by Ana Mardoll
I spit at the ground between us. "Come and get me," I challenge. "Do you know how many of you I've killed? I can fit another notch on my belt."
He hesitates. His gaze flicks to his father as the ravening creature of earth and vine continues to sweep a path of chaos through the crowded gym, lunging for altereds and snapping at them with jagged stone teeth as large as my head. There is a strong sense that the creature has no interest in parsing friend from foe at the moment. I remember what Hermit said about these monsters eating their children, and one look at the Fiery Lord's face tells me he's well aware of that possibility.
His eyes snap back to me and his fingers drum faster, a blur of motion too fast for my gaze to follow. "I don't think you'd fit in with my household, little flower," he decides, eyes narrowing. Electricity gathers around him, hot and dangerous, and with a crackling flash of light he blinks out of existence, taking his color with him back to the otherworld.
Chapter 25
Two faeries are gone, but the worst one remains. I watch the chaos with wide eyes as the stench of the High King's blood clings to me.
Over a dozen fighters have surged forward to challenge the lumbering creature. The monster hurls himself repeatedly into the fray, bowling over warriors with his powerful tree-trunk legs. One of the warriors, a red-haired woman whose name I don't know, leaps forward to stab him in the foreleg with a wicked curved knife. The creature turns to snap at her with his jagged stone teeth, gouging out a chunk of flesh from her shoulder. She falls to the gymnasium floor, bleeding profusely from the deep wound.
Other altereds reach to pull her out of immediate danger, to draw her back to the group of non-combatants huddled in the safety of the northern offices. But before they can grab her, long vines shoot out from the creature's back to wrap around her like hungry tentacles, and she is dragged screaming into the mass of writhing foliage on the monster's broad back. There's a moment when I can see her face, twisted with pain; then she disappears into the lush greenery with a sickening sucking sound.
"What do we do?" Jing crouches nervously beside me, the translucent girl almost invisible in the gray light. "The portal edges outside are closed. That means we're trapped here, aren't we?"
Athena has not bothered to crouch or hide or make herself appear smaller in any way. "You'd think Celia could collapse the portal," she complains. "Maybe that creature is blocking her. Though I suppose she might not want him running loose earthside. Assuming we emerge earthside, of course."
"Celia! Where is she?" I crane my neck, my eyes straining to pick her out of the crowd. She's limping on the outskirts of the fray, pulling back her bowstring for another shot. Her arrows are embedded in the head of the creature, sticking out where eyes and ears should be; yet her attacks haven't slowed him down. "She can't have more than a couple arrows left," I breathe.
"And the ones she's shot aren't doing any good," Lavender adds, the air around her twisting with a fresh burst of sour fear.
Athena considers the creature with her contemptuous gaze, crossing her arms over her chest. "He's very invasive, isn't he?" she observes. "Shall we call him Kudzu?"
Clarent helps me up, steadying me gently with his strong arms. "How are we going to stop him?" he asks, his voice low. "I'm metal. Maybe I could break his teeth? If I could convince him to bite me—"
There's a furious shout from our left. I swivel my head in time to see Dakota rush forward, his glowing skin brighter than ever. He snatches up a folding chair in his hands and slams the flattened makeshift weapon into the creature's gaping maw. The chair bounces off with a sickening clang, the stone teeth unharmed and unchipped. Angrily, the creature makes a retaliating swipe with his huge paw.
Dakota is saved from what would have been a bone-shattering blow by Elric's quick dive, bringing Dakota to the ground. The two men tumble and roll, the massive arm of the faery passing mere inches over them. I hear Elric shouting something incoherent—no doubt derogatory—as they scrabble back to relative safety, away from the worst of the fray.
"I don't think that's going to work," Lavender says flatly.
"But—"
"Clarent," I touch his arm gently, "you were created to be melted and molded. I don't think you're hard enough to break stone."
"Kudzu certainly seems hungry. Did anyone bring any cyanide?" Athena asks, her voice suggesting that to do so would be the most normal thing in the world. "My cupcake is already spoken for but, Rose, you could give up yours for the benefit of the group."
