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by Rue Allyn


  Grimacing against the agony of regenerating bones, he stood, shaking off the pain. As a warrior, he was accustomed to it. Thousands of years of war were required of a soldier before they were trusted enough to become a Knight of the Fog. After all, only those who waged the best war could keep the peace.

  Standing atop the so-called Alcatraz, he tried to figure out his best course of action. Quickly deciding to inspect the local population for infection, he leapt from the roof in a graceful swoop.

  Sabin’s heavy boots landed on the cement and the people screamed and jumped away—the hysteria. They have indeed been infected. His eyes filled with icy rage.

  The people around him scattered like fearful little ants. The humans on this plane were indeed somewhat puny and frightful creatures. Sabin was overwhelmed with chaotic, frenzied voices.

  “Is it a convict?”

  “Is it a show?”

  “Look at his eyes, he’s meant to be a ghost of Alcatraz!”

  Ghost of Alcatraz? These people must be more crazed than I thought. Sabin was disgusted by the humans, so gullible, so easily infected. But as a Knight of the Fog, he knew that he must not disturb their existence, but preserve it.

  Speaking for the first time in English, he enunciated carefully. “Yes, I am part of the show.” He cleared his throat and spoke to the crowd as his height towered above them.

  An infidel spoke out. “Which inmate are you supposed to be?” There were more murmured voices, mostly from women.

  “God, he’s huge.”

  And from another, “He’s a gorgeous hunk of man, isn’t he? Models are so tall.”

  “Look at his muscles.”

  Suddenly he became aware of the fact that humans in the earthly realm were much more clothed. He wore only leather pants and combat boots, with thick astral artillery belts and guns strapped across his chest and slung across his hips. Losing his patience, he spoke again in a commanding voice. “There has been an escape. Has anybody noticed a dark spirit?”

  Sabin was met only with the excited murmurs of the crowd. A tall, gangly man with glasses poked his head from around a door. “Are you new here? I don’t think I’ve met you. You know, there’s not supposed to be any appearances until later tonight. I didn’t realize that there was a new show.”

  Surveying the small island, Sabin pondered which of the two closest land masses to swim to. One way, there was a large hill-built city with many towers and ground vehicles. On the other side of the water was what appeared to be another island with much flora. The Nunanish surely would not have sought dense foliage; he would have sought the population of the city.

  Screams rang in the distance. Gods Daimonous. Sabin realized that no Knights of the Fog were following, obviously having to deal with the outbreak in the Fog plane. “You.” He pointed to the gangly, spectacle-wearing tour-guide. “What is the quickest method off this island?”

  When he was met with only open jaws, he took matters into his own hands and ran toward the island cliff to dive into the murky waters of the San Francisco Bay.

  • • •

  Sparrow and Tera were hanging out in the kitchen of the Alameda coffee shop when the front door burst open with a loud jangle. Sparrow’s colorfully dressed aunts plowed through the coffee shop in a mass of long skirts, heavy knit scarves and entirely too much purple eye shadow.

  The front barista recognized the aunts and gave a cheerful wave. “Hello Melissandra, hello Morgana. Welcome back.” Tera cleaned her hands off with a damp rag. It was obvious by their flurried arrival that they had news. Not that they weren’t normally somewhat rambunctious.

  “Agrotera, we have interesting news for you.” The aunts spoke in disheveled unison. Sparrow seemed slightly perturbed.

  “Good to see you too, dearest aunts.”

  They looked over at Sparrow, whose dainty hands were placed firmly on her hips, her fingernails bright red with pink polka dots. Melissandra blew Sparrow a kiss before returning her attention to Tera.

  Tera spoke up. “What is it?”

  Melissandra and Morgana looked at each other with worry. “The portal has been opened.”

  “Should I do reconnaissance?” Sparrow asked, ready to become a winged scout if need be. Tera’s heart swelled with warmth for the friend she knew would do anything for her. If there was danger, Tera wasn’t sure she wanted Sparrow there.

  “Nope, I’ll ride the direct ferry; it should only take about fifteen minutes. You hold down the fort here in case I don’t return,” she assured her friend.

