Richards.
"Mm-huh," said Bear. "Their collective was already up and running when I got pulled in. It was all going so well for them, and now look at this." A paw swept round the devastation. "Shocking."
The YamaYama looked like he'd been sucked dry, his face an expression of agony that suggested he had been alive to suffer it.
"What did it?" asked Richards.
"Haemites," said Bear. "One of Penumbra's lot," and he shook his long head until his little helmet rattled.
"Who is this Penumbra?"
"I've said too much. Got to keep you fresh for the debrief. Forget it, if you're not shamming, that is." The bear squinted suspiciously. He wrinkled his nose. "Hey, can you hear that?"
"What?" said Richards.
"That."
There was a ring of metal, then another.
"Is that a swordfight?"
Bear shrugged. "Mebbe. I'm going to check it out. You can stay here if you want."
"Aren't I your prisoner?" said Richards.
Bear grinned a daggered grin. "And where you going to go, sunshine?"
They hurried to the far side of the village, toward the sound of mêlée.
"Get back! Get back, I say!" Clang! Clang! "Avast! Avaunt! Begone!" Clang, clang, clang-clang.
There was a tumult of steam whistles, a frantic scrabbling, and four figures came haring round the carcass of a smouldering house, stumbling to a stop of blades and curses twenty metres from Richards and Bear.
One of them was a man, his face furrowed with concentration. He wore slashed velvet clothes of eye-watering purple, a goatee on his face. A large hat sat atop his sweat-damp hair, decorated with a long, bedraggled feather.
"A cavalier!" whispered the Bear with some delight. "Or he looks not unlike one. He certainly fights with their panache. Let's watch," he said, and pulled Richards into the shelter of a ruined cottage.
The cavalier handled a silver blade with an ease that belied its unwieldiness, shaped as it was like a huge feather. In and out it went, turning away the weapons of his adversaries. Yet his movements were slowing, flickering a semaphore of desperation.
His opponents were iron homunculi a metre and a half tall. Stooped and misshapen, they moved with an ugly grace.
"Hee hee! Hee hee! Kill him! Kill him! Eat his eyes! Stab his heart!"
"Ha ha! Break his bones! Smash his skull! Strip his meat! Take him apart!"
Each was the colour of ancient rust. Their faces were intricate masks. Clanking mechanical noises issued from them, a ratcheting hum underlying the swordplay.
"Hoo hoo hoo!" chittered a third. "Take his blood! Eat! Eat! Eat!"
"Bloody Hell, clockwork goblins," said Richards. "This place gets weirder by the minute." The bear was watching with an expression approaching enjoyment. Richards elbowed the toy in its gut. "Go on then, help him," he said.
Bear shrugged. "Not my problem."
Richards scowled. "Some soldier you are. Well, I can't just stand here." He stepped out into plain sight. "Oi!" he shouted, his plan running out with that.
One of the haemites turned from the fight. "What's this? What's this? Fresh meat! Fresh meat!" A whistle on its shoulder tooted. It whirred towards Richards.
"Run, you fool! Flee!" shouted the cavalier. "Be away swiftly before they are upon you!" And he redoubled his efforts to drive back the haemites besetting him, but to no avail, and they tooted as they pressed him harder. "For the love of god! Don't let it touch you!"
The creature came closer to Richards. It smelt of furnaces and stale water. "Hee hee, hee hee hee!" it gibbered. "Slow we'll go, slow and nice. Best for me!"
Richards scooped up a house brick and bounced it off the haemite to no effect. "Ah, balls," he said.
"Oh, for the… Ahem!" shouted the bear. "Hands off my prisoner!"
"A bear!" the machine screeched.
"A bear?" queried a second.
"Where?" cried the third.
"There!" hollered the fourth.
"More, more!" cried the
"Mm-huh," said Bear. "Their collective was already up and running when I got pulled in. It was all going so well for them, and now look at this." A paw swept round the devastation. "Shocking."