I turn to stare at her, blinking as the idea takes root. Lavender grasps my arm hard. "No," she says, shaking her head at me. "No, Rose."
I reach up to touch her face, my breath coming in short gasps. "Lavs, this is what I was made for. This is what I'm supposed to do."
"It won't work!" Angry tears prick her green eyes, spilling over her cheeks and the tiny dusting of freckles. "You know it won't work. It barely worked on Clarent's faery, and you're drained now. You said yourself you need a week to recharge."
I bite the inside of my lip and then whirl to face Clarent, who watches us with grave eyes. "You can make me stronger." My hand darts out to his wrist. "You said earlier that you understand the pattern of my magic. You can make me more lethal; you can give me power!"
My breath catches. I hear Hermit's voice in my head again, haughty and annoyed. To actually give you magic would require losing some of ours. I twist to see the High King where he fell in the ashen circle, but the body is gone. His companion, the Fiery Lord, must have taken it—to bury, or to feed on? And when Kieran cut off the creature's arm, the faery had said he would have to eat it later. Does he want the limb for its meat or its magic?
"Rose?" Clarent's voice, confused and concerned, cuts through my thoughts.
"The arm!" I grasp his wrist harder. "Where is it? We can use it!" I turn to look. "There!" The pale plastic-textured limb lies not far from the battle, though too close for comfort. "How can we get it?"
Jing swallows hard, her fingers fluttering nervously against her jeans. "I can get it," she whispers. "I can't do much but I can do this." Before I can stop her, to my utter astonishment the translucent girl fades completely away.
"Jing!" I look around wildly, failing to see her anywhere in the chaos.
"I should have asked her to bring my cupcake, too," Athena muses.
I turn my head to stare unblinking at the limb where it lies, wincing whenever the combatants come close. Suddenly it too disappears into thin air. A long moment spins out in silence as we wait, every second seeming longer than the last. A burst of gunshot echoes through the gym as one of the fighters opens fire on the creature; my heart squeezes with fresh fear.
"If they can't see her, they won't know to be careful," I breathe.
"That's true," Athena observes, frowning deeply. "We should have used hooks and fishing line."
There's a roar from the creature, and I twist my head to see a burly giant of a man snatched up in those stone teeth and flung like a rag doll across the room. He collides with something invisible in the empty air, dropping to the ground with a grunt and sliding some way further. At the same time, there is a sharp yelp of pain and the disembodied limb of the Elder Fae materializes several feet away from the fallen warrior.
"If she's wounded while she's invisible, how will we find her?" Clarent asks, his worried gaze turning to meet mine.
"She's still tangible," I breathe, bracing my feet to run. "Maybe I can find her, maybe I can trip over her—"
Lavender grabs my arm. "Wait! There! Look!"
My gaze follows Lavender's pointed finger. Mina stands in the low hallway to the northern offices, a knot of altereds behind her. The area is sheltered from the giant creature, too low and too narrow for him to reach. While the warriors distract him, Mina gestures and four of her group dart out to grab the wounded man and drag him away from the fighting. They're keeping anyone else from being eaten, I realize.
"But where's Jing?" Clarent asks.
"Watch the
floor," Lavender hisses, and only then do I see the tiny drops of blood coating the slick gymnasium floor, dripping ever closer to us. The limb disappears again, invisible and retrieved, and then she's close enough for us to hear her: a chorus of little "no! no! no!" yelps that hop around the rescuers, trying not to be touched.
As she draws closer to us, I unthinkingly reach out with my hands to steady her, but the blood quickly changes direction to avoid me. "I'm fine," Jing's voice whispers from my left side, a little breathless. "It just grazed me." Slowly, like a drop of ink spreading through water, both limb and girl materialize before us. "It's heavy," she warns, handing over the arm without making contact with my own skin. "Heavier than it ought to be."
My held breath is exhaled in sharp relief. "You did it! Thank you, Jing," I gasp, clutching the severed arm as I anxiously look her over. She's bleeding from a gash on her forehead and numerous scrapes on her hands and knees; the wounds look painful but not serious. "Athena, can you bandage a head wound?"
