Queens of Wings & Storms

by Angela Sanders et al.

  She tsked. “It’s not intuition, it’s magic at work.”

  She could feel his eyes rolling as they flicked upwards. His wand followed his movements.

  “You know how rare it is for a wand to seek out its witch? Accept it,” she said.

  “It’s a weird stick,” Zenon said. “But it’s not a wand. I don’t see any witches with a wand around here.”

  It was Alazne’s turn to roll her eyes. Pulling out her wand, she held it up. “This is my wand, you idiot. It’s not tech. It’s a magical stick that helps me focus my powers.”

  Zenon was quiet as he looked at it. Good. Give him food for thought. He really was in some serious denial if he hadn’t figured out that her ‘this is just a stick’ was actually her wand.

  He looked around and Alazne realized he was getting jumpy. Maybe now wasn’t the time to lecture him about his denial.

  “We have a problem,” he said.

  I think it’s time to get off this world, her familiar said in her mind, Ariad’s head popping out of her coat pocket again. Maybe we really are being followed.

  Alazne suddenly had the sinking feeling that the Hunters that took Jessa could be following anyone that went to her house.

  “Oh no,” she said. “Could it be the Hunters?”

  Or maybe it was someone else? Someone who could tell them what happened to Jessa?

  “We need to leave. Now.”

  The urgency in Zenon’s voice spurred her to movement. That tone left no question about waiting around to find out who it was. Taking up her wand, she summoned the life-giving energy of the potted trees lining the street.

  “Mother Goddess of Quan, allow me to pass.” Alazne swirled her wand in circles in front of her. Faster. Until the telltale sparks of light of a portal opening appeared.

  Stepping onto the spongy green grass of the tropical world of Elder, she took in a deep breath, listening to the sounds around them: birds, bugs, small mammals swinging on vines between the trees. She loved this place.

  Having no magical abilities, Hunters would be unable to follow through the portal. And this wasn’t a bad place to hide out in.

  “Whoever it is came through,” Zenon said next to her.

  Wand vibrating, it buzzed around him in wide circles.

  “Oh, so it’s a witch.” Alazne felt relief. Perhaps no Hunters were on anyone’s tail that might be checking on Jessa. “We can just go talk to her.”

  Turning to go back the way she came, Zenon grabbed her shoulder.

  “Wait,” he said. He looked at his wand, which sounded like it might splinter itself with all that vibrating. “It didn’t do this around the other witches on that planet. It might be a warning.”

  “We should proceed with caution,” Ariad said from her shoulder.

  He pointed at the squirrel, nodding his head. Was he agreeing with her familiar again?

  Tropical birds sang overhead, oblivious to any danger that could be lurking.

  “So now what?” she said.

  Zenon motioned towards a gigantic tree with an opening large enough to fit all of them. “We’ll wait in there and see what we’re dealing with.”

  If she wasn’t already a portal wielder, she’d be afraid there was a portal to some dark place in that opening. It didn’t look at all inviting.

  Zenon wedged himself in first. Not exactly looking like both of them could fit, she was impressed when he turned around and stood to his full height. But—

  “Are there spiders?” she said. The thought of eight furry legs traversing the strands of her hair made her shiver.

  She heard him chuckle. “Are you afraid?”

  A stubborn feeling welled up inside her. “No, of course not.” She just didn’t want the damn things in her hair!

  Then he added in all seriousness. “There are no spiders—”

  “C’mon Alazne,” the squirrel urged. “The pursuer will be here any moment.”

  As she started to scrape through the opening, Zenon continued. “—But there are worms. Lots and lots of worms.”

  Goddess Almighty!

  He grabbed her arm and pulled her back against his chest. The ground wiggled with movement. Fark, he wasn’t kidding.

  “Yummy,” the squirrel squeaked and scurried down her body to enjoy the feast.

  The feeling of the familiar’s tiny feet didn’t help her imagination of all sorts of creepy crawlies finding their way into her clothing. The buzzing wand against the back of the opening didn’t help either, making her think there were bees in there with them too.

