The River King 9

The River King 9

Taylor Hebert

I was spat out by the River into a dark basement. I would have loved to portal to my own hideout, but my bug sense extended only so far. It was all I could do to find an empty house nearby. Whoever owned this house would be scraping  blood off their concrete floor but for now, they weren’t home. 

I coughed up a mix of water and blood, only to immediately choke on it when it went back down the wrong pipe. The River was awful like that; I couldn’t see. My bug sense got cut off. I was literally underwater, and unlike my friend, I wasn’t a catfish hybrid.

Slowly, I twitched until I could roll onto my side. At least that way, I could spit up blood in peace.

I groaned in pain. Entire waves of insects stirred in an erratic frenzy as I transferred my panic to them. Not the pain, that was a biological signal and so all me, but I could mostly think like a normal human being.

There was a cold, burning sensation in my stomach where Hookwolf’s claw had skewered me. I was no Panacea, but I thought it might be a bit of my stomach acid leaking through.

I’d… I’d heal… probably. The fact that I could have coherent thoughts probably meant I hadn’t lost too much blood, which meant that I was still regenerating somehow. Whatever brute power Tahm gave me, it had a hell of a high tolerance.

I reached down to my stomach. There was a hole there, as thick as my wrist. I felt something slick and rubbery. It took a moment for me to realize that this was a section of my intestines. With a wince of disgust, I shoved it back inside me. That probably helped, right? Having all my pieces in place was probably good for the healing factor.

The motion also reminded me that I was now missing an arm. A whole arm. The bloody stump had scabbed over rapidly, but I… I didn’t know if I could regenerate that. There was a good chance that I couldn’t. In which case…

I felt numb, as though I’d been dunked back into the icy River. If I couldn’t get my arm back, my life was over. I could explain away a scar, or a bruise that healed slowly enough to be noticeable. I could say I fell, or that the bullies were back. Worst case scenario, I could fake a mugging.

An arm, though…

I eyed the ragged stump with mounting dread. There was no way to explain this away. Dad was going to flip his shit when he found out. Worse, he’d learn that I was a cape, that I was Monarch.

I let out a bitter laugh. This was it; I’d never been more afraid. Here I was, waging a one woman war against the biggest gang in the city, and the idea of telling the truth filled me with more fear than anything those Nazis ever did. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

I didn’t know how long I stayed like that, curled up in a fetal position in some random person’s basement. This place was dusty and hadn’t been cleaned in a while, which probably meant I had plenty of time. It was also damp, but that was probably more the River’s doing than anything. Even if they came home, odds were good that they wouldn’t bother checking here.

I forced myself to relax, as much as the searing agony in my gut allowed. There was no point in panicking. I just… I just had to heal enough to get to my base. I had supplies there. Extra clothes, food, and a first aid kid I’d never needed until now.

And then, I could wait forTahm. He was out of town, but he usually checked in once every few days anyway. He’d know what to do. He was my friend, and he always had wise things to say.

I wished I had his number, but he didn’t have a phone. If it took days, then so be it. Girls went missing all the time anyway. It’d scare dad shitless, but so long as I could make it back with a better story than “I fell into a blender,” I’d take it.

X

Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long. Tahm returned the next evening wearing an eggshell-white suit and a felt derby hat. He looked like he’d gone to a horse race. He took one look at me and frowned.

“Oh, Taylor, I see you’ve had a rough time of it,” he rumbled in that classic, Southern accent that seemed so timeless. His whiskers twitched in agitated spirals as he looked me over.

I did my best to smile. The hole in my gut had largely closed and I could move my torso without feeling my broken ribs scrape against each other. Progress. “Yeah, I ran into Hookwolf. Your power saved my life.”

“You’re very welcome, my friend. What happened?”

“You know that dogfighting ring I’ve been investigating?”

“I do. It looks like you found it.”

“I did. I… I lost. Hookwolf really messed me up. I… I had to run. Most everything healed up, but…”

“But your arm…”

I knew from the tone of his voice. A sinking weight formed in my stomach. “It can’t be healed. It won’t grow back, will it?”

“No, it will not, Taylor.”

I leaned back into the couch, an old, dusty thing I’d picked up from the dump in an attempt to make this place a bit more homey for Tahm. His confirmation was the final straw. I let out a broken sob. “I’m so fucked. My life is over, Tahm.”

