by Elle Cross
Fear knelt down. "Can you walk?"
She tested her knee. "I can hobble?"
His lips were a grim line. "Stay over there, and out of the way."
She wanted to say something but he grabbed a sword from somewhere unseen from his body.
It glowed a red light.
There were only a few swords of power that she could remember that were like that. They were usually so renowned that they even seeped into mortal legend. Like Excalibur and Calibrun to name a couple.
They often retained some of the power of their wielders. If Fear ever lost his sword to history, she wondered what that would end up being called? And what powers it would bestow to its wielder.
She shook her head. She must be more winded than she thought. She sneaked over toward War's fallen form. He should have gotten up. He was more resilient than just being thrown into a wall.
She saw that he was grazed a little bit, the claw marks shredding the fabric of his clothing and then a little bit of his skin underneath. The scrapes weren't deep. She squeezed the wound and green oozed from it.
Poison. Enough to bring him down.
The fire of her anger radiated from her belly.
Fear and the monster rounded on each other. "Rancor? Is that you? You seem to have gained a little weight." He patted his belly, which was trim and strong, something she could tell under his suit. "Not a good look on you."
"Shut the fuck up, Fear! What the hell do you know?"
"I know that underneath this weird threesome you got going on, you are still one scared little schmuck holding a grudge."
"You will be the one to learn fear." And with that, Rancor, or whatever this beast was, charged Fear. He whipped something out from the back of his suit. A gun. And unloaded the clip at the charging beast.
Whatever it was got hurt, because it bellowed in pain, and changed direction. It swiped one of its massive paws across its face. Blood or whatever amounted to blood came off of his paw. One set of eyes was out of commission.
Damn, that would have hurt, all right.
Fear tossed the empty gun aside. "There was only one chance of surprising this guy. That was it."
It hadn't been enough of an opening for Immortelle and War to go through. War at least was getting onto his feet, but he was still woozy. "Damn, what the fuck did it do to me?"
"Poison, I suspect."
"Deadly, too. Most would have died by now."
"You cannot think to stand between me and my quarry for long, Fear." Every time he said that, he drew out the F, as if he wanted to call him by some other name entirely.
"Hm, but I think I can." A glint of fang made him utterly bloodthirsty. Without warning he shifted his weight and charged the monster, swiping and connecting with the length of his blade, even as it lumbered to the side, faster than the bulk would have suggested it could move. It followed it up with a swipe toward Fear, which he narrowly escaped. The monster shifted so that it had to look toward Fear on one side, and Immortelle and War on the other.
"The others will come soon, and we will enjoy picking you apart, marrow from flesh."
"Ew."
Mischief and Strife dropped down on top of the monster and sank their swords into each shoulder. It reared up onto its hind legs, a soul-searing roar rankling the air.
Fear would have gone into slice its neck, but there was only a bit of time to nick him before its powerful paws came back swatting all in its path. Mischief and Strife both went flying, though they stayed clear of its claws.
It rounded on Fear, who laid low, crouching.
"You think your paltry tricks could defeat me? Has it been that long since I took Uzziel the Mighty? We feasted on his power for at least a millennia!"
Fear hardened into stone. He was immovable even as the monster came within striking distance.
"Fear," Immortelle called out. "What are you doing?" Move!'
When the remaining sets of eyes glinted with humor and certain victory, when Fear's resolve hardened ever more, the monster reared its head back, jaws opened to strike.
A black whirl dropped from above, with a decisive thunk. It was the heavy blow of Death’s double-ended war hammer.
Immortelle's eyes fought to focus on the blurring speed of shadows, which was made even more difficult because Fear moved in himself.
They all did. Spearing the mighty hide of the beast.
Death hauled his war hammer up over his head and brought it down once more upon the thing named Rancor.
The head was crushed under the mighty weight. Fear brought his sword down upon its neck, separating the head from the rest of the body.
As soon as Fear’s sword fell, the rest of the beast’s body sagged, and then collapsed.
The mass of pelts and fur began to smoke, lifting into the air.
Death turned to Immortelle, lifting her easily with one arm, the other one still holding his hammer. His black gaze was level with hers. "Are you okay?"
Even now, after exacting some crazy level violence, he would ask in a quiet that swirled around him. It didn't escape her notice that he was in his full aspect: all cowl with his loose black garb. Damn.
"I think so. War—" She searched for him.
War’s unconscious body was being hauled up between Mischief and Strife, both of their expressions livid as they took in their brother-in-arms. War groaned as he was balanced between the two other men.
Strife slashed a look over toward Death. "I wish we could kill that fucking monster over and over again."
"No worries," Fear said, "You will have plenty of time to do so. Since there are likely more like him."
Mischief whipped his head at Fear. "Fuck you say?"
“He said there were more. I believe him. Besides, these things are hunters. Predators. There will be more.”
Death didn't contribute to the banter. He placed a gentle kiss on Immortelle’s cheek and nestled her in the crook of his arm around the mass of the animal. He kept the carcass on his left, his war hammer held out.
