Victoria Marmot- The Complete Series

by Virginia McClain

  Rhelia laughed.

  “If he issss not, he will be little more than a char mark when nexsssst we return to the elder cssssircle.”

  “Right. I suppose the elders can take care of themselves.”

  “That issss putting it mildly,” Rhelia replied.

  “So, how exactly is this island meant to give us answers?” I asked.

  Rhelia and Trev got very quiet for a moment, and then Trev stood up.

  “Come on, Vic. Follow me.”

  DRAGONS ARE SNEAKY bastards.

  Ok. That’s an unfair generalization. The seer who approached Rhelia appeared to have been a sneaky bastard. Minus the slur on her parentage, which I knew nothing about. Still, I was beginning to understand why Trev still looked like a train had hit him, even after a full night’s sleep. We hadn’t even gotten to where he was leading me yet, and I was already a wreck.

  Not as much of a wreck as my parents’ boat was, though.

  Trev had led me through a small stand of palms that reached almost all the way to the water, then onto a long stretch of beach that was completely empty, save for the small husk of a wrecked yacht. A fifty-footer. The mast was gone, no trace of it left but a gaping hole into the galley beneath where it had once stood.

  I glanced at Trev, saw the haunting shadows in his eyes, and realized that he’d probably already had a look around.

  The whole mass of wood and fiberglass was sun-bleached and deteriorating, as one might expect from something that had probably washed up on this shore months ago, but it seemed oddly at peace; as though it belonged here on this beach, away from everything else in the world, as though it were simply resting after a job well done.

  Ok. Maybe my emotions were more of a wreck than the boat.

  The name was still visible on the stern. The Victor. I had always hated that name, as much as I’d loved the boat itself. My dad had always assured me it wasn’t named for me, especially after I had asked him if he’d wished that I had been born a boy. Mixed feeling about the fading name aside, this boat had been my home every summer since I’d turned seven. The place we’d always escaped to when the requirements of school had released me, and my parents had set aside time for all of us to head to the west coast, climb aboard The Victor, and become floating nomads, kings of our own tiny realm for six weeks out of every year.

  I didn’t bother to swipe at the tears running down my face as I took a few steps towards what was left of my childhood playground.

  Trevor put a hand on my shoulder.

  “Vic… you don’t have to—”

  “Yeah. I do, actually.”

  I gave Trev’s hand a squeeze before I pushed it off of my shoulder, stepping towards the wreckage.

  Trevor had been on that boat as a kid, I was sure. The memories that had been leaking, and sometimes flooding, back into my brain since Sol had initially helped me break whatever spell had tried to cut Trevor out of my life confirmed that much, but my parents had just purchased it before Trevor was taken. I don’t even think we’d had a chance to do more than resurface the top deck before MOME had snatched him away from us. Perhaps that was part of why the boat had become such a big part of our lives afterwards. It wasn’t laden with memories of the twin who had disappeared, the child erased from my parents memories in an attempt to spare the last child they had left. Or maybe we spent so much time there simply because it was a project my parents could obsess over, distract themselves with in an attempt to erase the nagging memories that must have been pulling at them, despite the spells that had tried to erase a quarter of our little family from their hearts.

  For me, this boat had almost been another sibling. A playmate that filled a hole I knew was there, but had been convinced was only a figment of my imagination.

  Just as I drew level with the boat, I felt a familiar presence at my side.

  “Thought you might want some backup,” Seamus said quietly.

  “You worried the Kraken is going to jump out of this thing?” I asked, unable to keep the exasperation out of my voice, even around the tears. Seamus’ protective streak was not something I appreciated.

  “Nah. Just ghosts.”

  “Ghosts can’t hurt me, Seamus.”

  “Lucky you,” he snorted. “They manage to hurt the rest of us easily enough.”

  I turned to look at him then, and when I saw his eyes I no longer wondered why Seamus had come to offer comfort instead of Sol or Trevor. The shadows that haunted Seamus’ eyes made me reach out to wrap an arm around him.

