Dynami’s Wrath

by St Clare, Kelly

  Ebba listened. Her shock palpable even through her near slumbering state.

  Medusa didn’t speak for a long time. “And did you collect all of these beads?”

  “All but four. Two were lost to the sea. Swindles destroyed the other two when he caught wind of what I was doin’.”

  “I see . . . and did you give her these beads?”

  “. . . I did. I hurt her though. Didn’t mean to do that. Just wanted to make things right. Wanted her to be joyful again and know her time on Malice hadn’t changed who she was.”

  He had? Why hadn’t he told her all that at the time? Actually, why was he saying all this now? The thought reached her with all the urgency of a soothing tendril of a soft, white cloud. She gripped at the wisp in her mind with both hands, holding to it. Jagger gave her the beads, and she’d shoved them in the bottom of her trunk. If he’d told her that story, however, she would’ve at least accepted them with good grace.

  Jagger didn’t think she’d changed after Malice?

  Ebba tried to turn to him and her head flopped onto his shoulder.

  “What have you done to them?” he demanded. “Why are they sleeping?” Jagger’s voice was too loud.

  “No, mortal. The question is: Why aren’t you sleeping?”

  Under her head, Ebba felt the shift in Jagger’s posture as he glanced around. “It’s the water, isn’t it? That’s why your daedalions are scrubbin’ the floor.”

  Ebba frowned. They were being drugged? Through her drifting state, panic swelled, yet still she remained as limp as wet seaweed.

  “It is,” the goddess hissed from directly behind them again. “But you have not succumbed to its sleep-inducing qualities? It affects you; you have spilled your deepest truths to me. Yet you are resisting, though I sense you have no magic.”

  Jagger shrugged. “So what?”

  “Immune,” Medusa breathed. “You are the immune. I wondered which one of you it would be.”

  Immune? That rang a distant bell, but Ebba couldn’t access the thought.

  The woman shoved her aside and, unable to control her fall from the chair, she ended up sprawled over Caspian’s lap like a naughty child.

  Medusa rushed. “I have not seen your like in seven hundred and sixty-eight years. An immune,” she whispered to him. “In my clutches.”

  There was something about that time frame, but Ebba couldn’t recall what it was. Regardless, she didn’t like the goddess’ tone, slightly reverent and definitely possessive. The immortal had moved from Caspian to Plank and now to Jagger in the blink of an eye, but now she seemed decided.

  “What is an immune?” Jagger asked her.

  Water was being poured and a spark of anger lit within Ebba. Was Jagger pouring himself a drink right now? They were all immobile, and he was just concerned about washing down the meal?

  “An immune, my male, is a mortal who possesses immunity to magic. Only one line has ever and will ever exist.”

  “Then that ain’t me,” he answered. “I’ve been possessed by magic plenty. The taint.”

  “I said immunity, not that you are impervious. If you are exposed to enough magic over a long period of time, you will feel the effects, but as soon as you are removed from the source, you will begin to press it back.”

  He inhaled sharply, and Ebba was glad he was as shocked as her. For once.

  She could guess that all the others were too. Was that how he’d resisted the taint on Malice for so long? He had something that helped him—this immunity.

  “Though,” Medusa mused, “if you’ve experienced the taint, you have resisted the darkest and most powerful magic of all.” Amusement seeped into her voice. “I see you’ve already met my masters, mortal? You have met the pillars six.”

  Eighteen

  Medusa was a lackey of the six pillars. The enemy they were trying to defeat. The woman must’ve guessed they were working against them as soon as she saw the two magical cylinders and veritas. Old as she was, she’d surely guessed their reason for wanting to collect the pieces.

  “I have met the pillars,” Jagger said. Was the heady aroma still making him speak truth? “Their taint, anyway—for two years.”

  “And yet you stand before me, cognizant,” Medusa answered him. “In that, you are stronger than even I. For though I embrace the power their darkness gives me to help me become a gorgon, even I am their minion. But you, what you could be if you were at my side.”

  Would their kids have snakes coming out of their heads?