  Squirming against the man behind her, she tried standing on tippy toes. Goddess, the worms would be in her boots in a minute—

  Zenon’s arms came around her and she froze. All thoughts of worms and spiders and any number of crawling things vanished at the strength of those arms. Lifting her against his chest, he set her back down so that her feet were standing on top of his.

  Glancing over her shoulder, her breath caught at the closeness of his very kissable lips.

  “Is that better?” he said, voice whisper soft, breath brushing her neck.

  Better? What was he talking—

  Oh, the worms. Right. She was no longer standing directly on the ground.

  Breathing again, she said just as softly, “Yes, thank you.”

  There she is, Ariad’s voice cut into her mind. The squirrel’s teeth chattered together rapidly before falling completely silent.

  Even Zenon’s wand grew quiet.

  They watched intently as a young woman, maybe only a teenager, appeared in the opening by the tree. Openly hostile, her eyes were aglow with an intensity that made Alazne press back into Zenon’s chest. Hopefully he was equally trying to make himself invisible.

  And she was dressed exactly like a Hunter.

  This was impossible. No magic user would join the Hunters. Even if there was a witch that crazy, Alazne rather doubted they would allow one to join their ranks. Was this person simply stupid? Like the man still in Hunter clothing behind her?

  Alazne glanced back at Zenon, whose eyes flicked down to meet hers briefly before focusing on the young woman again.

  “I know you’re here,” Intense Eyes said. “I can feel your presence.”

  Zenon’s strong arms came around her again, making her jump slightly when his hand started feeling about her clothing. His hand produced her wand and he tapped it against her chest until she grabbed it.

  She got the hint, but apparently his wand wasn’t too happy about him handling another wand. It came around from behind them and smacked him square in the face.

  “Ow!” he exclaimed loudly.

  The young witch turned her intense eyes on them, energy circling around her fingertips as she raised her hand.

  Oh, snarfle. No time to call on any entities to guide her, Alazne drew in the energy of the worms at their feet, focusing it at the end of her wand, which she used to draw circles above their heads.

  This time, the portal pulled them, sucking them up as if a great vacuum appeared rather than a portal—

  And deposited them into a dark, dense forest of dead trees and fog so heavy it grabbed at the skin. Wispy spirits darted between branches, so dark Alazne almost didn’t notice them, but they were there, right on the periphery of her vision.

  The Dead World.

  Why did you bring us here? Ariad’s alarm was startling.

  I didn’t do it on purpose. Sometimes a portal opened into the unknown, but it was rare. Perhaps this was her wand trying to protect her. Or it could have been because she didn’t have time to ask for a guide. Maybe both.

  You will have to be careful, the familiar said. Your powers will be greatly diminished.

  At least we’re on equal footing. It would be hard for anyone to summon enough energy to use their powers here.

  “Oh no, what happened?” she heard Zenon’s startled voice behind her. When she turned, she saw that his wand had fallen to the dirt, not a single live blade of grass to be seen.


  Part of her was delighted to see he was concerned about his ‘possessed stick.’ But she mostly felt bad for bringing everyone here.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’ll be fine once we leave this place.”

  But then it felt as if there was a great distance between the dead planet and any other world, a distance that wasn’t there when they arrived. She would not be able to open a portal to get them away from here. The distance was so vast it would kill her to do so.

  “We’re trapped,” she whispered.

  This place does not abide by the laws of physics or magic or any laws. It’s supernatural. Ariad’s tiny body shivered.

  Oblivious to their new plight, Zenon knelt down and gingerly picked up the wand. Once it was in his hand, it wiggled back to life. Yelling out, he dropped it and it promptly grew lifeless again.

  “Stag,” he said. “I’m sorry, Stick. You are just so creepy.” He took in their surroundings. “Not as creepy as this planet, though.”

  Grabbing up the stick, he stuck it in his jacket as quickly as possible. Alazne couldn’t stop the smile that spread over her face.

