by Jim Stein
“We could have done this the easy way,” he said as he held out his other hand. “The shield, if you please.”
“That’s what this is all about? Why drag me along if—”
The words froze in her throat as he flicked the wand. The spell hit like a cold wind, cutting through her from head to toe. She had no time to cry out or defend herself, and now couldn’t move a muscle.
“He brought you along as insurance.” Rhonda stepped into view behind Charles.
He whirled and snapped the wand up. “Not another step. You know what I can do to her.”
“And now with the evil threats.”
Rhonda didn’t look worried, but Anna certainly was. The wand’s power throbbed, wanting to do terrible things. Where on Earth had Charles gotten such a thing, and what did he want with the shield? The drummer had as much to lose as any of them if the portal unleashed its full power.
“Don’t get cute with me. I know you Dark Court types. You might be fast as a cheetah, but I’ve trained with the best. You won’t make it.”
“And gasp.” Rhonda covered her mouth, mocking surprise. “Your masters shall release the power of the shield, and chaos will rain down upon the world to remake all into your god’s image, an everlasting entropy to worship.”
“The likes of you won’t stop it.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t plan to do a thing.”
The woman crossed her arms and examined nails that suddenly looked way too long to be manageable. Darkness moved behind her, just below the plane of Anna’s vision because even her stupid eyes refused to budge. The shadow swelled, and a large black animal trotted around the rock.
Max! She wanted to run over, bury her face in his soft fur, and find this was all a dream. But Ed’s dog kept his glowing eyes glued to Charles. Max swelled and shifted again. Not just his shadow. One minute the dog stood level with Rhonda’s waist, and the next he came up to her shoulders. His hackles rose with a dark radiance shining every bit as brightly as those gold eyes. He pawed the ground twice and…Anna stumbled forward as the magic winked out.
“No!” Charles jabbed the wand at her, at Rhonda, and at a now normal-sized Max, but there was no power. “Fuck this.”
He drew a heavy black pistol from under his combat vest and aimed at Max. Sullen red anger at being duped smoldered in her belly. But fear and white-hot rage burned it to ash when the gun appeared.
“Not Maxie!”
Power flooded her, sweeping away rational thought in the pounding chords of “The Immigrant Song” by Led Zeppelin—just like last time. Music and power took control, forcing her aside. She watched from outside her body as both hands raised a swirling mass of air. Jagged rock shards ripped from the surrounding boulders and joined the spell.
Max and Rhonda cowered back. Charles pivoted, dropped to a knee and fired. The first shot disappeared into her tornado, feeding the rage and the spell. He unloaded the entire clip, then turned to run as she swept a hand forward.
The spell caught him from behind, jagged debris tearing his clothes to ribbons. Blood welled from a hundred cuts. This wasn’t like before. This was deadly. Anna shuddered at the thought of killing with Spirit, with the power of life.
No, not again! Not if she could help it.
She clawed back to her body, forcing herself to accept what she was—a child, a dangerous child throwing a tantrum. The thought wriggled and pulled, trying to escape, but she hugged it tight.
Wild and alive, happy to be unleashed, the spell fought her. It flayed her hands with shards of power. But she wasn’t an animal, and her power wasn’t evil. They were one. She held tight, promising herself never again to let go, never to lose control. They would get through this together.
She soothed the frantic music, letting the stones and dirt fall from the swirling energy surrounding the drummer. She drew Spirit and air together like a fine blanket, closing the seams and drawing Charles up to stand with arms pinned at his sides—every bit the prisoner she had just been.
Anna smiled, not at the spell, but at an inner wholeness that had been missing.
***
“She’s not downstairs.” Dwain stepped off the elevator for the third time.
I suspected he just liked riding down to the shield chamber and watching the scene on the walls change. The current art showed a great swelling of the vortex and frantic preparation among the Ants and other races strewn across the plains. The sky overhead ripped open, like a crack in the very fabric of the world.
Using Earth magic had been our only hope, but we needed to find Anna and the shield to put things right. The city entrance was half blocked with rubble, so she probably sought shelter elsewhere. Charles and Rhonda had gone missing too. Not finding the drummer smashed into paste was a relief. Hopefully he’d helped Anna get clear.