  “How am I immune?” he asked after a beat.

  Medusa stood. “The role of immune is passed from parent to child. Your mother or father was also an immune.”

  “I didn’t know my parents,” he confessed. There was another pause.

  It was a great thing that Jagger wasn’t rushing to save them. This was the best possible time to have a lengthy conversation, with her sprawled over Caspian’s lap. Just perfect.

  Could the prince feel her here? He had to, if he was still conscious like her.

  Medusa’s knee knocked Ebba’s head as she resumed her seat once more.

  “Why is my family immune? Why aren’t others?” Jagger’s voice shook as he asked.

  “Because there is only one family of immunes. The eldest of the line is always one of the three.”

  “The three what?” Jagger leaned forward, his calf brushing Ebba’s bare foot.

  Ebba was all ears as well. That’s all she could be at the moment. And even listening was becoming steadily harder.

  The goddess sighed. “I hope you will not always ask so many questions. But I plan to keep you, mortal, and so I shall suffer your ignorance. And in truth, when immortality was ripped from this world, it disappeared in all forms, so your ignorance can be forgiven. The immortal leaders of this realm through the ages were always regulated by mortals who had the ability to assemble and dissemble the root of magic. Though the complete and intact root could not be held by a mortal, no immortal could reassemble it. In this way, immortal and mortal kind were balanced.”

  Codfish. There were only so many times the number three could crop up before Ebba was forced to align things in her head. The Earth Mother had mentioned the three watchers who eventually locked the six pillars away. The thunderbird mentioned that Ebba was chosen by her two counterparts. And now Medusa was yammering on about a trio who could assemble the root of magic. A beam of light shot out when she, Caspian, and Jagger touched, leading them to the next part of the root. Adding to the mix that only their crew could assemble the weapon to defeat the pillars, and Ebba had a sick feeling the three watchers might be in this very room. And worse, that she was one.

  Shite. This was bad. Being one of the three heroes was a whole new level of commitment to merely saving the realm.

  “What are you going to do with them?” Jagger asked, voice low.

  Medusa tapped a long nail on the table. “My masters are on their way to collect them. If I present the three watchers to the pillars, they might gift me with the immune, coveted though you are.”

  The pillars were coming here? In her terror, Ebba managed to twitch her foot against Jagger’s leg.

  “They will take your friends and enslave them as they are already enslaving the realm. Delicious darkness once more,” the goddess purred. “I will finally become a gorgon. But you, my immune, my treasure. You will remain here by my side, exalted amongst men. All I ask in return is that you fall in love with me.”

  Jagger’s leg shifted against Ebba’s foot.

  “Mortal, I ask you as I have asked countless others under the power of my special water: Could you love me?”

  The temperature plummeted too fast for magic to not be involved.

  The scrubbing was right next to Ebba’s head, and feathers brushed her arm.

  “Nope,” Jagger said, standing. “I’d rather go to hell itself. Whatever ye once were, ye’re twisted inside now. I want no part of ye, except to see yer heart out of ye and yer body burn.”


  Ebba sighed inwardly.

  “As so many have said before you, though none so graphically,” Medusa said. The sound was tight, as though made through clenched teeth. “Yet you are the only one of your kind. I cannot give you up.”

  “Then release Viva—and the others. Return them to their ship with the log. Let them go on their way, and I’ll remain. Do this, and I’ll stay willingly. I’ll even try to like ye.”

  “This I cannot do, lover. For my duty to my masters is greater than any love I can have.”

  “And that be why ye can’t find love, Medusa. For duty and love belong together.”

  A breeze fluttered against Ebba’s shoulder. It teased the loose parts of her dress and cooled her skin.

  Medusa’s chair scraped back. “What was that?”

  The breeze strengthened, pushing away the heady aroma and bringing the sea air in with it. Medusa’s cries filled the chamber as the breeze heightened, rising, streaming until wind flooded the cavern.

  Ebba groaned as the air pushed away the heady smell filling her senses. She tried to move her fingers and toes, hearing the groans of her fathers and Caspian above her.