  “One of these days, when no one is trying to kill us, I really need to ask you more about yourself, don’t I?”

  Seamus leaned into the one-armed embrace, still facing the boat, while I tucked my head into his shoulder.

  “Meh. We’ll get to it eventually. It’s been a busy week. Some things are not exactly at the top of my list of things to talk about, even when no one is trying to kill me.” He shrugged.

  I chuckled, but the sound didn’t hold much humor.

  “Yeah. These things aren’t my favorite conversation pieces either,” I said, nodding towards the boat that had likely been my parents pallbearer. "Still, you shouldn't remain all dark and mysterious just because I’ve been too self-absorbed to ask you any questions.”

  “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Vic. I’m not much of a talker.”

  I sighed.

  “We doing this?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  I stepped forward, my right arm still loosely wrapped around Seamus’ torso.

  I stood before the hole in the galley where the mast had once been, the wooden deck lying almost perpendicular to the beach. I doubted much of the keel was left, but whatever was there was likely ensuring that the boat stayed on its side.

  My left hand reached out to the deck, and I could feel the salt drying on my cheeks where the sun was evaporating the tracks of my tears. The sound of the turquoise ocean around us faded, the scenery of this tiny island paradise all but disappearing, as I refocused my attention on the miniature floating world that had once been my home away from home. Even the faded grain of the wood was familiar enough to be a blow to the gut. Gwen knows I’d sanded it enough times, I’d probably recognize it with my eyes closed.

  When my hand connected with the deck I felt as though I’d touched a live wire. I tried to jump back and let go of Seamus, convinced that some of the navigation equipment must have managed to electrify the timbers of the deck, but I couldn’t move an inch. My arm went rigid and my jaw locked tight, preventing me from even screaming. My eyes rolled into my head, and a series of images, worse than even my most devastating nightmares, cascaded across my vision.

  My parents, crying, hugging each other as they watched The Victor sink beneath a violent sea from the dubious vantage of a small motor boat that looked likely to be overcome by the thrashing waves that surrounded them. A man I’d never seen before, with bulging eyes and prominent fangs, pounding against a locked door, rattling the windows and screeching, a half-dozen children huddled crying on the other side as the hinges shook. A wolf, torn limb from limb in a way that no natural predator would ever have left it. A young boy, drawing a picture of that same wolf, and a redheaded woman, tearing the picture into shreds. Six men and women sneaking up on a small wooden cabin under cover of darkness, wands drawn and guns out. Two women in pajamas screaming, turning into wolves and being hit with multiple spells and bullets, eventually falling still.

  Suddenly, I was lying in the sand looking up at three sets of legs.

  “Seamus?” I asked, hoping he was as not dead as I was.

  “I’m ok.”

  “What the hell was that, Seamus?”

  “We have to go, Vic.”

  “What the HELL was that?”

  “Vic, we have to go. We have to get back to Flagstaff!”

  “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what that was!”

  “There isn’t time, Vic!”

  “Fucking make time! What did I just see?!�
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  “I don’t know what triggered it. That’s never happened to me before. I saw your parents and then I saw… things I’ve seen before.”

  “You can start making sense any time now.”

  I was grateful that the owners of all the feet that surrounded us were staying out of it, for now— maybe because Seamus and I were both clearly alive and conscious. I supposed no one else was shouting questions at Seamus because no one else had just seen a vision of the last moments of their parents’ lives followed by… whatever all that other shit was.

  “I see the future sometimes, Vic. Sometimes the past, I guess. But mostly that’s just me reliving visions I’ve already had, or nightmares of things I already lived through. The future though… you can understand why I don’t talk about it, right? Almost no one believes in seers, Vic. Not even in our world. I was amazed to hear Rhelia talk about what she heard from a seer without a hint of derision in her voice. I guess dragons have their own thing going on, but for humans, mages, weres… it’s not like there haven’t been a few throughout history, but… it’s not a healthy condition, right? People kill you for what you do see, or what you don’t see, or what you might see. It’s not something you go around mentioning to folks, if you want to die of old age. My family doesn’t even really believe it—the few who even know about it. Did you… did you see all of that?”

