Mythbound Trilogy Boxed Set

by Cory Barclay

  Is that what Mythics on Earth consider Mythicus? A relic of the past? A former life?

  “Then you know something must be done. If the Brethren of Soreltris utilizes the Parallel Reflector, who knows what they could do to Terrus. All we know is they’d send Mythics here—blackguards, hellraisers, Myth Hunters. I’m not sure if they’d come for conquest and invasion, or for cohabitation and breeding.”

  Steve’s eyes bulged. He’d never been explained what the Parallel Reflector meant for Earth. Scarlet, being the niece of the former Overseeress, clearly knew more about Mythicus than she’d let on. Steve felt a new appreciation and admiration for the succubus. With just those few sentences, he knew he could trust Scarlet. He knew he was right in placing his problems at her feet. She was more of a leader than she realized, and would probably make a fine Overseeress one day, if she wanted it.

  Steve knew that was a conversation for another time. Nersi had to be on stage in six minutes.

  “How can I help?” Nersi asked. “You know I will if I can.”

  Scarlet smiled sincerely. It was the first non-snooty smile Steve had ever seen from the succubus. It was almost like Scarlet looked up to the siren as an older sister or something.

  “If we can . . . if it’s in your power,” Scarlet said, hesitating. Then she powered on. “I’d like to use your Myth Maker. You have more connections on Terrus than anyone I know, Nersi.”

  Nersi took that without gloating. She rested her hands across the back of the couch and nodded, pursing her lips. She seemed to be calculating something. “How many are you?”

  “Five.”

  Nersi bared her teeth and sucked in air. “You know Myth Makers can’t control that kind of weight. I don’t care how powerful they are. It’s deadly.”

  Scarlet frowned.

  “She’s right,” Steve said from the corner of the room, drawing the eyes of both women. “I’ve seen a Myth Maker almost die from being Bound to too many souls.” He recalled when Aiden had been Seared to Mythicus, by Geddon. It had sucked the energy from Geddon. He’d seemed ten years older in an instant, because he already had the weight of others Bound to him.

  When no one commented on Steve’s warning, he said, “How about three people?”

  Nersi bobbed her head from side to side, weighing his words. “That’s the most I’ve seen work.”

  “Will you help us?” Scarlet asked, glancing at the clock above Nersi. She had less than three minutes to be on stage.

  Nersi stood from the couch. She grabbed a half-full bottle of vodka from the table and took a pull from it. She leaned forward and kissed Scarlet on the mouth again, then sashayed past her and Steve.

  “I’ll send in my friend,” she said. Then she disappeared into the other room, to the waiting cries of her rabid fans.

  “You mean he’s here? Your Myth Maker?” Steve called out, but received no response.

  Two minutes later, a girl walked in. She had spiky blue hair and gauged, pierced ears that drew Steve’s attention. He hadn’t noticed the pierced upper lip from earlier, either. She couldn’t have been more than twenty years old.

  It was Charlene, the girl who had warmed up the crowd before Nersi.

  In a quiet, soft voice, she said, “Miss Magdalin says you need my help.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Steve hadn’t expected such a young looking girl to have so much power among Mythics. But he’d seen plenty of strange things over the last few months. Charlene being an established Myth Maker barely made his eyebrows twitch.

  Charlene said she would Sear three people to Mythicus. She handed Scarlet a card. “I’ll give you a day to decide who you’re sending. Meet me at this location tomorrow at midnight.”

  “Why midnight?” Steve asked.

  Charlene shrugged. “It’s when my gig will be over.”

  “Do you play every night?”

  “Just about. Have to scrape by somehow. I’m not signed, so I don’t get the big bucks like Miss Magdalin. But I’m grateful she’s helping me out while she plays in town.”

  Steve nodded along to Charlene’s story. He didn’t like her music much, but his former training still kicked in. She had a good punk vibe, even though her music was slow and lethargic. “I’m sure there’s a way for you to make more money playing less shows,” he said.

  “Steve,” Scarlet said.

  “If there is, I don’t know it,” Charlene replied.

