“Don’t remind me. And don’t think you’re getting out of it either.” She wound the other faerie whip around her wrist above the first one and hid both underneath her sleeve. “We’re doing this,” she said, trying to convince herself.
“We’re doing this.” He nodded and smiled.
The plan was to get to Coleman Dock and find a seaworthy boat able to make it to Bremerton, somehow. Professor Hadley’s getaway cottage was there along with his journal. Chloe nodded back and tried to breathe. “Next?”
He smiled again, apparently admiring her determination and resilience. “This pendant is your lifeline. With it, you won’t even need these weapons. All the castes out there will read you as a royal. Don’t take it off, and by the Gods, please, don’t lose it. If you do, we’re probably dead.”
“What about you?”
“Well, I’ll be your guard, for one…” Bram’s sentence dropped off like he had more to say. If the theories Chloe had read were correct, the Fae couldn’t lie, at least not directly. But Bram was definitely holding something back. The more she learned about the real Bram Tice, the more she suspected he was holding back a lot of things.
“All these weapons you’re loading me up with. You sure I’m not your bodyguard?”
“Ha!” He laughed. “Oh, one more thing.” Bram’s hand hovered in the air in front of the ruby pendant.
Chloe looked down and watched feathery wisps of magic radiate out from Bram’s palm. Through the swirls of amber light, Chloe could actually make out glowing circular patterns and ancient symbols as they spun, floating through the air, towards her. As the swirls of amber light touched the pendant, the ruby resting against her chest turned into a deep black stone, to match Famke’s.
Bram lowered his head.
“I’ll take care of it,” she promised.
He nodded.
Chloe wondered how long he’d been in possession of a royal’s pendant, ten years, a hundred years, maybe more? And how he had obtained it? She also wondered who the royal was to whom it had belonged. That makes four. She made a mental note. Two Light, and two Dark? she wondered. It would make sense. More importantly, if a fae royal could be relieved of their pendant, that made them vulnerable, and if they were vulnerable, maybe they could be killed.
Bram kept his head down, looking at her bare feet as he loaded her up with a few more silver daggers, although they weren’t as elegant as the brass knuckle design tied into her jacket’s belt. “You need shoes. What size do you wear?”
Chloe was caught off guard by his random question. She thought back to the extreme shoes Famke and Avery had on. “I’m not wearing sky-high heels all the way to Coleman Dock. There’s no way. I can’t. I will fall and die.”
Bram looked at her shoes sitting by the bathroom door. “Well, your neon running shoes aren’t going to cut it. They’d definitely look suspicious and would probably give us away.”
Chloe tightened the belt of her trench coat in thanks for it being real. “Can’t you just glamour heels over my shoes or something?”
Bram shook his head. “Can’t take the risk of conjuring any and having them disappear. And I’d have to ward the apartment again as a precaution. Those were just temporary wards, and they’ve already faded. I’m not wasting more ingredients just for shoes. No. My neighbor will have what we need, and if she’s still alive, I need to say goodbye.”
4
Saying Goodbye
“Bram, oh thank God!” Bram’s neighbor ushered them into her apartment and quickly shut the door. He hugged the thirty-something brunette tight before helping her close a wall of metal hiding her front door.
Bram had, presumably, moved the dead body out of the hallway while Chloe had changed so she wouldn’t have to see it again. She was thankful for that, but the smell of decay lingered, reminding her of the carnage waiting for them outside the relative safety of Bram’s apartment building. The brunette must have been able to smell the decay too. She looked at Bram, wondering which of their neighbors had fallen prey to the scabs.
He silently waved off her questioning look.
Chloe’s heart sank as she watched the woman pick up a toddler that had asked to be held. She couldn’t fathom what kind of world the next generation was going to grow up in. Or if there was even going to be a next generation.
