Box Set: The Fearless 1-3

by Terry Maggert

  Peter flailed his arm, once, but Joseph caught it in an iron grip and dislocated the elbow with an incremental bend, the soft pop of the bursa echoing in the room like a precursor to an avalanche. Gasping, Peter opened his mouth to scream, but Joseph darted the pliers, which appeared in his hand with a lightning speed, and caught his tongue, placing a tiny amount of pressure that drew a jeweled drop of blood which smeared like a flower petal underfoot.

  “I know,” Joseph began in a conspiratorial voice, “it feels like betrayal. But it isn’t, you see, because she already knows. She has always known, just as you understand, here and now, that this can only end in one fashion. So, I ask one more time, where can I find these women?” As he finished the question, Joseph removed the pliers and folded his arms in a pose of silent attention. Peter, sobbing through his tears, folded inward, and in a voice of utter defeat, began to speak.

  44

  Florida

  “Well, this is unexpected.” I looked at Kevin’s long form standing on our porch, holding a basketball under one arm and looking a bit uncomfortable.

  Wally pulled at my shoulder and said, “Come in, come in, Father!”

  Her excitement died on the vine when Delphine stepped around him and said, “Love to. Is it too early for wine, Waleska?” Now Kevin’s twisted grin was explained as he waved Delphine ahead in a solidly continental display of gallantry.

  Over her shoulder, Wally yelled, “Risa, Kevin’s here. And she’s here, too.”

  “Bullshit,” echoed Risa’s voice from within the kitchen. “Seriously?”

  In answer, Wally grunted as we all shuffled inside, an odd silence descending around the usually jovial priest and our own resident succubus escort. Risa stood, hands on hips, and eyes goggled at our motley assembly. Her gaze darted to and from all of us, finally settling on Delphine, to whom she offered a curt nod, thought better of it, and then extended her hand in greeting.

  “Delphine, please excuse me for being rude. Come in, and no, it’s not too early for wine. A rather large glass, I would think,” Risa added, warming to the moment, if not the guest. Kevin remained befuddled for a second, and then his eyes brightened and rounded as he took the measure of a woman whom he had been told was, for all intent, older than God. He was quick, and it appeared to be nothing more than a happy accident that he and Delphine had arrived on each other’s heels. Wally snagged a bottle of white wine from the refrigerator while Risa pulled glasses down from the hanging rack under the cabinet. Kevin suddenly became aware of the fact he was holding a basketball and set it on the counter, placing a finger on top to assure it remained obedient, then thought better of it and put it on the floor.

  We delivered matching shrugs, and then Delphine broke the stiff silence by saying, “Can we sit by the water?” And that, it seemed, was an idea all five of us could agree to, so we made our pilgrimage, Gyro in tow, to the dock, where we arrayed ourselves in an arc that was partially defensive on the part of Wally and Risa, and more than a little rigid thanks to Kevin’s stiff-backed presence between Risa and Delphine. It was, all in all, quite civilized, and slightly tinged with wariness.

  “I’m Delphine, Father, and it is my pleasure to see you today.” She extended a hand to the still shell-shocked priest who recaptured his sense of decorum and took her hand lightly. He smiled at her in wonder, and if he had been bolder, I think he may have pinched her arm to verify her presence among us. She read his thoughts and said with a laugh, “I assure you, I’m quite real.”

  Kevin’s shoulders lifted and fell with silent laughter, and he took a moment to drink it all in before responding in a kind voice. “And I can assure you that I believe that to be true, despite what my face may betray. Give me a minute, and I’ll regain my sense of reality.”

  Delphine inclined her head gracefully, and Risa began to bustle about with wine. I waved it off, intent on playing basketball without any freshly acquired inability to maintain my balance, but when I saw Kevin accept a glass, I held my hand out to Risa, who obliged me.

  Wally smiled with minor reservation at our circle and said to Kevin, “Father, you ask things first. We know Delphine, but you do not, and I think you have many, many questions to ask while I drink this excellent wine.”

  Put on the spot, Kevin hesitated, but only for an instant, and then asked Delphine, “Do you have a soul?”

  It was unexpected. Or perhaps, it was expected, because she answered him without pause. “I do. And I care very much for its resting place.”

  Kevin nodded to himself, apparently pleased with that answer. “There are . . . virtually limitless things I would ask you, but I’ll spare you an interrogation from a scholar whose world just went from flat to round. But, if it isn’t too obtrusive, could you tell me who you think Elizabeth is becoming, and give me your best guess as to her chances of succeeding at a transformation, for want of a better term?”

  I could appreciate that type of delayed gratification. Kevin’s curiosity must be at a fever pitch, but outwardly, he looked respectfully interested, yet still in control. Delphine assessed her answers and began to address them in order. She ticked off items on her hand as she spoke, methodical and intense.

  “First, Elizabeth is not the only person experiencing change; I think it should be obvious at this point that we all are.”

  “No shit. Ring looked like death after your last—”Risa interjected heatedly, then caught herself but continued anyway, “date, I guess. Suma gave him a powerful painkiller for his headache, but I think he would have shaken off your effects regardless. Once he was awake, he regained his overall health in a matter of minutes. Sorry, Father,” she added absently. He waved her off with a smile.