Immortelle clung to Death’s neck, seeing around him to see what had remained of the creature.
Black smoke wafted from its skin. The flesh began to degrade into a kind of goo, green, red, and gold globby lumps where flesh had been. It reminded her of a kind of infected pus oozing from a cut.
It drained down the sewers, adding to whatever cesspool the Goblin Market kept.
The thought made her cringe. “Shit,” she said under her breath.
"Don't look. Don't worry about it. It won't get you." Death’s words were quiet, like a silken touch brushed against her skin. The comfort was welcome, and helped to drive away that hollow feeling of being in that thing’s soulscape.
At the mouth of the alley, she asked Death to be let down. It was a battle of wills that she won, especially since it made more sense for him to have both arms free and be unencumbered by her weight. He made her test her weight on her leg, and though her knee pinched a little bit, it was fine.
Death pulled her against his body and captured her lips in a searing kiss. "I need you tonight," he murmured against her. He didn't ask and he didn't have to clarify what he meant.
The kiss left her breathless and clinging to his chest. She needed space to breathe, but he didn't allow her to move away. She nodded, and he loosened his hold.
Death pressed his warm lips against hers again, surprisingly soft this time, and let her leave the circle of his arms. The others had caught up, Mischief, Strife, and War leading ahead toward the glowing spot that was Ara Larusha.
She saw Fear kneel down and inspect something by the monster’s goo trail. Coins. Three of them.
He took out a cloth from his pocket, something that looked mercurial, almost liquid, and plucked the coins from the ground.
He stood, and met her gaze. Immortelle wanted to ask him, wanted to call out what he did. And there was something about his demeanor, the way he flicked his gaze toward the others, that made her swallow down her curiosity. That feeling tha
t whatever it was had every intention of keeping her inside of it made cold sweat trickle down her back.
She needed mental distance from that soulscape she left.
Fear had saved her life, and she would repay that kindness by giving him privacy.
With a smile, he whisked the coins in a pouch, being careful about them. He jogged to catch up to them.
Fear extended his hand, and Death took it in a handshake. "Well met. I didn't know how long he could have been held back."
"Grateful to your amazingly good timing."
Immortelle didn't miss the undercurrent there. Whatever it meant, she would tuck away for later. But she was grateful regardless. "Yes, thank you."
Fear looked her over. "Is your leg still troubling you? Here, I can carry you with ease."
Death didn't move so much as shift in place, his black robe billowing around him like a living thing. Bit by bit, he seemed to harden. His grip on his war hammer tightened. Jaw clenched. Vein throbbing at his temple as he stared down Fear.
The demon merely smiled, that same slow smile that cut across his face like a knife blade. The black wisps of smoke that lifted from his body rippled and coiled, the only thing that betrayed the simmering calm he wanted to portray.
Immortelle looked from one god to the other. The weight of their power grew heavy around them until it threatened to choke her. She coughed discreetly, which seemed to break the spell they were under.
"Come on. Let's catch up to the others. Ara Larusha seems distressed, not to mention that War is still out of it.”
She didn’t wait for Death and Fear to respond, instead walking quickly to catch up to the agitated pixie that just flew in circles around the three men who led the front.
Through the winding alleys of the Dawning district, it was clear that this section was like a skeleton of itself.
It wasn't like the place was empty per se, which it was. It just felt...hollow.
It reminded her of those fake sets that were used on television shows. It just didn't quite compute.
War had woken up too in the jostle, and insisted on moving on his own power. They were in formation around her, Mischief ahead with War, Strife behind with Fear. Death at her side, hand at her back.
She would have been annoyed, but her damned knee was pinching her. At least the cobblestone streets took her to a higher elevation. The steps curved upward, becoming a little surreal in how many there were.
When she was about to protest to yet another blind curve that didn't seem like it would lead to anywhere, Ara Larusha turned back into the girl. "Here."
Immortelle was glad the pixie turned toward the cobblestone wall, because she didn't see the frustrated look that flashed on Immortelle’s face before Ara Larusha was able to work some magick on the wall.
The bricks moved and there was suddenly an opening where it would have been impossible to have a tunnel.
These were the secrets of the Goblin Market, though, and Immortelle needed to remember them.
"Can I just say that the idea of walking into a black hole seems like a dumb idea?"
"Noted and echoed."
"Good."
They walked through, and the light from Ara Larusha was enough to see by. The tunnel looked like it used to be decorated; murals of what looked like revels or rituals festooned each side. It was both haunting and beautiful. It reminded her that something could have had a purpose but could also go away so soon.
When they exited the tunnel, it looked like they were in a grove of trees in a perfect circle. Something told her they weren't in the Goblin Market any longer.
"You would be right, Ms. Lucy. This isn't the Goblin Market. This is the outskirts of Underhill."
Whatever pressure that was in her chest gave way. How could they be in Underhill? They weren't supposed to be here. There was no dispensation, no transfer of energy or currency.
"Let's forego the how, please, and just know that we are here. Come."