  Strong arms pulled her up and cradled her. Then they began running.

  The wind strengthened, whistling as the person carrying her jolted down the stairs, and clearing away some of the clouds in her mind.

  Ebba cracked open her eyelids, squinting back over the person’s shoulder just as a brilliant glow erupted in the cavern. White light filled every space, converging around Medusa at the head of the table. The light was moving, and as Ebba’s eyes came into focus, she discerned the large light was made of many tiny floating lights.

  One zipped right by her face.

  “It’s the wind sprites,” she slurred. Sally had come to save them. And she’d brought friends.

  Ebba scanned for her crew and jerked, seeing they were cradled in the daedalions’ arms. Half were behind, and she assumed the rest were in front.

  She looked up, shrieking when the older hawk-woman who’d helped her dress peered down at her. Heart leaping in her throat, Ebba searched for the rest of her crew and caught sight of the rest of her fathers and Caspian in front. Jagger was directly in front of her, running without aid, the veritas in hand.

  The air grew lighter and lighter as they were carted out of the tunnel and up the stairs to the surface.

  The line of daedalion didn’t stop until they were beyond the pools filled with the same water that had almost seen the crew of Felicity incapacitated and carted off to the six pillars. Why were the daedalions helping them anyway? They were Medusa’s servants. Not that Ebba was in a position to argue.

  The immortal placed Ebba on her feet and stumbled to her lover, holding him close. Ebba weaved to her fathers and clung to each of them in turn before hugging Caspian. Hesitating briefly, she strode to Jagger and hugged him too. He grunted, not returning the gesture, and she pulled back, staring up at him. Everything he’d said down in the cavern hung heavy in the air. The sweet water had made him speak truth, and what he’d confessed was enough to force Ebba off the precipice she’d balanced on since they first met.

  She was going to trust Jagger, for better or for worse.

  “Lass, get back here with ye,” Peg-leg instructed, his eyes on the tunnel exit.

  Ebba strode to his side and watched as the daedalions converged outside. Their ranks swelled, more and more exiting the underground tunnel to gather behind Ebba and her crew.

  Eventually, what she assumed was the last one joined the ranks, and silence descended over the pools in the forest clearing. Eyes turned to the tunnel entrance as a glowing light blazed. Wind sprites zipped out to float above their heads like lanterns, enclosing the tree line where they stood around the perimeter of the pools.

  A very naked Medusa was forced into the open, still surrounded by the glowing light. Eyes watering, Ebba squinted to see. The goddess was wrapped in a white chain, an iron ball dragging along the ground behind her, attached to a manacle about her ankle. Sally, the source of the glow, led the prisoner.

  In her tiny hands was the part they’d come to the Dynami for. The next part of the weapon.

  “Ye got it, Sal,” Ebba said, stepping forward.

  Not only that, Sally came for them. After all the times she hadn’t been there, the sprite had finally pulled through.

  Sally nodded over her shoulder at her sprite minions.

  “You’ll regret this, Saliha,” Medusa screamed, bucking wildly, her eyes bulging with an insane edge.

  The sprite queen flipped the goddess off.

  “You’ll destroy the sprites,” the goddess hissed. “You’re too weak to rule.”

  Sally tossed the cylinder to her minion sprites, who scrambled to catch it, and slowly rounded on the goddess.

  Medusa smirked, but the curve of her lips disappeared as the sprite raised two fisted hands out by her sides. A swirling funnel of air encased the goddess, and her piercing shrieks were barely heard over the howling wind.

  Smiling, Sally opened one hand, a wrinkle between her tiny brows. Ebba jumped as a hurtling procession of daggers whipped out of the tunnels, a blur to her eyes. The daggers entered the wind funnel around Medusa, and her shrieks turned to screams for an instant before the goddess-sized hurricane was gone, the daggers clattering on the stone ground.

  The sprite queen crossed her arms, and Ebba stared past her pet sprite, blanching.

  “Blimey,” Peg-leg hushed.