  Delphine looked at me curiously, and Wally interjected, “Were you sick, too, after a night with Ring?” Her question was directed pointedly at Delphine, who nodded sheepishly.

  “I felt unusual, yes, but by lunch I was returned to my previous state, and I concluded that Ring, and by extension, you two, Wally, Risa—all of you are becoming a bit less mortal, and therefore, harder to kill.” Delphine nearly blushed at this. It was surreal to see, given her history, but I was reminded that she was a human first, and immortal, second.

  “I do not like how you found this out, but I like being tougher,” Wally said, and flexed her arm muscles for show.

  “Badass, indeed,” I said, and poured her some more wine as a further apology for my night of sacrifice. I’m a team player all around; it’s just one of my numerous qualities. Risa read my mind and drew her finger across her neck in a universal gesture of doom. I let my smirk fade and returned to the matter at hand. “What’s the second point, Delphine?”

  She continued. “Yes, to the second and the most important issue in my estimation. This is also the least clear, but I believe that her chances of success are nearly zero.” That little ray of sunshine got our attention, but Delphine held up a finger to still our questions, and we let her go on uninterrupted. “Now, to clarify your third question, Kevin, and yes, you asked three; Elizabeth may very well transform far beyond her current form, but it won’t be enough to gain her what she wants. This is hardly her first attempt at supremacy, or advance rather, but her failures before have been spectacular, and there is an additional obstacle facing her this time that makes me think she is actually quite close to the end of her imaginary reign.”

  We were collectively thrilled and confused by this line of thinking, and Wally turned her hands palms up in an enormous shrug.

  “How is this true? She can be strong, and she can be something new, but we beat her? I do not understand.”

  That makes two of us, I thought. I couldn’t see an end game where this turned out well in which Elizabeth mutated, yet fell short of her goals. It was beyond me. And then Delphine gave voice to the option that I had not considered because I don’t think about losing, I only think about the cost of winning.

  “Oh, be assured, Elizabeth will change, there is nothing we can do to stop that fact, just as you are
altered by my proximity. I said that she will fail, and in a grand fashion, but I did not say that we would all be there to witness it. You see, in the plainest terms, to kill a demon of Elizabeth’s standing is going to require more than a simple investment of blood and some healing, followed by commiseration while we regain our strength. No,” and she shook her head vehemently, sending gold hair waving in denial of our fortunes, “killing Elizabeth will cost a life. Somehow, in some manner, a life must be paid, I think, in order to do the world a very great good. And I, for one, am willing to pay it, even it is mine.” She looked defiantly out over the water, and I knew that she was speaking of more than simple probabilities. She was speaking based on experiences as well as a history awash with loss. All of her perspective had sprung from the Elizabeth’s irresistible growth into whatever the thing was that we were now seeking to kill. I felt a pit yawn under my feet as a series of realities flashed past me, each one less palatable than the last.

  “Delphine,” Kevin began cautiously, “I sense that you have some idea of how Elizabeth can fail, but let me ask you, as our resident expert, what happens if she succeeds?”

  “She will swiftly move to consolidate power, and that will involve killing everyone sitting here,” Delphine said bluntly. “She will not tolerate any whisper of a former challenge, and make no mistake; Ring’s knife buried in her corporeal body was the most egregious action she has tolerated during my entire existence. Elizabeth does not allow mistakes. She punishes them, and we here are an error in judgment that her pride will not allow to continue past her ascension.”

  “Ascension?” Risa asked. “Would she reign or just carve out partial dominance?”

  Delphine chewed on that, clearly running through different outcomes. “Complete victory, I think, but perhaps not immediately. Remember, Elizabeth is planning over the horizon. She does not think like you do, not even like I do actually. Although we are both effectively immortal, I am not actively seeking the throne, so to speak, and in that, our goals diverge so completely that any comparison or supposition based on what I might do is pure speculation.”

  “But you feel that we can win?” I asked, still more than a little confused.

  “I do, Ring. I do because of what you three are capable of, and I know we can win due to what I am capable of. No disrespect intended, Kevin.” She tipped her glass at him in a gesture of acknowledgment that still managed to be sexually charged. Kevin noticed, and so did Wally, who narrowed her eyes, but only for a moment.

  Kevin raised an inquisitive finger and asked, “Delphine, am I correct in assuming that Elizabeth is not the only, er, immortal, vying for this control? Of whatever realm is being contested?” He stumbled over the term immortal, and understandably so, as it was anathema to everything he knew as a scholar, but in agreement with a spiritual understanding of his faith.

  “You are perceptive, and yes, you are correct. There are many, many usurpers at any time, but only the strongest and most amoral are capable of mounting a serious campaign. Simply stated, the discipline and investment required to do so is enormous, and many of the Undying think only of immediate gratification,” Delphine answered.

  That tickled a memory for me, something about rising tides, and I asked, “Two things are still escaping me. One, how does Elizabeth keep losing? And the second thing that troubles me, does the power she builds during these run-ups to an assault on whoever is in charge of the Undying, what happens to it? Does it fade, or does some of it remain with her? Or, worst case scenario, does she keep all of the power, like a talent that she doesn’t forget?”