Chloe looked around and briefly gave a somber smile. The woman’s apartment had been retrofitted with the same iron as Bram’s, only it had all been painted a soft-white to look homier Chloe presumed. And there were others inside as well. A young family huddled in the dining room with two small children, two middle-aged men were in the kitchen, and an elderly couple was sitting in the living room. By the looks of them, some had been outside and borne witness to the horrors. Chloe gained a new respect for Bram just then, knowing he cared enough about his human neighbor to keep her and her baby safe.
“Jess, this is Chloe. Chloe this is Jessica and Sophie.”
“Hello.” Chloe felt strange saying the greeting from beneath her glamour. Even her voice wasn’t her own.
“Nice to meet you, Chloe.” Jessica said warmly, giving Bram a questioning look.
“Hi.” Little Sophie waved.
Bram handed Jessica the keys to his apartment and looked around the room. “How many?” he asked.
“Eleven,” Jessica stated.
“Divide the strongest between the apartments as best you can, but you and Sophie stay here. It’s safer.” He said the rest in a hushed voice. “They found me, and I don’t know if they’re still watching my apartment or when I’ll be back, but if you keep everyone to strict rations, it’ll last until the streets calm down. Only go out when the sun is highest and stay out of the darkest shadows. Scout the other apartments first for food and water, always in teams. You know where my weapons are and…”
“And we’ll be okay, Peter Bram.” Jessica cut him off. The strange name she’d called him seem to put his mind somewhat at ease. She looked at Bram in his suit and short hair and Chloe in her glamour just then. “You’re really going out there? You’re actually going to fight them?” Jessica asked. Chloe and Bram looked at each other. They knew she wasn’t referring merely to the lower caste of scabs but rather to the royals themselves.
“We have to try. If we don’t…” Bram didn’t finish his sentence. Chloe knew none of them wanted to think about what would happen in the weeks and months ahead, let alone say it out loud. No sun meant no crops, no crops meant no food, and no power meant no water or communications. Every country, every city, every pocket of life left was on their own.
“What do you need?” Jessica asked.
Just then, Sophie pointed down at Chloe’s feet. “Chooose, Momma,” the little girl said, happy with her observation.
“Shoes.” Chloe shrugged and nodded in agreement.
“Come with me.” Jessica led Chloe to her bedroom.
“Choose.” Sophie giggled.
“You’re not fae are you?” Jessica stated more matter-of-factly than a question. She placed Sophie on the bed to play while she searched the bottom of her closet.
“What? Oh...no.” Chloe was caught off guard and didn’t know what to say exactly. “Ah, human,” she finally responded, playing blocks with Sophie as her mom peeked out of the closet from time to time while digging through boxes.
“Ah. It’s just, you look exactly like one of the fae from the faerie tales Peter Bram used to tell me when I was a little girl.”
“Peter Bram?” Chloe asked.
“Oh, sorry. It’s the nickname I gave Bram when I was, gosh, six; I think it was. Has it really been that long? Anyway, to a six year old, he was magical, my very own Peter Pan,” Jessica said with awe. She was quiet for a moment, probably thinking back on a more innocent time. “He’d check in on me and my grannie when my mom had to work double shifts and tell us stories of magical lands and creatures you wouldn’t believe.” She scoffed as she reminisced, “He hasn’t aged a day in those thirty years either.”
/> Chloe’s eyes grew wide. Thirty years?
Jessica peered out of the closet again. “Glamour or not, I see the way you two look at each other, and the answer is no. He and I never…” She cleared her throat for Sophie’s sake, but Chloe got the message. “Bram’s been like a father to me since I was a little girl.” She went back to her search.
“I, uh…”
“You don’t have to say anything. It’s just an observation from someone who only wants the best for her Peter Pan. There’s a sparkle in his eyes that I’ve never seen before. You make him happy, Chloe, even in all this.” Jessica peered out and waved her hands in a circular motion all around them. “You make him happy.” She paused and stared at her wall of iron, listening to the howls that came from beyond. “But now the whole world, or whatever’s left of it, knows that fae are real. And some of them are truly monstrous, aren’t they?” Jessica was silent until she appeared from the closet again with a pair of knee-high black-leather boots.
