King of the Woods, or Trivial Pursuit

Part 59 - Blood

Ray turtled on his knees and elbows, with one hand protecting his neck and one protecting the bottle. On any other day, the beating would have made him point at the sobbing face at the end of the smiley face pain scale, but after getting bodied by a professional killer, he rated Frazer's shots between a 'meh' face and a grimace. The difference between pain and incapacitation was another lesson the deer could only learn from the hound. He considered sending Huntsman a thank you card or a gift certificate from a glass eye store.

The next blow landed on his shoulder blade. He sprang to his feet and ran across the ring of stones, ducking beneath one of the white fringetree's branches. Frazer followed, pushing the branch aside; a handful of leaves shriveled and blackened, but he took no notice.

"Don't touch her!" Ray put his back against a stone and raised his fists.

Frazer threw a wild overhand right. It connected with a loud crack, but not with Ray, who had slipped aside.

"Goddamnit!" Frazer stumbled back, squeezing his injured hand. He kept his eyes on Ray, wary of a counterattack.

"Look, it isn't poison." Ray gulped down half the bottle. Firelight filled his vision and his throat burned. He retched, but the Golden Bough already had him. The conflagration spread over his skin. He screamed.

"Idiot." Frazer shook his hand out and advanced.

Ray fled. Why did the Golden Bough hurt so much this time, even with a lower dose? He wiped hot tears that threatened to boil in his eye sockets. His vision cleared, and he saw what he could not see before.

A mantle of rollicking flames covered Frazer's shoulders, and a crown of cinders circled his brow. Each step he took inflicted blazing footprints on the earth.

"It's you," Ray said. "You're burning everything you touch."

"You've completely lost it." Frazer's voice crackled. A cloud of black smoke billowed from his mouth at every word.

Ray held the bottle before him. "You have to see, or you'll die."

"You first." Frazer snapped a left hook into Ray's temple, knocking him to his hands and knees, and wrenched the bottle away.

"Don't!" Ray said.

Frazer hurled the bottle end-over-end. It scattered droplets in a moonlit arc, falling empty on the grass. He stood in front of Ray and looped the belt under his throat. Ray threw an uppercut towards his groin, but he turned sideways, deflecting the blow with his hip. He tightened the makeshift noose. "This isn't personal. Just doing what I have to do."

"Me too." Ray grabbed Frazer's heel and threw himself forward, slamming his shoulder into Frazer's knee. The joint collapsed with a grotesque pop. Frazer fell onto his side. Howling in pain, he released the leather belt to grab his injured leg. Ray leapt on top of him.

--

"He's actually doing it," Trivia said.

"We can't bear to watch!" Wilson had put his mittens over where his eyes would have been, if he were human-bodied.

"No, Ray is winning!" Trivia said.

"Careful," Audubon said. "Your bias is showing."

"Trivia merely announces the will of the Green." Wilson uncovered his face and turned to the glamour displaying the fight. "In this case, the Green wills that Ray punch the King's face into mashed potatoes."