Pride and Poltergeists

by H. P. Mallory

  The downed soldiers looked a lot worse up close. Most of their bodies were mauled into nothing, scratched and bitten into bloody pulp by the werewolves and draconians, both races too old fashioned or bloodthirsty to use more efficient magic. The SUVs weren’t faring well either—an armored car is a fortress, but even steelplast and automatic rifles can only do so much when facing a battle-mad dragon with an agenda. The car windows were busted in, the doors ripped off their hinges, and deep gouges ran the length of the exteriors, the painted metal curling up around the deep impressions. Melting, now, the rubber tires sloughed to the ground like jelly, too hot to touch, even on the car’s far side, where I was hiding.

  I peered around the corner. The dragon was on all fours, crouching, its neck pulsing like it was choking on something. Smoke curled up from its nostrils, its latest round of fire spent and dead. Its breathing sounded thin, ragged, like a razor on a piano wire—and it kept digging its claws into the earth, clenching them like fists, its eyes squeezing shut and popping open, wild, frantic, searching …

  Those eyes.

  Its eyes were red and burning. I spotted the starry, black swirls of a glamour. One that was just barely keeping hold of its host. And could be commandeered by a more powerful vampire.

  “Ezra!” I screamed, and he popped out from his hiding place on the far side of the lawn—the only vampire in the world who was older than Meg. And the only one potentially capable of slipping an established glamour out from under her.

  “Glamour!” I said, pointing at the dragon.

  I didn’t have to say anything more. Ezra followed my hand, locating the dragon’s eyes, and his expression went dark. Not just grim, but physically darker, his eyes twisting to match the dragon’s corrupted colors. He mouthed “Bram,” too quietly for me to hear, but a moment later, I saw Bram emerging from a mass of ruined cars. His eyes had the same blistering darkness. Staring comets into the dragon, he was muttering under his breath.

  The dragon’s head twisted left until it hit the ground and started digging its horns into the grass, turning up divots of turf and crimson flowers. Its rear claws buried themselves, clawing, churning, howling, before its entire body began writhing—the eyes going from black to red to yellow to black again. Bram and Ezra were playing tug-of-war with its mind.

  Now was as good a time as any to get inside the White House. Bram and Ezra were standing out in the open now, their magic rippling the air around them. Behind Bram was Casey, who was slowly standing, watching in wide-eyed wonder as the dragon slowly pressed itself into the soft earth and closed its eyes—twitching, still struggling for control, but losing the fight.

  Casey turned to me, Judy, Rowena, Christina, and Kent, in turn, pointing us towards the front door. He began drawing a long circle in the air with his finger, mouthing “go around it.” We nodded and ran off, skirting the dragon, venturing only as close as we dared. Its tail rose up in the air and thrashed, slamming down hard enough to make the ground shake. I stumbled, fell, rolled, and popped back up. I began running, my heart pounding and ears ringing—and beneath the ring, I heard a subterranean roar, the metallic hum of magic weaving itself through a powerful mind.

  I slammed against the front wall of the building, panting, with only the pillars and a hundred feet separating me from the monster. Casey and the rest were with me half a second later, appearing from nowhere as I watched the dragon struggle. Bram and Ezra continued chanting soundlessly, flanking the beast now, staring unblinkingly into its soul, pulling, pulling, pulling—

  “Talk to me, Silas, what are we looking at?” Casey said into his phone from where he stood right next to me. His back was against the wall, and he was breathing hard. He was dusty black with smoke and dirt.

  Silas’s voice rumbled through Casey’s phone, just loud enough for the rest of us to hear. “Besides the dragon?”

  “Yes, besides the dragon!” Casey spat. “What’s inside?”

  “Well, nobody’s going to stop you.”

  Casey looked at me—I couldn’t say why. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, there’s basically nobody in the building. Nobody alive, anyway. It looks like a lot of people cleared out of there in a hurry. A lot more than before. There’s nobody here.”

