by JK Cooper
An impossibly fit boy walked through the few trickling streams of survivors. This boy was wearing a tactical vest with bulging pockets. He pulled out a candy bar and began eating. “Oh, there’s bout to be more where that came from, ugly.”
Wolves darted into the room, several wearing Fae armor.
“What in the Unseely Court is happening?” Theo said.
One of the Lycans shifted, the armor hugging her transforming body. Theo watched as her amber eyes turned green and then flashed red as a scythe appeared in her hand. Theo’s mouth went dry. It’s her!
Athena staggered, choking on the cold, poisonous air.
Ptyas came to her aid. Put on the helm and breathe through your nose.
She followed his counsel. Fresh, clean air flowed into her nostrils from the alien metal. “Clever.” She choked again as she breathed in through her mouth after speaking. Teach me not to be a mouth breather.
The Fae woman waited for her, a smirk on her lips.
“You could have warned me!” Athena said.
“Where’s the fun in that? It is part of my nature to be evasive and misleading. Would you have me break Fae tradition for your miserable comfort?”
Athena let the myriad replies fall from her lips, though they did play out in an internal rant about what she’d like to do with Fae tradition in respect to the woman’s perfect backside.
Wow, that last one was . . . colorful. Ptyas sounded breathless.
Not used to hearing a modern woman speak her mind, eh, old man?
I’m just glad it was reserved for only my ears, and not our host. We need her.
Athena sucked a long breath in through her nose. Fine. “I wouldn’t dream of encouraging you to break your law. Will you kindly lead on?”
The woman cocked her head to the side in an alien way. Her bones did not align exactly the same way as human bones. “Cordiality? With fire in her eyes? You might have made a decent member of Unseely Court . . . with a few decades of training.”
Athena felt her eyes sting and lip begin to curl.
Athena, Ptyas warned.
She swallowed her anger. “Tha . . . that’s nice of you to say.”
“Your human proclivity toward those words is a hard habit to break.”
Athena smiled as she mused over how true the Fae view of human gratitude might be. “It really is. But I want to keep my eyes, so . . . ”
The Fae shrugged as she spun. “Tongues are fun too.” She wandered out into the desolate landscape, toward a black peak that jutted out of the ash and sand. “Come, before any demons note our arrival.”
Athena rubbed the grit in her mouth with her tongue. Yeah, I want to keep that too.
Then maybe keep it inside your mouth? Ptyas suggested.
Nice.
She followed the Fae into the icy whipping winds. It was colder than she expected from the image she’d seen before stepping through the portal. Her armored feet crunched through rime on the sandy soil. Hell had frozen over.
It took half an hour to reach the mountain. Athena’s tongue was held in check, though mainly from her desperate breathing through her nose. The air was thin and lacking in oxygen, even after magically filtered and enhanced by her helm. Despite the nuclear winter on Alsvoira, the hike had Athena dripping with sweat inside her armor. She was grateful for the warmth though. She thought she’d be shivering without it. I’d have to go wolf to stay warm.
That might not have been enough either, Ptyas replied. It’s colder than it seems. Fae control entropy. Our guide is holding warmer air around us.
That’s convenient and kind of nice.
I assume it’s mainly for her benefit.
Athena noticed steam rising from her arms. What’s that?
Your armor releasing the moisture. Otherwise, you’d be swimming by now.
How does it know to do these things? Programming?
Ptyas laughed. It has a heart of living fire. It is alive.
Athena eyed the glowing red lines of her armor again, watching them pulse, much like a heartbeat. Can it hear me?
Of course. How do you think it appears and disappears at will?
Great, another listener. At least it doesn’t chime in every few seconds.
Ptyas said nothing, making Athena laugh out loud and then choke again.
The Fae glanced back, arched one perfect eyebrow, and then went back to climbing the trail. Drifts of ash covered the path for long stretches, but the woman didn’t seem to need the visual to know where they were heading.