Chloe was relieved when she saw the thick, sensible heel. “Thanks for this,” she said, tapping the rubber tread on the thick heel. “Boots are actually a good idea. I can hide a couple more W-E-A-P-O-N-S in these.” Chloe spelled out the word for Sophie’s sake.
“With the stories I’ve heard, a girl can never have too many of those.”
“Boose.” Sophie said and clapped her approval.
“That’s right, Sophie, boots.” Jessica sounded out the word for her daughter with an emphasis on the T sound. She smiled at the child with tears in her eyes and looked to Chloe after. “Go get the bastards who did this, Chloe, and take care of my Peter Bram.”
5
Greeting the Locals
“Bram?” Chloe whispered. It was so cold outside; she could see her breath against the thick amber sky. The scorched air had a metallic taste to it and smelled like rotting flesh. It was putrid, but breathable. She was thankful for that small concession. Still, Chloe felt like she was walking through Europe during the Black Death of the fourteenth century. Her nerves were on edge, and she shivered every time another scab appeared from out of nowhere. She wondered if she and Bram were going to make it all the way to Coleman Dock.
Chloe felt frozen down to her bones, and, yet, somehow her legs kept moving forward. The closer the scabs encircled her and Bram as they walked down the street, the more anxious she became. She felt like a caged animal as they swarmed. Most of the scabs cowered in the darkest shadows, but some dared to dart out nearby before scurrying back into the darkness. She thought Bram would’ve tried to find a car in working order, but it soon became obvious that a car ride would have been very short-lived. The roads had become bowling alleys of debris –everything from crashed and burned out vehicles to building rubble and bodies littered the roads every direction they had searched. The destruction and death was horrid to see, but the smell made it unbearable, a constant inescapable reminder of the cruelty the fae had rained down on them. It could have been worse, though. If it were the middle of summer, the stench would have been much, much worse.
Rotting food, backed up sewage, and the putrefaction of thousands of bodies mingled together in the frigid air, serving as a glaring reminder no one was coming to their rescue. The farther they walked away from Bram’s apartment, the larger the swarm of scabs grew. Chloe couldn’t breathe, and her body tensed. “Bram?” she fretted.
“It’ll be alright.” Bram’s voice was calm and quiet. “The glamours are working.”
“Mhmm.” Chloe mumbled through chattering teeth.
“If you walk with a bit more confidence, it may keep them at bay, intimidate them.”
“That’d be a lot easier if I wasn’t fucking freezing to death,” Chloe hissed.
“Right. Here.” Bram waved his hand in front of Chloe, and glowing, circular amber symbols swirled out from his palm and dissolved into her skin. “Sorry.”
Instantly, Chloe felt like she had been wrapped in an electric blanket set on high. “Woah. That is frigging amazing. Thank you.” She sighed, enjoying the little bit of comfort the heat gave her as the scabs continued to hover. “Aren’t you afraid of doing magic in front of them?”
“Nah, not now that we are glamoured and geared. For Famke, freshening up a glamour is the same as a human touching up their makeup.”
“Oh.” Chloe straightened her posture and began mimicking Avery’s arrogant strut and Famke’s saunter. “Better?” she asked, but noticed the scabs were still daring to draw close.
“Much.”
“Are you sure the roy…the others don’t know about Hadley’s cottage?” Chloe asked.
“Until you told me, I didn’t even know about it.” Bram seemed impressed by the late professor’s ability to keep a secret hideaway from him. “It was left to him by his half-sister, still under her second husband’s name before she remarried. Yeah, I’m sure they don’t know about it.” He chuckled and mumbled to himself. “Well done, Hadley.”
Chloe sniffled, but held her tears at bay. She wasn’t sure if they’d be hidden by her Famke glamour or not.
“Are you still cold?” Bram asked. There was gentleness in his voice, even though he looked like he could throw a semi-truck down the street.
“No. I just...I miss him,” Chloe admitted for the first time. With all the chaos following Hadley’s car accident, she hadn’t really had a minute to herself to mourn his death…or, rather, his murder.
