by D. Fischer
Grey, black, and green hues take over my vision, accentuating every fine detail of everything around me. My top lip curls, exposing sharp teeth. The fee and Tember’s body become rigid, their shoulders bunching and their eye’s lifting as I grow.
Bones elongate, cracking, reforming, and the fury inside feeds it. It drives my anger to a whole new level, one that doesn’t only belong to me but the beast I am. It doesn’t hurt. In fact, it’s comforting, like the massage of a scalp. I relish it, bask in it, take comfort like a purring cat.
They’ll pay. All of them.
Sucking in a deep breath, my front feet plummet to the ground, heavy, shaking the rock like the boom of thunder against a house. The flames that were licking their way up my arms dissipate, retreating within me to fuel the bigger weapon.
The pulse of light throughout the dome skips to an uneven beat. Sureen lifts her head, concern narrowing her eyes. I’m threatening her home. Did she not expect it?
The muscles along my neck ripple with each sway and shake of my head, relishing freedom. My actions are filled with discontent, and my tail flicks to mirror it. Corbin narrowly misses the contact, disappearing and reappearing as soon as my tail crosses the space where he stood.
I snap my jaw, sharp teeth sliding over sharp teeth, disliking his vanishing act. One second, he was there, and the next, his form started to ripple, shimmering from existence before he reappeared in the same manner.
From the corner of my eye, flames outline each scale along my body, paralleling my inner turmoil. I’ve never seen it do that before. Could it be since the merge of beast and human, the connection adapted into something entirely different? Would it hurt if someone were to touch me?
I release the inferno building inside me, a bellowing roar so loud the dome walls shake, stopping the pulse altogether. Saliva drips from each razor-sharp tooth, diving to the black rock floor. The pulsing light wavers when I quiet, before beginning its tune once more.
Snorting, I eye each Fee without having to shift my neck. Everything they are reminds me of my fury, reminds me of my purpose. They almost killed me. I don’t know the details, but the details don’t matter. Each one of the creatures is the root of my plight. They see me as weak, as insignificant as the creatures they create. A pawn between their pinched fingers.
I blink slowly, letting the magic flow through each vein, each scale of my massive towering frame. They look small compared to me. The dome’s ceiling doesn’t seem so high from my vantage point.
My mother always told me to never seek revenge. Revenge was for the disobedient. “Seek revenge, and dig two graves,” she would quote. She promised that life was a cycle, and eventually, they would get what’s coming to them. Forgiveness is a time-consuming luxury which rests on patience’s shoulders. I hold neither.
When my lids open, I feel flames lick around the lids. I operate on instinct. Erline, Erma, Corbin – they gather a few feet in front of me, shuffling as close as they dare. Sureen is standing behind, angry, contorting her features in a cruel snarl. Tember stands apart from them, a lone angel exiled for her crimes by everyone she holds dear. Or maybe she recognizes untamable emotions.
The fee tuck their chins, watching the ground as their feet leave it, their bodies slowly lifting into the air against their will. They’re dumbstruck, unsure of what’s happening beyond their control. Erline raises her eyes to mine, fear creasing worry lines around her perfect porcelain face.
I stomp my foot, claws scraping against rock. Magic flows through my bones to the tips of my talons. A tremor travels into the ground and shakes the structure, threatening the dome. Crumbles of tiny pebbles break free, bouncing along and knocking together in the sound of a drumroll. The noise is like an instrument I’ve never heard, orchestrated by a brilliant mind. It feeds me, urges me in my plan built on a disobedient witch, a rebellious child, a creation that’s broken free of constricting chains.
The spikes on my head flatten, propelling my head forward, and a roar rumbles through my chest, up my neck, and through my opening mouth. It releases the magic I’ve built up inside, slamming into the hovering fee like a cloud of smoke erupting from an unstable volcano.
As if in slow motion, they fly through the air, helpless, their backs crashing into the dome wall. They drop to the ground, landing in a haphazard heap. Turning eyes to me, their faces quiver with a variety of fear. Except for Corbin. He props his top half up with his hands and the corners of his lips raise in a smile. He’s feeding from them – he’s consuming their fear. I’m making him stronger, I realize.