  Steve knew many of the booking agents and concert promoters around town. Or at least he used to. He knew the sleazeballs from the legit ones and thought he could point Charlene in the right direction. Though he doubted he had the same kind of pull he used to.

  “Steve,” Scarlet said again, touching his arm.

  Steve drummed his finger on his lips. He said to Charlene, “If you ever need any representation—”

  “Steve!”

  “What, woman?” Steve spun around. Scarlet was staring through the open door Nersi had gone through to get back to the main room. She pointed. Steve followed her finger.

  Through the crowd of dark bodies, a ruckus was underway. A few people were arguing near the back bar, presumably over a) spilled drinks, b) women, or c) who had the better view of Nersi on stage. A yellow spotlight was floating around the venue and lighting up faces every once in a while. When it landed near the bar, Steve saw a flash of orange, curly hair.

  Aiden was at the center of the conflict, yelling with his arms raised.

  Steve said over his shoulder, “Maybe we’ll talk about this when we see you tomorrow, Charlene. Thank you for your help.” Then he and Scarlet bolted out of the room.

  How have the bouncers not seen this fracas taking place?

  Steve squeezed through the tightly packed quarters and came to where the pushing and shoving was happening. Aiden was shouting incoherently, his voice drowned by the loud, sweet sound of Nersi’s guitar and voice.

  But heads were turning. The audience was annoyed an angry little leprechaun was disrupting their pleasant time.

  The man Aiden yelled at stood two heads taller than him. Dale and Shepherd stood behind Aiden. They seemed uninterested in the confrontation, their focus honed in on Nersi.

  Steve thought back to when he’d first met Aiden, at The Shack in La Jolla, where Aiden had gotten thrown down the stairs. Can this guy go anywhere without getting into a fight? Maybe he can’t handle his booze—he is a little guy. But he’s fucking Irish!

  Steve was about to ask what the problem was. Then, from the stage, Scarlet received a frown from Nersi—the universal sign that This Is Not Okay, and Shut That Guy Up.

  So, Steve made a decision. He didn’t feel like trying to deescalate the situation. He took a step forward and punched Aiden in the chest. The shocked leprechaun immediately doubled over and gasped for breath as he took a knee.

  Even the stranger who had been yelling at Aiden was caught by surprise at Steve’s sudden outburst.

  Aiden’s face was a mixture of confusion and anger. He looked up at Steve as he struggled to regain his breath. His face said perfectly what his words couldn’t: “Et tu, Brute? Even you would betray me?”

  Steve leaned forward and said in his ear, “That’s for letting Shepherd slug me in the bar earlier.” He thrust his finger at Aiden, viciously poking him in the shoulder. “You got it?” he yelled, trying to play his part. He turned to the big man who had confronted Aiden in the first place. “He won’t bother you anymore. Sorry.”

  “Yeah . . . thanks,” the guy muttered, then turned back to the music.

  One of the bouncers had shoved his way into the melee and stood behind Steve. It was Scarlet’s friend. He glanced at Scarlet and said, “What the hell, Scar, your friends can’t be starting—”

  “It’s no problem, Billy, we were just leaving,” she interrupted. “Weren’t we, gentlemen?”

  Steve and Aiden both nodded.

  Scarlet eyed Dale and waved his hand at Aiden. “Pick that up.”

  Dale hoisted Aiden up like
he was a pillow.

  “Hey, what the fuck!” Aiden screeched, bringing his fists down on Dale’s substantial back like an irate todler.

  The bouncer made a pathway for the quartet. They left the Casbah, with Aiden again being escorted out because he couldn’t get along with people.

  IT WAS ALMOST MIDNIGHT. The group had settled back at Shannon’s place.

  They went into the living room and took their respective spots. Aiden and Shepherd took separate couches, Dale had his loveseat, and Scarlet stood. This time, Steve also stood.

  Dale placed on the table the new twelve pack of Tecates they’d gotten on the way home. He broke open the box and divvied out beers, and déjà vu played in Steve’s mind.

  Steve decided to take the reins of the decision-making process. He was most familiar with Mythicus politics—at least recent Mythicus politics. Also, Aiden was too drunk to be much help. He’d had his weight in booze during the short time Steve and Scarlet spent talking to Nersi and Charlene. The shenanigans had erupted over Aiden trying to hit on the big dude’s girlfriend. Steve wasn’t surprised at all.