"I am not stepping foot in Underhill, not knowing what the rules are for mortals, especially with rumor that the Fae have started actions to withdraw from the Cabal.
"No worries, Ms. Lucy. This is as far into Underhill as we are going. This was just the easiest way to get to the Oracle without an excess of power."
"And what is this?” Death exclaimed. “We have been traveling for millennia, and we haven't encountered anything like this."
"And you wouldn't have. This is the faerie paths. You wouldn't have been able to travel them without me."
And just like that she made herself needed and useful. Because that meant that there would be no going back without her.
"Come, you don't need to worry. I need you, remember? Please. Trust me."
“As if we have a choice,” Strife said.
"You mentioned strategy. I heard it in the tavern. It seemed to make sense."
Immortelle could do nothing but giggle. "Well, let's get going, because clearly we can't move forward or backward without you."
Ara Larusha nodded, the circlet around her forehead twinkled in the light.
"Tell me one thing, though. You mentioned that you were from a royal house of pixie. Does that mean that you're a royal?"
"Yes." She nodded.
"And, does that mean that all royals can shape-shift into something your size?"
She flushed. "Yes. It is a secret. So you can see, this is the level of trust that I have bestowed upon you. I have risked death to show you my shifted form, and for sharing this fairy path to you."
The Accords were dependent on the give and take of power to travel from one realm to the other. If the Fae were able to circumvent that and travel at will into other realms, especially the Mortal Coil...
Immortelle nodded. "Of course. And we thank you for that trust. Please, we're in need of food and shelter."
Ara Larusha. "Oh! Of course."
In a blink, the pixie royal turned and an aura of shimmering gold erupted around her. She held out her hand toward the trees, and then found the one she was searching for. "This way, come on!" She said.
And then as one, they followed her through a hollow in the tree.
The liquid was off-putting, almost like Immortelle was walking through syrup. She was still able to breathe, but held her breath anyway. It was different from the pinching suction that whisked her away from the Omnia.
The liquid around her became a little thinner, if humid air could be defined as thin. It still had that stagnant and damp feeling though. And the smell...she was familiar with the scent, but couldn't place it.
Immortelle turned behind her to see Death come through the wall, and others one by one joined. That was when she had focused on what exactly they came through.
It was a dingy wall, tiled in a specific pattern.
"We're in the subway?"
Canal Street was displayed in multi-colored tiles. Yes, this was the subway.
Ara Larusha grinned. “Yes! That is what it's called. The Subway! Come, before the snake monster returns to its den.”
The snake monster?
The creaking whine of a coming subway train echoed from deep in the tunnel, its light flashing against the tiles.
“It’s coming!” Ara dashed.
“Oh, you meant the subway train!” Immortelle said aloud as it dawned on her what the pixie had been referring to.
Immortelle knew the direction they were headed. "Are you telling me that the Oracle is likely found in Chinatown?"
Ara Larusha looked at them confused. "I'm not sure the name of the province, but it is very much like the Goblin Market in some ways." Then she seemed to think about it some more. "Yes, I do believe that it is Chinatown. That feels right."
She followed Ara Larusha, they all fell in line, and Immortelle didn't want to think about the fact that they were all in the Mortal Coil.
The walk-up apartment building was nestled between a squat brown townhouse with a pink door and the equivalent of a warehouse.
There was no regard t
o uniformity when these structures were being made. They ended up looking like books on a bookshelf. Ara Larusha mentioned that where she was leading them was something like the Goblin Market. The smells weren't as bad since they were more like rotting food scents and a conglomeration of humanity, versus the cesspool in some of the places in the Goblin Market.
"Where is this place?"
There was this feeling like they were out in the open, but as Immortelle looked up and down the street, it was this odd feeling of emptiness. As if there ought to be people here but there weren't.
Like there was life but she couldn't feel it directly.
It was strange.
Ara Larusha put a finger to her mouth, her huge eyes darting around, swiveling like huge balls.
If something like her felt the need for quiet when she was relatively calm in the face of a raging bull demon, then it was worth noting.
There was a pause and the buildings shifted and then it was like a pop sounded.
They went up in single file to go through the building entrance.
A few flights of stairs, they knocked on the door, crowding a landing. It was a good thing that War had been healing quickly. All the climbing would have been difficult with his bulk and seeping poison in his blood.
But he was less gray, which was good.
They waited for the door to open, and the last person they expected to see was there.
"Well now, ain't you a sight for sore eyes," said this older lady. She opened her arms out to greet Ara Larusha and she went into her arms for a hug quickly.
“And you brought guests! Come in, come in!”
She just waved them in without a care. Immortelle went in a little slower but she didn't want to be the one crowding the others away from being in shelter. For some reason, she had that feeling in her gut. That there was something out and about that they needed not to know they were here.
They all gathered inside the tidy little apartment. There were three main living areas but at least the space was laid out in such a way that it felt bigger than it was. Immortelle helped War sit down on the couch. The others fanned out looking at every nook and corner of the apartment.
If it was rude, then the woman didn't say anything about it.