I limped downstairs, watching Owl's footprints disappear by the front door, and made my way to the kitchen. The bugs were still at it. What were they even eating? Owl made it sound like the city fell years ago. Also, where did he even get the water? There is no way a single tank could sustain him for years. I guess I'll have to ask later.
I did my best to clean the counter and found what looked like the top of an induction oven under the dust. There were four hubs; on the side of the setup was a small round slot.
I fished out the core and took a closer look. It was round and spotless. Unlike my fingerprints on glass, nothing stuck to its surface. It was perfectly clear.
It still bothered me that this thing could apparently explode if damaged, so I decided to be quick. I slid the core into the slot. The core started to glow with a soft blue light and, to my complete shock, what looked like an LED display made of runes lit up on the counter. The outlines of the four hubs glowed blue, and a few inches to the side a volume adjuster appeared.
"Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic..." I remembered the saying. I looked at my phone, pondering. 'How do I know if what we had on Earth was magic or technology? This looks pretty similar...'
I fished the pan from my backpack, set it on the stove, and filled it with water from my bottle. I dumped the grain into the pot and turned the handle up to halfway. In a few minutes the water started to boil.
'This is just an induction oven. It's made of runes and powered by a magical core, but at its essence it's the same thing.' I covered the pot with its lid.
'So, is the core just a battery? An extremely efficient battery? These are also found inside those creatures; they are one of the reasons they exist in the first place. Owl said that people can form cores like this — at least his people could. Can I do the same? Will I be able to use magic when I do?'
[A few hours later]
I wasn't taking any chances with the grain, I let it go until it was falling apart when I poked it with a fork. I didn't want to have any... stomach problems. I used some water and another pot I found to boil and sterilize some utensils, then served myself in the dining room. I used a deep plate, it was beautifully decorated with flowers and designs made with fantastic artisanship. Well, not that it mattered a single bit, since it all got covered up by the gray slop that the the grain turned into.
'I guess it's, uh... bon appétit?'
I brought a spoon of gray slop to my mouth and tasted it. It was fine — like eating mashed potatoes with no salt, no cream, no butter, nothing that would make it a dish instead of just boiled, mashed potatoes.
I took my time eating, watching the last percent of my phone battery slide away and cut me off completely from human technology. I didn't feel as bad as I thought I would — I worried more about not having a light at night than about feeling disconnected.
'Was it the dream?' It still left me with a weird feeling I couldn't explain. Surely my life wouldn't have turned out exactly that way, right? Something told me it would have.
After filling my stomach with the gray slop, I went outside. I knew I shouldn't, but I couldn't stomach staying inside either. I scanned the alleyways between the houses to make sure nothing prowled around. Then I sat on one of the benches, staring at the dead tree.
I didn't like how contemplative I'd been feeling. I was never someone who spent a lot of time thinking about this and that. I had been a man of action, that's why training filled up so much of my life. Now I couldn't train or walk around, only God knew what awaited me on the streets. I had a knife, but with my leg the way it was, I couldn't defend myself even if I tried. And from Owl's reaction yesterday, if I got even a scratch from those things, it would be game over.
'I would do better just ending myself with the core if that happened.' I shuddered.
'This is stupid. I'll just go inside and sleep.'
I got up to leave... and froze.
When had it gotten there? Had I been so distracted that I hadn't even noticed? On the other side of the tree, across the alleyway and standing in the street, was... an emaciated statue. At least that's how it looked at first. I knew it was no statue; earlier there had been nothing in that alley.
It wasn't looking at me; it stared ahead into the road. For some reason it had stopped right there, exactly where I could see it.
My heart turned cold. I had a terrible, terrible feeling about this.
Then I felt it: a faint breeze caressing the hairs on my head, blowing toward the creature.
'It smelled the blood on my leg.' The realization was instant.
My brain kicked into overdrive, racing for a way out of the situation.
'It doesn't know exactly where I am yet. It just smells the blood.'
Slowly, like a scarecrow moved by the wind, it turned in my direction. Instead of eyes, two pools of blackness stared at me. Its leathery skin flapped in the wind; the muscles that should hold it together were long gone. It took a step. It was so silent that if I hadn't been watching, I wouldn't have known it was there at all.
Then my heart rate doubled. If I couldn't hear that one, what guaranteed it was the only one? I got up, making as little noise as possible. The decrepit bench let out a whine of complaint. My eyes snapped to the bench, then back to the creature. It had stopped moving.
'Please don't start running... please...' I repeated in my head, my eyes scanning the other alleyways for any movement.
It stayed still.
'It's waiting to hear something else.'
I might have been stupid enough to come outside, but I hadn't left my things behind. Carefully, I undid the zipper of my bag, one slow step at a time. If I rushed even a little, the creature would hear, so I didn't. I took my time.
I took one of my notebooks and tossed it onto another bench. Its old, rusted metal, whined even louder than mine had.
What happened next was a flurry of movement no one would expect from a sack of bones. It sprinted faster than I'd ever managed, even with an uninjured leg, and in less than a second threw itself head-first at the bench, crashing into it. At the same time, another husk sprang from an alleyway, leapt onto the first, and bit into the back of its neck.
[Crunch]
The sound of bones snapping made me cringe, but I knew I had to move. With the strength I had left I bit my lip to endure the pain and darted toward the fallen creatures; my leg blazed with pain, no doubt bleeding again.
The knife had never left my hand. Holding it like an ice pick and bracing with my other hand, I drove it straight into the husk's head just as it looked up. The knife sank easily; their bones, old and brittle, couldn't withstand the tempered steel even when rusted. The creature's arms, already reaching for me, dropped like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
As soon as it started, the flurry of movement ended, the only sound remaining was the snapping open and closed of the jaw of the first husk, still on the ground, having lost the movement of its limbs. Not sparing myself the time to ponder my actions, I pulled the knife out and drove it into the other husk's head, it went in, ending it.
I breathed laboriously; my leg burned with renewed vigor and I knew I'd messed up. But... why did I want to laugh? Why did this feel... 'Good.'
It felt exhilarating — the same rush as when I set a new best time. It felt addictive. It felt heroic.
'I just killed two monsters.' I looked at my own hands. 'This could have gone much worse, I could be dead now...' The sane part of my brain warned me, this had been a dangerous move, I shouldn't do repeat it... 'But I'm not. I'm here and they are dead. Free from whatever madness plagued them before.'
Letting the rush die down, I started to think clearly again.
'I need to go back inside.' I turned and saw Owl, arms crossed and leaning in the doorway of his house. He had that mysterious smile parents wear when they catch their children doing something they shouldn't, and yet can't help but feel proud.
He gestured with a thumb to the inside and walked in.