There is no greater fear in a man's life than the sheer unbridled terror he feels on seeing his ex-wife.
Especially if his ex-wife was Lady Madeline Westingham, daughter of the very mad drunkard General Bucky Lee Westingham whose feats of extraordinary valour could fill a few miserly cups in any tavern but whose reputation for brutal vengeance over petty slights would empty that tavern and the surrounding area before anyone thought to mention them.
Just in case.
Madeline was an exceptional beauty. One whose incredible curves and searingly intense gaze had captivated me when I was a young and naïve lad still doing the odd favour for the military. That's how I met her.
Her father had gleefully introduced us, passed me a bottle of wine, wished me luck, then skedaddled with remarkable speed.
One moment I was sipping a slightly too-sour red, and the next moment I seemed to be stumbling up the aisle of a wretched old church to the boisterous cheers of the mad General who promptly told me if I even thought about leaving the church that his cadre of loyal mages outside would ensure I wouldn't be walking for very long.
Confused, and more than a little hungover, I stammered my way through vows punched deep into my kidneys by the mad General's hissing, and that was that.
I was a married man.
Hitched to a rail.
The rail being a woman who had fallen so close to the tree that her skin still had a few scrapes.
Mad didn't begin to describe her.
Shuddering, I led Poppy down the alley, glancing back once or twice in abject horror as I imagined seeing Madeline soaring towards me on a broom.
"Ex-wife?" Poppy stuttered. "You were married?"
"A long time ago," I growled.
"How long ago?"
"Not long enough!" I nervously slowed down at the mouth of the alley and peered out into the street. Empty. But that meant nothing. There were far too many shadows.
"Umm…"
"Look," I turned to her, feeling my pulse race wildly in my chest. "We were married for three days. I wouldn't have married her in the first place, but I was heavily guarded and hadn't yet got the hang of void portals. I was still mostly using fire magic and compensating with summoning shoggoths. Like I said. It was a very long time ago."
Poppy squinted at me. "But you must have liked her to marry her."
"I never even knew her," I said. "Her father threw her at me, and the next morning dragged me into a chapel and forced me into marriage."
"Really?"
"Really. Luckily, my father knew some lawyers."
"Lawyers? They got you out of a marriage?"
"They were very good lawyers."
"Okay," she said, looking as confused as I had been when I'd been spitting out blood and vows. "Why are we running from her, though?"
"Poppy," I said, taking her chin and lifting her gaze to mine. I stared deep into her eyes, trying to instil in her a great sense of importance which I was trying to impart. "My ex-wife is insane. Not only will she kill you. She'll skin you alive, drink your blood, and do things to your organs that would make Noodle smile."
"She can't be that bad…" Poppy blinked sceptically. "All men say that about their wives. I think it's very unfair."
"And I might normally agree with you," I told her. "But trust me when I say Madeline is more than a little bit unstable."
"Madeline? Is that her name?"
"Yes," I winced. "Try not to say it too loud. I'm sure it will summon her."
Poppy giggled, shaking her head at me. "Now you're just being silly."
"I am not," I hissed. "Poppy, you must understand that Lady Westingham is not the kind of woman to be trifled with."
"Lady Westingham?" Poppy's face paled. "You were married to Lady Westingham? And now she's, what? Stalking you?"
"I don't know why she's here," I said. "I had meant to see her. But I wasn't prepared for it yet. I need time to get some things ready first. So, for now, we have to keep out of her way if we can."
"And if we can't?"
I patted her on the head in what I hoped was a reassuring manner. "Then I will remember you fondly."
"Eep!"
And then she collapsed.
Asleep.
"Gah!" I snatched her little body as she fell, carefully cradling her head.
And stood there.
In silence.
Holding the young woman in my arms as water dripped off a nearby drain with a dreadfully deep noise that sounds like it was chanting doom doom doom.
"Poppy," I called, giving her cheek gentle pats. "Wake up, Poppy. I need you to wake up so we can run. Poppy?"
The girl snored at me.
And then the shadows at the end of the alley moved in a way which caused the hairs on the back of my neck to ripple.
"Madeline," I breathed, gulping hard.
And turned and ran. It was difficult to run with Poppy cradled in my arms, but I did it anyway. I had to lope along with an ungentlemanly gait as I tried to keep my balance.
At the end of the street, I turned into a lane with small crowds of people browsing a line of shops. Darting through them, I looked back. The shadows weren't following. Looking to my left, I saw a bakery.
Mrs Muggins' bakery.
Their pies were famous.
A woman was buying a pie.
She turned.
And smiled.
It was Madeline!
Gasping in horror, I darted down the lane, my coat flapping in panic behind me. Glancing back, I saw Madeline sitting at a table in a café I had just passed.
She was biting into a crusty pie.
Her eyes glinted with and evil flash.
I threw myself into another alley, almost ploughing through a small cluster of drunks competing in a game of vomit-on-the-rats.
Shouldering past, I looked back.
She wasn't there.
Nor was she in front of me.
I almost sighed, but a flicker of movement made me look up.
Madeline.
Perched on the rooftop of a four-storey building. Her pie mostly eaten. She lifted a hand and gave me a coquettish wave.
I stumbled out of the alley, looking back.
She was gone.
I knew I could get away. All I had to do was rip open a portal and dive into the void. My whole body screamed at me to do this. Fear made my fingers itch to do it.
But Poppy couldn't survive in the void. She'd go mad almost instantly with her delicate constitution. There was no way I could take her into the void without some form of protection, and the protection I could provide wouldn't be sufficient for a fully sentient being.
All I could do was run.
Because a gentleman would never abandon an innocent woman to a fate so bad as that which Madeline Westingham would crush her under.
Bursting out of the alley, I found myself in a crowded street.
Crowds were good, I told myself.
What could she do to me in a crowd?
I panted, feeling very hot.
"Taran? You look like you need a cold drink," Madeline called from a small lemonade shop to my right.
I clenched my jaw.
And shoved myself through the crowd, aiming for a laneway up ahead.
But as I got close, I saw Madeline leaning against the wall next to it. Looking at her fingernails.
I spun, diving into another street. Desperation nipping at my heels.
Panic starting to really pull the threads of my sanity apart.
I could feel the Old Twit focusing on me.
He nudged me.
And I followed the nudge, finding a small door in the wall of a tall building. Scrambling, I pulled it open. It was a stairwell. Looked left, right, and upward.
No Madeline.
I dived inside, barely able to hold Poppy anymore.
The Old Twit seemed to hum to himself. And I had the feeling I would be safe here.
Hopefully long enough to get Poppy walking again. I set her down gently on the stair and sprawled down next to her, still breathing hard. Sweat ran down my cheeks. My lungs felt like they were burning.
My eyes were drawn to the thin line of light under the door.
A shadow darkened it for a moment as someone walked past outside.
I held my breath.
The shadow returned.
Paused.
Waiting.
I glanced at the door. I had forgotten to lock it!
How could I be so stupid?
The shadow flicked away, letting me let out the quietest sigh of relief I'd ever sighed as I crept back to the door and gently pulled the lock into place.
It wouldn't stop her for long, though.
"Taran?" Poppy murmured, stirring slowly.
"Shh," I whispered. "Keep your voice down or she'll hear us."
Her frightened eyes flicked open and she took in the stairwell. The locked door. Nodding, she snatched my arm and pulled herself against me. While it might have made her feel safer, I couldn't feel the same.
"Taran?" A feminine voice called from the alley. "Husband, I know you're here somewhere! Come out, sweetie, and let's talk to a therapist together. I'm sure we can sort everything out!"
Poppy gulped.
I gulped.
We were doomed.