chapter twelve ; the dungeon

Collie Parker kicked the wall, muttered profanity under his breath, and kicked the wall again for good measure. He'd been in the dungeon for… well, he didn't know exactly how long he'd been in here, but he did know that it had been too damn long. Davidson had been taken almost immediately, Parker didn't know what for but he was glad that he didn't have the idiot hanging on the back of his shirt twenty-four-seven.

Still, being stuck in a cell with half a dozen other losers wasn't the most fun. When he'd first got here, they'd attempted to intimidate him, then they'd asked what he'd done, and then, finally, they'd left him the fuck alone. So he'd passed the time the best way he knew how – by kicking things and swearing.

He was about to kick the wall again when he glanced to the side and saw Art Baker's face through the bars.

"What the fuck," he said. Baker smiled at him, and he repeated himself.

"Come on," Baker said. He pulled open the door, and Parker glanced at the others. They didn't seem to be paying any attention – actually, as he really looked at them, he realized that they weren't even moving. "They won't escape, now come on before it wears off."

Parker decided that his life would get decidedly easier if he just didn't question it. So that's exactly what he did – or, rather, didn't – do. He just stepped out of the cell, Baker pushed it shut, and then he was free.

"Why couldn't you have come right away?" Parker asked as they headed out. Baker took the two of them out a side exit that Parker hadn't known existed. "Damn, that was the most goddam annoying place I've ever fucking been."

"I've been busy," Baker said. He took a deep breath. "Next up we have to rescue Abraham, too, so-"

"Rescue him? Ain't he just at home? Can't he just fucking walk out?"

"No," Baker said. He pursed his lips. "It's kind of complicated. Also, I don't know where Davidson is."

"Good riddance," Parker muttered. The two of them walked through the castle grounds, and though it made Parker nervous to be right out in the open, Baker didn't seem to be having any problems, nerves or otherwise. "My shirt's going to be all goddam stretched out forever now."

"Is that really what you're worried about?" Baker asked, and Parker gave him a look. Baker raised his hands in surrender and shrugged. "I just thought we had a lot of bigger things to worry about, like Gary Barkovitch and how we're going to keep you out of sight."

"Just do your magic shit," Parker said, waving his hand dismissively. Baker sighed.

"I can't do it all the time. I have to recharge sometimes."

"Well, they didn't catch us at our hideout, right? Let's just go back there, and you can make me unseen just when we're out of there. Right?"

Baker nodded, though he looked doubtful. "I guess that could work," he said. "Except Barkovitch-"

"Oh, who gives a shit about Barkobitch," Parker snapped. Up ahead of him, the guard stopped as if someone had thrown out an arm and caught him in the chest. "What the fuck's going on up there?"

Baker frowned. "Barkovitch," he said. "But he's… he's with a guard?"

Gary Barkovitch shimmered into view and he turned around to face the two of them. The guard, holding his stomach, turned with him. It was one of the ones that had caught Parker – the one with the scar on his face. Upon seeing the two of them, he smirked and gave them a half-wave.

"What did you just call me, Blondie?" Barkovitch asked, crossing the distance between them quickly. He jabbed a finger in Parker's chest, who just looked down on him, unimpressed.

"Barkobitch," he said. "Baker, why can he see us?"

"Because he's good at that sort of thing," Baker said. "I was going to tell you that magicians would probably be able to see through, especially ones with Barkovitch's background, but-"

\ "You were not going to tell me. You were just wandering around with that stupid look on your face."

"Well-"

The guard with the scarred face clapped his hands together once. "Shut up, the lot of you," he said. There was a weird smile on his face. Parker disliked him immediately. "Let's go around and introduce ourselves like good citizens. I'll assume that the magic that both of our dear magicians has cast makes you lot invisible?"

"Yeah, you just look like an idiot, talking to yourself," Barkovitch said. The guard winced.

"Alright," he said. "Well, I'm Peter McVries. You guys?"

"Art Baker," Baker said. Parker, realizing that it was his time, crossed his arms.

"Collie Parker," he spat out. "And you, Barkobitch?"

"It's a v, dumbass. Gary Barkovitch."

"I like Barkobitch," McVries said. "It has a ring to it that the 'v' fails to bring."

"Shut it!"

"Now," McVries said. He clapped his hands again. "You two, while I would normally have you guys taken to wherever you're supposed to be, like the dungeon or execution block or whatever, are going to get off scot-free. Mostly because I'm going to be helping our dear Barkobitch kill a prostitute."

"Davidson," Baker said.

"That's right," McVries said. "Not sure where he is. Neither is Barkobitch. But we can look it up, I'm sure it's around here somewhere."

"Why do you want to kill Davidson? Most goddam useless guy on the planet, he is," Parker said. McVries contemplated it, then turned to Barkovitch.

"Why do you want to kill the prostitute?"

Barkovitch shifted, a slight flush entering his cheeks. "He found my secret hideout," he said, his voice small. At that moment, he looked about twelve years old.

Parker snorted, and after a bit, McVries started laughing. Baker tried not to laugh, but eventually he started giggling a little as well.

And then they were all flat on their asses, about thirty feet from Barkovitch, who was scowling. Baker immediately bit off a chunk of his skin and shoved his bleeding wrist into the ground, bringing up about thirty undead warriors.

"Uh," McVries said. "That's overkill. What's-"

Barkovitch turned to glare at him, and McVries stood up. He was a little shaky on his feet, but he was standing. Parker tried to do the same, but found that he couldn't. The undead warriors surrounded Baker, waiting for a command. Baker's eyes were glazed over, and Parker would have been worried if he cared.

"Attack," Baker said, voice distant and disconnected.

And on that note no more updates ever probably.