  Delphine made to answer, but Kevin interrupted her with a gentle hand on her arm. “A point to add, if I may? Is there any resistance to these campaigns, for lack of a better term?”

  “Resistance? To Elizabeth?” Delphine asked.

  Kevin answered her, “I would find it unusual if the current hierarchy would allow someone as determined as Elizabeth to assault the castle, over and over, with no attempt at defense.”

  It was a legitimate concern, but the look on Delphine’s face bordered on anger until she regained her mannerly façade. She responded in a voice that was dangerously quiet. “And what, may I ask, do you think I have been doing for these three millennia?”

  Kevin was a stalwart. He didn’t shrink from Delphine calling us on underestimating her. In fact, we’d all completely missed the point, and she knew it.

  He said, “Let me expand my question then. Who else other than you has engaged Elizabeth over her forays, then?”

  Soothed by Kevin’s curiosity, Delphine held out her hands and began to tick imaginary combatants off, one by one. “Demons. Lords. Warriors of every shape and size. I’m fairly certain that Achilles and Patroclus thwarted her some seven centuries ago, although in truth, they may not have been doing so intentionally. Elizabeth made the grave error of enabling a mass invasion from the east, which just happened to threaten the sprawling estates Patroclus spent the better part of a century building, cultivating, and organizing. I visited once; it was as close to heaven on earth as is possible, a small area of beauty and peace.”

  “What did Elizabeth invite east?” Risa asked, with the curiosity of a born historian.

  “No less than the Golden Horde. They plunged west and south into Thrace, where Patroclus had created his minor kingdom during a rare instance of his choosing to settle down and establish a home. Never let it be said that Elizabeth doesn’t think in grand terms,” Delphine smiled thinly. The Mongol invasions had been enormous. As to what machinations had enabled Elizabeth to draw them to Thrace, I couldn’t begin to imagine, but simple greed might have been a key element.

  “What happened to the beautiful kingdom that they built?” Wally asked.

  “Ahh, that is a lesson for the ages,” Delphine began, with a wide grin. “The Mongol raiding parties were immense, small armies in comparison to the rest of the world’s concept of war, but Achilles had a tightly knit, highly skilled militia, who were also vintners and smiths in their spare time. Numbering nearly a thousand, they were elite, local, and most of all loyal force who were fighting using very unsavory tactics, all while in their own lands.”

  “The Myrmidons?” I asked, referencing the classical force under Achilles.

  Delphine shook her head, “I do not think they had a name, but they had a symbol on their chests, an engraved amphora with a curled hammer on either edge. It was more artwork than identification, very pretty. I’m sure Patroclus designed it. He’s a brilliant craftsman, but the end result of the Mongol raid was quite gruesome. When Achilles finished with them, there were no living members of the invaders, so their horses were sent back from whence they came with bulging sacks, filled with the heads of the officers Achilles personally slew on the field. I believe that a single foreign commander was spared, for what reason I cannot imagine since I have no doubt that Achilles’ blood was running hot that day. Perhaps he sent the vanquished general with a message, or maybe he felt sorrow at someone who had been so utterly crushed. Needless to say, despite whatever Elizabeth offered as rewards, the Golden Horde found the loss of several thousand elite cavalry incentive enough to look for low-hanging fruit in other directions.”

  Kevin whistled appreciatively, and we all toasted that bit of history. Achilles must be an even better commander than fighter, and that was rarified air, indeed.

  Kevin spoke up, asking, “Has Elizabeth ever been attacked by . . . beings, things, which are not human?”

  Delphine’s mood seemed diminished as she answered. “A host of them, in fact. Creatures I know nothing of and have heard nothing about since their defense against Elizabeth’s predations. The list is impressive, it is extensive, and it is utterly meaningless. You are here now, all of you, and the fact that she is willing to cultivate another long-term plot with you squarely in the middle tells me that, without a doubt, she regards you three as something worth her personal attentions, which seems only fair, since I think it is reasonable to assume she had a hand in
creating your team. Do you agree?”

  I knew that, at an instinctive level, it was true. Wally and Risa nodded along with me, and Delphine grimaced, not entirely pleased to be correct because that meant that beyond any doubt, she would be in on the fight that was coming.

  Wally asked sadly, “Is it too late to save the people she calls her Archangels?”

  Delphine answered slowly in a voice laden with regret. “It is. It was too late a decade ago, even a score of years perhaps, when she began grooming, perverting, and tormenting the poor souls she is using even as we speak. They cannot be saved, I am afraid, but we can spare them further torture, should we find them, and I think it is paramount that we locate them soon. The less influence she has over them, the less hatred and power she generates, it is all a part of her feeding from them, for lack of a better word. She will stand on the piles of their broken souls, their tears, and their blood, and she will reach for victory. She will grasp at the next rung of the ladder that leads straight to hell, and she will do it with rancorous delight.”

  Wally stood, holding the now-empty wine bottle, and announced, “Well, then we will stop her, but this time, we will not use the same knife. We must find a much sharper weapon, I think.”