It was a warning call to those that could sense the supernatural realm. Heed these words or perish like the rest.
“Get out while you can.”
Lukas tried to stop dead in his tracks, but it proved too difficult for his wounded paws to muster. He vaulted through the air, spun in all directions, without a thought as to where he’d land. When Lukas did land on the ground he rolled down the slanted ground until he was forced upon a steep cliff that overlooked what should have been a thriving port town.
“That smell,” the wolf growled, “it’s the stench of flesh...”
It was a sight unimaginable to the misplaced, young werewolf. The fires of battle had left this town, but the chaos it brought saw the town ushered further into chaos. There were no cries for help down below. There was only the charred buildings that once housed many and the smoldered remains of the people that once lived there.
“Charleston, South Carolina,” said a turned Lukas as he looked to the billboard at the edge of town. “She guards our buildings, customs, and laws.”
There was no one left to guard Charleston’s buildings, customs, or laws any longer. There were no signs of the military to ease their pain. Only the cold of the night to see what was left of their town swept away into the darkness.
Lukas wondered what could have become of this city, but in truth it didn’t rightly matter. Not to him. There were many fates a city in the New World could fall. Most of them belonged to the monsters in the night and they were growing in number. No one was safe anyone, lest of all the monsters that stood against other monsters.
The werewolves back home wanted him to lead. His mother wanted him to lead. He wasn’t the leader they believed him to be. He wasn’t his father, and no matter how hard he tried, that man wasn’t within him.
Lukas couldn’t lead them into a war. Not when he didn’t know whom to fight; where the battle was to be fought, or what side of the line he should be on. His father walked a thin line with the other supernatural races, a line Lukas crossed many times, and one he couldn’t uphold any more. He would be his own pack master, not in his father’s image, not in the lady’s.
In the remains of Charleston Lukas saw what could’ve been Salem had his father not forged an alliance with human and witch. He wasn’t his father; he wasn’t even the brawny Kaleb Ramsey, but there were lives that counted on him. Some that didn’t know of him or his kind, others didn’t even know themselves. They counted on him nonetheless.
“It’s time,” Lukas said out loud with eyes locked on the scorched lands below. “I heard your warning, witches. Now I see your sorrow; and through my eyes your sisters to the north will, too. This I promise you.”
He turned from the chaos down below with his eyes ablaze in renewed determination. The undying hold Xenia had on him through the beyond was no more. It died in the fires that took more lives than she could ever know. All that remained now was a wolf on the hunt for those that would bring harm to his town.
Chapter Thirty One
Night Kings: Sisters of Salem
Gregory Blackman
The Goddess Bestows
Elsa’s entire world collapsed a few days ago. She discovered the truth of her nature, and while the whole of it still eluded her, the door had been opened. Never to be closed again. The human world left her behind with the burst of her luminous eyes. It was the supernatural world, a world full of monsters and demons, which she now called home. Yet here she stood, ready to embark on a new chapter in her life, guided by the one person she could still count on in both worlds.
She was assured the vale they walked was once a place of harmony. Gemma spoke of the many birds that would flock to her on arrival and the critters that would gather nearby. They would be unknowingly drawn to the circle of power located deep within its basin and the presence of those that protected its secrets. It was a lively place. Not anymore.
Now these hallowed grounds were tainted by the darkness that spread. None could identify the source of the corruption, and if anyone had, they didn’t speak a word of it. It was as if something or someone were sucking the life straight from the roots. That was Gemma’s belief. Elsa wasn’t sold on the notion.
First it was believed the lady in red cast a shroud upon the land. That vampire queen’s death would save the city from its dark hold. It was a belief that saw mortal enemies work as one and stem the tide against one of the world’s most powerful forces. It cost countless lives, but in the end, it was for a cause they all believed in.
Gemma swore the reaper’s death had played its role in these events. She couldn’t peace it together. But Gemma was convinced she would get to the truth, in time, and when that happened the sisters would be there.
Elsa wasn’t in agreement with the entirety of her logic, but whatever the truth was it needed to be stopped. If she was meant to play a part in this war then that’s what she would do. Not even fear of death could stop her, for until these last few days her entire life felt as if it were a waking dream. Elsa was awake now and she wouldn’t be so easily put back to sleep.
She sought any connection she could find to this supernatural world. To know the monster inside was to know thy true self. Those were the passing words of the newly crowned king in black before he slinked back into the shadows for relief. They were words she would see taken to heart.
“That’s when it started,” Gemma said with absolute certainty in her eyes. “The reaper was on to something and they silenced him. That has to be why. No easy feat, either. Reapers are feared by all for good reason. We find out who killed the reaper and we find out where this all began. I’m sure of it.”
“You have any idea who might’ve killed him?” Elsa asked.
“Fuck no,” Gemma blurted out. She stopped abruptly when she realized her crassness and looked to her friend for forgiveness.
Elsa’s response was to extend her tongue in vulgarity that saw the two of them break out into laughter. After all the lies she’d been told in her life a little candor was a pleasant surprise; and so too, a welcome way to pass the time in this most dreary of places.
