“Damnit, cupcake,” complained Severin. “You broke my concentration and look what happened. I lost him.”
Branwyn peered up through streaming eyes, then rubbed them clean. What had been a pile of tormented changeling was sublimating into a cloud. Severin waved his hand through it a few times, then tilted his head to watch as it streamed up into the sky. “Back to his master for a new body.” Severin chuckled. “If he’s lucky. If Tarn cares enough.”
He stood up and looked around. “But here are all the rest. That saves me some time.” The other eight changelings, William included, stood in a circle around Branwyn and Severin, spears pointed inward.
“Which one would you like to keep as your guide, cupcake?” Severin laced his fingers together and cracked his knuckles.
“All of them,” wheezed Branwyn.
“That’s not a choice,” chided the kaiju, and he darted forward and grabbed one of the spears. Quicker than Branwyn could process, he’d hauled the spear’s owner in, twisted him around, and broken his neck. Then he flung the body to the ground as it, too, began to sublimate.
After a shocked heartbeat, the others surged toward him, shouting. For a moment, Branwyn could only make out bodies and flashing spear points. Ignoring her painful breathing, she scrambled up on the fallen tree and watched the battle for a moment. Severin moved like a sapling, bending and swaying to avoid some thrusting spear points, slapping others out of the way. His foot snapped into a trooper’s knee and the faerie collapsed. His palm hit another one in the face and that one reeled away with blood streaming from his nose and mouth.
The kaiju stepped out of the circle through the opening he’d created, then jumped up onto the fallen tree beside Branwyn. “You see, it’s not as if they’re real. I kill them and they just fly along home to Tarn again. It’s nothing but a message for him.”
“Go to hell,” snarled Branwyn.
Severin waved a finger. “Tsk, tsk. So, who will it be? I think they’ll all be equally good for getting us in to see the Queen of Stone, so the real question is, which one pleases you the most?”
“Us? Us? There is no ‘us.’ Go away,” said Branwyn, shoving him off the tree. He flipped midair and landed on his feet. She’d hoped the fae would take advantage of the situation and go back to stabbing him, but they hung back. A couple of them wore grim expressions, but others were obviously frightened. They might not be dying, but whatever was happening after they were defeated wasn’t comforting to anticipate.
Severin looked annoyed. “Should I just kill all of them and leave you here for the night to consume, then?” He reached behind him and one of the grim-faced fae stumbled forward as if pushed, right into his hand. The kaiju held the smaller figure by the throat without taking his nightmare eyes off Branwyn. “What exactly was your intention in bringing them all out to me, if not this?”
Branwyn shook her head, not biting on that bit of guilt. He’d already acquired one of them. He would have acquired more through the night, and this way, they at least knew what they were facing.
She glanced around the clearing for ideas and met William’s gaze. Alone of his troop, he seemed angry rather than frightened. Angry, but resigned. Branwyn didn’t like that at all.
She had to do something, but what could she do against Severin? She couldn’t fight him, that was clear. She couldn’t argue with him. She couldn’t even barter with him; she had nothing that he wanted. She was helpless. And she hated it.
His hand squeezed the changeling’s throat. Another one started forward, but William stopped him. The changeling’s eyes bulged and his brown skin purpled.
“Please,” Branwyn whispered. “Please don’t.”
Severin cocked his head. “What’s that? Did you say something?”
Branwyn swallowed, her chest hurting. “Please don’t hurt them.”
“Oh, cupcake,” sighed the kaiju. “Begging for the lives of some videogame characters? Are they really worth hurting your pride for?”
“I’m not beg—” Branwyn started to say, then stopped. She was. She would, no matter how hard it was to get the word out. “Please.”
The kaiju’s hand relaxed and the changeling collapsed onto the forest floor. To Branwyn’s relief, he didn’t dissolve into mist.
But Severin wasn’t done. He sprang back up on the fallen tree, closing on her. His eyes glittered in the darkness.
“They aren’t worth it, you know.”
