Book 3: Chapter 29: Chekhov's Crab

Book 3: Chapter 29: Chekhov's Crab

You, as a descendant of the great Kraken Rider, should beware anyone selling directions to the heavens. This does not, however, mean one shouldn’t try the techniques and meditations of other sects, churches, and families. Knowledge may be gleaned from the guidance of others, after all, even if your only insight is what not to do.

Though easier described than practiced, one should follow the whispers of their mind and body. There are many roads to enlightenment, and only one’s instinct can be relied upon to take the correct path.

Excerpt from Chapter 6, House Kraken Manual

“Are you serious, Barry?” I asked as I patted Bill and Pelly, the birds crooning and leaning into my touch.

My two trusty pelicans had come and retrieved Roger and me, putting a pause on our battle. The moment we’d seen the panic in their avian eyes, Roger and I had raced back to New Tropica. Finding the gathering outside of the prison had been a surprise, but nowhere near as unexpected as the reaction Barry had to the question I’d just voiced.

He seemed to sink into himself, his expression growing dark. I thought it would be momentary, but he only seemed to become more troubled with each passing second. He stared over at Deklan and Dom, the two men resting against a wall after having been dropped off by Borks.

“Everything okay, mate?” I asked Barry, raising an eyebrow, but he ignored me, his worried gaze locked on the two brothers.

He marched over, stopped before them, and bowed at the waist. “I’m sorry. I let my enjoyment of the plan coming together cloud my judgment. It is my fault you were attacked.”

“Huh?” Deklan blurted, putting voice to exactly what I was thinking.

Barry lowered himself to his knees, bending so his forehead almost touched the ground. “I should have neutralized the threat immediately. Instead, I dragged it out for my own amusement. Any number of us could have knocked Nathan out before he had a chance to experience a breakthrough. I can’t take it back, but I promise that I will learn from this grievous error.

“Er,” Deklan said. “I think you’re being a bit too harsh on yourself.”

“Agreed, but apology accepted,” Dom added. “We’ve experienced worse, right, Deklan?” He nudged his brother, giving him a meaningful look.

“Oh, yeah. Evil powers are bad and all, but they don’t hold a candle to our dear mother’s cooking.”

Dom guffawed. “Remember the apricot chicken? That woman made meals that could have put the Cult of the Alchemist’s vilest concoctions to shame.”

“Oh, you bastard. I’d managed to forget the apricot chicken. What about the time she added those flavor bulbs to a stir fry? I swear, I loved that woman like nothing else, but some of the things she came up with...”

As the two brothers continued listing off their late mother’s crimes against humanity, apparently unaffected by their brush with death, Barry slowly raised his head, utter confusion plastering his face. When it finally dawned on him that they truly weren’t bothered, he stood and turned my way, bowing at the waist again. “You were right to chastise me, Fischer. I won’t let it happen again.”

“Uhhhh, I didn’t chastise you?” I leaned toward Maria, who was at my side. “Did I chastise Barry?” I stage whispered. “Because I didn’t mean to.”

“I don’t think so?” she replied, peering between Barry and me consideringly. “You did ask him if he was serious, though, which he maybe took as a reprimand?”

“Ohhhh.” I clicked my fingers. “Is that what you meant, mate?”

He blinked at me, apparently unprepared for no one to be angry at him. “Yes...?” he slowly said. “You had every right to call me out on my failure.”

“Yeah, nah. I wasn’t at all upset about that. Your plan came together wonderfully, considering how complicated it was.”

He gave me the same look of confusion he’d given the brothers a moment ago. “What were you talking about, then?”

“You set up a double-cross without me! A crime most foul.”

“All right, you lost me,” Maria said, narrowing her eyes at me.

Barry, clearly agreeing with the sentiment, stood upright and shook his head. “What on Kallis are you talking about? You told me to keep you out of everything possible, which I’ve been respecting. You wanted to be kept in the dark.”

“Well, yeah! I usually want to be kept out of things, but a double-cross?” I gestured at Anna and the rest of the allied conspirators. “A double-cross with undercover agents?” I let out a sigh. “Frankly, I’m insulted you didn’t bring me in on the fun. I missed out on a good time.”

Everyone just stared at me, and when one spoke, I continued yapping.