  I nodded, too stunned to speak for a moment.

  “I don’t know if we saw the same things, but… I saw a kid who drew a picture of a wolf torn limb from limb… was that you?”

  “Sometimes the visions come when I’m drawing, especially when I was younger, but mostly they come as dreams. They don’t come often, regardless, but… Vic, we have to go. My moms. My moms are in danger. That vision. The mages closing in on that cabin. That’s my house, Vic. I had that vision for the first time a month before I met you, but it was different the first time. The first time I had it you were there. And you saved them. You saved my moms’ lives and… they’re all I’ve got, Vic. Please.”

  Holy fucking shitballs, Seamus was begging me to save his parents. What kind of friend was I? Did he really think he’d have to convince me to help him save his family? Even if I was a little worried that he’d only befriended me to ensure I was around to help him, I wasn’t going to say no to doing whatever I could to save his moms.

  Trev, stay here and find out what is up with this Gwendamned boat.

  Then I grabbed Seamus’ hand and shifted us the hell to Flagstaff.

  THE WOODS OUTSIDE of Seamus’ cabin were dark, thanks to being on the opposite side of the world from Fiji. I had been forced to shift us to my place first, very briefly, since I had never been to Seamus’ home before, and he’d tried calling his moms to warn them about the possibly impending attack, while I had run upstairs to grab something. There had been no answer at his place.

  We hadn’t waited after that, I’d just had him bring up a few images of his home on his phone, then I’d reached through space and time and deposited our asses into the middle of the woods 100 meters from the house.

  I’d decided that inside a house that might be crawling with evil mages wasn’t a good place to appear all of a sudden. Or at all, preferably.

  From our vantage point, the house looked calm enough. There was no sign of any disturbance. The porch light glowed welcomingly, but the interior lights were off.

  “Could they be asleep?” I asked.

  Seamus checked his phone.

  “It’s 7:30. Not likely.”

  I nodded.

  “Out to dinner?”

  “Maybe,” he replied. He did not sound convinced.

  I kept my eyes on the house and the surrounding wilderness, but could see Seamus texting someone, out of the corner of my eye.

  “They’re not at Uncle Rom’s,” he said, after a minute.

  That didn’t sound like good news.

  Just then, a light flicked on in the window of the cabin, and a silhouette briefly blocked out the light that was seeping out between a set of dark curtains.

  “Was that either of your mothers?” I asked, fairly sure of the answer due to the dropping feeling in my gut, and the fact that the silhouette had looked pretty much like a dude.

  “No.” Seamus’ voice sounded cold. I reached out my hand and squeezed his.

  “Plan B?” I asked.

  He nodded, squeezing my hand in return.