“I know you think that. I disagree.”
“You are naive.” He cocked his head to one side. “Or maybe you’re right. Maybe it isn’t costing you anything. Maybe you’re just manifesting your true nature. Something small. Something sweet and helpless. Perhaps begging comes naturally to you.” His hand twitched and Branwyn scooted backwards. “You’d enjoy losing control. Letting somebody else pull your strings.”
“No,” Branwyn gasped. Even from a few feet away, he was crowding her. She couldn’t look away from his eyes. He could see her darkest fears: that he was right. She was weak. She felt so much better trusting somebody else’s judgment. She’d been lying to herself all this time, trying to live up to an image she’d imagined. Begging really was the best she could do.
I am going to visit the Queen of Stone.
Branwyn jerked out of her reverie of self-loathing and scrambled down off the fallen tree, away from him “No,” she said again. “I really wouldn’t.”
Severin chuckled. “I didn’t think that would last long. But it was delicious while it did.”
“That’s what’s important to you, isn’t it?” Branwyn said suddenly. “You wouldn’t like me saying ‘please’ nearly as much if it came easily.”
“Oh, there’s always some appeal.” The kaiju sounded positively cheerful as he swung himself off the tree after her. He waved his hand at the remaining changelings. “I’ll let you live for now. The mortal has successfully purchased an extension on your pretend lives. Run along back to your camp.”
“What?” Branwyn suddenly felt very tired. It had been such a long day already. “Really? God, Penny always talks about the power of being polite but I never thought it went this far.”
The jack-o-lantern smile came and went. “You’re much more interesting to play with than some animated soul-patterns, cupcake.”
Branwyn eyed him, caught between asking what the hell he was talking about and getting away. She finally opted for at least a token effort toward self-preservation and turned to William and the changelings. “Let’s go, before he changes his mind.”
The changelings tried to fall in around her, but she shooed them ahead of her. She noticed, as she walked, that they weren’t leaving Severin behind. She could hear him following them, his feet crunching dead things with every step.
She stopped. She turned around. She peered into the darkness. And there was nothing to see. Nothing to hear.
Something was breathing behind her. She turned around again, but there was only William, a little ways ahead, watching her with some concern.
“This is ridiculous. I know you’re there. You can’t frighten me if I know you’re there.”
“Can’t I?” His voice was right in her ear.
Branwyn didn’t turn around again, but she did pick up her pace, staring fixedly ahead and hoping she didn’t fall over anything in the darkness.
It really did sound like Severin was walking over broken bones. Snapping, with occasional squelching.
The firelight of the campsite became visible through the trees, not an instant too soon, and Branwyn broke into a jog. The bone-walking faded behind her. When she burst through the foliage and jumped back onto the bricks of the campsite, she felt a sense of triumph. It was quickly followed by another wave of tiredness, and her body complaining in detail about sore muscles and bruises.
The remaining changelings conferred together. Branwyn sagged onto the ground near the fire, trying not to wonder if she’d made the right decision, trying to rescue the original victim.
“This is cozy,” remarked Severi
n, stepping into the campsite. “Which pavilion is mine?”
“What?” demanded Branwyn, starting to her feet, her heart thumping. “Go away. You let them go!”
“Relax, cupcake. I want to visit the Queen of Stone, too. I’m sure I said.” In the firelight, he almost seemed like an ordinary man, except for his red-stained hands and the way he moved like a wolverine hoping for a fight.
She narrowed her eyes and he added, “I’ll be tagging along one way or the other. If you’d rather have me behind you…?”
“You won’t see her,” said William. “We don’t have the power to fight you, but she is guarded by those who would send you howling back into the night.”
“We’ll see,” said the kaiju. He crossed to the firepit with long strides, then crouched beside it. Holding a hand out to the flame, he said, “Have you made up your mind, cupcake? With you or behind you?”
“I’m trying to decide,” said Branwyn. “Which one you’d enjoy more. Which one I want you to enjoy more.”