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Casey muttered. It sounded like a hell of a lot of somebodies had known Meg was coming and scurried out instead of warning anybody. Which didn’t bode well for any help we thought we might receive.

  “Where’s Odyssey?” Judy asked, leaning forward. She was standing still against the wall—a gun in her hand, I guessed it was probably missing more than half of its magazine.

  “Hang on, I’m looking, I’m looking …” said Silas. We heard the click and clack of scuttling keys, the clicking of a mouse, and Silas murmuring to himself. “Holy shit.”

  “What?” we all said together, looking at each other.

  “Entry hall,” said Silas. “Like, right inside the front door. Meg’s on top of her! You need to move!”

  “We’re moving,” said Casey.

  We ran in a straight line for the door, and Judy and Kent leapt across it to the other side, plastering themselves against the wall. I snapped my fingers, and a wick of fire sprang to life in my palm. It fluttered there meekly, making Casey’s gun shimmer.

  Casey and Judy locked eyes and nodded. They counted down under their breaths. Three … two … one …

  Kicking the door open, the air exploded with a hideous scream.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Knight

  I was still outside, crouched behind a mountain of rubble, watching Bram and Ezra mentally wrestling with a fucking dragon. I couldn’t deny that I was impressed.

  Casey motioned for the others to move, and I started to follow.

  Before I could take another step, I heard a voice.

  I see you survived, said Hades, appearing in a rush of black smoke. He was steaming and calmly appraising the situation at hand. Or have I spoken too soon?

  “I don’t suppose you’re here to help?” I grumbled, knowing damn well he wasn’t. No, he wanted to send me to Magic Mountain where all the Lokis could get together and have a fucking party.

  Hades’s eyes flashed, sparking silver. I am here to remind you of your purpose.

  “Isn’t my purpose to kill Meg?”

  Your purpose is to claim your army from the depths and destroy everything she is from the inside out. That means more than just her death.

  “I don’t have time for that,” I spat back at him. “There’s a dragon on the White House lawn and a crazy vampire somewhere inside that wants to kill the president. Not to mention, I have no idea where Dulcie is.”

  And there is an army waiting for its general, Hades said impatiently. This is not where Meg meets her end.

  “I’m not gonna walk away,” I said, starting for the front door—which was open now. The high whine of a distant scream suddenly spilled out from within.

  You are, Hades said, manifesting in front of me a moment later. If you value your life and the continuation of the world, you will depart at once.

  “For the mountain?”

  For the mountain.

  “Where I can get all the Lokis together and have a tea party before the world ends?”

  You mock me at your own peril.

  “If you’re this all-knowing god, why the hell haven’t you realized that Meg is here! If you want me to kill her, I can do that right now!”

  As I’ve already told you, Meg does not meet her end here, not on this day. This is not the way it will unfold.

  “Then change the fucking story!” I railed back at him. “What sense does it make to run away from an enemy who’s lying in wait for me?”

  I am warning you. If you value your life and the lives of every creature on this planet, you will depart this place at once.

  “Get out of my way.”

  But he refused to move. No. She does not die here.

  “That’s not the point!�
� I said, screaming. I was steaming, and fire could have been leaping from my eyes—Hades’s spirit gift was boiling in the back of my heart, bubbling over, spitting acid, and my temper broke and flared. “Dulcie is in there! And I damn well intend to get her out. Fuck you and fuck your stupid fucking army! I have people to worry about, do you get that? Do you see that there is an entire fucking city on fire behind me? Do you realize that if we let Odyssey die today, the whole fucking community of supernatural creatures is going to get booted off the planet forever? We’ll never recover from an attack of this scale, which you know we’ll be blamed for, and if you’re not here to prevent the whole fucking world from going apeshit on your people, then I have no idea what you want with me.”

  I want you to go to the mountain.

  “You know what? I don’t care.” I shook my head, more than furious. “What kind of worthless, piece-of-shit god can stand in the middle of all of this and say that he’s got better things to worry about?”

  Hades was silent. His expression suggested he was thinking.