“You know the area.” I turned to Dawa. “Is there another way in, some place they might be hiding?”
“This is the only ground-level entrance.”
Keeping their heads down made sense, but the battle was over and they should have returned. With the titan gone, Muuyaw collapsed into a mumbling, incoherent heap. He lay curled around the carved wooden tablet that Dawa said served as his prayer book.
“We’ll search from the four-wheelers.” I waved Vance and Pete out the door. “Keep an eye on your brother.”
“He prays to a god that has abandoned him,” Dawa said with a sad shake of his head. “I fear Muuyaw may never recover.”
“Don’t worry, Ed.” Dwain said as he stepped back onto the elevator and sank out of sight. “I’ve got my eye on that guy.”
I sighed and turned to the last person in the room. Little Ralph looked up expectantly. I ruffled his ears, but still he waited.
“Your job’s most important of all. Go find Max. Can you do that?”
I took his excited jitter at my dog’s name for agreement. Finding Max was important. I refused to lose him again. Pete waved impatiently from the ATVs. I held up one finger and turned back to the imp, but Ralph had vanished.
We saddled up and headed for the edge farthest away from the sheer drop. They couldn’t have gone far. As we approached the slope, Max trotted over the rise ahead. Ralph rode on his back, looking smug.
“One problem solved,” I said.
“Look again.” Pete waved us to a stop.
A blond head bobbed into view. Anna climbed up onto the plateau with a self-confident look mirroring Ralph’s. If it hadn’t been for that expression, I’d have rushed to help because power flowed from the girl in a narrow tether. The magic ended in a complex knot of energy tied tight around someone being dragged in her wake. Charles followed along looking distinctly pissed. I thought he walked, but as the pair came fully into view, I saw his feet floated a few inches above the ground. Anna spotted us right away.
“Where’s Dwain? The shield’s going haywire.” She hurried over, which had Charles cursing as he bounced along the ground like a hot air balloon trying to land in a hurricane.
“He’s inside.” I raised an eyebrow at Charles.
“Charles is an ass.” Anna gave the tether a tug, cutting him off when he tried to object. “He tried to steal the shield for some extremist cult. Rhonda calls them the Children of Chaos.”
There was no sign of Manny’s assistant. I didn’t like the idea of leaving Charles tied up in Spirit flows like a Christmas present, but we didn’t have time to unravel what was going on.
Anna handed over the shield, and I felt the wrongness as I flipped open my jacket. Power vibrated across the leather surface. Earth magic, my magic, filled the device to bursting and swirled down to disappear at its center.
A void of despair and misplaced hope sucked at the power, fueling the imbalance that had built to a breaking point. A great roaring filled my head. The far horizon out beyond the prostrate Muuyaw had turned the green-blue of angry ocean water. But the tide building in ferocity as it swept across the plains wasn’t water.
“Gods, is that the vortex?
” Quinn asked.
I nodded. The shield vibrated with anxious need. If it was one of the flying type, I think the artifact would have zoomed off to intercept the vortex. Dwain rushed out and threw himself on Lifebringer.
“Not good!” The sprite hugged the thrumming shield to his chest, then settled it across his knees and went to work.
His magic flowed, yellow sunshine soothing the tortured artifact. With my hand on the hoop, I followed some of his ministrations. A kind of roadmap was superimposed in my Sight, showing power flowing to and from the shield, the vortex, and the lands of the third world.
The frantic vibrations calmed under the sprite’s power. He reached into the tangled workings of the device and gingerly lifted one strand of power away from the vortex. It immediately went unstable, convulsing and trying to reattach to others feeding the breach between worlds.
Dwain caressed the strand with his magic. It settled into a fitful twitching, and he carefully moved it away from the vortex. An image of the Ant village appeared beneath his work as he coaxed the strand to latch onto the edge of the field nearest the river. When it did, a trickle of energy—of my twisted Earth magic—flowed away to sink into the field.