  Tera shrugged on her favorite leather jacket, perfect for concealing her discreet weaponry, which consisted of a stake, a silver hunting knife, handcuffs, and mace. She hugged the aunts good-bye, but Sparrow grabbed her arm.

  “Let me go with you. What if it’s the goddess from Morgana’s vision?”

  “It’s probably just my mother come to warn me. Don’t worry, I’ll have my cell. I’ll text you with an update.”

  As Tera headed out the door, she filled with warmth. Her mother, the Goddess of the Hunt had taught her everything about the forest and how to care for the creatures within it. Artemis was more than just a mother to Dryads, she was a defender of the defenseless. Tera hoped that one day she’d be as courageous as her mother. For now, she’d settle for throwing her arms around the goddess.

  It was time to visit the portal.

  Chapter Four

  Sabin pulled himself up onto a long wooden pier. Leather pants clung to his legs, his whole body soaked by the swim from Alcatraz Island. Surveying the area, he realized that matters were escalating quickly. Time to utilize his powers as a Knight of the Fog.

  The people swarming the boardwalk area were frenzied with violence. The women pulled at each other’s hair and threw fists randomly, driven by the hostility of the Nunanish infection. The men foamed at the mouth as they tumbled with each other on the ground, or threw each other through business windows. At least a hundred people on the pier had been infected. A carousel loomed in the distance, filled with children and he realized he had to contain the violence quickly.

  Reaching his arms out, he chanted in the old language once more, beckoning the fog to come closer. “Ghheestia Avrlo Vestiiia Resim.”

  Slowly, the thick fog that rested atop the water traveled to where he stood on the pier. The summoned haze blanketed the chaotic violence. As he began chanting, Sabin tasted the salt water dripping from his long silver hair, but his immortal flesh was immune to the cold liquid. He felt his pupils dilate as the fog thickened. In turn, his irises shifted to their clear aquamarine state. Now his eyes could penetrate the thick fog. “Pestin Gooja Astain.”

  He inhaled, pleased to find the fog thickening with its narcotic properties, and hopefully, the violence would be subdued. They’d have a wicked comedown and unexplainable bruises, but the infection would have passed.

  The fighting eased and every person within 100 yards of the pier passed out. Now it was time to find the Nunanish. It had to be nearby. He wondered briefly if he should gas the whole city while he worked. But then a welcome sight interrupted his thoughts.

  A single body walked through the thick fog. Long legs were wrapped in leather, and the tall female had cascading auburn hair and green eyes so bright they could have penetrated the thickest of fog. As she stepped over sleeping bodies, her gaze never looked down, but was locked on him. The narcotic of the fog didn’t work on her, and he thought she must be a succubus escaped into the realm. He wished he had time for the sex demon, but there were more pressing matters at hand and he was a warrior. Suddenly the succubus rushed him with blinding speed.

  • • •

  When Tera exited the ferry onto the pier, she noticed an uncharacteristically thick fog a couple piers down, and it was much too quiet for her taste. Sprinting into the dense fog, she found the ground littered with bodies. Most were beaten and badly bruised. This is not the work of the Goddess Artemis. Walking through the thick haze, her nose wrinkled against a peculiar scent.r />
  And then she saw him.

  Standing with his long legs spread, he held his hands outstretched like some sort of god. Her eyes took in his massive shoulders and smooth, muscled stomach before meeting his eyes. Clear as ice, his vicious gaze bore into hers. The Goddess Artemis had taught her long ago to distrust and despise men, so she relished the chance to tear the handsome murderer to shreds. Nobody messes with my city.

  Her greatest weapon as a Dryad were the strong claws that could elongate from her fingertips. They were used mostly for climbing, but they could also slice and dice if need be. Feeling the thick, pointy talons fully extended at her sides, she lifted her chin in a proud display of defiance and rushed the towering man standing fifty yards away.

  The beastly male stood there, almost as if he was too stunned to move. His hands dropped to his sides, but he did not take a fighter stance. Instead, he simply stared at her.

  She continued to sprint forward until he stood mere feet away and she leapt against a warehouse wall. She rebounded behind him, shoving her silver knife into his back. Using the blade to propel her body around to his front, she swept her elbow high up into the man’s face.

  “Oops, I’m sorry. Did I shatter your chin?” she teased the brute.

