Forged by Greed

  Screams and gasps filled the scorching air. Tens of thousands of Shifters huddled together, frightened, but then everyone quickly straightened, appearing composed and determined. The faces of regular people took on the warriors’ look. The drone of an ancient song broke through the sudden silence. It was low and filled with anticipation. The Spirits of the Realm kept zooming between the double-natured like tiny balls of fire, their comet-like tails gleaming. Amber’s lilting voice filled in the air. She was chanting in the language never-spoken by humans.

  Jasmira felt someone clutching her arm. She turned around, and Penelope’s big grin was the first thing her eyes registered. The redhead threw herself onto Jasmira, hugging her fiercely. Hot churning air lifted their long hair, twirling it together, thick black curls and red straight strands, so different and so similar at the same time.

  “How did you find me? There are so many people here.” Jasmira detangled herself from her best friend, holding Penelope’s hands in hers.

  “I really don’t know. I think this enhancing ghost inside me prodded me in the right direction. She’s really something else.”

  “Ghost.” Jasmira laughed. “You mean, the ancient Spirit of the Realm?”

  “Freakin’ crazy, straight from ancient stand-up comedy.” Penelope grinned. “It makes me laugh, even when I’m scared to death. I guess, that’s her calming technique for me.”

  Jasmira couldn’t understand how her friend was able to joke in such intense, horrifying moment. Penelope seemed to notice her discomfort and added quickly, “Relax. She says… I mean, they don’t talk in words, just kinda send you thoughts. You know that. Anyway, she’s a real badass, just with an intense sense of humor.”

  Jasmira didn’t say anything, just kept staring at Penelope. She saw in her peripheral vision that the wall of fire was spinning even faster than before.

  “She says only a few of them—the Spirits, ghosts, whatever—keep a part of their personalities from real life. Like too much humor, or depressive thoughts, or anger.”

  “Anger?” Jasmira felt a pang of pain in her chest, remembering how angry Jatred was every time she talked to him lately.

  “Like the one that helped Jatred fight the Garhanan in the Winter Realm,” Penelope added somberly, as if reading Jasmira’s thoughts.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Erik told me that when they were entering the clearing in their Realm, just before the fight, he was the first to walk in. He saw the ball of light entering Jatred’s body. Nobody else saw it, because the rest of them filed in behind Erik. He didn’t say anything to anyone, until today, when I asked him about that fight.”

  “Did you guys know about the enhancing Spirits?” Jasmira asked incredulously.

  “Of course not. Erik didn’t know what that ball of fire was. But now, when I see the crazy ghosts in the Realm, I put two and two together. And my joker Spirit confirmed that.”

  “So the Spirits stay with you forever?”

  “No. Goddess forbid. That’s exactly what I asked her too. When they exit your body, they often leave a residue of that personality trait in you,” Penelope said. “Listen, my Spirit says we are going to the In-Between.”

  Jasmira wanted to tell Penelope about Amber’s plan to reunite her with Jatred, but the hum of the ancient song got louder. Amber’s chanting abruptly stopped, the last notes hanging in the scorching air. Both girls looked around and up. They saw the top of the blazing wall twist like a corkscrew, coiling into a funnel-like top. Series of silent lightning zigzagged in the tip of the funnel. And then a flash of white-hot light blinded them.

  CHAPTER 56

  In-Between the Realms. Date in Human World: November 19, midnight.

  “The Mahrasets!” Jatred heard Tyrrell, Andy, and Ivona scream next to him. The Amulet felt like a shard of ice against his chest. He turned and saw a tight mass of green monsters march toward the Shifters. They were about five hundred yards away but moving fast, closing the distance with every passing moment. The beasts’ gruesome growls and roars unmistakably sounded like a dare. Tens of thousands of Winter Shifters who stood behind and around Jatred, bellowed in unison, ready to face the beast army. The Spirits of the Winter Realm dashed over the Shifters’ heads like little balls of fire, trailing long, blazing tails behind them.

  The monsters’ thick skin was red-brown, like sequoia tree bark. Short, stout fur grew out of it in different shades of green, making the evil army look like a moving tropical forest. Most of them were enormous and stood well over nine feet tall. The shorter ones looked as strong and dangerous as their larger kin. The ground shook from the pounding of heavy feet. The hum of the beasts’ voices only added to the rhythm of the upcoming challenge.