I snap my eyes to Tember, my chest heaving with heavy breaths. She stands still, her lips parted in shock, her attention flicking between the fee discarded on the ground and the dragon before her. I had left her untouched. She was my friend, my protector. I am her charge. Nothing can break an angel more than her charge walking away. Sometimes, the best revenge is to show my back.
Erline growls, pulling my attention back to her. My muscles tense, ready for her next move. A rapid swirl of wind cyclones around her, and she disappears, reappearing in a standing position. Flinging her arms out from her side, she tips her head back. Her white-blond hair ripples down to her hips, and she screams. The upsurge of her outrage leaves her mouth, crashing into my chest like a stream of water from a broken fire hydrant.
My dragon form flies through the air. I expand my wings on instinct, flapping them to avoid crashing into the dome wall. Hovering in the air, I drop back to all fours, roaring in her direction. Their clothes and hair ripple with my rumble. I take a deep breath and release it. Streams of scorching flames caress my tongue. It feels like a cool drink of water on a hot, dry, summer day. I hold it for a moment, relishing it. Flames lick from my nostrils in an attempt to escape. I open my mouth, and it exits my muzzle, the torrent of fire heading right for the fee.
Erma quickly stands, throwing her palms forward. The edges of her eyes are harsh and malicious as she directs a challenging stare at me. A blue, transparent wall glimmers and expands from her palms – a shield. The shield is impenetrable, my flames blanketing it, covering it like frosting smothered on a cake.
Erma drops her shield, her chest heaving with the effort to maintain her magic during such an assault. Corbin whistles low, fake-fanning himself when the flames distinguish. I snap my jaw in his direction, threatening him. He holds up his hands and laughs, shirking back against the dome wall.
“Kat,” Tember yells, trying to gain my attention. “Kat!”
CHAPTER TEN
ELIZA PLAATS
DEATH REALM
I back away from his cell, shaking my head. My red hair tickles my cheek, and I brush it away with a forceful swipe. “I can’t . . .” I begin, sorrow drips in my tone.
Dyson tilts his head. “Can’t what?”
“She can’t leave here,” Mrs. Tiller whispers, pulling at her fingers. “She has no freedom.”
Understanding dawns on the sandman. “You’re the queen. Sureen, my creator, discussed you. You’re to wed Kheelan.”
I nod my head, a tear trailing down my cheek. I’ll never leave this place. I’ll be within Kheelan’s grasp for the rest of my life. The torment I’ll endure . . .
“Do not fret,” the sandman mumbles.
Swiveling my head to him, anxiety bubbles within my chest, threatening hyperventilation. “You don’t think this,” I argue, waving my hand, “warrants worry?”
The sandman’s thick lips twist, and his sparkling eyes narrow. He pauses, choosing his words carefully. The dripping noise fills the silence once more as we hang on his every last word. “There is a reason fee do not take mates, little one.”
I sniff, angrily swiping my nose on my shoulder. “Why? Because the fee mate suicide rate is off the charts?”
“Don’t talk like that,” Dyson mumbles. He reaches up, instinct guiding him to touch the bars, to reach out to me, to draw me closer for comfort. He catches himself and drops his hand back to his side.
Sandy continues as
though he weren’t rudely interrupted with my bout of sarcasm. “Once a fee takes a mate, the mate can draw the power from the fee.”
“Is this true?” Mrs. Tiller turns, asking me as if I have all the answers. She often forgets she has been in this realm longer than I have.
I scrape my teeth over my bottom lip and swallow, my eyebrows pinching with anxiety. “Excuse me?”
“Is that true?” Dyson asks. The sandman inclines his head, and Dyson frowns, his lips puckering. I can tell he has a curious mind, constantly absorbing any information he comes across and tucking it in the back of his brain for later evaluation. He would have made an excellent scientist. “How?”
“I do not know exactly how it happens. But there are only three reasons a fee will mate. Love, vengeance, or self-preservation. As you may draw from him, he may draw from you.”
