Magic and Mayhem: A Collection of 21 Fantasy Novels

by Jasmine Walt

  I’ve just shoved a green plastic bag with peanut butter marked on it into my bag when I hear more sirens.

  I take off away from the house, toward the tree line, and away from Lo’s remains forever.

  27

  Someone is shaking me awake. My eyes shoot open, and Kiwi is staring down at me with a frown.

  “What?” I throw my arm over my face so she can’t look at me.

  “Who the hell is Lo Lo?” Her voice is light with a sharp edge underneath.

  I sit up and avoid her gaze.

  I notice the tank has stopped.

  “Where are we?” I ask, deciding to avoid her question, and her gaze, for as long as I can.

  “About thirty miles from the crossroads,” she says, the incarnation of dread wrapped around her tone.

  That dread is contagious. I feel it in the pit of my stomach. My now pounding temples. Every inch of muscle in my body.

  “Why are we stopping?” I ask.

  Juliet gets out of the driver seat and heads for the hatch. “Bathroom break. Whatever we meet out there is going to be vicious. I don’t want anyone pissing their pants.” She flips her hair, bends over to open the hatch, and disappears through it.

  I narrow my eyes. “I’m going to enjoy the shit out of killing her.”

  I’m not looking at Kiwi, but I can feel her gaze on me.

  “Who is Lo Lo?”

  I force a laugh. “I’m about to die, and all you’re worried about who Lo Lo is?”

  I can feel her still looking at me.

  I stand up and say, “I’ve gotta piss.”

  Then, I duck through the hatch. I can feel her almost at my heels. I walk a few paces away from the tank, whip my dick out and let and stream flow. She stands beside me.

  I glance at her. “Do you mind?”

  She folds her arms over her chest and just glares.

  Apparently she does.

  Her standing there, watching me piss, makes it harder to empty my bladder. Finally, I sigh, and look up at the dark sky. It’s the first time I notice we’re surrounded by darkness. Unnatural darkness. Seeing as how we left at the ass crack of dawn and haven’t been on the road long enough for it to be dark, the creeps run up my spine.

  Another trick of the gods.

  I’ve always heard it’s darker the closer you get to the crossroads. I don’t want to think of that, so I answer Kiwi.

  “An old friend,” I say. “She died before I was captured by the C6 Enforcers.”

  I shake out the rest and tuck myself away, then turn to face her.

  “Actually, she was murdered.” I don’t add by your sisters, who I killed soon after. Stuff like that never helps a relationship, if that’s what this is. I sigh. “I need to talk to you.”

  She stares at me for several seconds, then nods. “I have to pee first.”

  I nod as her feet shuffle off.

  I stand there while Juliet calls out, “Five minutes!”

  The sound of clambering into the tank follows. I roll my eyes.

  “Kiss my natural black ass,” I say under my breath.

  I tap my foot, waiting for Kiwi to come back, trying not to feel swallowed by the surrounding darkness. Purple streaks that look like they were painted in the sky by jets stretch across the inky darkness. And there is no sound.

  Something I just notice. Except the foot shuffles coming from Kiwi and sounds echoing from inside of the tank there is nothing. No birds. No crickets. No wind.

  Darkness and silence.

  I swallow as Kiwi comes walking back up to me. I can’t think about that now. I have to convince her to give up on her sister’s murderers. Sadie’s life depends on it. I don’t know why, but my gut tells me to trust XJ. So that’s what I’m going to do.

  I take Kiwi’s hands and bring them to my chest.

  Her eyes widen

  “What’s going on, Pike?”

  I close my eyes. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to express how desperate I am for her to agree with what I’m about to ask. My momma’s words come flooding back to me.

  Just do it.

  I sink to my knees and peer up at her. Her features distort into a worried mask.

  “Pike, what the hell?”

  “Kiwi. I need you to do me a favor. And it’s more than I deserve, and it’s too much to ask of you. But, I need you to do this.” My voice cracks.

  Her eyebrows furrow. “What is it?”