  “What?” he said. “Don’t want to hold the damn thing, but I’m not leaving it here either.”

  “I’m not judging you,” she said. Though she found it odd he was willing to grab her wand only minutes ago.

  It sure felt like she was judging him. Zenon wiped his hand on his pants. That thing coming to life in his palm was weird as fark. But he was also relieved that he somehow hadn’t killed it. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was starting to grow fond of the stick following him around—

  Even though it apparently had a jealous rage, smacking him in the face so hard he yelled out, giving away their hiding spot.

  Taking in their surroundings, a chill seized his bones. Other than the obvious of everything being dead, the place seemed to be drawing energy from him, draining him, making him want to sleep.

  “Can we get off this world?” he said. “I don’t think anyone followed us here-”

  The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stood up. Uh-oh, he spoke too soon.

  Alazne must have picked up on his alarm. “She’s here, isn’t she?”

  Missing his possessed stick, he hesitated only a moment before grabbing it out of his jacket. The stick wobbled and buzzed in his hand, suddenly unaffected by the dead surroundings. Was it because he was holding it? And damn if this buzzing warning noise wasn’t useful. Maybe it wasn’t so weird, not with their lives depending on it—

  The wand leveled itself, sticking straight in front of him. Then it pulled out of his loose grip.

  Coming back around, it smacked his hand, then chased it as Zenon wrapped his arm around his back to escape another stinging smack.

  “Ouch, that farking hurts. What the Hell, Stick?”

  The crazy thing came around again, pressing itself into his palm at his back until he grabbed hold of it. Then it pulled his hand out in front of his body, pointing straight ahead of him again.

  There was a slight tug. Was it testing him?

  Seemingly sure his grip was tight, it pulled hard enough he had to either let go or start walking. After what it did when he let go a second ago, he chose to walk.

  The crazed stick pulled him along, Alazne with the squirrel robot following without a word.

  Suddenly feeling weightless, he realized it stopped. Still pointing straight out in front of him from his outstretched hand, he looked beyond the wood line into a field of fog that appeared to be lifting. He didn’t see anything.

  Wait—

  There was something. He could just make out a silhouette on the other side of the field. It was the young witch. Two shadows floated on each side of her. Were they spirits? He never thought spirits were real—

  “Shadow spirits,” Alazne’s voice was soft beside him.

  The fog continued to lift and he realized all three beings were looking towards he and Alazne. The young witch’s eyes were aglow. Was she lifting the fog? Could it have been the spirits?

  “Goddess, it’s a Portal Finder,” Alazne exclaimed. She glanced at him. “I’m a portal wielder. If someone can utilize magic, there’s always another magic user that can counter it. I make portals, she finds them.”

  “I get it,” he said. The question was more how did she find them? How did she know there’d be a ‘Portal Wielder,’ as Alazne called herself, on Quan?

  And she was just standing there, staring at them, the shadows floating next to her ominously. Were they in some sort of standoff?

  “Your bodies belong to the Hunters,” the young witch’s voice boomed over the dead land. “Your souls belong to the Shadows.”

  The Shadow Spirits rushed towards them over the field, their dark shapes twisting and expanding. But Zenon could make out faces in those shapes very clearly. Horrific faces contorted silent screams. Twisted hands and fingers reaching for him.

  “Black magic of Soul Suckers, you have no power here,” Alazne took up her wand, pointing it towards the dark beings.

  Zenon had no idea what was going to happen.

  Nothing did.

  “Oh no,” Alazne said. “They have absolute power on the Dead World. My magic doesn’t work here.”

  Zenon pulled his gun and shot twice at the closest Shadow. The energy bullet passed through, hitting the dirt beyond, a harmless puff of dust rising in the air.

  Blood racing, lightning striking his heart, Zenon stared in horror as the shadow passed through his body. He felt a pull on his organs, a sudden drain in energy, but was otherwise unaffected.

