Runes

Runestones spilled onto the concrete. Some within the chalk circle, more without. The seer smiled a half-toothed grin.

“You flee a great evil, no?” His breath tasted of sour meat and Gatorade.

“Something like that.” I tried to see which runes had tipped him off, but they just looked like rocks to me.

“You shall find the weapon you seek beneath a rubbish receptacle where the Way meets the Seven.”

I sighed. These Immortals never drop the bullshit, do they? I handed him a $5 and thanked him for the reading.

“Great evil never stays behind for long,” the old man giggled at my back.

The city was cold. The wind was cold, the benches were cold. A pigeon shat on my head, and even that was cold.

Eventually, I found it: Broadway and 7th. An unassuming dumpster sat on the far corner. Beckoning me. The green man blinked on. I set one foot into the intersection and felt goosebumps flare along my spine. Great, I thought. Evil.

A man in full plate armor walked down Broadway at a leisurely pace, seemingly unaware of the blaring traffic around him. The plate was black as night, his sword shined like blood, and his helm twisted up into twin horns. Basically, Medieval Batman was coming to kill me.

I didn’t bother running. He didn’t rush, why should I? So I made my way across the street, tried not to look like a tourist, and dove head-first into that dumpster.

Only, I couldn’t find anything. Anything of value, of course. There was lots of garbage. But I don’t think Sir Broods-A-Lot would run screaming from a slimy banana peel. But a girl can dream.

The dumpster started floating. Or at least that’s what it felt like. I peeked out the top and there he was, the knight of my mares. Or – you know what I mean.

I tumbled into the street. The knight tossed the dumpster aside like an old shoebox and raised his sword. I rolled out of the way just before the blade cracked concrete – right into a puddle where the dumpster used to be.

I groped in the muck. A few rocks scraped under my palm. The sword raised again. I threw the rocks at him. I didn’t expect much, maybe a moment of confusion. But the armor started to smolder where the rocks touched it. The knight stepped back. I took a closer look at those rocks – each one was carved with a different sygil.

Runestones.

I grabbed as many as I could and scrambled to my feet. The armor was pocked now. Smoke rose in ringlets. He swiped at me. I tossed another stone and one of them pinged against the sword. The blade shattered. He looked at the broken hilt, then at me.

He grasped my throat before I could react. I kicked and punched at his wrist but the armor was, you guessed it, hard as hell. So I tried a new tactic. I took his batman ears and ripped off the helmet.

He wasn’t bad looking. Strong jaw, long eyelashes, face slightly flushed from the effort of walking in full plate. I didn’t want to give myself time to study that face any further, so I threw a few more stones at it. It must have done the trick, because the next thing I knew I was on the ground and he was screaming. I think I heard a sizzle.

I didn’t look back and I only stopped running when I hit Penn Station. The Great Evil was still after me, sure. But he was missing a sword and I still had a few runes left. The odds weren’t exceptional, but they were better. That’s about all I can ask for these days.