Chapter Nine
I was snoozing on the rock hard bed when a low rumbling sound shook me awake, I could hear the bars of the cell rattling a bit.
I stood up and walked over to the cells bars to see what was going on. The Brute was still sitting on the folding chair, he had turned his head and was looking back towards the warehouse.
I saw a foot soldier walk into the alcove, the Brute stood up and holstered his pistol.
The foot soldier was Peter, I felt my heart sink, so he had been an undercover operative, you will pay for this Peter, I thought to myself.
I noticed Peter's uniform didn't seem to be very snappy and crisp like all the other foot soldiers I had seen, It didn't fit properly and he hadn't bloused his trousers, I also noticed he didn't have boots on, just shoes.
The two men approached each other, then a strange look passed between them, like two animals confronting each other.
They both moved like lightning, almost instantly they were locked into each other's embrace, the Brutes enormous arms flexed as he tried to work his massive hands towards Peter's neck.
"You can do it Peter... he's not so tough!" I yelled, my heart racing in my chest.
I could see the Brute was slowly forcing Peter's arms back, he was obviously stronger, Peter jerked one arm free and then and in a lightning quick move he grabbed the bottom of the Brutes jacket and pulled it over his head blinding him.
The Brute used a hand to try and grab the jacket loosening his grip on Peter, I saw Peter's fist move like a jack hammer raining blow after blow against his opponents head. They seemed to have no effect.
Peter's fist found a soft spot then, the Brute shuddered, like a small tree being struck by an axe, he fell to his hands and knees, I could see he was now trying to reach for his pistol.
Peter walked backwards a few steps almost like he was doing a dance step, I saw the barrel of the pistol appear, Peter walked two steps forward and then booted the Brutes head as hard as he could, I saw it snap up.
The Brute collapsed, he landed spread eagled on the floor, a small pool of blood started growing next to his head.
Peter quickly searched his body, he soon found the cell keys.
"Get his wallet too," I yelled to Peter.
Peter reached into a pocket and grabbed the Brutes wallet, he walked over to my cell and put one of the keys in the lock, he had it open in a few seconds.
I jumped onto him flinging my arms around his neck and kissing him.
"How did you find me?" I asked after I pulled my lips away.
"You can't spend two years selling stuff to the military and not have a few friends."
"Come on we have to hurry," I climbed off of Peter and ran over to the Brute.
With Peter's help we soon had him locked up in the cell I was formerly in, Peter seemed to take a bit of care in moving the Brute, he even ripped a piece of cloth from the Brutes jacket and bandaged his head, he also turned him on his side so he would not choke.
I looked at Peter with a confused expression on my face.
"Hey... he fought the good fight... nobody wins them all."
"A woman would not think that way," I said.
"Um... when we get out of here, I gotta go to a hospital."
"Why?" I asked concerned.
"Pretty sure my foots broken... think I did a bit of ligament damage too," Peter thought for a moment, "twelve times twelve... hundred and forty four right?"
"Ya..."
I saw relief in his face, "no concussion this time, that's good."
I heard a rifle cock behind us, I turned and saw a young foot soldier with a terrified expression on his face.
"Don't move... I want you to walk into one of the cells," he stammered.
"How if we can't move," I asked.
I saw a look of confusion on his face.
"Just do it!" he yelled, his voice cracking.
I calmly grabbed Peter's hand and led him into the cell that had Newfellow's equation written on the wall. I used the keys to lock the door once we were both inside, I then tossed them towards the foot soldier, they landed at his feet.
The soldier cautiously picked them up.
"Hadn't you better help your friends?" I asked him with a blank expression on my face.
"Um... what?"
"The goblins... they'll be here soon... nasty creatures."
I saw the wheels turning in his head, then he stared as us intently.
"Don't you move," he yelled sternly, then he ran away, I heard him in the distance hollering to his compatriots.
"Don't think he'll be the chairman of the Joint Chiefs anytime soon." Peter said.
"Do you have a pen or a pencil?" I asked Peter.
He felt around his pockets then pulled out a ball point pen and handed it to me.
I walked over to the toilet and unrolled some toilet paper, I wrote the spell actuator symbols on the paper, then I made them damp with some water from the sink.
"Stand really close to me," I said to Peter.
I touched the concrete on top of and below the spell with my fingers, I felt a minuscule depression in both areas. I put the actuator symbols in the depressions, the wetness made them stick. I kept my hands in front of them in case there was a camera watching us.
I heard a small noise, and then we were no longer in the cell.
We had appeared in an office, it looked like it hadn't been used in decades there was a thick layer of dust over everything.
I looked at the floor and saw the two wet pieces of toilet paper with the actuator symbols, the spell had been designed to transport them as well, I picked them up and shredded them.