  Sally had given Medusa a haircut. Not a single one of her writhing snakes remained.

  The sprite queen waved her hand, and the resultant gust shoved the goddess into a large pool of the bleaching water.

  The gathered mixture of daedalions, sprites, pirates, and royalty watched in silence as Medusa sank to the bottom. Ouch.

  “Is she dead?” Barrels whispered.

  Sally shook her head. She gestured to her minions, who scrambled to return the cylinder to their leaders. The sprite waved the tube in Ebba’s face.

  Hastily, Ebba passed the dynami over to Peg-leg so she could take the new part.

  The dynami was rounded on one end, the veritas was a sword, the purgium two flat, circular ends, and this part was different again. Though made of the tarnished silver with the pearly sheen swimming beneath the surface, the shape was new. On one end, the tube tapered into a sharp point; the opposite end was a flat circle. The letters S-C-I-O were engraved up the side.

  The six parts had to make one weird weapon.

  “Medusa won’t die,” Sally said, her voice rich and velvety. “She will stay there until she’s freed. And if the pillars have already sent their lackeys, that will be sooner rather than later. We should leave as soon as possible.”

  “She said the six pillars are on their way,” Ebba replied, glancing up.

  Wait.

  “Ye just spoke to me.” Ebba rushed forward to the hovering sprite.

  Locks grabbed her arm. “She’s just squeakin’ like normal, lass.”

  She shook her head. “Nay, I just heard her. Her voice is kind of deep, actua’ly. Masculine-like.”

  “Stately,” Sally countered, her tone smooth and full.

  One by one, they all glanced down at the pointy tube in Ebba’s hands.

  “Guess we know what the scio be doin’ then,” Plank said, echoing her thoughts.

  Stubby stepped forward. “What did she say to ye?”

  Ebba broke her stare with the sprite, who was smirking. She could hear Sally. “Sh-she said that Medusa won’t die, but she’ll stay there until she’s freed. The pillars’ lackeys will be comin’, and we should leave as soon as we can.”

  “Hopefully they’ll take long enough for us to get out o’ here without another fight,” Peg-leg said.

  They were interrupted when the two oldest daedalions—the ones Ebba had identified as the original lovers—approached and dropped to one knee before her and the crew.

  “What’re ye kneelin for?” Ebba scolded. “
Up with ye.” They shot to their feet, making her feel bad.

  “You’d make a terrible queen,” Sally said, inspecting her nails.

  Flamin’ pet.

  “My lady.” The male spoke.

  Ebba jolted before realizing the scio didn’t just work on sprites. Did the cylinder work for all magical people who couldn’t talk in the mortal language? Sink her, there needed to be a book on all the different creatures and who could do what. She’d make Barrels start one—if he hadn’t already.

  “Just Ebba, please,” she told them. “And I thank ye and the rest of yer . . . flock for helpin’ us out o’ Medusa’s lair.” Even if ye were the ones to bring the sleeping water in.

  “When we saw that one among you could resist, and that you had magical beings on your side, how could we not? All immortals know of the three watchers. We know what objects you hold and the burden you bear for all. For thousands of years, we have been tied to Medusa, her servants for eternity, though we did not ask it of her. It was time to do our part to help this realm, regardless of the consequences.”

  “But she saved ye from death,” Ebba said. A quick glance at her crew’s confused faces reminded Ebba this conversation was entirely one-sided to them. “Why wouldn’t ye wish her to save ye from that?”

  “We had chosen death. We wanted the freedom to be together in the way we wished, without restraint.”

  “And Medusa took yer ability to love freely from ye,” Ebba said slowly, her head tilted.

  The female daedalion at the male’s side dripped her beaked head. “Yes, lady. She did.”

  “Can ye be free now she’s in the pool?” Ebba asked.

  The lovers shook their heads.

  “No, but there is another way,” the male said. He turned to look at Jagger, to what was clutched in his hands—the veritas. And then to the purgium Caspian held before returning to look at her. “The beam of light the three of you create can dissolve dark magic.”