My jaw clenches, and I hiss out a breath. My future is uncertain, but a light of hope has been sparked.
“Vengeance,” I whisper. Kheelan wants vengeance. It’s always at the top of his agenda.
“And what about the witch?” Mrs. Tiller asks.
The sandman glides closer, blinking slowly. “She’s the key to end suffering across the realms.”
AIDEN VANDER
DEMON REALM
A splash in the lava diverts my attention from the demon’s tale of fire breathing creatures, just to catch a green tail disappearing beneath the surface. It doesn’t splash as it descends. The lava is a thick goop, swallowing the disturbance with easy passage before the surface is flat once more.
“What was that?” I ask before the knowledge floats to me like a whisper between my ears. “Pyren.”
The demon giggles though it holds no humor. “Very good, young one. Very good.”
“They live in this realm? They’re not demons,” I state, searching the black depth of ever expanding lava.
“Says who?” he whispers, his gnarled lips an inch behind my ear. A normal being would jump at the sudden closeness, perhaps even wonder how he managed to move undetected, but I hold no fear. I have no soul to fear for.
He continues, “Do not cling to your old lives, young one. It will not serve you well here.” He pauses, letting his subtle threat sink in. “Pyrens are not mystical. They be creatures of fear, just like you, just like I. They be crossers between realms, delivering fear to all those who sail the moving waters in their ships made of a life they destroyed.”
It takes a moment for my distracted muse to comprehend his words. “You mean wood? Trees aren’t life,” I retort, watching a head pop from the water. The Pyren claims my attention again, captivates it, enough so that my next sentence is a hushed whisper. “They have no hearts to make them so.”
The demon gives a humorless chuckle. As the Pyren floats closer, her arms wading through the lava, his voice quiets, and his words slow. “Oh, they be life. They be life with no voice to protect their continued growth.”
I suck in my bottom lip and observe her strange features. Where her tail was green, her flawless smooth skin is dark blue, and her glowing green eyes set in her smooth, flat face surely compliment the mysteries within. She’s mesmerizing, the fall of the sun over a beautifully landscaped horizon. Her mysteries call to me, beckon me, suck me in until all I want is her.
He whispers once more. “Captivating, isn’t she? Taunting, almost.” He pauses, leaning closer. “Never trust anyone. This be the only advice I will ever give you.”
The Pyren has some of the same features as a typical mermaid would - a nose, two eyes, two arms, and a fin - but it ends there. Her scalp sprouts thick black tentacles like an octopus’. Two sets of gills line the hollows of her cheeks, and foot-long spikes emerge from her temples, reaching out past the tentacles. The tips of her ears are constructed the same, appearing as though she wears a thorny crown when seen altogether.
Thick, full lips, like a fish, drown her subtle nose, and when she speaks, I almost miss it, hypnotized by her presence. Her voice is a song, beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time. “You’re late,” she sings.
“For what?” I ask, my voice husky. Her pull continues to drown me. It’s near impossible to fight. My mind hopes that I’m late for her, and my arrival is untimely to the agenda she has mapped out for me. My conscious screams of the danger her lure truly is. Bending closer, I catch myself being sucked into her presence. I give my head a shake, unnerved by how much she’s consuming me, taking over my desires, overpowering me.
Even though her eyes stare at me, it takes me a moment to realize she isn’t speaking to me.
“He’s arrived back?” The demon asks, his voice farther away from my ear.
Her tentacles move, squirming along her scalp and dipping into the lava like extra limbs seeking warmth. They play with the surface, each its own finger. “Soon,” she reveals. “He will wish to know where his thrice born child is.”
“We’ll be along shortly,” he responds, his voice low and threatening. I sense his hostility toward the Pyren, and it naturally piques my interest. Where there is hostility, there is fear.
She tilts her head, her eyes wandering my body. “So, it’s true then. You truly are thrice born?”
“His heart does beat within his chest, Ferox. But he be demon.”
A small smile brightens her cheeks with questionable humor, showing the pointed tips of her teeth within. The gills along her cheeks wrinkle, contorting their flawless slatted lines. “Not an ordinary demon. It’s . . . fascinating, isn’t it? Corbin holds the power the other fee do not.”
