by S. C. Stokes
Sanders chimed in. “There was something I wanted to talk to you about. You see, Kasey, there is a vacancy on the Arcane Council. It appears the last head of the ADI was a dashing fugitive who lucked into a promotion. They made him Chancellor and now the ADI is in need of a new boss.”
Kasey shook her head. “Nope. No way. Not on your life.”
Sanders reached out. “You'll do great, come on.”
Kasey held up her hands. “Hell no. It's too much. The bureaucracy, the endless meetings, it would drive me mad. Besides, I spent so long running from the ADI that the thought of joining them, it just doesn’t feel right. It’s not me. I’d love to help, but I can't do that.”
There was a lilting laugh that carried through the ward. It seemed to be coming from the neighboring bed.
“I told you, Sanders, she’s never going to take your desk job,” a familiar voice said.
Kasey leaned over and ripped aside the curtain.
Her jaw dropped as she took in the occupant of the second bed. There, hidden beneath layers of bandages, was Hades.
“You don't look so happy to see me, Chase,” he said, his tone light-hearted. “I thought you'd be thrilled.”
Kasey shook off her surprise. “Don't get me wrong, it's good to see you, Hades, but I thought you were…”
“Dead? Pushing up daisies? Dearly departed?” Hades finished her sentence
“Yeah, I dunno about dearly, but the rest of them.”
“Ouch. I see what you mean, Sanders. No mercy at all,” he replied, looking at Noah.
Kasey shook her head.
“How did you survive?” she asked.
Hades smiled. “Sometimes you just get lucky. Zryx put three in my back. The vest took two of them, but the third got through, so when I went down, I played dead. When the surviving agents mopped up the traitors, they managed to get me out and stabilized before I bled out. I’m lucky to be alive.”
“Ewww,” Kasey teased. “Owing your life to the ADI, that has to be a bitter pill to swallow for the king of the underworld.”
Hades recoiled as if stung. “Oh? If I recall correctly, I saved all of you just this morning. Those Night Crew chaps were trying to blow your poor station to hell. As far as I can see, we’re completely even. Besides, if you aren’t going to work for the ADI, you could always come join me. I'm in need of a new lieutenant. Some rambunctious young woman barbecued the last one.”
“She had it coming,” Kasey replied. “Thanks for the offer, but no deal. I may have had a dalliance with the dark side, but I prefer being on this side of the law.”
Hades shrugged. “Well, you can't blame a man for trying.”
Sanders cleared his throat. “Okay, Kasey, final offer. I’ll create a new unit, the Arcane Alliance. Entirely independent of the ADI infrastructure, its mandate will be to hunt down extraordinary threats to our community. With the Council decimated, I'm sure there will be others who will want to prey on our perceived weakness. I would have you lead the charge in our defense.”
Kasey nodded. “The Arcane Alliance, I like the sound of that. Extraordinary threats, you say? I'm imagining that the Brotherhood would fall inside those parameters?”
Sanders smiled. “You never quit, do you?”
Kasey slowly shook her head, “I don't know how.”
Sanders laughed. “Deal.”
She reached forward and clasped his right hand.
“You will have to resign from your work at the Ninth Precinct,” he said. “You'll be far too busy to be doing both.”
Kasey paused. “I don't suppose you'll break the news to Bishop?”
“Bishop?” Sanders raised his eyebrows. “Not on your life. She terrifies me.”
“You big chicken.” Kasey laughed as she sank back into the chair.
Everything was changing so quickly, but for the first time, she felt like she was choosing her own path, rather than having it thrust upon her. It felt good.
“Another good one bites the dust.” Hades sighed, rearranging his pillow.
For the first time since she was twelve years old, Kasey looked to the future and saw promise.
THE END
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A Note From S.C. Stokes
Fellow Fantasy Fans,
I hope you got a thrill out of Until My Dying Day. I loved every part of it. From the cover to the break-neck pace it was both a challenge and a delight to write. I hope you felt it a satisfying conclusion to this particular adventure.
The Shinigami are vanquished, and New York is safe. At least for the time being. Don’t worry there are plenty of adventures remaining for Kasey. The Brotherhood remain, while their agenda is not yet known, we know that their members included both the ancient necromancer, Akihiro and Arthur Ainslie, Former Chancellor of the Arcane Council.
I also have a number of ideas for other series set in this universe that are just demanding to be written.
I hope you are ready for them.
Until next time!
S. C. Stokes
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“Oh yes, Durales told me about your little trick with the fire,” the slaver answered. “Unfortunately for you, those chains were forged by dwarven folk with a talent for rune work. You aren’t the first magician we’ve bound, and I’m sure you won’t be the last. Save your strength, you’ll need it for the slave pits. Don't worry, if Eleen blesses our voyage, we’ll be there in less than a month.”
Syrion could not contain himself. Despite the pain, he burst out laughing so hard that he staggered in his cell. The slavers looked on in slack-jawed amazement; in all their years they had seen newly captured prizes react to their lower station in many ways: fear, anger, uncontrollable weeping, they had even been spurned and spat upon. Never had they been laughed at.
The first mate Durales turned to the captain: “Perhaps I hit him too hard and he’s gone mad. It’s happened before.”
“It’s possible,” the Captain mused. “Boy, what is so funny? Care to share it with the rest of us?”
Syrion endeavored to compose himself but contented himself with getting out a few syllables between bursts of laughter. “You said Eleen . . . bless our voyage,”
Durales began nodding, content that his assessment was correct, and Syrion had indeed been rendered witless by the blow to his head.
“I did,” replied the captain. “Pray tell, why is that so funny?”
Syrion answered, his countenance slowly changing from mirth to menace: “It’s just the goddess whose name you invoked, you called her Eleen, the Patron Saint of Sailors, right? Mistress of the Wind, Soul of the Storm and the embodiment of Nature’s Wrath— that Eleen, right?”
“Aye, one and the same, boy. Still doesn’t explain the laughter.” The captain grunted.
Syrion met his captor's gaze, “Her name is rendered differently by the Valaar. They call her Elaina, and she is my mother. When she discovers I am missing and tracks me to this ship, your blessed voyage is going to come to a world-shattering end.”
Get lost in this brand-new world, pick up your copy of A Coronation of Kings here.
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S C Stokes, Until My Dying Day