Monster - A. Lee Martinez [36]
Monster tossed the napkin dispenser at it. It bounced off the az-i-wu-gum-ki-mukh-ti’s black scales without leaving a mark. A blue flash engulfed the creature, and by the time Monster’s vision cleared, the walrus dog was encased in a block of ice.
Judy entered, and Monster smiled smugly at her. “See? Frozen. No problems.”
“I take it, then, that it’s supposed to be doing that?” asked Judy.
The walrus dog shimmered. Its scales lightened as it slowly absorbed the ice around it.
“It’s nothing to worry about.” Monster flipped through his dictionary. “I’m on top of it.”
The glow increased as the ice thinned enough for the creature to twitch its tail.
“Yeah, I can see you’ve got it all under control. Good luck with that.”
She went to the front door. The handle snapped off.
Her left palm itched. The misfortune hex had struck. She pushed on the door, but it was designed to open inward and didn’t budge. She tried getting her fingers between the door-jamb, but the seal was too tight.
The light coming from the kitchen and the raspy breaths of the walrus dog did not inspire Judy with confidence. Monster appeared through the swinging doors.
“We should get out of here.” He stopped at the front door.
Judy held up the handle.
Monster went to the door on the other side of the restaurant. That handle broke off too.
She scratched her palm. It was itching like mad. “Sorry.”
He shoved his shoulder against the glass door. “I already tried that,” she said.
The walrus dog howled.
Monster picked up a napkin holder, cocked back his arm, and hurled it into the door. It bounced improbably off the glass and smacked Judy in the head, knocking off her hat. She stumbled back and fell over a chair.
“Son of a bitch!” she grumbled. Despite the sudden throb in her skull, she was painfully aware of the itch in her palm.
The walrus dog pushed its way through the swinging kitchen door. The rune spell had transformed it into a living ice sculpture. Little pieces of ice cracked off its body with its every movement, but the shards were replaced with a steady refreezing. The az-i-wu-gum-ki-mukh-ti got stuck halfway through the kitchen door. It dug its frozen claws into the tile and struggled to pull itself the rest of the way through.
“This isn’t fair,” said Monster. “It’s your bad-luck hex. Not mine.”
Judy righted a chair and sat. She was having trouble concentrating, and her knees were weak. But she was getting used to functioning with head wounds, so she was aware enough to keep her wits about her but dulled enough not to be frightened by the prospect of being eaten by an ice sculpture.
“What about a lightning bolt?” she asked. “Does that do anything to ice?” said Monster. “I don’t know. But it’s not normal ice, is it?”
Only the walrus dog’s hind legs remained stuck, and it was wiggling those free. Judy wasn’t that worried. The thing was too big and clumsy to be much of a threat, and the transformation to ice hadn’t helped it any. They could probably outmaneuver it fairly easily, but her aching skull reminded her that nothing was easy right now.
Monster leveled his hands at the walrus dog, closed his eyes, and unleashed a blast from all ten fingers.
“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow.”
The creature absorbed the lightning, drawing it into its body. The ball of electricity crackled in its heart. The beast bayed, and voltage leaped off it. The diner’s lights exploded in a shower of sparks. Monster sought cover behind a booth, and Judy, having regained some semblance of balance, joined him.
“Great idea,” said Monster. “Don’t get mad at me. This is your job, not mine. And if you’d listened to me in the first place and not tried freezing the thing, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“If I’d ignored you in the first place, I’d still be finishing my eggs.”
They chanced a peek. The walrus dog had freed itself and was advancing in their direction. It was getting slower if not weaker. It batted aside the tables in its way.
“We could