by Lily Silver
“This looks like a good place to start,” Dan said. He pulled out a couple sticks of the explosives and started setting them around the stacked wooden crates. “Oh, damn it—I’m low on matches.” He shot a glance to Adrian, his question clear.
“I didn’t think of that,” her husband admitted. “How many matches do you have?”
Dan reached into his pocket and pulled out a small cardboard matchbox. He opened the lid. “About six or seven, sorry. I thought you were bringing them.”
Both men looked to Tara. She nodded. Her blue zaps were made from electric energy. They also produced enough heat to melt a tin can, if she concentrated enough.
“Let’s find the still room before we light these,” Adrian directed.
“This stuff is gonna be highly combustive, we won’t need to set off each stick. The explosions from the others will do that, plus the alcohol in the mixture. If we linger too long here after Tara starts firing zingers, we could be blasted to hell with the green juice.”
Dan had a point. The three of them looked at each other for a long moment before moving on to find the still room. They found it at the center of the building. It was a huge room with large cylindrical copper vats rising like vertical towers toward the ceiling and the glass skylight above. Tara counted sixteen of them, in four rows across and with four vats in each row.
The shadows grew, despite the skylight above that still revealed a perfect blue sky.
The men started tossing explosives at the base of the vats. They quickly discovered they didn’t have enough sticks for each vat.
“Shit,” Dan swore. “We should have brought more explosives.”
“Once this room goes the heat should ignite the rest of the building. As you pointed out, it’s highly flammable material,” Tara reminded them.
Loud screeches and the sound of a scuffle on the roof made them pause like deer in the headlights.
With a horrendous crash, Riley fell through the skylight above with a shower of glass descending around him. He rolled in the air, flapped his wings hard, creating a stiff breeze and then recovered at the last instant before he hit the concrete floor. “They’re here, ten of them by my count,” he warned and flew up and out of the building again to join his brother.
“Light the stills,” Adrian ordered. Dan struck a match and lit the fuses in the center row.
“Just light a couple sticks,” Tara shouted and sprinted down the hallway to the packaging room.
The sounds of battle ensued above. Shouting, snarling and dark ones shrieking. Mick and Riley were trying to hold off the dark fey. It sounded like they needed help.
First, they had to destroy this building and the poisoned absinthe.
Once she arrived at her chosen target, she started shooting off energy balls. The wooden crates went up in flames and the long dynamite fuses started to glow. She aimed at the wooden legs of the tables with all those bottles ready to be packed in crates, and then turned to ignite an interior wall with a cluster of notes and announcements tacked onto it. The paper lit up instantly from her charge and started to curl and blacken as the flames licked up the wall. She glanced back at the table, and was pleased to see the wooden legs engulfed in greedy orange flames. It wouldn’t be long before the table top started to burn, and then the bottles would explode.
“Get out, now,” Adrian ordered, grabbing her upper arm from behind to make her do as he said. Dan was running behind them. “Outside, before the stills go up.”
They raced to the end of the hallway, toward the door they’d entered in the back.
Just as they arrived at their goal, a dark winged fey dropped down from the ceiling, blocking their exit. “Going somewhere, humans?”
Tara’s hands flew up in defense. She intended to shoot him with energy bolts.
Would it be enough?
It was one thing to scorch her brother’s shirt, emolliate a rat or melt a tin can—harming a large fey male would take a lot more energy. Focus, Tara, Focus on substantial energy.
A shot rang out as she hesitated. Adrian fired on the dark one, hitting him in the belly, not the heart. The thing shrieked and gasped, but still stood upright. The flesh surrounding the bullet wound ripped a hole in its gut was becoming streaked with black spider veins.
“What did you shoot it with?” she asked as she watched the creature founder.
Adrian pushed her aside. An arrow went flying into the thing’s heart. That made it shriek louder as it dropped to the floor clutching it’s impaled chest and the lead tipped arrow.
“Move, move, now!” Adrian pulled her past the fallen fey and pushed her through the door. Dan followed, shoving them along to reach safety.
“I used a silver bullet made from the sovereigns I brought here from the past.” Adrian explained in a breathless rush. “They’re outdated in the present, except for those who don’t know there is a difference in English coinage since 1815. I had our remaining sovereigns to cast into bullets of pure silver.”
The screeching above distracted them momentarily as they looked up above the factory. Mick and Riley were each grappling with a winged Darkling. Seven other dark fey males hovered in the air in a circle about them and were taunting them like schoolyard bullies.
“Dan, we must take them down from the ground. Our lads will never overcome them all.” Adrian raised his pistol and fired. His shot hit the wing of one of the creatures. It screeched and turned about to look down at them, as did the other fey males watching their companions fight Mick and Riley.
“Oh, shit,” Dan muttered, “now they see us.”
Chapter Thirty-One
A group of darklings descended from the sky as Tara and the men tried to clear the warehouse as it would blow any second.
Adrian and Dan fired at them again as they ran. Tara started hurling lightning balls. Their efforts only seemed to piss the wretched beings off, not repel them as the creatures dodged and feinted in the air to avoid their shots.
The sudden roar of flames made it impossible to hear Adrian’s warning shouts.