  Instead of surveying the damage, she dished out more. Tera focused her strength on pummeling his stomach, which she swore was made of steel. The eleven-inch blade hadn’t even come out the front of his body where she had plunged the serrated hunting knife. Disappointed that he had not yet fallen to his knees, she dropped to the fog covered ground and swept her leg out to bring the big man down.

  A strong grip grabbed her foot just before it connected and the force caused her body to knock hard against the ground. Whack!

  The strong, bruising hold on her ankle pulled her up. All of her blood rushed to her head as she dangled. She braced for impact, for surely her assailant had the perfect shot at her ribs from where he kept her hanging. Refocusing all her might, she swept upward and swung out to claw her aggressor’s throat.

  A gurgling sound came from her assailant and she relished her brief success. Surprisingly, the brute hadn’t dropped her despite the tracks of blood seeping from his neck. Who is this guy?

  Suddenly, the beast with blue eyes swung her by the ankle so that her whole body flipped through the air, her weight tossed like a rag doll. He caught her with two strong hands gripping her shoulders, her feet still dangling off the ground.

  Pain exploded in her shoulders where the demon vised a strong grip on her. Their eyes met almost seven-feet off the ground. His steely gaze appeared like a melting glacier, white and turquoise and aquamarine all at once. He looked more handsome than dangerous, but she had learned long ago that the most lethal killers did not give the impression of an obvious predator.

  Blood stained the brute’s full lips. “You are violent, but I sense that you are not infected. So what is your cause for attack, Dryad? And why are you not in your forest protecting your livelihood?”

  Tera’s jaw dropped in shock, the pain in her arms where he held her almost forgotten. He knew she was a forest-dwelling Dryad. Finding the courage lodged somewhere between her ribs, she warned the rogue. “I do not stand by while demons travel to my city and attack it.” Her lip quivered from the agony and she thought for a moment that he might have dislocated her shoulder. “You will pay for what you have done here.”

  The man’s eyes glittered dangerously, as if she struck a nerve. “Perhaps you should let me do my job if what has happened here pains you so much. The Nunanish will only escape farther if you continue to distract me.”

  “Nunanish?” Tera recognized the name from ancient Native American legend. It had been told that the Nunanish were dark clouds that infected them with violence. They could also take the form of a dark, misshapen beast, no eyes or face, no serrated teeth, only an infectious aura of evil. “So you didn’t kill these people?”

  A look of impatience passed over the man’s expression. “These people are only unconscious. I am a Knight of the Fog, a guardian of the Portal Realm. This Nunanish escaped under my watch and I am here to contain it before it does your region too much damage.”

  “What kind of damage?”

  “Gods use these demons to stir war, invoking hate and violence within peoples. It will bring chaos to your city.”

  His words didn’t make any sense to her. Tera’s vision wavered as agony overwhelmed her senses. Although she hadn’t lost any blood, she wondered briefly if the warrior’s iron hold had cut all circulation off in her body, and the aching in her arms and her dislocated shoulder throbbed. Tera had always been victorious in skirmishes with local vampires, but she had never known such pain.

  • • •

  Sabin frowned as the Nunanish presence faded, the demon obviously deciding to put off his chaotic rampage until later, hoping that Sabin would simply return to the Portal Realm. Sabin had no intention of leaving without the Nunanish. He would wait the demon out. The monster could only hide in shadow for so long. Eyeing the beautiful warrior woman he had dangling off the ground, he decided that she could be a powerful ally on the plane. Sabin loosened his grip and set her feet gently on the ground.

  The stunning creature was looking up at him when her body collapsed to the ground in an unconscious heap. For a moment, Sabin only stood there, trying to discern if the cunning woman was trying to trick him. Ah, hell plane!

  Sabin knelt quickly by the magnificent body to survey the damage. He had been careful not to strike the woman who had attacked him, but now she lay on the ground where he had caught her up in his arms. Her rich auburn hair was splayed on the ground around her face. It was impossible not to admire those full crimson lips and rosy cheeks. The Dryad’s eyes were closed, but he remembered them to be a very vivid shade of green. They had looked on him with such dedicated fury when she had thought him responsible for the destruction.