“It could be anyone,” Gemma said. “You know how I feel about Salem, El. Everyone in this town is creepy as shit.”
“If everyone in Salem is creepy as shit,” said Elsa, now leaned in with inquisitive eyes aflutter, “what would that make us?”
“The best of a bad lot,” Gemma answered.
Ever since Elsa first awoke to the supernatural world she’d felt alien to her homeland. Tonight, for the first time, she felt normal, as if her life could somehow remain a fraction of what it once was.
There was a dire air to the land she never noticed before that night. She could feel the death of the land, the decay of nature. Elsa wanted to believe her awakening was of fortunate chance. That she was destined for some grand purpose. It was a fool’s notion, but it was the only thing she had to cling on to.
Elsa couldn’t speak to Lukas. He hadn’t been seen in days. The man in black was no use, and even if he was, she wouldn’t dare risk the trek to Blackrose Manor. Could she lean on her father?
Victor was always a man of many troubles. Zoning restrictions and border disputes often accompanied him home from the office and put in place an insurmountable stack of paperwork that parted father and daughter. These last few weeks saw a new side to the man Elsa hardly knew. His nature had become as dark as the forests in which she now walked. He was brooding, distant, and far too preoccupied with himself to notice a change in his daughter.
She was afraid to reveal her nature to him, but also to the rest of the world outside. She hadn’t spoken a word to anyone outside her home, save the one friend she could still count on to answer her calls. So she accepted Gemma’s invitation tonight. She was guaranteed the time was right; that old grievances had been shelved for the time being and she’d be safe to walk the forests at night. The dark ones would not come out to haunt them tonight.
“You need to be mindful of your words,” Gemma whispered as
she slowed her advance. “Not since the trials that wronged us in the past has an outsider been welcome in our sacred realm.”
“Then why me?” asked Elsa, humbled by the honor they’d bestowed. “Why break tradition for me?”
Gemma stopped unexpectedly in the center of a small grove. She reached out to place warm, friendly hands on the girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders, and said, “Because you’re a friend in need.”
Gemma waved her hand in the air and whispered an incantation, but her words weren’t for Elsa. They were for the lands that surround. A portal opened in front of them and showed a land inside untouched by the darkness that gripped their forest.
“And this would be?” Elsa asked, nervously.
A yawning smile spread across Gemma’s face. She didn’t know if he friend would rightly believe her, but she knew there could be no other way. Elsa wanted the truth and she’d promised to give it. To the Sisters of Salem their word was all they had, both in this world and the next. Gemma would see her friendship with Elsa honored by that truth. She would need to choose her words wisely then. Not everything could be revealed.
“It’s a tear in the fabric of space and time,” Gemma said without a quiver in her lip, “a bridge between dimensions that can only be opened by one from our sisterhood. There are many places our worlds connect, but only two pillars in which we can pass from one world to the next. Or at least, there used to be.”
“What happened to the other?” Elsa asked.
Gemma put as strong a face she could when it came to her own troubles. She was always the one to look to in times of need, but when it came to her people there wasn’t much room for a soft heart. No words were said as she moved through the portal, only the implicit agreement that her friend would follow into the unknown.
“I… I,” stammered Elsa as she stepped from one world to the other, “I wasn’t expecting it to be quite so easy… or so beautiful.”
From a young age Gemma Kohl would come to this place and stand in awe of its innate beauty. It was a place of peace and worship, untouched by the hand of man, and forever to stay that way as long as the goddess that reigned here allowed. She almost forgot what it could be like to witness it through untrained eyes. Still, she said little to avoid having said too much.
“Where are we?” Elsa asked. It was an innocent enough question, but one with many answers, none simple to tell. “In space and time, I mean.”
“This realm belongs to the goddess,” said Gemma without hesitation in her voice. “She came to our world through the pillar we just passed and bestowed a chosen few with the power to defend themselves against the monsters of the night.”
“Where is she?” Elsa asked.
“None know,” Gemma replied with her head sunken low. “Legend speaks of a timeless conflict with the moon gods of the next realm. She wasn’t there for us during the last culling. We don’t expect her to be there for this one.”
Elsa waited for more information to be given, but it quickly became apparent that there was no more to be had. She came to accept Gemma’s silence for what it was and joined her friend’s side on route to wherever they headed.
They passed through forests of yew, all aligned into columns of equal space and footing, as if each stump had been gently put into place by the goddess that watched from above.
A white sycamore stood at the end of their journey, and around that tree, dozens of hooded figures. They were covered in brown garbs meant to conceal their identity and bring them closer to the nameless society in which they were born. There were no names among them. Only veiled faces that stayed locked on the newest arrival to their most hallowed of grounds.
“You’re welcome here,” Gemma said as they approached, “but still the sisters cannot easily reveal themselves to an outsider of the circle. I hope you understand.”
If there was anything in this world Elsa Dukane understood it was the need to protect oneself from the monsters that preyed. She nodded in agreement and moved to join Gemma in front of the sycamore tree.
