Fungus of the Heart by Jeremy C. Shipp Page A

to relieve you of stress. And listening to someone yelling isn’t exactly relaxing.”
    “I like knowing someone’s in the house with me. It’s…comforting.”
    “OK. But the offer’s still open, if you change your mind.”
    “I won’t.” Milena lies back in her bed, and usually she turns away from me at once. But this time, she watches me as I stand vigil at her beside. “I’ve never seen a Sentinel in action. Would you show me some moves?”
    “OK.”
    So I perform for her, invoking the spirits of stone and wood, fighting invisible enemies throughout the room.
    Afterward, Milena claps. “It’s almost like dancing.”
    “Almost,” I say.
    Then she rolls away.
    Hours later, a nude man in a necktie crawls into the cottage. A smirk on his face and a briefcase balanced on his back.
    I still haven’t tested Milena tonight, so I remain hidden behind the door.
    The nude man lies on his stomach beside the bed. Grabs the suitcase. Stands.
    And as he raises the suitcase above his head, Milena’s eyes open.
    Of course, that’s my cue to tackle him.
    “Why did you let him get so close?” she says.
    I begin hogtying the man. “I didn’t want to immobilize him until I knew his intent.”
    “You could’ve stopped him first and asked questions later.”
    “People lie. Actions don’t.”
    “Everything lies,” the man says.
    “This suitcase is filled with rocks,” Milena says, lifting the weapon. “He could’ve killed me.”
    “Life is death,” the man says.
    I touch Milena’s arm. “You weren’t in any danger. I’d never let anyone hurt you.”
    She kneels beside the man. “I know what you’ve heard about Protectors, but I’m willing to give your band food in exchange for an armistice. If I let you go, will you relay my offer?”
    The man giggles.
    “What’s so funny?” Milena says.
    “You offer us food,” he says. “But my people never go hungry with so many sinners around.”
    “He’s not a raider,” I say. “He’s of the Void.”
    “I’m not familiar with that clan,” Milena says.
    “If there’s more of them around, they’ll torture and kill your villagers without hesitation.”
    “And we’ll gobble them all up,” the man says. “Though sometimes we have to throw up some people so we can keep eating the rest. But I think that still counts, right?”
    Milena sprints all the way to the village core, and I barely keep up.
    “These Void,” Milena says. “How many are there?”
    “I don’t know,” I say. “It’s more of a movement than an actual group. They often travel alone, but sometimes—”
    And the horde of Void skipping out of the forest finishes my sentence for me. They’re all nude. Neckties. Briefcases.
    The nearby villagers stand and stare. Some of them laugh.
    I enter a battle stance, but I don’t attack.
    Because Milena’s already projecting her power.
    Thousands of teal threads of energy erupt from her body and squirm in the air. After Milena screams, the strands burst into flame. Then the glowing strings whip forward and point at the horde.
    But the Void keep coming.
    “Why aren’t they scared?” Milena says.
    “I’m sure they are,” I say. “They just don’t care.”
    “What do I do?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I don’t want to touch them.”
    “OK. I’ll handle them.”
    “You can’t fight all of them. Can you?”
    “I don’t know.”
    But I try. I inhale the spirits in the air, and let them guide me. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see you fighting alongside me. Protecting me. But no, you’re in the Fortress, because when you really needed me, I couldn’t protect you.
    And I can’t protect this village either.
    There’s too many Void, and I can’t incapacitate them fast enough.
    “No!” Milena says.
    I turn my head in time to see one of her threads brush a nude man’s face. He shrieks. Falls. Trembles with her energy, though of course he’s already dead.
    Milena collapses, and her power recedes into her body.
    The boy