“Where are we going, if you don’t mind me asking?” Athena decided to break the silence, despite her voice coming out thinner and weaker than she liked.
The Fae woman said nothing, but pointed one pale, slender finger upward.
Athena followed the gesture to a dark hole in the side of the mountain. A cave.
The cave was not warmer than the outside, but it did offer an escape from the winds that whipped ash into their faces. The Fae pulled a glass globe from somewhere and tapped it to release light. She held it on her palm as they walked deeper into the cavern.
Athena held her tongue. There was a sacred feeling to the place that even she dared not disturb. Ageless carvings illuminated by magic lined the halls. This was the original Underhill, the home of the Fae before they had to abandon it for Earth.
Athena tripped over something as she tried to make out a set of carvings that depicted what looked vaguely like a dragon swallowing a sun while serpents swam around it in the starry sky.
She caught herself and glanced down to see a piece of obsidian. She picked it up, the glass scraping against stone with a distinct ring.
“You should leave the dead be.” The Fae woman spoke without looking back.
“What?”
“The demon bone in your hand. It is unwise to disturb them. Who knows what might draw the attention of their kind and bring them back to this place?”
Athena examined the obsidian closer, there were bits of red clinging to one end. “Bone?”
Those red bits are tendons, Ptyas added.
Athena dropped it, half expecting it to shatter, but the demon glass was stronger than it looked. Instead, it bounced against stone with a clang that echoed through the abandoned halls. “Sorry.”
“No apologies necessary, of course.” Oh, how Athena hated the woman’s prissy smirk. “Just know the bones will become more frequent as we near our destination,” the Fae woman said.
Athena noticed shadowed mounds everywhere, now that she knew what to look for, glass bones gleaming under the leathery remnants of skin. She kept an eye on them, wondering if one might just be a slumbering demon waiting for just such an intrusion into their tomb. “Why are there no other bones? Didn’t Fae die here too? Was it too long ago for any to remain?”
The woman stopped, and Athena almost ran into her. “We placed a few small spells on the entry after the demons departed to keep the ash outside from entering what remained of our home, to keep the winds from burying this place forever.”
Athena kicked at a pile of ash. “Must be broken. There’s a ton of ash in here.”
“The spells were unbroken when we arrived. It is why I am certain no demons lay in wait.”
“Then all the ash came from before you placed the spells?” Athena asked.
The Fae woman shook her head. “We do not leave bones behind when we die.”
Athena started to speak, but bit her tongue. She looked down at the pile of ash she had kicked. “Oh.”
She avoided stepping on obsidian and ash from then on, at least until they reached a chamber that was too full of demon bones and ash to avoid. Even the Fae woman waded through it, tipping piles of glass to roll over one another with macabre music. Athena debated bringing a few bones back to make wind chimes.
She almost ran into the back of her guide as she debated the logistics of such a creation. “What?”
“We have arrived, as far as I can take you anyway.”
“So, we just wai
t?” Athena resisted the urge to kick another pile of ash.
“Correct.” The Fae gestured. “Unless you want to try what the demons failed to do?”
Athena looked at the wall ahead. There were hundreds of demon bones fused with the stone, gaping black skulls half buried, rib cages jutting beneath those, obsidian vertebra dangling. “What happened to them?”
“They tried to phase through the wall, but it was thickened from within by a hundred Fae weaving spells to protect the last pool of sentient flame.” The woman held a finger against her forehead and bowed. “Their sacrifice saved something irreplaceable.”
Athena touched the wall with a gauntlet. “They sealed themselves in?”
“It was the only way.”
“And you haven’t opened it since? What if the fire has gone out?”
The Fae rolled her large eyes. “Of course we’ve opened it since. We’ve made arrows and armor and wisps, but we are careful and selective so as not to draw attention to a part of Alsvoira the demons have left behind. And only one of the royals can open the doorway.”
“Why the hells, including Alsvoira in that list, didn’t the king come then?”