  Steve looked at the faces of his drunk compatriots. Besides him, only Scarlet seemed completely sober, though she wasn’t. The least drunk was a better estimation.

  Steve began his speech, which he’d been preparing during the ride back home. “Aiden, Shepherd, Scarlet, you three will go with Charlene, if you choose to accept this mission. I can’t guarantee your safety or promise anything, only that your support is apprec—”

  “Shut up, Steve,” Scarlet interjected. “You’re talking to three Mythics. We all know the dangers of our homeland.”

  Steve frowned. “You’ll do it then? And be Bound to that girl?”

  Aiden and Shepherd shrugged noncommittally. Shepherd wobbled in place, Aiden rested his head on the arm of the couch. Steve got the impression this important talk might be better saved for tomorrow. But, he also knew, if he could get them to say yes now, it would be harder for them to renege in the morning.

  It was a little bit of trickery, but he knew the liquid courage might help his cause. Tomorrow, the hangovers might hurt it.

  “She’s right, asshole,” Aiden muttered. “I knows Mythicus like the back of me knee.”

  Steve raised his eyebrows. He didn’t bother correcting Aiden on his flubbed phrase. He got the point.

  “And what about you?” Scarlet asked Steve.

  “I have an idea I’ve been cooking.”

  “Care to tell us what’s in the oven?”

  Steve hesitated. Then, he said, “I’m the only one who got the Parallel Reflector to work, right?”

  “Do you know how?” Scarlet asked.

  “Well, no . . .”

  “Then what makes you think you can get it to work again?”

  “That’s where my idea comes in,” Steve said, a bit annoyed at having to explain himself. He decided he didn’t want to. The less people knew what he was thinking, the better. Even though he trusted Scarlet, he’d also trusted Aiden and Geddon, in the past. They’d both betrayed him, in their own ways, so he was going to keep this one close to the chest.

  Plus, he didn’t know if his plan would work. He didn’t want to look like a fool if he failed.

  “I’ll get it to work,” he finally said, flapping his hand at Scarlet. “Have faith.”

  The succubus rolled her eyes.

  Steve cleared his throat. “Now that we have that out of the way—”

  “What about me?” Dale asked from the couch. He was already on his second beer from the twelve pack. The first one lay crumpled on the table alongside the beers from earlier that day.

  “What about you?” Steve said, slightly taken aback.

  “How am I going to get there?”

  Furrowing his brow, Steve said, “Fats, you’re . . . not.”

  That was clearly not the right thing to say to an inebriated giant. But instead of getting livid like Aiden might have, Dale simply looked crestfallen. It made Steve sad.

  Making his lips into a thin line, Dale said, “W-What? Who says?”

  Steve ran a hand through his hair. How do I explain this without making the big softy suicidal?

  “Dale, you, er . . . you aren’t connected to this, man. You don’t have any skin in the game.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Steve drew his eyebrows together and turned. “Aiden, why are you going back to Mythicus?”

  The drunk leprechaun’s eyes were closed, but he raised a finger. “It’s me home.” He raised a second finger. “You’re gonna need a bloke to bankroll your endeavors.” He raised a third finger. “Revenge, for Tetsuo.”

  Steve nodded. He’d never considered Aiden would bankroll their operation, but he appreciated hearing it. He hoped Aiden remembered that in the morning.

  “And you, Shepherd?”

  “Revenge, for my brother.”

  “Scarlet?” Steve asked.

  “Revenge, for my mother.”

  Steve threw his hands out wide. “See what I mean? I’m going to stop my megalomaniac father from starting a war he’d possibly never be able to stop, and to save the girl I love.”

  Dale squinted, as if trying to understand the words coming out of Steve’s mouth.

  Steve continued. “And you, Fats . . . you already have the girl you love. Here. On Earth. On Terrus.”

  The room fell quiet.

  Then Dale slurped his beer and broke the silence. “Nope.”

  Steve tilted his head. “Nope?”