“And I bet that’s a fun line of thought.” He grinned at the fire.
It wasn’t. Branwyn gave up trying to see the point of view of a monster. She was tired and frustrated “Actually, I don’t care. Do what you want. It’s going to be awful anyhow.”
“Lady—” began William, in an alarmed voice.
Severin turned his head slowly to look at her, his eyes glittering again. “I don’t need permission, but getting it is somehow… inviting.” With one of those lightning-fast moves he was standing right in front of her, once again too close. His hand closed on her arm, and he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “But not as much fun as doing it my way. Be careful, cupcake. Say that to one of the fae and they’ll claim you just gave yourself to them.”
Branwyn kicked him.
The action wasn’t driven by a measured rationality. She was tired, she was cranky, she was frightened, and she was pissed off. And he’d grabbed her.
It didn’t work to hurt him, because he was too fast. But it worked to make him let go of her as he dodged away, and that was good enough. “I’ll remember that,” she said sweetly.
He stood just a few steps away, like a leaf come to earth. As he stared at her expressionlessly, Branwyn’s heart climbed into her throat. But he’d done something wrong, not her. As the moment drew itself out, she whirled around and stalked into her pavilion.
Once the silken door was closed behind her, she knelt in front of the table where she’d been working earlier that night. Staring blindly at the dorodango and the low-quality duplicate she’d made, she waited for him to come after her. When that didn’t happen, she waited for the sound of conflict outside.
Instead, there was only silence. Branwyn dragged in a deep breath as the adrenaline ebbed away. What did you do, she wondered, when the man-eating tiger you’d just escaped from followed you home, apparently no longer hungry? Apparently, you let him curl up beside the fire and do as he pleased. Even knowing he’d eaten some of your friends.
Branwyn’s insides squirmed at the thought. She hated being helpless. But that was why she was on this path. She’d known this would be dangerous when she started. She wasn’t going to break and run now, no matter how terrifying it became.
She blinked, shook her head, and focused on the dorodango again. What had she figured out about it? Oh yes, that it contained a band just like the one clamped around Zachariah’s wrist.
Frowning, Branwyn washed her face and hands in the bowl of water one of the changelings had left for her. Then she picked up the dorodango, went to the pavilion exit, and listened. There was only the low murmur of the remaining fae troop at first. They spoke another language to each other, something that sounded vaguely Gaelic.
Then one of the voices was raised in song. For a few moments, Branwyn listened to what was almost certainly a dirge while staring at the polished ball in her hand. Whatever Severin had said, whatever he’d meant, the fae certainly acted like they’d lost friends.
And yet…
When the singer finished, she unhooked the pavilion door and stepped outside. The changelings all sat on one side of the firepit, staring across it at Severin. The kaiju had returned to the position he’d been in before, crouched with one hand out to the fire, as if he was alone in the camp.
“William,” Branwyn called. Everybody looked at her, even Severin, but she kept her gaze on the leader of the changelings. “Do you know what’s inside this?”
She held up the dorodango and couldn’t help but notice that Severin pivoted to watch her, smirking.
William loped over to her. “It’s a gift for the Queen of Stone,” he explained, as if she was a child who’d forgotten.
Branwyn didn’t appreciate it. “That’s not what I asked. Do you know what’s inside?”
“No, I don’t.” His eyes didn’t even flicker.
Branwyn scowled. “Let’s find out.” She flung the ball at the ground. William moved to catch it, but she’d surprised him and he was too slow. The orange-swirled sphere thudded onto the cobbles and cracked in two.
“Are you mad?” William demanded. “Have you utterly lost your wits?”
Branwyn stepped past him and scooped up the remains of the orb. Silver metal curved out of one side, and as she picked it up, the ball further crumbled until nothing was left but a pile of dirt and a silver bracelet.
She shook the dirt off the bracelet. “Do you know what this is?”
“No!” William looked just as angry as he had when he watched the kaiju strangle one of his men.