The Fae woman whirled on Athena. “You forget yourself. It is not your place to question his logic.”
“Logic? I haven’t seen much of that from your kind so far, Miss Elf.”
“Miss Elf?” Her large eyes narrowed. “What is my name?”
Athena’s mouth fell open. “Your name?”
“I gave it to you at the beginning of our journey. Have you forgotten it already?”
“What does it matter?”
The woman ran a finger over the glass globe. “It matters to me.”
Athena thought. Kiera? Keena? It was a K name, right? You remember, Ptyas?
I remember everything.
Then what is it?
He said nothing more.
You stubborn son of a–
A silver dagger pegged into the wall next to Athena’s face, the sharp metal sinking inches into the stone. She spun, her scythe warm in her hand. “That was a mistake, whatever your name is.”
“The pretentiousness of you humans.”
“I’m Lycan!” Athena darted forward, partially shifting her legs to propel her at breakneck speed. Her scythe slashed through the air, the twin blades whistling. And they hit nothing.
The Fae had taken one step to the side a fraction of a second before the blade could find its home in her neck. She smiled as the razor edges slid an inch from her nose and punched Athena in the ribs.
Athena felt as if she’d been hit by a truck, the force sending her flying against a pillar hard enough to crack stone. Her ribs and spine didn’t fare better, even with the protection of magical armor.
She slid down the pillar and crumpled to the floor, her vision darkening with pain and lack of oxygen. She’d need at least a minute or two to heal that kind of damage in this environment.
The Fae woman stood over her, kicked her once, breaking an ankle. “I was told to stay with you as long as I felt comfortable doing so. That time has passed. Here.” She tossed a handful of silver packets at Athena’s prone body, spun on a heel, and walked away, taking the light with her.
Her name was Keanierah. She is part of the Cereus family.
Athena winced as she slid herself into a more comfortable position. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?!
You are accustomed to winning. It is good for you to learn a touch of humility. You constantly assume you are the smartest, strongest, most capable. You underestimate everyone else. You won’t always be the most powerful being in the room.
Okay, thanks Yoda. I could have taken her.
He laughed long and hard inside her head. No, she could have defeated you without touching you. I told you the Fae control entropy. She could have encouraged every oxygen molecule in this room to choose the unlikely position next to her and watched you suffocate.
Athena sat in silence, letting her eyes adjust to the new levels of light, most coming from her armor. Her bones knitted together and a punctured lung healed. Okay, lesson learned.
I hope so, young Padawan.
Wait, you actually knew that Star Wars’ reference?
Chewbacca was always my favorite. Felt like a distant cousin.
How did a Feral barely in control of his wolf body sneak into a movie theater?
Drive-ins, naturally.
Shelby shifted and brought her scythe into existence. Her armor and blade held together well now that the demon was focused on other magic. Bubba sent a trash can at the beast’s face while a blue ball of fire, leaking spurts of orange, distracted it.
Where did that come from? Shelby asked Eira. Bryanne? The Wiccans?
It’s Fae, Eira replied. There must be one here, and not just any Fae can have a wisp.
The Lycan pack formed a circle around the demon, but no one was venturing close. Kale had instructed them to only engage if necessary. The fighting was reserved for those he thought could do the most damage.
He means me, Shelby thought. My blade is the only thing we’ve seen do anything.
She jumped over the nearest Lycan, her legs half shifting without a thought. It had become natural, instinctive. She landed and sprinted toward the monster, slashing at hamstrings while it focused on Bubba and the wisp.
I don’t even know if it has hamstrings.
Regardless, her scythe didn’t cut deep enough to cut tendons. It still bellowed, turning faster than Shelby expected. It swung a massive claw, spikes sprouting from its wrist and elbow.
Shelby dodged, knowing she wasn’t fast enough, but jaws clamped down on the demon forearm. Kale had come to her aid.