"We're on the first floor... looks like a university campus," Peter was looking out a window.
"How did you break in to the base?" I asked.
Peter turned and looked at me, "used Imhotep's stone moving spell, dropped a twenty ton rock on the hangar, made a nice hole."
"Imhotep?"
Peter took off his uniform shirt revealing civilian clothes underneath, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a very old leather bound book.
"Tom Sampson's journal," he handed it to me.
"I thought you said it was boring," I said as I grabbed it.
"I lied."
"So this is what you found... not the comics."
"Ya... used a copier spell at a comic book convention to get those"
"How competent a sorcerer are you?"
Peter laughed, "after blowing up my shop... I gave up, the Frambulator is just the stone moving spell, knocks twenty tons off the takeoff weight, that's the secret."
"How about Sampson?"
"He was about as crappy as me, the notes he took are missing some important stuff."
"Notes from what?"
"He found Imhotep's tomb, after he left Desmanille, he was an ancient sorcerer."
I opened up the journal at a random spot and started to read.
I wanted to shoot the man with my revolver, that idiot, we're going to die here and he prattles on about great leadership, that breeding determines a man's status.
He still thinks the caravan is going to find us,
"they are peasants it is in their nature to serve their true superiors to the limit of their abilities... that is why they will come."
I have decided to leave, I would rather take my chances with the vultures.
I skipped to another spot in the book.
I keep thinking it's a mirage, or I've lost my mind, if it is a fantasy I wonder why the water in the fountain tastes kind of muddy.
If only I had brought my camera equipment, the paintings on the tombs walls are of such beauty as to cause a man to weep, there is one of a Magical City that looks so wondrous I cannot believe it could ever have existed.
I skipped to another spot.
I have found some of Imhotep's spells, I was even able to activate one using my almost nonexistent skill in hieroglyphic translation, my mind swims with the possibilities of thi
s. Thankfully I brought some tracing paper, I was able to reproduce many sheets of it with one of his spells. I will try to make rubbings of all the hieroglyphs.
I closed the book and handed it back to Peter.
"You keep it, you'll get more use out of it then me," he said.
"Did he ever go back to the tomb?"
"He could never find it again... what about you, what's your story?"
I looked at Peter, "you know that magical city he talks about in here," I pointed to the journal.
"Ya."
"I built it."
Peter's eyes went wide.
"How old are you?"
"I'm twenty... something, and I'm six thousand years old... it's a complicated story."
"You're Kemamonit," Peter blurted out.
"You've heard of me?"
"There is a couple of references to you in the journal, you were the wife of Senbi an ancient sorcerer."
I felt a bolt of anger, "I was not his wife... that's another complicated story."
"What do we do now?"
"Do you have your cell phone?"
Peter handed me a rectangular device with a flat screen, I activated the web browser then typed in the address for a mail service, Donut post, it was a spinoff of the STRUDEL search website, I had created an account previously.
I sent an email to another account, I had set up a spell with the help of a nerdy friend of my former apprentice Shelley.
I hadn't liked him much, but he was quite clever when it came to the arcane workings of the internet, he had had a weird obsession with clouds for some reason, he even talked about them in the third person.
A few seconds after I had sent the email my bracelet appeared floating in the air beside me, I quickly put it on.
I would have to be careful with it from now on for the recovery spell was written so it would only work once.
"I do not trust these devices, I think they are used to watch us," I said to Peter.
"I got no use for it anymore, I don't think I can just go back."
I used my bracelet to quickly dispel it.
"Where is it now?" Peter asked.
"On the surface of the moon."
I then conjured up some clothing, which I quickly put on. I looked at Peter, he was wearing an expensive suit and tie.
"You look very conspicuous," I said.
I quickly conjured up some more clothes after asking him his size, he was soon standing next to me wearing jeans and a t-shirt, he could not put his shoes on because of his broken foot.
"Now we go to the hospital, stand close to me," I said as I flipped the squares on my bracelet.
We appeared outside the emergency room of a large hospital in Stockholm Sweden, I had done some research previously and this hospital had the perfect combination of competent physicians and comprehension of English, they also took cash.
Peter was soon using hobbling out the main entrance with cast on his foot and crutches under his arms.
"The doctor said it isn't too bad, have to wear it for a few weeks," Peter said.
"What about the other stuff?"
"Just strains and bruises, what are we gonna do now?"
"Eat dinner, get some sleep," it was almost midnight here.
"Can we get a hotel this late?"
I reached into my handbag and showed Peter a large stack of the local currency.
"I don't think we'll have a problem."
"Geez... you can just conjure it up?" Peter had an amazed look on his face.
"A properly trained sorcerer can conjure anything up."
It was only an hour later before we had satisfied our appetites and were sleeping together in a large comfortable bed.