  The Shifter army raised their weapons in response—swords and spears, huge axes, and daggers—most of them ancient and all magically enhanced by the Spirits of the Realm. A lot of women and teenage girls held Japanese naginatas and kaikens, ready for the Mahrasets’ attack. One group of huge men from Congo and Ghana yelled insults at the beasts from the top of their lungs. They brandished war hammers, Nzappa zaps, Japanese Tachi blades, and ancient Greek Harpē swords. Many of the double-natured didn’t carry weapons. Their enhancing Spirits planned for them to fight in their animal forms.

  Two long lines of Shifters stretched over the field, standing unmoved. They expertly held composite bows at ready, various in origin and style. Their enhancing Spirits were among the best archers of the past. Lusia and Bogdan looked as if transformed, their youthful appearances replaced by a stern look worn by veteran warriors. Erik’s mother stood next to them, focused on the approaching target.

  The Winter Shifter army rushed toward their opponents at full speed. A unified roar thundered over the field. The air pulsed and trembled around some of the double-natured, briefly distorting the outlines of their bodies. Snarling and baring their teeth, one after one shifted to their wolf forms, but becoming bigger than ever. Their fur stood on end, giving their colossal frames a frightful look. The wolves leaped forward, among, and over the other Shifters, racing to meet the incoming green mass of Mahrasets.

  All the Spirits of the Winter Realm that just a moment earlier hustled around the Shifters as small balls of fire, were now in their ghostly forms, gray and transparent. Their ethereal bodies stretched parallel to the ground, huge eyes wide open, their wispy, long hair streaming in the air behind them.

  The armies clashed; claws, teeth, and weapons alike, stubbing and snapping, slashing and pounding. The Spirits flew around and through the Mahrasets, confusing them and poisoning their minds with fear. The wolves were crushing the monsters with their bulk, biting and ripping chunks off the Mahrasets’ bodies. The air filled with cries of pain, fear and triumph.

  The Marhasets fought viciously, most of them towering over the Shifters. They possessed strength unsurpassed by any living beings. Even the Spirit-enhanced double-natured in their enormous animal forms weren’t as powerful as the creatures of torment.

  Jatred hacked at an arm of a snarling Mahraset with his Roman Gladius sword. He ducked away when the monster’s other arm swung in his direction. A roar of pain tore from the beast’s throat, ending with a wet gurgle when one of Tyrrell’s short Spartan swords stabbed its neck. Jatred and his uncle exchanged a brief glance. Tyrrell wielded two identical swords, mercilessly slashing and stabbing, cutting a path through the vast sea of green beasts.

  For every creature that fell, there was immediately another one, pressing on to take its place in the fight. Those that collapsed were instantly swallowed by the ground, with a sickening noise of sucking and bubbling, as if the land was a violence-thirsty monster itself.

  Many Shifters were wounded, bleeding, but healing quickly. Only those who received mortal wounds were lost. Their Spirits were rising from the bodies and disappearing into the air. The corpses of the fallen were immediately lifted by an unseen power and followed their Spirits to the Winter Realm.

  Huge snowflakes started to fall from
a cloudless sky, and the temperature rapidly dropped. The soil froze, and the sucking and bubbling sounds ceased. In the middle of the battlefield a gust of icy wind lifted a cloud of snow from the ground. It grew, swirling it into a tube of iridescent snowflakes. The warriors of both parties moved out of its way. The tube broke open, and the snow fell in sheets to the ground. Crystal in her Celtic goddess, Morrigan, form stepped forward, emanating power mixed with beauty.

  She threw off her black-feather cloak, revealing two wide swords strapped to her back. The tops of the hilts bulged over her shoulders. She reached back with remarkable speed and, raising the weapons above her head, slid them out to the sides. The swords made a high-pitched metallic screech when their surfaces glided against each other.

  Morrigan swirled around, driving her swords through the attacking Mahrasets. Dark green blood sprayed from the closest ones, staining the snow in an ugly slime. The ground then awakened, and swallowed the bodies of the slain monsters with a now-familiar sucking and bubbling sound.