“I know what happens to bad boys who lie,” said Severin cheerfully as he joined them beside the tent. “It’s me! Care to try again?”
William hesitated, looking furious, then admitted, “Yes, I know what it is.”
“Tell me,” commanded Branwyn. She wasn’t happy that Severin was involving himself, but she also wasn’t happy that William was lying to her after their experience in the forest. After she’d begged Severin to spare the lives of his men.
“It’s a control band for my lord’s son,” William said sullenly. “My lord gives his son’s service to the Queen in exchange for the Machine fragment.”
“You mean for Zachariah?” Branwyn asked sharply.
William nodded, then volunteered, “When my lord held him captive, the man fell into a black mood. A bargain was struck. My lord promised information in exchange for his son submitting to the control band.”
“But Zachariah was released after Marley defeated the angel. So why is he still wearing it?”
William looked at her like she was speaking another language, and Severin said, “You misunderstand, cupcake. The band wasn’t part of that captivity. It’s the result of a prison yard deal. Trading cigarettes for sex, that kind of thing. The band makes sure Zachariah can’t back out.” Severin grinned. “Makes sure he—”
“Shut up. I get it,” interrupted Branwyn. “What can the band make him do?”
William shrugged. “Many little things. One important thing.”
“Importance measured how?”
With a thin smile, William said, “By my lord’s son. The information he wanted was very important to him at the time.”
Branwyn stared down at the silver band. Through the Sight, she could see the magic spun around it. It was astonishingly complex. She remembered Zachariah saying, I need Marley, and she wondered if the silver band and its compulsion was why. What if the band turned him into a weapon against the twins? What would the Queen of Stone use him for?
Quietly, she said, “And you didn’t see any problem with this? Neither you nor Tarn nor any of your people?”
William’s expression became puzzled. “No...?” He cast a glance down at the band. “You destroyed the sphere, which destroys the symmetry of the gift, but the Queen of Stone won’t mind that much. I hope.”
In her head, Severin’s voice whispered, You don’t even like them, but you saved them from me. Would you like to change your mind?
“No,” w
hispered Branwyn. She curled her fingers over the band. It was one thing to make a fair deal, but a bargain struck under duress for an unspecified payment wasn’t fair. Adding in an irresistible compulsion only made it worse. And this deal was probably contributing to Zachariah’s interference in Marley’s relationship with Corbin, which made it personal.
And yet she was carrying the tool of this coercion to somebody who could provide the key to saving Penny.
Poor, helpless Branwyn, crooned the kaiju. You’ll beg for the lives of strangers. What will you do for your friend?
“Not this,” said Branwyn. She wrapped both hands around the silver band and bent it until it, and the magic bound to it, warped.
“You are insane,” said William flatly.
“Shut up,” Branwyn muttered absently, turning away and further working the silver between her fingers. She’d use the hammer to finish the job. “Don’t convince me he’s right.”
“So now what?” demanded William, ignoring her advice. “Do we turn around and go home?”
“Mortal scruples,” said Severin happily. “Don’t you love them? The way they consistently put their enemies before their friends. It’s beautiful.”
Branwyn looked up. “What are you talking about? I’m very eager to meet the Queen of Stone.”
Acidly, William said, “You don’t think she’ll notice the missing orb in the gift chest? Or are you not planning on giving her anything at all? She’ll take that poorly, I promise, Lady.”
Branwyn’s gaze was caught by Severin’s again. This time, it was less traumatic. He looked like a child anticipating Christmas. Without even his mental voice, she knew his own thoughts toward the Queen of Stone weren’t friendly. And she knew he still considered her a means toward his ends.
She shook her head. He was playing her against them, and against herself, for his own purposes. She had to remember that.
“I can make another of those balls, then. Tarn said she’d want to meet the artisan who would make something of her Machine. Maybe she’d like a piece of art from me as well.” And she scooped up the powdered remains of the dorodango and went into her tent.
Infinity Key (Senyaza Series Book 2) Page 13