Heavy black smoke billowed up to shroud the battle above where her brothers fought in hand to hand combat to overcome their opponents.
“Run, damn it,” Adrian shouted, whether it was to her or Dan, she wasn’t sure.
Adrian was dragging Tara with him across the road and firing his pistol at the creatures flying out from the smoke behind them.
One dark fey fell from the sky and shrieked hideously as if in agony. It started thrashing like a wild beast caught in a trap. Gray foam emerged from its mouth as it hugged it’s bullet pierced chest with both hands and rolled on the ground as if it had been splashed with acid.
A massive sound of breaking metal combined with earth shuddering booms.
The copper stills full of Absinthe were exploding. The force of the blast sent them hurtling several feet into the field across the road as a hellish inferno of rushing smoke and gushing flames rose up in a sooty column to block out the sun.
Repetitive booms, like successive cannon fire, resounded continuously for several moments as the bottles blew, one by one. Louder booms emerged as bottles exploded together.
Odd smells choked the air—burning herbs from the storage room where bags of dried wormwood were kept, along with other dried plants, combined with that acrid smell of burning wood and paper. Lying on her belly, Tara lifted her head and stared at the burning plant, seeing black skeletal remnants of what had once been a building amid the devouring flames.
Stunned momentarily, Tara and Adrian remained flat on the ground in the tall grass with heads up, watched the violent inferno of flames and smoke that dwarfed them and the surrounding countryside. Surely people in Paris would see this and come to investigate?
Dan was several yards behind them, crouching on all fours near the road. He rose, brushed himself off and started to run to them. A soot covered fey landed on his back and pushed him to the earth. The beast hovered over him, wings spread, ready to strike a deadly blow.
Tara wrenched her wrist free of Adrian’s iron hand and fired at the malicious creature. Her energy bursts only stunned it, making it stop trying to hurt Dan, but she kept firing and letting her fury fuel her shots. It stood, staggered away, its blackened flesh zinging with neon blue energy as its wings started to catch fire. “Bastard,” she shouted, slamming it with another lightning ball. It fell and did not get up again.
Dan quickly rolled over onto his back and took out another one hovering above him with his rifle. He shot it three times in the heart as it descended from the sky to take it’s fallen comrade’s place atop him. He rolled quickly out of the way as it hit the ground, struggled to his feet and ran to join them in the high grass.
Adrian grabbed her arm as she instinctively tried to get up to go to Dan. “Get down.” His words came through tight lips. “If he’s running to us, he’s fine.”
Dan sank to one knee next to them and reloaded his rifle. He took aim and started shooting at their enemies. The remaining fey were experts at dodging gunfire. None of Dan’s bullets hit their target. Nor did the arrows Adrian fired find flesh to pierce. They were running out of ammunition by shooting into the air as the fey dipped and glided up gracefully like giant crows swarming a cornfield.
Tara stood again, and was about to let loose with more lightning bolts when she was seized from behind and lifted up into the sky.
“Tara … Tara!” She heard her husband’s voice shrieking from far below.
The terrifying memory of being seized thus as a child consumed her. Tara struggled to tamp down her panic as she wriggled and fought to be released by her captor.
The sound of thunderous wings followed them. “Let her go, you piece of shite or I’ll send you to hell.”
Hands grappled with her captor, and then Mick’s furious soot darkened face came into view beside her. The men were both gripping her with one hand and fighting with the other.
“A female, of the Irish Starling mound! We need females to breed,” her captor hissed.
“Over my burning body,” Mick reached up to gouge the eye of her captor.
Tara took that instant to summon lightning to gather around them.
The wind picked up and the air zinged and sizzled with electricity. Blue arcs streaked across the sky and shot toward them as a sensation of power replaced Tara’s terror.
“That’s it, lass.” Mick pushed his thumb into the Darkling’s eye. It flinched and let go of her to reach up to palm its wounded eye.
She started to fall but Mick’s hand seized her forearm in an iron grip, stopping her fall to earth. He’d broken away from their enemy at the last instant, just as arcs of lightning hit the dark one and sizzled over its body. The fey dropped like a great burning bird from the sky.
Another dark fey slammed into them and broke them apart. Tara was falling to the earth.
Mick shrieked as blue streams of energy surrounded him and trapped him within the churning, glowing ball of fire. Tara was born up again by clawed hands.
“Let go of me, you arrogant ass. I’ll hurt you!”
“You can try, little fey child. Try very hard. I like a struggle with my females, and I always win.” It was hideous as it stared down at her with glowing sapphire eyes and jagged teeth. The face before her was ancient, and thus, incredibly powerful.
“Try this, dickhead,” she fairly spat the words in his face and let her arms raise to the sky. She felt the power flowing through her as it had twice before, the searing, teeth numbing energy heralding a time-jump was about to ensue. Tara knew she had to take him somewhere else, fast. He was the leader of this tribe of miscreants, an ancient fey with strength beyond what her brothers or her human family could hope to overcome.
“I’ll enjoy taming you to my tastes, and getting you with child. We need breeders like you.”