“Me too,” Bram whispered, “me too.”
Warm under her upgraded glamour, Chloe kept up appearances and her sultry walk but noticed a new group of scabs moving even closer to them than the rest. This group seemed different than the others, larger builds, less frenzied, their movements more adept.
“Shit. I was afraid of this,” Bram said, offering Chloe his arm in a casual way that contradicted the worry in his words.
“What. What is it?” Chloe took his arm as they continued to walk.
Bram gently placed his warm hand over hers. It served to soothe her a little amidst the swarming scabs. “They want to pay tribute, mistress,” he said, reminding her of her role and the glamour surrounding her. “They may not be able to speak, but scabs communicate to higher castes in other ways, and we don’t want to draw any unwanted attention. Hold your hand out and brace yourself. You’re royalty, and the Dark merely want to kiss the hand of a royal who granted them this utopia. They’ll think it odd if we don’t let them pay homage in this way.”
“Are you serious?” she hissed in a hushed voice.
“Afraid so.”
The scabs were hideous and vile. They chose to wear human clothes, but they were wrinkled miss-matches crusted in blood and earth with shredded edges from constant in-fighting. Their features were a mix between human and wolf, as if their species paused in mid-transformation, stuck between the worlds of humans and lycans.
Chloe felt sick to her stomach, but she had a role to play and couldn’t risk exposing them or being discovered as a usurper. They needed her glamour to hold until they could, at least, reach Colman Dock and hotwire a boat to Bremerton –or however Bram planned to get them across Puget Sound. She just wanted to get the hell out of the city soaked in blood and death and away from the howls of pleasure from the scabs.
Chloe took a shallow breath and reluctantly held out her hand. Instantly, a scab rushed by to kiss it before scurrying back into the shadows. She was disgusted. The creature’s breath was foul, like a mixture of spoiled milk and raw meat left on a kitchen counter to rot. Her hand trembled slightly from the brief contact with its cold flesh, its texture reminding Chloe of something dead she might have dissected back in high school.
“Have they always been here?” Chloe whispered.
“Not in these numbers, but yes. I believe legends of them have inspired many a vampire and werewolf tales throughout your history. But the scorch has emboldened them to come out of the shadows permanently I’m afraid.”
“Do you think we’ll be safe at the professor’s from them?” she aske
d, holding out hope for some semblance of a safe haven at the end of the morbid parade she marched in.
“Knowing Hadley, it’s probably a fortress. At least, I hope it is,” Bram stated.
“Me too.” Chloe had dropped off research at the professor’s cottage a couple of years ago when he’d been sick but had never gone inside. The professor had even sworn her to secrecy regarding its location, laughing it off at the time to be worry over freshmen harassing him at his retreat in the hopes of getting better grades. Chloe now knew better and wondered if Hadley had been keeping its location secret from Bram in particular.
“We’ll make a slight detour for supplies, just to be safe, though. Besides, we can’t be outside when that hits.” Bram gestured in front of them. Far in the distance was what looked to be a wall of swirling sand. It had come out of nowhere; Chloe was sure of it. The storm was the color of dried blood and it was heading straight for them. It was as tall as a skyscraper and as wide as the city itself, engulfing everything in its path. Without waiting for her response, Bram led Chloe away from their direct route to the dock and headed straight for Pike Place Fish Market instead. She could barely believe it had been merely days ago when fresh fish had been tossed around in a skilled game of catch to entertain tourists at the world famous market.
Chloe couldn’t imagine what it looked like now, let alone hope for the possibility of finding any sort of supplies after the looting. But she knew Bram was right. The storm heading their way looked brutal, like nothing in its path would survive. “Um, I think the market’s probably closed, permanently.”
“Not the black market hidden within. It’s called a Spree, neutral ground just out of phase between Earth and Fae. There’s a witch there that has something of mine and she owes me a debt. She’ll also have the supplies we need.”
Relics and Runes Anthology Page 22