  Alazne, on the other hand, looked as if she were an inch from death, her face contorted in pain and regret. He blinked, surprised he could feel regret emanating from her. Or maybe that was his own regret.

  Amidst the scene of swirling dark shadows, grey dust, and fading Alazne, stood the tiny squirrel. It was as energetic as ever, scurrying over the ground towards him.

  “Your wand,” its tiny voice was yelling.

  Zenon looked at his stick, which was aglow with white light. How did he not see that before? It was hard to think through the buzzing haze.

  The squirrel scurried up his leg, up his body, until it was on his shoulder next to his ear. “Use your wand!”

  Chapter 7

  Alazne couldn’t breathe. As soon as she could catch a breath, the Soul Sucker passed through her again. Mouth feeling as if it were full of sand, her very organs were drying up. Blackness filled her vision—

  She would not survive this.

  “Only take their souls.” The voice didn’t sound that far away and she realized the Hunter witch was now standing directly in front of them.

  “Use your wand,” she heard the tiny voice of her familiar.

  Light—

  Blinding and all-encompassing light washed over her, through her, spreading outwards in all directions. Her very soul was awash in the glow, her entire body feeling renewed strength. Sight returned all at once and she exhaled, a puff of dust exiting her mouth, diffused promptly by the light.

  The Soul Suckers were nowhere to be seen. But Zenon—

  Trails of light swirled around him in a breeze that ruffled his clothing. His eyes were pure white with light, tiny wisps emanating outwards from the corners. Even his breath was aglow as he inhaled and exhaled, as if the light was fueling him.

  Arm outstretched, his wand stood proud from his enclosed fist, glowing so brightly she couldn’t look at it. Ariad sat on his shoulder, a look of wonderment as the squirrel gazed over the dead field.

  Blinking, Alazne turned her head to see and her breath caught, unable to breathe again, but not because a dark spirit was sucking her soul.

  The field was green, grass tall and healthy, butterflies flitting in the breeze.

  “Holy Universe.” Zenon spoke and Alazne was able to let out the breath she was holding.

  The glowing light from around his body gone, he was holding his wand between both hands now, looking at it as if he�
��d just seen it for the first time. No longer bright with the light, it sat content in his palms, looking every bit the stick he kept calling it.

  When his eyes met hers, her breath caught again. No longer aglow, they were no longer brown either. Now they were so light blue they were almost white.

  “I bet you believe in magic now,” she said, hardly able to believe this complete transformation into the most powerful wizard she’d ever seen happening to a non-believer.

  His arms dropped to his sides, wand held firmly in his right hand, smirk on his face.

  Movement caught her eye. The Hunter Witch, running away at the edge of the green field. Zenon took off in pursuit, Ariad jumping from his shoulder into Alazne’s outstretched hands as he passed.

  Zenon was getting answers. This witch tried to hurt them. Never mind what just happened; he had no idea what happened. But maybe there was something to this magic thing, and he’d keep the stick.

  Easily outrunning the crazed witch, he tackled her to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs. Struggling, pain traversed his jaw when she got a punch in.

  That’s when he saw it, something shiny on her neck, a small circular piece of tech no larger than his pinky fingernail. Reminding him of mind-controlling tech he studied from the now freed slave world of Candar, he flipped the wiggling witch to her stomach. She screeched and struggled harder.

  “Hang on,” he said. “This will be over in a minute.”

  She yelled and writhed and he winced. Stomach churning, he held her head down, knee against her back, effectively immobilizing her.

  Quick examination of the tech confirmed his suspicions. Someone was controlling this woman.

  With his free hand, he pinched at the circular device, which pulled at her skin as he tried lifting it up. Screaming, the woman grabbed his wrist. Damn it, almost got it.

  Finally getting a fingernail underneath, he picked it free of her neck. The young witch went completely limp.

  Fark, did he just kill her? He didn’t remember mind-controlling tech having an automatic kill-if-removed mechanism. Releasing the limp form, he scooted back, sitting on his knees.