  A sudden, unexpected heat wave swept over the field, melting the snow and ice. The frozen solid ground started to fracture in an irregular mosaic of geometrical shapes. The edges of each shape quickly lifted and curled upwards, cracking some more and revealing several inches of dry brown soil below.

  Behind Morrigan’s soaring frame materialized an equally tall and a very slim woman with the head of a lion—Amber in the form of the Egyptian goddess, Bastet. Her narrowed feline eyes swept over the battle field, stopping at Morrigan’s face. She smiled viciously, exposing close-packed, sharp teeth.

  The army of Summer Shifters appeared behind Bastet, their weapons at ready. The Spirits of the Summer Realm in their ghostly forms floated above and around their warriors. Jasmira, looking older than her almost-seventeen years, stood in the first row, her long jet-black hair braided in a simple plait. She held an ancient Greek Hoplite sword, leaf-shaped, roughly two feet long. Penelope, standing next to Jasmira, wielded a small, curved Karambit blade in one hand and a Japanese Kodachi sword in the other.

  “She doesn’t expect us to fight the Winter Shifters, does she?” Penelope incredulously asked Jasmira with her mind, keeping the mental shield up.

  Jasmira turned to her friend and said, “There is no way I could do that. But look, they are fighting the Summer Mahrasets. Maybe we can just help them?”

  “I think we would totally piss off the lion-head girl.” Penelope’s eyes darted to the imposing figure of Bastet. The first line of the Summer Shifters stood over twenty feet behind the Goddess, her back to them.

  The corners of Jasmira’s lips lifted in a small smile, which quickly disappeared. Her eyes widened as her vision went colorless again. She saw everything in black and gray and felt a familiar salty taste in her mouth. Her hand automatically flew to her chest, to touch the Dasht-e Kavir hidden under her shirt. It seemed to weigh more than before, pulling heavily on her neck.

  Jasmira heard a low murmur of the far-away voices, a chant repeated over and over. Her enhancing Spirit couldn’t do anything to calm her racing heart or remove the effects of the Dasht-e Kavir. She had an uneasy feeling that the magical jewel was awakening, as if from a long, deep sleep. Something was calling it, and the Dasht-e Kavir responded. She gasped when it occurred to her—Jatred was there, with the rest of the Winter Shifters, fighting the Mahrasets. And it was very possible that he wore the Amulet.

  Grannie called the Dasht-e Kavir the Amulet’s twin. Jasmira thought about what happened when Amber helped her transport Jatred to the Summer Realm, using the Amulet’s powers. A shiver went through her body, and her breathing quickened. The memory was vivid in her mind: their arms bound together by the Amulet, and the spiraled script appearing on the jewel’s edge, shining like molten gold. She recalled how much she had trusted Amber. How could she not understand that she was just a device in the Goddess’s hands? Hot rage shook her insides, and her jaw clenched tight.

  Morrigan cut diagonally through the air with the sword in her left hand, and the ground froze, glittering in millions of diamond-like sparkles. She did the same with the other sword, and the heavy snow began to fall. The temperature dropped many degrees past the freezing point.

  The Winter Goddess shouted a few words in an archaic form of Gaelic. The horizon line shifted, and the ground shook. A low, melodic hum came from far away. A vast army of white-furred Garhanans moved toward the battlefield with an alarming speed. Soon, their humming changed to an ear-splitting roar as they rushed in the direction of the Summer Shifter army.

  A growl escaped Bastet’s lion lips. Her thick mane, the tip of her nose, and her shoulders were covered in soft white snow. She stomped her foot, making the ground shake again.

  “You!” she roared, pointing finger at Morrigan. “You think you can ever defeat me?” She slammed her right fist into her left palm. A thick blinding ray of light shot out from between her hands. It looked like liquid fire. One end quickly coiled itself around Bastet’s palm and wrist. The other end danced in front of her as if mimicking a swaying cobra. The Goddess drew her arm back and forward, lashing the burning whip at Morrigan. The Winter Goddess expected the attack. Her two swords came forward in an “X”, cutting the whip into three sections. The two pieces fell onto the ground and disappeared into the soil. The third part, which Bastet was still holding, grew out like a vibrant vine, swaying to the sides in front of her.