His words revived her panic. Tara desperately tried to think of a place where he would not be a threat to her family. Adrian would die before he let this thing have her.
Massive explosions beneath them drowned out all sound. The skies roiled with angry storm clouds. Lightning crackled and sizzled around them.
The burning, electrifying sting over her teeth and skin told Tara they were jumping back to another time.
The old fey male snarled and growled as the lightning bolts snapped at his body from all sides, underscoring her fury. He dropped Tara as the lightning ignited his wings. His screeching filled her ears as he grabbed fistfuls of air to try to stop his fall.
People in a field below them scattered. She looked about, and tried to think of lying on that soft mound of plant cuttings they had piled high. The translocation worked. Her fall stopped and she was lying on the pile of pulled bean plants.
She knew this place. It was the Inca ruins, the ancient site where she’d spent a summer digging up bones and artifacts. But it wasn’t modern Peru. The temple in the distance was not in ruins. It looked fairly new as it rose up from the mists and vibrant green foliage.
Incan warriors emerged from a the far edges of the field, their gleaming spears held up to attack the winged intruder covered in soot who fell from the sky. The dark fey was slapping at his burning black wings, shrieking like a demon, unaware he was being rounded upon by warriors from another time.
A few brave laborers came to peer at her. They were simple farmers, perhaps slaves. Seeing she was human, they helped her down from the high pile of exhausted bean bushes they were stacking to set to the flame. They spoke in a language she couldn’t understand, but their gestures were not threatening.
The most god-awful cries came from further afield, as the warriors surrounded the dark fey with burning black wings and stabbed him repeatedly with their bronze tipped spears while others hacked at his body with gleaming copper hatchets.
Copper, one of the seven metals of alchemy! Mixed with tin, another pure metal element used in alchemy, it became bronze. She saw the dark one go down and not rise again.
Tara looked around as she realized her clothing was far too modern for this time period. She was in the ancient past, when Mesoamerican regions of central and south America were inhabited by millions of indigenous peoples. It was before the European explorers vanquished them. These laborers were wearing white woven skirts that went to the knee and crude sandals on their feet.
She removed the heavy wool cap and let her hair fall about her shoulders to reveal she was a woman. Startled gasps came from all around. They gazed at her with wonder, and one warrior who had joined them had the temerity to touch her hair and lift it in his palm with astonishment. Apparently red-haired women were not known in these parts.
The group of warriors jaunted over to look at her, having left a few men to guard the dying demon, or what they must believe was a demon in their culture.
Okay, now what do I do? She took a few deep breaths and thought through the possible scenarios. If she displayed magic, they might kill her, too. If she were meek and quiet, a little shaken and perhaps grateful for their intervention, she might survive this road trip unscathed.
The real trick was going to be getting back to Paris of May 24th, 1889.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The apartment was cold and gloomy without her.
Adrian sat at the table, his arms crossed akimbo on the lace tablecloth Gisele insisted must protect the wood. He stared at the uneaten steak and eggs Dan and Gisele made for him.
She was gone.
Not dead—at least they were hoping that was the case.
Mick believed Tara transported herself and the darkling leader into another time period whilst trying to throw off the dark fey commander who seized her.
Not dead, just lost in another time period, unable to return to their time.
What if she were wounded? Who would care for her?
“Your eggs are getting cold.” Dan was sitting beside him and eyeing his steak now that the man had finished his own.
Adrian shoved the plate in Dan’s direction and let his head drop to his cros
sed forearms.
“Try to think of it as Tara going off to visit a relative for a few days. She’ll come back to us, eventually. She’s smart, she’s—”
“Gone.” Adrian’s voice cracked when he said it. He lifted his head to glare at Dan through watery eyes. “It hardly matters if she’s stuck in another time, unable to come back to us. It doesn’t matter! She’s gone, Dan. To me, it’s as if she died.”
“We do not know if she’s hurt or injured. She could be dead, mon cher.” Gisele’s voice was like a sweet breeze to Adrian’s senses, even if she agreed with his bleak point of view.
“Not helping, my love,” The tension in Dan’s voice made his comment come out gruff.
“It’s been over a week,” Adrian retorted. “If she could come back to us, she would have.”
“A week is a short time,” Dan countered. “Don’t lose hope. Tara is a clever girl.”
He wanted to shout at the big ox to shut up. He wanted to scream, break something, hurl the silver coffee pot across the room and punch Dan in the teeth.
None of it would bring her back. None of it would make him feel any less hurt at this staggering loss. Losing Tara would forever burn in his heart and tear at his soul.
Adrian glanced around the room at the lovely furnishings, all done for her comfort. He glanced at the bedroom door, part of him expecting Tara to emerge from it.
Mick and Riley entered the apartment.
Dan rose and gestured for the brothers to join him at the window.
Adrian stared ahead, allowing them to whisper, not caring what they said. Gisele sat down where Dan had been, and put her hand on his arm. He looked at her, at her big blue eyes moist with tears, and the dam finally broke. He stopped fighting the tears. He dropped his head in his hands and wept like a wounded child.
“Can’t you do something?” He heard Dan’s voice carry from across the room. “Can’t you just mesmerize him, making him forget the pain?”