  “I need you to give up this hunt for your sisters’ killer.”

  She rips her hands away from mine and backs away. “Why the hell would I do that?”

  I scoot forward on my knees and reach for her hands again. I decide to be as honest as I can.

  “You remember the witch at the haven? XJ?”

  She nods.

  “She says that Sadie is going to need you. And I believe her. I need you to go back to Compound Six and look after her, and you can’t do that… You can’t do that if you’re dead.”

  She stares down at me for what seems like a forever stretch of time. My gut twists. I’m afraid she’s about to say no. I can see it in her face, so I offer her more truth before she can refuse me.

  “And I can’t do this… If I know you’re going to be dead. I need you alive, or I can’t…” I drop her hands and look at the black soil.

  I shake my head. The weight of my futile plea sinks into my shoulders. They droop. I start to shake.

  Her fingers dug into my hair, and she pulls me close.

  “Pike, I don’t know what to say.”

  I nod, without looking back up at her. She’s going to say no. It takes everything in me to look back up into her face. I’m surprised to find warm sympathy there. I take one more shot.

  “I need you, Kiwi. I need you to do this.”

  Her eyes water. She blinks back the tears before they roll down her face. “Does this mean… Does this mean that you don’t plan on making it back?”

  I go with even more truth. I shake my head, and she gasps. I quickly stand and pull her toward me. She has to say yes.

  She has to.

  “At least not right away. But I will find my way back to both of you. I just need you to do this. I’ve never needed anyone more than I need you right now.”

  And it’s true.

  I didn’t think I’d ever need Kiwi Grunder, but I do.

  She has to say yes.

  She lets me hold her for a while. Juliet is shouting something that we both ignore. We just stand there, gripped around each other tight, waiting for her decision.

  She finally says something that I can’t understand because her lips are pressed against my chest.

  I pull away. “What?”

  My heart stops, waiting for her answer in order to beat again.

  “When you make it back to us, will you help me find my sisters’ killer?”

  I close my eyes, the weight of her decision floating away from my shoulders and into the impossibly dark sky. I’m still holding weight, though. She wants me to help her find me. Can I do that?

  As I open my eyes, I nod, giving her another bit of truth. A truth I know I’ll regret as soon as I have to deliver.

  “Yes, we’ll find them together,” I say.

  She half smiles and hugs me. “Then I’ll give it up, for now.”

  I don’t know what to say. There is nothing to say. I’ve never been more wrong about a person in all my life. Because I can’t think of anything to say, I pull her up into my arms and press my lips to hers.

  Juliet is still yelling. We continue to ignore her.

  There’s this bitch I sometimes hate. I like to call her time. As soon as we pile back into the tank to close the gap between us and the crossroads, she starts messing with me. It’s nothing new. She’s always doing this to me. The first time I got some, time speed up. It also got me a nick name, Five Minute Pike.

  My last few moments with Sadie, she sped up again. In a moment I wanted to last as long as possible, time rejected my wish. It’s
only now, as I ride toward my death. Toward the god that made, then cursed me, she gives me my wish. Only, it’s the wrong situation. The wrong time for time to go so fast.

  It seems like we made the forty-five miles to the crossroads in record time. In seconds, not minutes. And, as our surroundings grow darker and quieter, all I can hear is time, laughing her ass off at me.

  In the silence I almost hear her whisper, it’s time.

  28

  We come to a stop. The silence in the tank is filled with a hardness I can break a window with. We all sit there for several moments. Me, trying to swallow my terror.

  I have to do this.

  “You’ll go out first to open the crossroads…” Juliet says.

  “We can’t let him go out there himself!” Kiwi says, a bite in her voice.

  Juliet stares at her. “We went over this plan at the compound. I need you to stick to the plan. Can you do that?” She flips her hair.

  Kiwi’s eyes narrow. A red spark goes off in them, I reach for her arm and squeeze. “She’s right. They won’t open for anyone but a siren. If the gods sense your presence, we came out here for nothing.”