“And what is that?” I ask, my voice husky, wanting her attention on me and only me. I want to own her, to call her mine, to be the only thing she wants. What does she feel like, I wonder? Is she as smooth as she looks? As wise as she speaks?
Privy to the effect she’s having on me, her grin widens. “Some of the others can create life. But the next feat is pulling back a life already lost. To pull a soul from the void, to create life from a place that no one understands, not even the fee, is strength beyond anyone’s imagination.
I cross my arms. “And where did he get this newfound strength?”
Her smile widens, reaching both sides of her face, a giddy tone to her sing-song voice. “From the rebirth of his dragon queen.”
The demon wobbles, walking to stand side by side with me. “She be reborn? The dragon lives?”
Ferox rolls her eyes, blinking two sets of eyelids – the normal one and a transparent one underneath. “Do you know nothing?”
He looks away. The shredded skin along his cheeks flaps. “He enjoys talking to you finned-folk better than demon.”
“Perhaps it’s because we are better company.” She twists to face me, wading through the lava. She’s close enough now that I can smell her vanilla scent. “Though his marriage stopped when his wife died, the contract still holds despite her being reborn inside another. He feeds off his wedded, Thrice Born.” The demon splutters, but she cuts him off, raising her voice. “Before he left for his errand, he said this witch was stuck in the past, weakening her ability while her true body remained in the present. That is where he drew his strength to create you – her weakened state, her fear and dread, her dragon. He created you by thieving her powers and manipulating them for his own.”
I tilt my head. “And he plans to rescue her to keep his power source.”
She swims backward, inching away from me. I keep my arms crossed, forcing myself to not reach out to her, to pull her close. “I’m sure that deed is done already,” she whispers. “But with a power source such as the Reborn - the dragon - comes great consequence.”
The demon nods beside me. “She is his only threat. His only weakness.”
I look back and forth between them. “So how does he keep the balance in his favor?”
Ferox smiles, weak and false. “To conquer the dark, one must drown the light.”
KATRIANE DUPONT
DREAM REALM
Faster than I’ve ever done, my body molds back to h
uman form. The bones have cracked, reshaped, and my back feet curl against the rock. It’s cold here, the damp slick air slithering across my naked body that was once heated by the fire of my dragon form - by the fury of my emotions.
I’m done here. Though they convinced me to return to human form, it doesn’t mean the war is over, but my fight is gone, replaced by consuming sorrow and self-pity.
I hold out my hand, the flames returning in a swirling ball within my palm. Tember eyes me carefully, her body moving slowly. She opens her mouth to speak, to get me to see reason, but her jaw snaps shut when she watches my next move.
Using my other, I create mist on my own, not bothering to think of a spell. I don’t need them anymore, and I have no wish to hear what she has to say. My heart is broken, the fight leaving me like a wisp of wind.
I twirl my finger, mist forming, swirling like a tornado. I guide it to the ball of flames within my palm, cupping it in my hand and blowing through the small space between my thumbs. I open the cup, the ball lifting slightly above my palm, hovering on its own and waiting for further instruction. Ticking my jaw with barely contained grief, I bend, grabbing one of the many pebbles of black rock that broke free. Pinching it between my fingers, I drop it in the flames and the ball expands, shocking me with its blue and black hue.
Erline starts to yell my name, and the fee advance, preparing themselves for another attack.
“You’re not leaving here!” Erma shouts over the crackle of my developing portal.
A scream rips from my throat, and I shove both hands in front of me, a quick study from Erline’s early moves. I am my fee mother’s daughter.
A force of powerful wind shoots from my palms, and Erma slams back into the wall once more. She snarls, rising quicker than a blink, and conjures a bow similar to Tember’s.
Propelling myself forward, I tuck my arms to my side and run through the portal. An arrow unleashes, narrowly missing my ear. It whistles past, slamming into the dome behind me. The swirls of blue, firing hues envelop me as I run through, carrying me back to where I wish.