  You will not defeat her here, he said at last. You have no chance. The powers she draws on are too effective. This is not where it ends.

  I shook my head in disbelief. “Fuck you!” And I made to storm off.

  A cold, ethereal hand grabbed me by the arm. Wait.

  I scoffed. “For what?”

  If I help you now, will you go to the mountain and claim your birthright?

  “Birthright?” I asked. “What do you mean birthright?”

  Will you, or won’t you?

  I sighed. “If you actually do something useful? Sure. I’ll go to Magic Mountain to get your army and do whatever the hell else you want me to, but that’s only if you help me now.”

  Hades let me go, straightened up, and sighed, his teeth clacking together. He turned to look at the dragon again, as well as Bram and Ezra who tried to take it over. The dragon was back on its feet, now, standing at half its height, choking out roars and rumbles and whimpers—steadily gaining ground. Whether its strength came from within or from the original glamour, I couldn’t say.

  Hades clicked his tongue and said, A valiant effort. But Ezra should really know better.

  “What do you mean?”

  Meg has augmented her powers, he said. Inflated them with magic from the Abyss, and siphoned power from creatures like Leviathan and Geress Mountain-breather. They are monsters of ancient repute, much older than their own names. And friends of mine. She drinks their chaotic energies, too many for her to control—which may have driven her quite mad by now, but her power will not wane with her insanity. Ezra was there when she underwent the change, calling on them the first time. He should know they don’t have the power to overtake her glamour.

  “Okay,” I said, wondering what that kind of power and insanity would translate into in a final confrontation. Abyss sounded really bad. “So what’s your plan?”

  He spent another moment looking at the dragon. I have an idea. But first, a question.

  “What?” I asked warily.

  Hades turned to me. His face didn’t change, but I got the distinct impression that he was smiling. You aren’t afraid of heights, are you?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Dulcie

  Meg’s scream echoed through the room and she looked at me with wide, horrified eyes. I saw more panic than I’d ever seen on anyone.

  Good.

  The door crashed open across the room, splintering with orange light and loud thunder. Some shadows glided across the floor, long and dark, peeking in from either side of the entrance. I could smell them, six of them in all—humans and a fairy, each one radiating magic of varying strength and potency. One of them was laughing quietly.

  Meg didn’t notice.

  “Dulcie …” she said slowly, standing away from Odyssey. Swallowing and shaking, she didn’t have the muscles to get jittery, so that was all for show as well.

  “Keep moving,” I said. “Get away from her. Go.”

  Meg scuttled away, holding up her hands. “Dulcie,” she said, verging on tears, “please. Please don’t do this. I love you, I love you!”

  “No. You don’t,” I said. “If you loved me, we wouldn’t be here. Nobody would be dead. Nothing would be burning either.”

  Meg looked out the front door—but failed to see the four silhouettes hovering there. The fire beyond, along with the thunderous roaring of her dragon, and the background shatter-and-scream of a shambling DC were all she noticed.

  “But, but I did this for you!” she said, lurching forward. I adjusted my grip on the gun, and she stopped.

  “Call them off,” I said. “All of them. Now!”

  “Dulcie, I can’t. You know I can’t.”

  “You can,” I said. “You will. Or this is where I die.”

  Meg stiffened. “No!” she said. Eyes wide and yellow, she was panic stricken. “No. No. Dulcie. Princess,” she said, her voice lilting, trembling, “put down the gun, sweetie. Put it down. It’s all right now, Mother’s here.” Meg held out her hand and started walking towards me again. “Mother’s right here, my darling.”

  I took a single step backwards. “Call. Them. Off.”

  Meg’s face twisted with anguish. “I can’t, I can’t, it’s not that simple …”

  She kept talking, and the silhouettes crept farther inside—quietly whispering to each other, carrying guns in their hands that reeked of rust and steel and dragon’s blood. Meg either didn’t hear them, or she was doing a spectacular job of ignoring them.