  The Summer Goddess lashed her shortened whip with a flick of her wrist. A wave of excruciating heat washed over the area, once more melting the snow and ice. She shook her mighty lion-mane, roaring and snarling, her teeth bared.

  In the spots where Morrigan’s swords came into contact with the whip, two large chunks broke off their sharp edges. An electric-blue icy spark ran along each blade, repairing the damage. Thunder rolled over the battlefield when the Winter Goddess slammed her blades flat sides against one another. Dark clouds appeared from nowhere, stirring over the sky like a herd of angered animals. Blinding arrows of lightning zig-zagged the darkened sky and the snow started to fall in thick sheets. It became even colder than before.

  Bastet growled furiously, pulling her thin lips back from her teeth. She lifted her arm and pushed the air with her flat palm, sending a scorching heat wave toward her opponent. With a roar, she struck the blazing whip at Morrigan. But the swords cut it in half again. This time Bastet didn’t wait for the whip to grow back. She lashed what was left of her weapon at the group of wolves nearest to the Winter Goddess. One of Morrigan’s swords blocked the way, protecting her Shifters. An electric-blue spark zipped back and forth on the blade’s surface, repairing the damage. The other sword cut at the already mended whip, missing it by an inch.

  Both sides kept fighting ferociously. Most warriors were wounded over and over again, and then healed; many of them died and vanished. But neither side was giving up. Jasmira and Penelope tried to spot Jatred and Erik among the warriors, but it was impossible. The vast sea of the Mahrasets and Winter Shifters in both human and animal forms was too huge to penetrate, even with the keen eye of a Summer Shifter.

  “Try to mind-communicate with Jatred. I will do the same with Erik. Maybe we can get to them somehow?” Penelope’s voice was quiet but decisive.

  “I already did. I can’t find his mind. I hope… I really hope he is okay.” But Mom said to stay away from him…

  “Later then. Now we have to get ready for this.” Penelope pointed to the approaching Garhanans and smiled viciously, her enhancing Spirit taking over. The Summer Shifters around them—some in their human forms, others in animal—yelled and snarled. A huge army stood, confident and ready for the Garhanans. The Winter creatures of torment were almost upon the Summer Shifters, passing the mass of fighting Winter warriors and Mahrasets on their way.

  The enhancing Spirit assumed the full control over Jasmira. Her face became more mature, focused, her eyes narrowed. She raised her sword and a loud, deep growl came out of her throat. Her white teeth glistened against her dark
skin and black hair. “Now!” she half yelled, half snarled. The Summer Shifter army charged forward, their weapons ready to strike the upcoming enemy.

  Seconds before the clash of the armies, Bastet’s fire whip lashed at the incoming Garhanans, slicing a dozen of them in half. Dark-red blood stained the ground in huge circles around pieces of their massive bodies. The Goddess flicked her wrist, and Jasmira felt as if invisible arms pulled her to the right, away from the next line of charging monsters. Amber’s power sent her flying and smashing to the ground. Clumps of dirt flew everywhere. The Hoplite sword tumbled away from Jasmira’s hand.

  In the distance, the Summer army collided with the snow-white Garhanans. The Spirits of the Realm weaved themselves around and through the monsters, sinister and maddening. They looked and moved in the same way as the Winter Spirits. Jasmira rolled onto her back, wincing in pain, and saw the bloody confrontation directly in front of her. She turned her head to the right and saw the other battle: the Mahrasets and the Winter Shifters in a lethal combat.

  CHAPTER 57

  In-Between the Realms. Date in Human World: November 19, past midnight.

  Jasmira heard Amber’s commanding voice in her head, “Get up. Fast. Go find the Winter Prince. I will restore the memories. Now hurry, I can’t hold Crystal much longer.”

  Jasmira sat up, picked her sword, and slowly stood up. She kept her narrowed eyes on the fighting Goddesses. A cascade of hatred, disappointment, pain, and anger washed over her. She knew that she would not be looking for Jatred. As much as she was concerned for his safety, she also understood that staying away from him now was the only way to stop Amber from fulfilling her plan. “You killed my parents. And Jatred’s family,” she hissed under her breath. She gripped the hilt of her Hoplite blade and decisively walked toward the Summer Shifters battling with the Garhanans.