms is clearly an incarcerationist. Equally obvious is the androgynous one who looks like a walking void and must therefore be a cosmist. This leaves only the unassuming chap whose attunement I can’t yet discer—’

‘Infernalist,’ I told him. Those who follow my former vocation prefer to remain inconspicuous: it helps make sure your comrades are the ones who get shot first.

‘Ah, quite right,’ Aradeus agreed. ‘That’s seven, which leaves only the heavy-setbon vivantwith the elaborate moustashios and forked beard commonly found among—’

‘A fuckingluminist?’ Corrigan groaned. ‘Irefuseto fight one of those losers. It’sembarrassing.’ He shoved past Aradeus to peer outside. ‘At least this guy’s not wearing one of those ridiculous multi-coloured coats. In fact. . .’ His eyes narrowed in suspicion, quickly becoming a glare which he aimed squarely at me. ‘What. Are. Those. Guys. Wearing?’

All eight wonderists were dressed in tailored black leather calf-length coats over equally tailored and equally black leather trousers. To top them off were half-cloaks, fluttering majestically in the breeze.

‘Those appear to be uniforms,’ I conceded.

One of the totemists– the young borinist with the idiot tusks mounted into his lower jaw– gave a curt bow and in a reedy voice quite at odds with his presumably intentionally brutish appearance said, ‘We find it useful to make an impression now and then.’

Corrigan’s righteous wrath was a wonder to behold, although I would’ve preferred it had it not been directed at me. ‘Itoldyou we needed uniforms, Cade. Ifuckingtold you. But no, you refused. “We’ll look like a theatre troop,” you said. “It’s unprofessional.” Well, now we’re the ones who could pass for rejects from an under-funded carnival, while these pricks look like proper heroes!’

‘You really think this is what we should be focusing on right now?’

Alice interrupted me. ‘It is true.’ She gestured with the tip of her whip-sword. ‘The uniforms do look impressive.’

‘I must side with Brother Cade here,’ Aradeus said.

‘Thankyou. At least some—’

---