He sat down next to me. His weight made the old springs creak in protest. “Now, that is not true. You know I have never lied to you. The loss of an arm is crippling, but people live with worse. Humans overcome, that’s what makes them so very interesting.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, Tahm. What will I tell dad? The school? The hospital?”

“The truth is one option. You are a hero. You fought the worst scum to be found in this city. Why, I think some would consider that arm a worthy battle scar.”

“That’s who Monarch is. That’s not who Taylor is,” I whispered as I blinked away tears. I thought I got it out of my system yesterday, but talking to Tahm had a way of making me feel things. “At school, I’m just the loser who gets bullied by everyone. And now, I’ll just be a crippled loser.”

He frowned. His hands balled into fists as they anxiously gripped at nothing. “I’m sorry, Taylor. If I hadn’t shared my power with you, then you wouldn’t have taken the risk.”

“No! Your power’s the best thing that ever happened to me. I… I never would have become Monarch without you.”

“You never would have gotten hurt without me.”

“I would. I’d probably be dead already. I planned on being a hero with just my bug powers. It… It would have gotten me killed,” I admitted. Now that I’d been out there, I realized just how fucking naive I’d been. “I might have been able to stay hidden for weeks, maybe even months, but someone would have found me eventually.”

We fell into an uneasy silence. I didn’t need to explain what would happen to a non-brute master who got found by the Empire. It was only the River that had kept me safe thus far.

Maybe I wouldn’t have been as willing to take risks without Tahm’s power, but I wouldn’t have made nearly as much of a difference, either. The Empire was running scared because of me! That Hookwolf, their best killer, had to come find me was proof enough

 Monarch mattered. She mattered more than Taylor Hebert ever could.

“Why did you stay?” my best friend asked. His voice held none of the usual, jovial charm. “I wasn’t there, but it sounds to me like you had the chance to walk away. The River is always open to you, Taylor.”

“I had to,” I said, voice steady. It surprised me. Even now, I didn’t regret the act of staying to distract Hookwolf. “It wasn’t just about the dogs. I called the cops. The animal control. Vets or whatever they are. Hookwolf would have found them before they could get away, or chased them down, or… Someone had to meet Hookwolf halfway.”

“So you stood when others could not. Not because you had to, but because you were the only one who could. You’re a real hero, Taylor.”

“Thanks. I don’t really feel like one right now.”

“This truly means a great deal to you, doesn’t it?” he asked, gesturing to the mask on the table.

I hadn’t had the chance to wash it so the silk was stained with blood, spit, sweat, and vomit. It was absolutely filthy, but there was something compelling about it. 

Monarch was more than a hero to me. I could admit it to myself in the quiet of my own mind. Monarch was someone else, someone who wasn’t a pathetic loser, someone who wasn’t constantly bullied. Monarch was strong, capable, seemingly all-knowing and everywhere at once. Monarch scared villains and gangbangers into following the buddy system.

She was everything I was not, everything I wished I could be.

“It does,” I said finally, voice cracking with emotion. I could have shunted this to the swarm as well, but wouldn’t have felt right. The mask represented something I couldn’t just toss aside. “Monarch… Monarch is everything to me…”

Tahm Kench took a deep breath. He let it out in a long, drawn out sigh. He almost seemed to deflate at that. “What if there is a way to get your arm back?”

“How? If you’re talking about Panacea, I’d need to be able to talk to her in private. And she definitely doesn’t take requests. She’d insist that I join the PRT. Even if she didn’t, whatever hospital I found her at would unmask me.”

“You could try that, but I was talking about me, Taylor. My power… It’s all about the bargain.”

“More… You’re saying you can give me even more power.”

“Not for free,” he shook his great head sadly. “Nothing is for free, my dear. Not even for my dearest friend.”

“A few stray cats probably won’t fix this,” I laughed humorlessly, my empty stump waving.

“No… But perhaps, Hookwolf will. As you said, if your life is over, what is a life for a life?”

That struck me dumb. Murder. Tahm was talking about premeditated murder. But then again, was it really so wrong?

Hookwolf was a killer and a Nazi. He’d been sentenced to the Birdcage multiple times, only to be broken free mid-transit. They said that the only reason he didn’t have a kill order was that the PRT was afraid of what he’d do when he had nothing left to lose. 