The YamaYama looked like he'd been sucked dry, his face an expression of agony that suggested he had been alive to suffer it.
"What did it?" asked Richards.
"Haemites," said Bear. "One of Penumbra's lot," and he shook his long head until his little helmet rattled.
"Who is this Penumbra?"
"I've said too much. Got to keep you fresh for the debrief. Forget it, if you're not shamming, that is." The bear squinted suspiciously. He wrinkled his nose. "Hey, can you hear that?"
"What?" said Richards.
"That."
There was a ring of metal, then another.
"Is that a swordfight?"
Bear shrugged. "Mebbe. I'm going to check it out. You can stay here if you want."
"Aren't I your prisoner?" said Richards.
Bear grinned a daggered grin. "And where you going to go, sunshine?"
They hurried to the far side of the village, toward the sound of mêlée.
"Get back! Get back, I say!" Clang! Clang! "Avast! Avaunt! Begone!" Clang, clang, clang-clang.
There was a tumult of steam whistles, a frantic scrabbling, and four figures came haring round the carcass of a smouldering house, stumbling to a stop of blades and curses twenty metres from Richards and Bear.
One of them was a man, his face furrowed with concentration. He wore slashed velvet clothes of eye-watering purple, a goatee on his face. A large hat sat atop his sweat-damp hair, decorated with a long, bedraggled feather.
"A cavalier!" whispered the Bear with some delight. "Or he looks not unlike one. He certainly fights with their panache. Let's watch," he said, and pulled Richards into the shelter of a ruined cottage.
The cavalier handled a silver blade with an ease that belied its unwieldiness, shaped as it was like a huge feather. In and out it went, turning away the weapons of his adversaries. Yet his movements were slowing, flickering a semaphore of desperation.
His opponents were iron homunculi a metre and a half tall. Stooped and misshapen, they moved with an ugly grace.
"Hee hee! Hee hee! Kill him! Kill him! Eat his eyes! Stab his heart!"
"Ha ha! Break his bones! Smash his skull! Strip his meat! Take him apart!"
Each was the colour of ancient rust. Their faces were intricate masks. Clanking mechanical noises issued from them, a ratcheting hum underlying the swordplay.
"Hoo hoo hoo!" chittered a third. "Take his blood! Eat! Eat! Eat!"
"Bloody Hell, clockwork goblins," said Richards. "This place gets weirder by the minute." The bear was watching with an expression approaching enjoyment. Richards elbowed the toy in its gut. "Go on then, help him," he said.
Bear shrugged. "Not my problem."
Richards scowled. "Some soldier you are. Well, I can't just stand here." He stepped out into plain sight. "Oi!" he shouted, his plan running out with that.
One of the haemites turned from the fight. "What's this? What's this? Fresh meat! Fresh meat!" A whistle on its shoulder tooted. It whirred towards Richards.
"Run, you fool! Flee!" shouted the cavalier. "Be away swiftly before they are upon you!" And he redoubled his efforts to drive back the haemites besetting him, but to no avail, and they tooted as they pressed him harder. "For the love of god! Don't let it touch you!"
The creature came closer to Richards. It smelt of furnaces and stale water. "Hee hee, hee hee hee!" it gibbered. "Slow we'll go, slow and nice. Best for me!"
Richards scooped up a house brick and bounced it off the haemite to no effect. "Ah, balls," he said.
"Oh, for the… Ahem!" shouted the bear. "Hands off my prisoner!"
"A bear!" the machine screeched.
"A bear?" queried a second.
"Where?" cried the third.
"There!" hollered the fourth.
"More, more!" cried the
Similar Books
![Their Unusual Mating [Paranormal Protection Unit 5] (Siren Publishing Classic)](https://fs.dianahicksbooks.com/474040/thumbs/152x264/their-unusual-mating-paranormal-protection-unit-5-siren-publishing-classic.png)