  Even now, innocent bystanders who meandered into the dense fog still dropped into a narcotic-induced slumber. Sabin looked over his shoulder through the thick haze and spied a long bridge leading to an island teeming with foliage. He took advantage of the lingering narcotic fog as an opportunity to gently toss the woman over his shoulder and trek across the long bridge. There he would anticipate the Dryad’s awakening.

  Arriving at the island called “Yerba Buena,” he felt assured that he had picked a good location to regroup. The island had many trees and shrubs for a city, and he was glad as he hiked to the top for cover. At a high peak on the island, he knelt and laid the Dryad down gently. When she awoke, surely she would be grateful to him for sparing her life, despite her interference in multi-realm matters. She would think him a compassionate man for returning her to the forest.

  Gazing at her angelic face and sinful curves, he reviewed what he knew about Dryads. The Goddess Artemis, whom he saw every so often in the Realm of the Fog when she came to portal surf, was a quiet, inconspicuous goddess. Unless someone pissed her off. It was whispered that she was a fierce man-hater.

  Lust stirred within him as he assessed the sleeping body. He fought the urge to explore her slumbering form even though the gentlemanly thing to do would be to check her for injuries. Her lips were full, and begged to be kissed.

  He couldn’t imagine this beautiful woman hiding out in the forest like other Dryads. This woman was courageous, and hell, feisty. Not anything like the legends that described shy creatures that spent their time lurking within the hollows of trees.

  He had much to learn about her, and he wanted to learn it soon.

  Gazing out from the high island peak, he saw the city skyline jutting out of the fog. It was a beautiful city to be sure. But then, he was partial to cities of fog. But he didn’t have time to admire it. An awareness prickling within prompted him to turn around just in time to see the Dryad open her eyes.

  Chapter Five

  An hour after Tera had left the coffee shop, the aunts sat on a couch by the front window, knitting and dishing
about the latest developments.

  “I wonder if Tera found her goddess. That sweet girl has been waiting so long for her mother to return.” Melissandra shook her head.

  “Yes, and she has endured so much,” Morgana added.

  “You know,” Melissandra changed the subject, as if she had an epiphany. “We should start knitting invisibility scarves.” She raised her brows at her sister, dressed whimsically as usual with her frizzy blond hair and sparkling eyes.

  “Like Harry Potter? He had an invisibility cloak.”

  “Yes, yes!” Melissandra seemed excited that her sister caught on. “From now on, no more talking while we knit—focus on enchanting the yarn with invisibility.”

  “You know the conservative covens wouldn’t want us to do something like that. People just can’t go about wearing invisibility scarves.” Morgana spoke softly, so as not to alert the other coffee drinkers.

  “Hey you two, come here!” Sparrow appeared before her aunts, wiping her flour-covered hands on the floral apron wrapped around her waist. Disappearing back into the kitchen, Sparrow motioned to the TV, which was on a local news channel. The aunts focused in on the report.

  “Reporting from Union Square, we are advising all tourists as well as locals to avoid the Embarcadero and the greater San Francisco Bay. It appears that we are experiencing either another natural gas leak or possibly radioactive fog. Earlier, city dwellers at the Embarcadero farmer’s market experienced a fit of rage before passing out. At this time, nobody knows what caused this, but investigations are ongoing. In the meantime, police are recommending that nobody go to the Embarcadero.”

  Melissandra broke out in a fit. “Radioactive fog? Sounds damn suspicious to me.”

  Morgana nodded in agreement. “Something definitely came out of that portal, and I’m guessing it was not the Goddess Artemis.”

  • • •

  Although she was furious, Eris, the Goddess of Chaos, threw back her head and cackled. The Goddess’ full lips were black, painted perpetually by the many souls she had brought destruction to in her time. Her misshapen breasts heaved with anticipation and she clapped her hands eagerly. Her plan had gone slightly awry with the Knight of the Fog following the Nunanish to the human plane, but she enjoyed the unexpected twist. After all, she was Chaos. The Knight would surely try to contain her Nunanish from creating violence and turmoil in the city, a thought that sent more excitement rushing through her body. She would command her Nunanish to hiding, while she sent the dashing warrior some dangerous distractions. Oh this would be fun indeed . . .

 

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