Nazi. Serial killer. He was the definition of an acceptable target, but…

“I don’t know…” I hesitated, and a part of me hated myself for it. Even so, another, quieter part of me said that this was crossing a line. Whether Hookwolf deserved it or not wasn’t the point. If I took a human life now, wouldn’t it make killing easier? “I can get you more animals, enough to fill a truck.”

“That won’t work, Taylor,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “My power is the bargain. It isn’t about biomass, but meaning. There is no power without sacrifice.”

“I… You’re saying that I had to give you small animals because it made me uncomfortable.”

“In a way, yes. There must be an equivalent trade as you see it. No amount of dead cats would ever equal a human life in your eyes.”

That… That sounded off. “But how could I have gotten power with just bugs then?”

“Why, ol’ Tahm paid for you,” he said, slapping his belly. “I saw that you needed purpose, so I made a promise to myself: So long as you chase your dream of being a hero, I’ll never have another contractor.”

“I… Tahm…” I didn’t know what to say. I’d always wondered. If he could make bargains, then why just me? I wondered if he’d been making new heroes in other cities, too.

Now I knew the truth. I was the only one. My “bargain” had been subsidized by Tahm. He’d crippled his own power to give me this chance. RIght now, I felt like I’d squandered it.

“Now, I am not a violent soul, but I can admit to feeling a little… agitated… at seeing my friend harmed. Between you and a stranger, I know what I would choose.”

“It’s not… I mean… If I kill him, then it’d be murder. It’s one thing if someone dies accidentally in a fight, but… but this? I’d be killing someone purely for selfish reasons, Tahm.”

“You’re a pure soul, Taylor. You’re afraid of becoming someone else.”

“Yeah. I don’t think that’s who I want Monarch to be. I don’t want you to be that kind of person, either.”

“Oh, you’re kind to ol’ Tahm, but don’t worry about me. Think about your father, Taylor. The way I see it, you have two choices: You can tell him the truth, or…”

“Or I can kill Hookwolf,” I let out a hollow laugh. “Like that’s going to happen. I couldn’t beat him when I had every advantage.”

“It doesn’t have to be Hookwolf. A life for a life, or near enough. That is what I need to share with you more of my power.”

“Then that’s a no,” I replied firmly. Even if this was the end of Taylor as a civilian, even if I never reached my full potential as a hero, that was okay, right? Mom used to say that character couldn’t be bought. “Even if it makes my life easier, I can’t just kill some random person.”

“What about your father? What will you tell him?”

“I… I’ll figure something out.”

“If you say so, Taylor. But… But I worry for you.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll be fine,” I replied with a confidence I didn’t feel. “Like you said, humans adapt. I’ll learn to fight with one arm.”

“You might, but that was not what I meant. If you go back, they will know that you are a cape. A young girl missing an arm is as big a clue as my own appearance. Then, won’t your father also be at risk? Knowledge can be a dangerous thing, my friend.”

I froze. He… He was right. I felt like shit. Here I was, worrying about my wrecked civilian life when the consequences for this could be so much worse. Would the Empire ever hesitate to target my father?

What a stupid question. Of course they would. I’d done so much to them that even if Kaiser didn’t explicitly order it, dozens of gangbangers would be happy to get back at me in any way they could. Secrecy had been my shield for so long. The thought of losing that buffer made me nauseous.

If I wanted dad to be safe, then… then I couldn’t go back. It was a chilling realization, but that further cemented my choice in my mind.

“My bargain brings more than healing. More water. More strength. More of the things that can make Monarch strong,” Tahm whispered. “Hookwolf won’t go away. Other powerful villains exist. You’ll run into them eventually.”

“That… That’s true. But I can’t just kill some random person. That would make me just like them, Tahm. I can’t let that happen.”

“What if it’s not just anyone? Taylor, you told me that a hero is someone who saves lives. What if removing certain people will keep the rest of this city safe?”

“Life isn’t a numbers game. I’m not the one who should decide who deserves to die.”

“I know that this bothers you, Taylor. I can see that the idea of taking a life hurts you just as much as your injuries. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I have no other options for you, but what I offer is the best I can give.”

“No, don’t apologize. I… I get it. Everything you did for me, it’s more than anyone’s ever done, even my own dad.”