Dwain plucked off another thread and then another, placing them at points we’d visited since entering the third world. The twisted forest got several threads, as did the painted plains, the village, and even the long lake with its dead sea monster.
The process took a toll on our sprite. His face grew haggard. Quinn knelt and held him upright when he tipped sideways and nearly dropped the shield. After he repositioned a dozen strands, Dwain sliced the incoming feed of Earth magic and sagged back against Quinn to catch his breath. His attention was still in his spell-work. I felt him there, watching—as was I.
“What the—” I gasped as Earth power flowed back to me with an electric jolt.
Another string feeding the vortex slipped away on its own and slid over to join one of the village strands. A second pulled off and reattached at the painted plains. The process accelerated. More and more of the power feeds detached until only three remained to push power at a suddenly sullen-feeling vortex.
The portal was already shrinking, having grown too large to support itself without the glut of power provided by the shield. That power now flowed into the land where the strands connected and a healing wave spread across the third world.
“I left a little feeding the portal so we have a way home,” Dwain said.
“You fixed the third world!” I grinned like an idiot.
“All I did was make a loop.” Dwain shook his head and blew out a breath. “The shield still sucks life from this world. It’s a zero-sum game right now, so nothing’s going to get better until I give it a new power source. That’s the tricky part. We need it to siphon off disease, pain, and as much negative stuff as possible. But I’m not certain how to do that.”
Dwain dove back in and removed one of the swollen gray power drains that leeched energy from an intricate web across the land. He tried to attach the squirming thing to the village, but it refused. Dwain’s exasperation grew as he tested different locations only to be left holding the reluctant power input.
“Perhaps I can help.” Dawa sat cross-legged beside the sprite and laid his hands on the hoop. “I am well versed in the suffering of this land.”
A gentle hand wrapped around Dwain’s spell and guided him to a chamber deep in the underground section of the village. Something in that particular spot called to the shield. The tendril latched on, and a kind of dark syrupy energy oozed toward the main workings of the shield.
“It is the place my people go when their infirmity grows too great,” Dawa said.
They moved another power drain to the foot of the mountains and a third onto a distant shoreline. But growing unease prickled along the back of my neck. At Max’s growl, I looked up to see Muuyaw push to his feet. The wooden tablet in his hand flared with power.
“No you don’t.” Vance strode toward him.
Ten steps from the Ant, crimson energy flashed across the deputy’s chest and threw him back to land in an unconscious heap. Pete had been about to rush in, but instead hurled a couple of fist-sized rocks. A protective shield shimmered around Muuyaw and the first projectile bounced away. The second exploded into dust.
The tablet glowed bright magenta. Power poured into Muuyaw until his eyes blazed neon-purple and the wood smoked and crumbled to dust.
“I will leave this world.” The Ant’s words reverberated, his normal voice overlaid with a deep bass.
“Brother, there is no need,” Dawa said. “We can fix Lifebringer.”
“You are not my equal, not my brother!” the sonorous voice boomed. “None shall deny my escape from this wretched realm.”
The flick of his hand released a bolt of energy that blasted the ground in front of the shield. Dwain flew backward still clutching Lifebringer, while Dawa and I rolled aside. The sizzling energy was pure and primal, altogether different and stronger than anything I’d felt before. Sprites were hardy. Dwain dusted himself off and bent to redo the last thread.
“Muuyaw’s being a total dick,” I said to Dawa. “You need to buy us time.”
“I fear my brother is gone. Pöqanghoya now uses him as a vessel.”
“The north pole god?” Pete frowned at the new and bigger rock he’d hoisted, before dropping it. “We’re fighting a god-damned…well, god?”
“Calm down. There’s no reason we have to fight.” I said. “Dawa here will just call up his south pole counterpart to take care of this. Right?”
“Sadly, Palöngawhoya has dwindled to a mere echo of his former self and no longer answers.”
“Well, crap.” I turned to Muuyaw, or at least the shell that had been the man. “Dwain’s left the portal open. Just go.”