  She bites her lip. It’s sexy. I kind wish we had time for one more bang, but like I said, time is a bitch. At least nasty thoughts keep me from terrified ones.

  “So, Pike will go out first,” Juliet repeats. “Open the crossroads. Soon as you summon Apollo, we’ll show ourselves.”

  Hearing his name sets me ablaze. The bastard. The king of Muses. Total asshole. Cursed his own creations, beings meant to be bringers of light and creativity, to get out of a grudge with some bitchwax goddess. But that’s a tale for another time. Right now, I have to get ready.

  As I reach for my guitar, my trident, and my sidearm—not that it will help—I say, “You know you never told us the rest of the plan. You make yourselves known, then what?”

  Juliet shakes her head. “All you need to know of the plan is your part.”

  I strap my trident across my back and rest my guitar against my shoulder. I stare at her, but she gives nothing away. I have a feeling the plan is to offer me up for the cure.

  Not that I’m valuable.

  But then again, there might be something I don’t know.

  I take in a deep breath, peering out into the darkness. My heart beats like a mad masturbator. I try to regulate my breathing. It doesn’t work.

  Kiwi rubs my shoulder. “You should really get going, Pike.”

  I nod. Usually that comment would piss me off, but I’m too scared shitless for anger.

  The brave hero that’s going to save the world.

  As I make my way to the hatch, Kiwi grabs my hand and I glance back at her. The look on her face doesn’t help. It says, don’t go. It says, we’ll never see each other again. I force her expression out, and I picture Sadie. Before all this. Ribbons braided into her hair, flipping through the air, landing on the ice.

  That image gives me some of my nuts back.

  I squeeze Kiwi’s hands. I don’t say anything, because I don’t want to lie. Not more than I already am. Then, I duck through the hatch and step out into nothingness.

  I can’t see. The silence from before has become total. Absolute, like an equation for fear. There is no light from the moon. There is no moon. The only thing I can do is smell salt in the air wafting in from what used to be Virginia Beach. But I don’t hear the waves crashing to the shore. And I can’t see the ocean from here.

  I take in a deep breath and trudge forward. Toward what? I don’t know. I’m following intuition, hoping to get lucky. My hands are held in front of me like a blind man traipsing through the unknown. After several moments of walking, movement gets harder. It feels like I’m trudging through thick mud. With a grunt of effort, I try to keep moving. Eventually, I have to reach down with my hands and move my legs like I’m a big, black Ken doll. The longer this goes on, the harder it is to move. Soon, I come to a total stop. I peer up at the blank sky and grunt, trying to move my legs.

  It’s a no go.

  That’s when I hear the first hint of sound.

  A low hum, like the buzz of fluorescent lights flicking on. I dart my head around, but I see nothing. I reach down and try to pull my legs free from whatever I’m stuck in, when I hear it again. This time it is louder.

  Closer.

  I remove my trident and pose for a fight, as much as I can with my useless legs. A shock of pure, golden bolt strikes the air like lightening. I close my eyes to protect my vision. I can see the glare through my eyelids. A mix of reddish, golden light. The buzz hums louder. A horde of mad hornets.

  Slowly, I open my eyes and gasp. Stretched out before me are two intersecting, golden lines. They blaze golden. Pulse with life.

  My breathing thickens, becomes in tune with those pulsing lines. In the center of those lines is a golden statue. He holds a golden lyre in his left hand, and a crown of laurel frames his head.

  Apollo.

  Even though I’ve never seen this, I know what it is. Why I can’t move.

  This is the crossroads.

  This is where I’ve come to die, or worse.

  When I try to look directly at the statue, a weight presses down on me. Forces me to avert my eyes. The air around me is harder to breathe in. It’s like I’m standing under some pressurized system.

  Like my skin is about to get ripped off.

  I suck in as much air as I can and, moving like a wooden doll, twist my guitar so that it’s in front of me. I grit my teeth from the effort. When I’m finally able to place my hands on the strings, I let my power flow out of me and into my weapon.