“Then you must become Monarch with one arm and abandon the identity of Taylor Hebert, or…”

“Or I need to make a sacrifice,” I finished for him. “If I ever want to go back to dad, if I want my life back, I need to take someone else’s.”

“It is a weighty choice, my friend.”

“I know. I… Let me think about it.”

“Take all the time you need. Summon the River and call my name. I will hear you no matter where you are.”

X

I stayed in the base for another two days. I had enough canned food here to be alright. As for the bathroom, there was a nearby gym I snuck into at night. Though I was officially homeless, my powers made the basic necessities a moot point.

While I waited for my injuries to heal, I repaired my costume and thought about my situation more. The more I considered it, the surer I became: Tahm was right. I couldn’t go back or I’d put dad at risk. This, above all else, was what cinched it for me. It was best for Taylor Hebert to be just another missing person, for now.

On the third day, I put on my mask and got ready to be Monarch again. It felt different this time. This time, I felt that I truly had nothing to lose.

This time, I wasn’t going out to be a hero; I was going out to kill someone. I made sure to distinguish the two. Right now, Monarch wasn’t out to beat up gangbangers; Monarch was out to commit murder.

I took a deep breath. The empty sleeve of my right arm flapped uselessly in the wind. It was a constant reminder of what I was about to do.

Finding an acceptable sacrifice didn’t take long. The Empire had been ecstatic. Across their territory, I spotted at least three different house parties. Many of them said Hookwolf showed me my place. They said that I was a cripple now, that I’d be too afraid to touch them again.

I called the River and let its cool waters wash over me. With it, I formed a construct of water that formed on my stump. It filled out the empty sleeve with brackish water until I had a set of five tentacles that imitated a hand. I probably looked like a freak, an expressionless river monster with tentacles for an arm, but that didn’t matter. They were wrong, and I’d prove it.

Eventually, I decided on someone no one would miss. He was a bombastic man, bulky, with a shaved head and tattoos along his neck and scalp. That alone told me how deep he was in with the Empire. People with facial tattoos like that probably couldn’t go back to a productive life even if they wanted to, kind of like me right now.

More than that, I remembered him. He was a low-level boss, the captain of his own little crew. He had a sling over his right shoulder where I’d snapped his collar bone like a twig. It was an opportunistic hit on my part, but the swastika tattooed into his scalp made him somewhat memorable.

He was in a small house in the suburbs, talking tough and showing off his broken bone like a badge of honor. Maybe for these scum, it was. Around him were his cronies, six men and women who did whatever he said. They lounged around with a carelessness that told me none of them owned this house.

Worst of all, he and his cronies weren’t alone. There was a black man tied up in the middle of the living room. He’d been beaten badly and was barely conscious. Behind him, the youngest Nazi there, evidenced by his pimply face, held a bat.

A lynching. They were celebrating my absence by lynching someone.

I saw red. I’d stopped a few lynchings before. They tended to be hosted by the worst of the lot, and usually to induct new members, as if clubbing a helpless man was something to be proud of.

I appeared in the kitchen, just out of sight of the living room. My left hand held an aluminum bat of my own. Just because I was pissed didn’t mean I’d forgotten the lessons I’d learned. My insects had long since disabled their guns and I’d already prioritized the more dangerous mooks.

One of them, a woman who’d been boredly tapping away at her phone in the corner, had line of sight to the kitchen. She noticed me first but before she could shout, I was already upon them. My bat smashed into the youngest’s elbow, shattering it with a dull snap that I’d unfortunately gotten used to.

Before the rest could move, the tentacles that made up my right arm shot out. Each grabbed whatever they could, arms, legs, or throats, and held them at bay. These fuckers were about to learn that “not as strong as Hookwolf” didn’t mean normal people could do anything to me.

The last left was the woman who noticed me. She began to run, but I flung their leader at her with a whipcord crack. He landed atop her and the sudden mass sent her stumbling head-first into a wall.

More whiplike cracks followed. I found out that if I did it like this, the centrifugal force would amplify my swings. Whatever I held on to broke or dislocated with dull pops.

Screams filled the house but I ignored them in favor of the leader. I was loath to kill so many. I just needed one so he’d do well enough for tonight.

He reached into his waistband for his pistol but I reached out and twisted his arm, behind his back, dislocating it. It also forced him to his knees, head driven into the ground by the leverage. There were more curses that I dutifully ignored.