“It’s always so simple for you humans.” He glared at me, quite a feat with all that energy pouring from his eye sockets. “Time after time you have been saved, sent away to start anew.” Anger built behind his words. “You are but insects to my power, and yet I am the one forever trapped—relegated to watch these lands, isolated from the cosmos. Only mortals may pass through the portal. I will see the world veil destroyed, shredded so it may no longer contain me. I…will…be…free!”
The rocks at my feet surged and stone spikes shot toward my chest. I threw out a shield of Spirit as I jumped back. The jolt of collision drove the next song I’d prepared out of my head.
“Help him finish.” I pushed Dawa toward the sprite. “Dwain, tell me it’s safe to use Earth now.”
My arms and chest stung like I’d slammed an aluminum bat against a steel pole. My spell hadn’t stopped Muuyaw’s attack, but it did slow the stone spikes. When the power that drove them hit, my defensive shields shattered. At Dwain’s nod, I forced myself to ignore the pain and scrambled to call up Earth with the easy power of Seether’s “Country Song.”
Shots rang out. Brilliant white flashes erupted in a tight grouping in front of the possessed Ant. Pete had Charles’ assault rifle and took full advantage of the semi-auto mode. Muuyaw turned to my friend and raised a padded hand, but hot red flames splashed across the front of his shields.
Manny poured power into the attack, to the point the stone and sand melted in a ring before the ant-god. A jet of water slammed into Muuyaw’s shields from behind as Quinn forged water from the little fall into a liquid drill. He swung from one attacker to another, unable to effectively counter, and his personal shields buckled under the onslaught.
“You are nothing!”
He could say anything he wanted, it bought us time. Time I used to find a good point of attack. I unleashed my spell with the galloping refrain, a simple tune to guide my element and shake the rock below Muuyaw. I grinned as the ant’s eyes flew wide and he stumbled. His god-like shields might keep things out, but he still needed solid ground under his feet.
Dust rose from the contained quake, obscuring our view as much as the flaring bull
ets, fire, and water. With a mighty clap, Muuyaw’s shields collapsed. He cursed as the spells converged on him, giving us the impression we were making progress.
“Enough!” A wave of his hand sent water and flames in an arc around him so they slammed together and the spells canceled out. Pete yelped and dropped his gun just before it melted to slag. My quake rumbled on, but some force of will stabilized the ground under Muuyaw.
Two dark forms flashed past. Max led the charge, looking to be twice his normal size. Perhaps it was a trick of the light or simply the fact his fur stood almost straight out. He lunged fast as lightning. His teeth should have sunk into Muuyaw’s hip, but they slipped off, closed on a pouch, and tore the ornament from his belt. Muuyaw’s arm shot out, unleashing crimson energy that parted around Max like fog.
Not to be outdone, Rhonda followed a heartbeat behind. She too grew larger as she ran. Her nimble steps turned into a long lope, and her arms lengthened to touch down between strides. Her wispy curls flounced then cascaded over her shoulders in a thick mane as her face and ears sharpened into a predatory mask. Rather than waste time on threats or feints, she simply slammed into Muuyaw. The impact drove the Ant to the ground under snapping jaws and hands tipped with sharp black talons.
The ant’s padded fingers were a poor match for those deadly claws. Gashes opened on his face and arms. Rhonda’s attack was more than physical. Dark energy flared with each strike. Max darted back in, still unable to get his jaws around the ant, but tearing his clothes and belongings to shreds.
But just as my dog and Manny’s assistant had grown, so now did Muuyaw. Under the slashing attack, his features grew misshapen and knobby like those of the infected Ant People. But rather than clubbed hands and feet, those useless finger pads flattened into blades. He drove butcher knife fingers deep into Rhonda’s sides and lifted her off.
His legs folded backward, and he pushed to his feet, still holding Rhonda in front of him. Her feline face twisted in agony as she slashed at his arms. Max managed to grab a particularly tough cord at his waist, which kept my poor mutt in range a moment too long. The double jointed leg swept forward and punted Max hard in the side. A sharp crack and yip exploded from him, but my stupid dog struggled to his feet and limped forward on wobbly hind legs.