I turn to face Clarent again, hating myself for ignoring Jing but aware that every second counts. "You can use the magic in this," I urge, thrusting the arm into his hands. "Make me stronger, make my virus deadlier. Pack as much power into me as you can. Hermit said it's possible and you understand how to do it, don't you?"
Lavender's nails grip my wrist in panic. "Rose, you are not going to sacrifice yourself," she whispers. "Please! If you care about me, you won't do this!"
Clarent looks equally miserable, his eyes misting with soft silver tears like melted solder. "I don't think I can," he says, his voice cracking.
I can't fall apart now, I think, blinking back tears. My hands reach up to touch them both, cradling our three heads together. My forehead touches Clarent's, and I press Lavender close against my cheek. "Listen," I beg softly. "Nothing else has so much as touched him; not Kieran's blade nor Celia's arrows. But if you can make me strong enough to kill him, I'll survive and we'll all go home." I search Clarent's eyes. "I've always survived before, haven't I? This is just the same."
"You've always kissed people before!" Lavender explodes in a choked whisper. "This time, you want to be eaten. It's not the same thing, Rose!"
"Lavs, look at me." I know I'm not being fair to her, but the alternative is to let more of us die. "I'm going up there one way or another. Clarent, do whatever you can to make it more likely for me to survive, but I'm going up there all the same."
He studies my face for a long moment and then nods slowly, his expression grave. Lavender sputters once, frustrated and angry, before falling silent. Clarent reaches for my wrist with his free hand and frowns with intense concentration.
When Clarent had studied the web of my magic before, I hadn't felt anything. Even when he'd begun trying to alter me back to a normal human, the only clue I'd had were the changes my eyes reported in the world around me.
Now whatever he is doing hurts and I grit my teeth against the unexpected agony. A sensation of heavy liquid in my veins pushes up from where he grips my wrist, traveling through my arm to my head where a burst of strange babble erupts; voices I can't separate spill rapid words I don't understand. Are those voices mine? Or did they come from the dead limb whose magic is being scavenged? What had Hermit said about their parents giving them memories?
The pain sharpens into a new sensation I can't push away, but it no longer hurts. I still don't 'see' magic the way Clarent seems to, but I can feel it in me now, like tiny individual points of light traveling to my extremities. Magic pools in the tips of my fingers, waiting to reach out and coax others to accept me. A deadly virus gathers eagerly at my lips, ready to leap off and infect. Something in the frenzied babble of my mind makes me think I might now be able to will the virus to infect or not as I choose, if only I can focus.
My concentration is broken by a soft gasp. Jing takes a nervous step back from me. "Rose, your eyes are almost glowing," she murmurs. I look down at myself and realize that my green veins are thicker and darker against my skin. The lock of pink hair draped over my shoulder is darker, too; a richer, redder rose.
"How do you feel?" Lavender whispers at my side, studying me with worried eyes.
"I love you," I tell her, reaching up to touch her cheek again. I can feel magic drip from my fingers into her skin; it tells her that I'm a sweet girl, loving and kind and gentle. It's what she already believes fed back to her in a loop, and I only hope it isn't a lie. Quickly I draw my fingers back; I can't afford to waste a drop.
"Don't say things like that," she chokes, fresh tears falling. "It sounds like you're saying goodbye."
"I'll be right back," I promise, shaking my head. "I just need you to know. You're brave and strong and you gave me hope when I hadn't even realized I'd lost it." I wrap her in a tight hug, careful to keep my fingers away from her, and gesture with my wrist to pull Clarent close. "Take care of each other," I whisper.
"Rose, please come back to us," Clarent begs, his voice soft in my ear.
I nod and duck quickly away from them before my tears can spill, sliding through metal arms and soft skin, running as fast I can towards the melee. I scoop up an abandoned knife from the floor; the curved angle of the blade tells me it belonged to the red-haired woman I saw absorbed by the monster earlier. How appropriate.
I have to get close enough to be eaten as quickly as possible; if I'm wounded and tossed aside, Mina's crew will pull me away and I'll never get another chance. I launch myself in a leap I didn't know I was capable of, the dagger in my hand slamming inexpertly into the creature's shoulder.