Though for once, they were right. I was being a bitch. I was a monster. I was about to murder someone, not in self-defense, but for more power. I refused to allow myself any delusions about what I was about to do.

I called the River forth and freed the man they were about to lynch. Whatever he did to the rest was his business.

X

Soon, we were in my warehouse again. The skinhead sputtered and coughed out water.

Before he could gather his bearings, I called to the River. “Tahm. Tahm Kench, can you hear me?”

The murky water cleared just enough to reveal my friend’s wide, yellow eyes. Looking up from the River, he really did remind me of a predator. “Oh? Taylor?”

“Monarch, here,” I corrected. I wasn’t too upset. The only one who heard wouldn’t live long anyway.

“My apologies. Have you come to a decision?”

“I have. I have someone for you.”

“So be it. It is good to have direction, yes?”

“Yes, it is.”

He emerged from the River. The skinhead’s eyes went wide. The skinhead thrashed and began to shout, but I clogged his mouth with my tentacles again.

Tahm was a sweetheart, but I could understand. Had I not known him, he would have scared the shit out of me, too.

He stared down at the man. For once, I was disconcerted by the hungry gleam in his eyes. “Oh, a bit of pond scum that no one would miss.”

“That’s the idea. How does this work?”

“Now, now you choose, my friend.”

“I already made my choice, Tahm. Eat him.”

“That is not what I meant. I can give you two boons. I can give you greater regeneration, enough to regrow your arm.”

“That was what we were going for, right?”

“Right. Or…” he drawled out the word. His mouth seemed to grow wider. “Or, I can make you stronger. I said I could do that, didn’t I? I could make your connection to the River that much closer. It will give you the strength to oppose this Hookwolf character.”

“What does that mean exactly?”

“It means that your mastery of the water will improve. As your connection to the River deepens, so will the amount of water you can control, and the force you can bring to bear.”

That was intriguing. I’d wanted to go back to dad, keep him from worrying too much, but none of this would have happened had I been strong enough. “Enough to beat Hookwolf?”

“Perhaps. Enough to hold him.”

“I’d have to stay a missing person for longer then.”

“That’s right. Your father will worry, but…”

“But Hookwolf isn’t going away. He’s going to hunt me down once the others report to him. We’ll meet again, one way or another.”

“That does seem likely. I know you want to go home, Taylor, but that might just be pushing things down the road.”

“I… You’re right.”

“Healing, or the River. Choose, my friend.”

“Do it. You’ve never steered me wrong before. I choose the River, Tahm,” I said finally, sealing the skinhead’s fate.

“Very well. The bargain is struck.”

Tahm’s jaw opened up. It almost felt as if reality bent to accommodate such a massive size. Then, those teeth closed around the man, and there was nothing left.

I felt the surge immediately. The River had always been a distant thing, a portal that came only when I called. Now, I felt its chill and took comfort in it. I could feel it in my bones. This was power, power enough to crush the Empire beneath my feet. 

Hookwolf? We’d meet again. And when we did, he would drown. Besides, there was something poetic about using Hookwolf to get my arm back. His life, to get back my own.

Author’s Note

Ended up getting much longer than intended, but I really wanted to conclude Taylor’s third deal with Tahm.

A part of me thinks it’s morbidly funny that Taylor’s biggest worry as she’s literally shoving her intestines into her body is “Dad’s going to freak.” It’s such a teenage response that I kept it in.

And so, Tahm makes her another deal. Taylor officially becomes a killer. Not entirely satisfied with this, but I think it mostly makes sense.

Animal Fact: Bees can make pesto.

Well, kinda. Red-tailed mason bees have strange nesting habits. They will find an empty snail shell and spend hours positioning it into the right orientation. Next, they will fill it with pollen and nectar before laying an egg inside.

They will then cover the entrance with chewed up mud and leaves, which is called “pesto.” Lastly, they will cover the snail shell with grass, sticks, and leaves until they form a pyramid-like mound over it to act as camouflage.

Funny enough, they’re quite picky about which shells to use. Biologists have observed them rejecting newer, darker shells, presumably because there is a higher likelihood of infection or parasites due to the snail’s recently decomposed body. They’ve also been seen rejecting the oldest, lightest shells for being too brittle. Similarly, they don’t accept shells that are too big or small.