  “I care about Bel, too, Steve-o. And you forget, if your dad starts a war, where will the battleground be?” Dale waited a moment before continuing. “The battle will be here, on Earth. So, in a way, me going with you to the fairy land will be my way of saving the planet. I’ll be like Captain America.”

  Scarlet scoffed. “More like The Thing.”

  Dale narrowed his eyes on the succubus. He said, “You get my point.”

  Steve hadn’t thought of it like that. In a way, Dale made sense. “But what about Shannon? I thought things were starting to go good between you two.”

  “Too good,” Dale said, shaking his head. “Too . . . routine. We could use a break.”

  “Does she think that?” Scarlet asked.

  “I’ll make her understand. You let me worry about that.”

  Steve was nodding. It would be nice to have his company over there. I mean, I get along with him better than I do with any of these Mythics. Aiden is conniving, Scarlet is kind of a bitch, and Shepherd I hardly even know. It would be nice to have a human by my side.

  Something else came to his mind. He was reluctant to say it, because he’d convinced himself that Dale tagging along would be a good idea. But, for his friend’s sake, he felt obligated.

  “Dale, remember what we were talking about in the car, on the way to the Casbah?”

  Dale leaned back in the couch and stared up at the ceiling. “Not really.”

  “About Michelangelo . . . helping you and Shannon.” He was trying to be delicate, since there were people around who didn’t know Dale and Shannon’s situation.

  That didn’t get the response he was hoping for, either. Dale shook his head and squinted, studying Steve. “You make it sound like he gave me Viagra or something, Steve-o. I promise you, my dick worked just fine long before Michelangelo showed up.”

  “Ugh,” Steve said, shaking his head. Fine. “Michelangelo brought you two together and your relationship is bound by him.”

  “So what?”

  Dale was good and truly drunk.

  “What if Searing to Mythicus breaks that bind? What if, when you return back here, Shannon doesn’t know you? You already told me you feared that might happen.”

  Dale’s mouth dropped open as he tried to come up with a reasonable response. His brain wasn’t working too quickly. He gulped and said, with little conviction, “If that happens, I’ll just have to woo her all over again.”

  Steve wasn’t convinced, but his job was done. H
e’d tried to talk Dale out of going.

  He gave up. “Fine, you stubborn oaf. You can come.”

  Dale’s face lit up. He looked like a kid in a candy shop—albeit a very drunk kid in a candy shop.

  “That makes all five of us,” Aiden said.

  Steve rethought his position. Now that Dale was coming along, things might not work the same. He looked at Aiden. “Change of plans. You’re coming with me, since we’ve already gone through the Parallel Reflector together. Maybe we can do it again. Dale, you go with Scarlet and Shepherd to get Seared by Charlene. Deal?”

  Everyone nodded. Everyone also looked very sleepy.

  “Good. I’m going to get some shuteye. We’ll reconvene in the morning.” Steve realized he wasn’t in his own house, so he simply sat down against a wall. He thought about Mythicus and the Parallel Reflector as he dozed off.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Steve realized he was a fly on the wall. Not literally, though that wouldn’t have shocked him too much. It wasn’t by accident, either. He’d gone to sleep at Shannon’s house thinking about Mythicus and the Parallel Reflector. In the past, when he’d held a gold coin belonging to Aiden before he slept, he’d dream-leaped to Aiden’s house.

  He was gaining control of his power. Part of that was bridging the gap between Terrus and Mythicus and Ethereus. He believed by focusing on a destination in Ethereus, he could leap there easier.

  It seemed to work.

  After the initial grogginess of dream-leaping wore off, he found he was in the dark, cold jail cell where he’d seen Geddon and Selestria earlier. Neither of them were in the cell this time.

  The iron door that had kept them imprisoned was ajar.

  He inhaled sharply to prepare himself, then walked out of the cell.

  Immediately upon exiting, he looked to his left and right. Blackguards stood at attention, facing outward. They stood as still as British Queen’s Guards, but instead of the black, fuzzy hats, they wore black, steel helmets. Neither of them noticed Steve, of course, because he wasn’t on the same plane as them. They were in Mythicus, where he hoped to find Geddon and Selestria, while he was in Ethereus.