“How…” He shook his head in disbelief. “This… is a better meal than I’ve eaten in half a year.”
“The peas are canned, and the potatoes come from a bag,” said Fantasy. “The venison is all Shield Maiden. She’s really good at hunting with her power. I’ve tried it with my illusions, but it’s harder to trick an animal than a human, if you can believe it.”
“I can,” said Malcolm.
CHAPTER 9
Malcolm had to relearn proper table manners as he ate. He devoured everything, and Fantasy willingly brought him seconds. His stomach was full almost to the point of bursting when he finished clearing his plate a second time. She brought him a glass of wine, which seemed equally decadent to his now simplified palette.
Once the meal was over, Fantasy cleared his plate and disappeared into another room. When she returned, she carried fresh clothes and a towel. She gestured for him to stand and follow.
“Come on,” she said. “You need a bath. I don’t think you realize just how smelly you are.”
“Fair enough,” said Malcolm.
She led him down a hallway, and into Underworld’s extravagant bath room. A massive hot tub, already steaming with water, was sunken into the center of the cement floor. Malcolm wondered how it had come about, but was more interested in climbing in than having his questions answered.
He’d already taken his shirt off when he realized that Fantasy was still in the room, watching him carefully. He raised an eyebrow at her.
“Are you going to watch me bathe?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, simply. “Don’t think that just because you’re down here, you have our complete trust. You could do a lot of damage with your powers, Wind Runner.”
So she doesn’t know that I’m powerless. Maybe it’s better not to tell her?
He wondered if he was violating the tenuous trust that existed between him and the sprytes by not telling her. He decided that the story would have to be told eventually, but it could probably wait until after he’d gotten cleaned up and when Shield Maiden had returned.
“Well?” asked Fantasy. “Don’t tell me you’re too shy to strip in front of a pretty lady?”
Malcolm chuckled.
“Shy isn’t exactly the word I’d use,” he said. Truth be told, he found that as he pulled his pants and boxers off, a jolt of excitement went through him. He could feel Fantasy’s eyes on him. Despite the dirt and grime, his body had grown lean and muscular over the past few months.
He slowly lowered himself into the water, breathing a sigh of pleasure as the heat bled into him. Fantasy brought over soap and a wash cloth, and then surprisingly, sat down next to him, her bare feet and lower legs dipping into the bath.
“How complicated things have become,” said Fantasy, her voice wistful.
Malcolm met her gaze, wondering what she meant by that. He was about to ask when she continued.
“It’s been hard for us down here,” she said. “Not in the same way as you’ve struggled on the surface, I’m sure. But difficult. It’s hard to know what’s happening in the world.”
“It’s as you said,” replied Malcolm. “It’s even harder to be a part of it. The struggle is real. People die every day in Vanderbrook for reasons that are so petty and pointless that you just become numb to it, after a while.”
Fantasy picked up a bar of soap. She ran it across Malcolm’s shoulders, not scrubbing, but washing him with an absentminded casualness.
“You aren’t numb to it, though, are you?” she asked.
Malcolm exhaled slowly.
“I am, and I’m not,” he said. “It depends on the situation. Emotionally… I’m less than I was, back when the world made sense.”
Fantasy’s hands kept roaming. Malcolm was tempted to stop her, but the water felt amazing, and he found himself enjoying her company more than he wanted to.
“We were really close,” she said. “Closer than you might know, Wind Runner. Before Rain Dancer died, and before Zeus began his reign of terror… We were on a path toward a better world.”
“Better?” asked Malcolm. “With Rain Dancer’s methods? You might have been on a path, but I’m not sure it would have led you where you wanted.”
“Maybe not,” said Fantasy. “I don’t blame you for killing him, just so you know. That was a blunder of his own doing. But… How do I explain… Here, maybe it’s easier for me to just show you.”
She closed her eyes. Malcolm saw, more than felt, a shift taking place in the room. He could still feel the water of the tub, but in front of him now was a model of the town of Vanderbrook, not as it was now, but as it once had been.
Except, it wasn’t the Vanderbrook he remembered. Fantasy expanded the illusion, zooming in her focus until Malcolm could see the faces of people walking through the streets. He saw normal humans, but also sprytes and demons.
A human in a hooded sweatshirt passed by a blue skinned demon in a business suit without batting an eyelash. A spryte with bands of gold running up her arms like tattoos played with a group of children, tossing a ball into the air and holding it aloft with her power as the children jumped and reached for it.
The scene progressed further into a park on the north side of town. He remembered playing in it when he was a kid. He saw Fantasy in the illusion, younger than she was, but still a spryte. She was standing across from a teenage boy around the same age as her illusionary self, the two of them staring lovingly into each other’s eyes.
“I don’t remember his name,” said Fantasy. “I just remember that I loved him. Before I became a spryte, and after. I don’t know what happened to him…”
“I’m sorry,” said Malcolm.
“Don’t apologize,” said Fantasy. “Help me. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could still bring this world about?”
“It would,” Malcolm admitted. “But it’s not something that could happen overnight.”
Or possibly ever. I could see humans and sprytes living in harmony… but demons?
He thought of his brother Danny, and the struggle that had consumed him as a demon. Danny had tried to rise above what he’d been, to live peacefully, without hurting people. Malcolm felt old wounds ripping open as he considered what could have been if Danny hadn’t died in the fight against Rain Dancer.
“Maybe not overnight,” admitted Fantasy. “But it isn’t impossible. The world has already been knocked out of its old habits. What becomes of it while it’s built back up… is all a matter of choice.”
The illusion faded. Malcolm looked over at Fantasy and blinked in surprise. She’d stripped off her dress and was slowly sliding into the bath across from him. His eyes were drawn to the large nipples of her breasts, which were still mostly hidden by her long blonde hair.
“What are you –”
“Shh…” said Fantasy. “Don’t say anything.”
Malcolm glanced down, catching sight of his own reflection in the water. Or rather, catching sight of the face of the boy Fantasy had loved, overlain onto his own features through her illusion.
“Fantasy,” he said. “Not cool. I’m not interested in playing your games.”
Her cheeks reddened, and for a moment, Malcolm thought she was going to relent. Instead, she slid in closer to him within the tub, pushing her finger flat against his lips and closing her eyes. She looked like she was ashamed of herself, but clearly had no intention of stopping.
She could do worse things with her illusions, I guess.
He felt his lower half rousing to her proximity. Malcolm didn’t stop Fantasy as she lowered herself onto him and slowly began to move. It meant something else to her, something beyond simple pleasure. Something beyond Malcolm. He was just a stand-in for feelings destined for someone else.