The demon shook him off, sending his massive form tumbling into several Lycans like they were bowling pins. A hunk of metal flew past Shelby’s face and slammed into the red, scaly skin of the demonic chest. It barely reacted to something that would have killed any human and many a Lycan, brushing metallic shards from its skin while eyeing Shelby.
She staggered back as her Omega gift gave her insight into the monster. So much hate, pain, resentment, and anger inside the creature, it overwhelmed her. With this came glimpses of brutal battles to the death while demons cheered the carnage, worlds on fire, and an inhuman face that, despite the horrific monstrosity of it, reminded her of the Goddess.
The images blinded Shelby but she felt the floor shudder as the demon stepped toward her.
Gold whips wrapped around its neck, but it still advanced, hissing out something in its vile language before opening its maw wide, revealing rows of sharp black teeth and a green tongue.
“It said something about a rare magic in you, something broken.” Bryanne tugged hard on the whip, but she slid on the sweat slicked concrete floor. “Don’t let it near you.”
Shelby screamed. The shreds of her bond with Kale burned within her, like someone had set her nerve endings on fire. She heard him scream as well. He’d extricated himself from the pile of Lycans and was nearly at her side. They both fell, her to her knees and Kale to his side as a wolf.
The hollow feeling she’d come to associate with the broken bond became an endless void of pain and despair. The pieces of it ripped away from her soul one by one, leaving her empty, alone, shattered. There was nothing she could do.
Part of her could still see the demon advancing. The wisp was falling apart, spurting flames from several holes in its shell of blue fire. Bubba had stopped to eat a bar, his skin loose on thinning muscles. Lycans were being thrown from arms and legs as the demon stepped closer, swatting them away like pesky flies.
Another part of her welcomed the coming death. She would be forever alone, a broken thing, after it had finished taking what was left of Kale from her. She held her arms out in an embrace.
The wisp spun a jet of flame into the open mouth, melting teeth and sizzling saliva away into steam. A net of golden light was forming on its jaw at the same time. The net knit together and pulled the maw shut.
>
“It’s about time someone muzzled that nasty hole.”
Shelby came back to herself, her soul scarred, but intact. She glanced back, expecting to find Bryanne, but it was Chelsea, the banshee herself, hands held in an intricate pattern, her mouth moving in chants. She was saving Shelby.
Bryanne had one vine-like whip around the demon’s neck still and another wrapped around the wing. She staked one into the ground with a mallet and a spike that looked like they were hewn from gnarled wood. Rivulets of golden light flared from the seams of the magical wood. A stalk of wheat appeared in a hand and transformed into another stake to tie the second whip to the ground.
Chelsea looked down pointedly at Shelby and then nodded toward the demon. “Want to do something about that? I can feel it absorbing my magic, slower than it has been, but still.” One of the strings of golden light snapped as though to punctuate her point.
“Oh, yeah.” Shelby staggered to her feet, jumped, and slashed at the demon’s throat. She felt the vibration of her scythe cut deep against the beast’s hardened flesh, but the wound began healing as soon as she landed. The muzzle was dissolving, the magic from it fueling its healing. Then, an arrowhead sprouted out of its neck just below its gash. Then another and another.
She looked up to see a man with long white hair and large lavender eyes standing on the railing around the DJ’s booth holding a large bow. He pulled another arrow and nocked it, but held his fire as the demon growled something before toppling backward.
Is that the DJ?
“Bryanne, move!” Kale shouted.
The Bandruí dropped her magical aids and jumped to the side. From the ceiling, the demon free fell right onto one of Bryanne’s magical stakes, impaling itself through the chest. Concrete shattered as it hit the ground, sending chunks the size of basketballs high into the air and cracks shooting out from the epicenter of its meteoric crash. The scene appeared as though a bomb had just exploded.
Bryanne cried out. Shelby whirled, seeing her leg pinned—crushed—under the demon. Time seemed to slow as the chunks of concrete shrapnel reversed its upward flight and began to rain down. Bryanne covered her head in reflex. She had a small gash across her cheek, obviously from concrete debris.