“You warned me that Roger would start a tussle with me for the purpose of some secret mission, but I had no idea it would be for something so exciting. I thought it would be a boring plan, like showing our new friends how strong we are. Or how grumpy Roger is. Next time you’ve got some plot right out of a thriller, bring me in, my guy. Also...” I turned toward Roger. “I was told you’d start a tussle with me, not that you’d try and turn me into deli meat. Show some restraint, you peanut.”

The wind washed over George, making the shape of his body seem to dissolve into a cloud of sensations. Calm as he was, the explosion of chi earlier had hardly affected him, his consciousness becoming more used to them over the past week.

He unleashed a slow, ponderous breath, following its passage with his awareness as it flowed from his mouth. When he opened his eyes, he found Joel, the leader of Tropica’s Cult of Carcinization branch, smiling at him.

“I know I’m repeating myself here, George, but I must thank you again.”

“You really don’t need to—”

“Nonsense,” Joel interrupted, gesturing at the rest of the cultists and Geraldine, who were deep in meditation. “The past week since we exchanged the cult’s techniques with your house’s manual has been wondrous and enlightening. To think we’ve come so far in a mere span of days...” He smiled even wider, crows feet appearing beside his eyes. “I can’t help but feel like we are almost taking steps on the path of carcinization.”

“We should be the ones thanking you,” Geraldine said, opening her eyes and resting a hand on George’s leg. “Your insights and techniques have been invaluable.”

Joel nodded. “I’m glad we’ve been of similar benefit to the both of you.” He paused, pursing his lips for a moment. “After today’s meditation, are you still sure that the superior form of the crab isn’t for you...?”

George grimaced. They’d had this same discussion daily. “I’m afraid I have to follow my instincts still, Joel, just as the Kraken manual instructs. I can’t speak for my wife, but for me, the form doesn’t feel correct.”

“You can speak for me, dear,” Geraldine said, reaching over and squeezing his hand. “You know it doesn’t feel right for me either. Sorry, Joel.”

Jess, Joel’s second in command, groaned as she stood and stretched. “Again, Joel?” She walked over and sat down next to Joel, leaving the other members to their meditation. “I think it might be time to accept our friends’ words.” She smiled at George and Geraldine. “You’re always welcome to join our sessions regardless of whether or not carcinization feels right to you.”

George barely heard her last sentence—he was still tripping over the previous one.

I think it might be time to accept our friends’ words, Jess had said, with no hint or deception in her voice.

“Friends....?” Geraldine asked. “Did you call us your... friends?”

George glanced to his left, his heart breaking when he saw her face. The statement had impacted her too, causing tears to swell in her eyes. As he watched, one of them fell, slowly rolling down her cheek.

“Oh, dear...” George said, reaching out to wipe it away.

Jess inhaled sharply, covering her mouth. “Did I say something wrong? I didn’t mean to overstep, my lady.”

George smiled at her, his own emotions threatening to boil over. “Not at all. We are grateful for your friendship, and my lady wife’s reaction is one of...” George trailed off as an odd whistling sound came to his ear, and he cocked his head to the side, trying to discern where it was coming from. “Can you all hear that?”

Geraldine cupped a hand to her ear as she blinked away her tears. “What is it...?”

All too late, he stared up.

A creature of nightmare approached, its form massive and limbs numerous.

“Get back—”

It struck the ground like a boulder, sending sand flying in every direction. George scrambled between Geraldine and the monster, raising his fists in a defensive posture. “Run!” he ordered, but Geraldine remained at his back, her hands gripping his arm.

“I won’t leave you!”

“You must!” he hissed. “I can’t stand the idea of... what the frack?” he said, inadvertently copying a curse he’d heard thrown around by the commonfolk.

The sand had cleared enough for him to see, and what he found was enough to reset his thoughts.

The monster remained in the crater it had made, slowly getting to its many legs. Rather than run, the cultists were facedown in the sand, kneeling so low that their foreheads pressed into the sand. The creature stood upright in all its majesty, its beady eyes staring down at the bowing humans with an imperious gaze. It was covered in a hardened shell, with claws big enough to sever a man’s leg.

It was a spirit beast. George could feel it and the power it held.

“Frack me,” Geraldine said from beside him, also borrowing the commonfolk’s vernacular. “Maybe you were right about the crab form, Joel...”