  I shifted us again.

  ~~~

  “Ow! Fuck!” I whispered angrily, as my head made contact with a low beam.

  “Shhh!” Seamus admonished.

  In my defense, I had barely vocalized the sentiment, though my head was now throbbing with the impact. If the stooges upstairs weren’t weres, then there was no way that they could have heard me, and even if they were, it was was unlikely unless they were already in their animal forms.

  This basement was not made for human habitation, and it wasn’t just the goose egg on my forehead that proved it. The spiderwebs I was working hard not to inhale were further evidence, along with whatever squishiness was making my boots sink into the… ground? Dead rats? What the hell was I standing on?

  “They should be here by now.”

  Seamus and I stiffened. The voice came from directly above us, muffled by the flooring and insulation that separated us from his moms’ bedroom.

  I looked at Seamus, but it was clear from the cold rage suffusing his face that the voice had not belonged to someone in his family.

  “How many times do we have to tell you—he isn’t here, and he isn’t coming! He’s traveling with friends, and he’s too smart for whatever ridiculous trap you—.”

  The sound of flesh connecting with flesh resounded above us, and I put my hand on Seamus’ arm, worried that he might do something rash… like tear through the floor and launch himself at whoever had clearly just hit one of his moms.

  I looked at him, and with the diffuse light that seeped in, I could see his lips pulled back in a silent snarl that very effectively imitated his wolf form.

  I wished I could communicate with him the way that Trevor and I did. Anything to try to help calm him. Now was not the time to lose our shit, though I couldn’t blame him for the impulse at all.

  “Whatever you assholes did to keep us from shifting to wolf isn’t going to be enough to keep me from killing you all at the end of this.”

  That was uttered by a different female voice, one that I thought sounded a bit like a slightly higher version of Seamus’.

  But as soon as I processed the meaning of the words, I grabbed Seamus’ arm more forcefully and pulled us back to the far corner of the basement instead of worrying about who had spoken them.

  Seamus resisted at first, but soon realized where I was headed and probably assumed I was just taking him to the corner so that we could whisper out a plan with less chance of being overheard.

  Instead, as soon as we were as close to the wall as I could get us, I pulled on time and space and dropped us in the woods outside the house once more. Only this time it felt like I had to reach through a wall of taffy to find the power that had come so easily to me only minutes before.

  “What the HELL, VIC!” Seamus turned on me, teeth bared, as soon as we had fully materialized in the woods.

  “Are nulls a real thing?” I asked, stepping back from him, hoping to lead him deeper into the woods in case he decided to yell any louder and let all the damned mages in the world know that we were here.

  “What?!”

  “Nulls. People, or devices, that absorb magic and keep spells and shit from happening. They exist in half the fantasy books I read. Do they exist in real life? Trev said he was touched by one back in Bolivia and then he couldn’t shift.”

  Seamus thought about that for a long moment.

  “They might exist. I don’t know any personally, and they would probably be mages, or related to them, but I’ve heard a story or two with a person that fit that description.”

  I nodded.


  “Well, I think that the mages in your parents' place have brought one along for the ride. One of your moms was talking about not being able to shift, and pulling us out here felt like pulling through a wall of taffy just now, when pulling us in five minutes ago felt as easy as any other shift.”

  “Couldn’t you just be getting tired? You brought us here from Fiji, after all.”

  “Yeah, but the distance shouldn’t matter. If I’m wrinkling time and space to bring two points together, the distance between doesn’t matter. The thing that tires me out is doing it over and over again, or taking multiple people on multiple rides. So far I’ve only brought you on two, now three, trips, while being fairly well rested, although I’ll admit I’m damned hungry.”

  “Here,” he said, handing me an energy bar that he pulled from the cargo pocket on his snow pants, leaving me reeling at how quickly he’d transitioned from wanting to kill me for taking him away from his moms to worrying about my well-being.

  “I’m sorry I took you away from your folks,” I said, biting into the slab of crunchy peanut butter energy bar. “I didn’t know where the null was, or if we’d be able to get out of there, or pull on were forms at all if we stayed. It didn’t seem like a good idea to walk into that kind of trap without some kind of backup.”

  “What kind of backup is going to help us when our magic won’t work at all?”

  “This,” I said, holding up the Glock 45 I’d retrieved from beneath a floorboard under my bed.

  “I thought you hated guns,” Seamus said, grimacing at the handgun I was holding up.

  “I do,” I said, loading it and stuffing two extra clips into my pockets. “But an ex of mine loved guns, taught me how to shoot, and bought me this thing for Christmas one year.”

  “And you kept it?”

  I shrugged.

  “After my parents died and I started living alone, it seemed like a not terrible idea for a bit… but I locked it up with the ammo stored in a separate container, so… not actually all that useful for home defense.”

  “Why didn’t you use that on Edik?”