  “Fine,” I said to Meg as I cocked the gun—or rather, I pretended to cock it. My weapon was already set to shoot, so I tried to emulate the click-pop. I opened my mouth and the sound poured forth perfectly. It sounded very realistic and believable.

  Meg stopped cold. “No,” she said in a hoarse whisper. “No!”

  “Yes,” I said. “Call off your people. Send them home. Now.”

  The shadows crept around the edge of the room, keeping to the walls, but now they had faces. Dark, angry, and worried, they were all faces I didn’t recognize, with laser-blue eyes and scraggly beards and an ivory half-mask and … and Christina, of all people!

  My blood froze. Sam.

  Standing a hundred paces behind Meg, she held fire in her hands. She was staring at me with terror in her eyes and standing next to a tall, handsome man I’d never seen her with before … somebody with spirit strings that linked the pair of them, heart-to-heart and soul-to-soul. Glittering blue, it was an accident of amateur magic and something else I shouldn’t have been able to see.

  I had to wonder who he was. And why he was here. Was this the man who saved her from me in Splendor? The ghost with a blue heart? The Siphon?

  Maybe. I hoped it was.

  Then I heard something—actually, I felt it more than heard it. The distant rumble of a beast in the air, and the rippling thud! of it landing on the roof, but light as a feather. Then the stippled-lightning rhythm of stored energy. It must have been getting ready to breathe a blaze strong enough to bust through two floors of solid stone and steel.

  I looked at Sam. Fire rose in her hands. Fire …

  “You … you wouldn’t,” said Meg. “You couldn’t. You can’t. I won’t let you.”

  Meg’s eyes went dark with a glamour—weak, thin as spring ice, nine-tenths panic and one-tenth desperation. Too much of her own desire blocked it, but she had enough, just barely enough, to tweak my mind.

  But not enough to make me do anything more than smile.

  “Mother,” I said, in a level tone. The word was mine, and a huge improvement from Glamoured Dulcie’s devotion.

  Meg sighed, visibly relaxed. “Dulcie,” she said. “My … my darling Dulcie … my daughter … come to me.” She held out her hand.

  The building shook and the ceiling cracked, dust and rubble falling everywhere, echoing with a fantastic roar. The metallic stench of something with blood and scales, scorched lightning in its throat, and the glacial tugging i
n the pit of my stomach that could only mean it was a dragon. My fairy’s awareness overcame me all at once. I was stretching upwards through stone, snatching the beast’s identity right out from under it.

  Meg looked up, then back at the sound—then she saw Sam and the others for the first time.

  Her fingers twitched, forming shadows in the palm of her hand—dark magic, cursed energy. Deep and dangerous, it was something I’d never seen her use before, and she seemed fully ready to drive it like a spear through their beating hearts.

  Rumble-thump-shake went the building. Three seconds later, the roof came down. I had only one more second before Meg would start her killing rampage.

  Even as that thought crossed my mind, Meg raised her hand. Shadows fell on her body like lightning bolts.

  “You,” she hissed, and Sam took a step closer. Fire was spitting and flickering in her hand as the void of a vacuum occupied the space, drawing magic from a place no physical creature should have been able to call on. The roof collapsed above us, caving in and splintering—one floor to go, and two more seconds. Not enough time! Ribbons of inky black danced across Meg’s fingers, as she kept rearing back, ready to lurch, but only managing to choke and swallow.

  Above us, the dragon on the roof—now the second floor—took a deep breath. The air burned in preparation, igniting the kerosene at the back of its throat. Ready to bust through the final floor to reach us, and fully intent on burning us to cinders.

  But something else was there. Not just the dragon, but something smaller and bolder, straddling its back. Coaxing it downwards with softly whispered words, its heart was pounding. It wasn’t quite human, which, on any other day, would have been concealed by the dragon’s own essence—however, today my own strange sight and this person’s peculiar, volcanic strength combined to shine as brightly as a beacon in the dark.

  I thought I recognized him, but he was so much stronger than he should have been—bolder, a firestorm of emotion and magic. A burning silhouette of what he used to be. Just slightly more than he was.