  Gip pulses with it, almost vibrates out of my hands. When it’s fully charged, it stops and I almost smile. The power always makes me a little giddy. Then, I start plucking a tune that I never learned, but has always been in my blood.

  It’s intricate. Elegant. And sets me on fire with lust.

  A paean. A hymn to the motherfucker that created me with a thought.

  As the music dies down, the air grows thinner. It’s easier to breathe. I can move. I walk along the pulsing lines of light, my skin buzzing with power. I sling the guitar back against my shoulder. Rumbling fills the air. The earth starts to quake as the statue of Apollo slowly twirls until its facing me.

  I pause for the briefest second before moving forward. They are letting me in, I have gained access to the crossroads. Now comes the hard part. I’m about to signal for Juliet and Kiwi to come out and meet me when a short figure walks out from behind the statue.

  She wears a white hood and is pulsing with that same blinding, golden light. She stares at me with a wicked half smile on her cherry lips.

  The air leaves my lungs and I fall to my knees. My head bows like I’m worshipping on Sunday with my momma. Only, I’m not in control of my movements.

  She is.

  And she isn’t Apollo.

  Fear presses against me. I have no idea what’s going on. I can’t see her, but I can feel her walking toward me. The closer she gets, the more out of control I feel.

  Have to signal Juliet and Kiwi.

  Have to signal.

  Have to…

  Sweat drops down my brow, and just like that I forget what I’m supposed to do.

  “Pike Richards,” a female voice says.

  Her voice is like pine needles in my ears. Hard to listen to. Hard to focus. I feel a hand under my chin. She raises my head and stares at me with unnatural eyes.

  Golden and red, swirling to the center of her eye, blending into ocean blue. They are beyond hypnotic. I feel my mind bending, pulling me out. Pushing something else in.

  “I didn’t think you would make it,” she says.

  It’s pain itself to focus on her voice. The only reason I can look at her is because she’s in a different form. A child’s form, the easy on the eyes form for a god or goddess to take.

  “Many of my brother’s enemies didn’t want you to make it. They knew what we know. That you can change th
ings.”

  I open my mouth to speak, even though I know nothing will come out. Not until she allows it. She turns around and gazes toward the statue.

  “You really are quite lucky I arrived before you. The gods meant all manner of things to be here. Grogans, dragons, lamias, nasty beasts! Most of them would have succeeded, I’m afraid.”

  I scrunch my face up. The longer I have to listen to her speak, the more it feels like rusty nails are biting into my skull. I want to bring my hands up to cover my ears, but I’m stuck bowing like a little bitch.

  She turns and frowns. “Is something wrong, dear?”

  I grit my teeth, try to shake my head. Nothing.

  “Oh! I wasn’t thinking. The power coming from you is unlike anything I’ve ever seen from a siren. My apologies.” She waves her hand across her throat. A brilliant, golden spark ignites. “Is that better?”

  Her voice sounds normal now. No more pain. I still can’t move, but it’s progress. She raises a sculpted eyebrow at me when I don’t respond.

  “Sorry, again. It’s been awhile since I’ve been around a descendent.” She raises her hand through the air, and I stand with it.

  Without looking directly at her, I wipe the sweat from my brow and clear my throat.

  “Yes, it’s better,” I say. “Thank you.”

  She smiles. It’s almost as blinding as the golden light cast all around us.

  “So polite.” She saunters over to me. Runs a finger down my forearm. “Such a nice specimen.”

  I shiver. It feels like she hit me in the face with a big bag of the creeps. She’s beautiful, sure. Almost all of them are. But she looks like a beautiful child. She pulls her hand away and I breathe relief.

  She laughs. The sound is the loveliest thing to hit my ears in I can’t remember how long.

  “This form bothers you?”

  I open my mouth, then hesitate. It never ends well to insult a goddess. Or to make her think you’re insulting her.

  I clear my throat again. “I’m sorry, but who are you?”

  She frowns. “You, of all people, should recognize me.”