"Rose, what the fuck are you doing!"
Elric's shout is cut short by an angry roar. I cling to the monster's arm, holding on as firmly as possible to the knife I've managed to embed into his flesh. "Eat me," I spit up into his face. I spread my fingers wide and jam them into the foliage of his shoulder, seeking the site of the wound I've opened. Magic flows through me, telling him I'm sweet and good to the taste, full of magic to satisfy his hunger.
Sharp stone teeth as big as my head close on my shoulder, ripping a scream from my throat. Red blood gushes from my wound, mingling with that of the High King on my dress. The shock of pain is enough to make me release the knife, but I don't fall; the teeth hold me in midair. I can hear shouts below—"Let go of her!" and "You bastard!"—but the creature ignores them like so many ants. Tentacles reach out to wrap around my waist and chest, constricting me like a snake.
There's an unexpected flash of steel beside me. Kieran, to whom I will try to be grateful if I manage to survive, has scaled the side of the creature's enormous leg and is hacking away with his blade at the vines that hold me captive.
"No! Get back!" I yell at him. I'm trying to sound like I know what I'm doing, well aware that dangling in the air like a chew-toy, gushing blood, is not the best vantage point from which to project an illusion of confidence.
"You're not a fighter, you little fool," he growls, hacking at another thick tentacle. "I'll get you down and then—"
I don't hear the rest of his plan. The monster growls again, a thick angry sound deep in his throat. His free foreleg comes up and around to brush off the interloper, as easily and with as much force as if he were a spider clinging to a human arm. I hear Kieran hit the ground hard, the crack of bones punctuating his fall. I have only a moment to pray that I haven't gotten him killed before new vines shoot out to replace the cut ones and wrap tightly around me.
The creature opens his mouth, drawing fresh gouts of blood from my mangled shoulder as his teeth pull away. Still I do not fall; instead I'm carried by the vines to his back, settling me against a bed of strangely soft moss that sucks me in like quicksand. There are other bodies here: three desiccated skeletons and the corpse of the red-haired woman, her skin as dry and stretched as a mummy. I feel a moment of panic on seeing the corpses, not relieved by the heady rush of blood loss. Live or die, however, this is what I came here for. I writhe in my restraints—not to get away but to get access. I'm able to wrestle m
y good arm free and I claw at the creature with my nails, opening a slit to press my lips against.
When I touch my skin to the loamy earth of his back I can feel the virus flowing from me into him. Tiny points of light rush through my body, stampeding to reach my lips, each drop binding to the thick white carrier fluid that seeps eagerly into his monstrous flesh. I should be afraid that this won't work, as I was with the hunter and later with Clarent's faery. Yet I can feel my magic, and can hear the excited babble in my mind as the virus flows. I know now how powerful I am. There are so many things I can't do, but I know how to infect this monster. I keep my eyes wide open, mere inches from where my lips stubbornly press, and I watch him weaken. Soft earth dries and cracks like parched summer dirt. A thick fissure opens under me, seeping black oil, and still my virus spreads.
There's a shout from below, different from the angry battle-cries I heard before; it sounds like a warning. The creature beneath me staggers, his movements woozy and uncertain. His black blood bubbles up to mingle with the red that still drips from my mangled shoulder, and I watch the colorful mixture as my vision blurs. I realize I've lost so much blood that we may die together, he and I.
Will they bury us in the same hole? No, why would I think that? Celia will send him back, as she did the hunter. Bodies left to rot in the otherworld don't need to be justified to nosy earthside authorities. But she won't send me back, will she? Surely Lavender wouldn't let her. We worked so hard to escape that it would seem wrong to go back.
The world crashes around me with a shuddering blow that rattles my teeth. It takes a long hazy moment before I comprehend that the creature has collapsed to the ground. Then there are hands on me, ripping away dried vines that crackle into dust. I'm being lifted. Who is lifting me? A dirty blood-caked face looks down at me, his expression twisted with annoyance and pain. Kieran. "I'm so glad you and Elric have each other," I murmur up to him.