Gemma’s high priestess was there to greet them, face shrouded no different than the rest of her sisters. Her only identifying feature was the gnarled crown made of wood that sat atop her masked head, the crowning mark of the high priestess.
Before Elsa could take hold of the woman’s extended hand, one of the sisters stepped forward, out of the circle, and moved in a straight line towards her.
“She should not be here,” the sister said. “She’s an outsider and doesn’t belong!”
Gemma looked back at the high priestess with angry, hurt eyes. “You promised me…”
“I did,” their leader confirmed with the nod of her head. “Elsa, I must apologize for my sister’s quick tongue.”
“No,” said Elsa, “it’s all right. My mother always told me that if you can’t say the things you mean, you can never really mean anything you say. I’m an outsider. No one needs to pretend otherwise. I’ve been an outsider my entire life. I never knew why most of the kids wouldn’t come near me in class, never understood the mistrust in their eyes. It was because they knew something I didn’t. I wasn’t one of them.”
“I didn’t know the reason for their stares,” she continued while the others listened intently. “Then the Wendish fields burned and I began to understand. You call me outsider. That’s okay. It’s a badge I wear with honor. You don’t want me here. That’s okay, too. I won’t be here long.”
The sister looked to her high priestess for assistance, but found none. Without the aid of her high priestess there was nothing to be done, nothing to be gained by further defiance. With her head cast into her robes the woman turned on her heels and headed for her place in the circle.
“Your mother was a wise woman,” said the high priestess. She threw back her hood to reveal herself to Elsa and show that she had more than just one friend in this forest. “My name is Cetra Altaras and I’ve been your friend since you were but a baby in your mother’s arms. You’re no outsider here, Elsa. You’re among friends.”
It should’ve been a shock to the young woman, but it was another piece of the puzzle for here and it seemed to fit rightly in its place.
“We were all touched by her life and saddened by her death,” Cetra said with a distinct sadness in her eyes. “With every year that passes you take on her image more and more. It was a pleasure to have known her, but it is a gift to know you. Come, let us leave one circle and find comfort in another.”
Elsa knew her mother had connections within the city. She could never imagine her interests were vested so deep in the supernatural community. Did her mother know what Cetra and her sisters were? And more importantly, did her mother know what she would become?
“Is that why she took her life?” Elsa wondered quietly to herself. She circled around for a few moments, tried to come to understand where she was after this latest revelation. All eyes were on her, and her alone, watching, judging, and waiting for the monster to be revealed. All of them save for one.
“This way,” said Gemma as she took Elsa by hand; and with a pump of that hand Gemma led her friend away from the others. “You’re doing great.”
Her words rang hollow to a young monster swept up in the loss of her mother. Elsa nodded politely and plodded along behind, as she was told, absent mind and heart.
The three of them moved in the direction of the pillar they used to enter this world. If Elsa had taken a moment to think about things she would’ve realized they walked the same path that brought her to the circle. Only, where there once stood a hundred trees all lined in a row there was now a wide open grove.
There were precisely three chairs in the center, all made from in twisted vines that formed a smaller circle within itself. Elsa was guided to one of these chairs; Gemma Kohl to her left, and the mysterious Cetra Altaras to her right. She sat down, oblivious to the world she left behind and the world in which she now resided.
“Elsa of the Dukane clan,” Cetra said with the snap
of her fingers. “You will come back to us.”
Her words cut straight through Elsa and brought her to attention. She straightened her back, took a deep breath, and listened to the words the high priestess had to speak. She was here for a reason and that reason sat before her.
“You come to the world anew,” said Cetra, her voice reaching out to the mind of Elsa Dukane. “You were reborn in the fires that became you that night. Reborn in the image you were always meant to be. Your world hasn’t change. It spins on as it ever did. All you need is to slow down and take a look.”
Cetra raised her hands in Elsa’s direction. They hovered in mid air, seemingly through no power of her own, palms locked on the young woman’s chest cavity
“What are you doing?” Elsa asked.
But the high priestess would not answer.
“What is she doing?” Elsa asked, this time her question directed to Gemma Kohl. Still no answer was given. Not until the hands of Cetra Altaras lowered in deference.
Words could not express what Cetra saw in the mind of one so young. The high priestess saw nothing, but at the same time she saw everything that needed to be seen.
Elsa Dukane held an ancient spirit within her, powerful, dangerous, and a mystery to all those that have ever looked before. No answers would be learned from a search within. Only more questions.
“I was trying to read your thoughts,” said Cetra, humbled by recent developments, “with hopes of uncovering knowledge not even you possess.”
“Trying?” Elsa knew she was on thin ground. She could see it in the eyes of the high priestess. Still, there was little that could quell the inquisitive nature of her spirit. “You didn’t finish?”
“I cannot read you,” Cetra said. “Not today. Not tomorrow. The answers you seek are there, but they are for you alone to discover.”
Night Kings: The Complete Anthology Page 14