Rock, Paper, Shivers

by Sara C. Roethle

  Ignoring her, Alaric increased his pace to a jog, trusting his intuition. Whatever the swirling mass was, it had something to do with Madeline. Once he had closed some of the distance, she came into view. He knew it was her, even without being close enough to see her features.

  Dark shapes swirled around, darting in and out of the mass that seemed to move with Madeline’s slender form. At first it had seemed like she was floating with them, almost melding with their diaphanous shapes, then she touched down onto the sandy shore and began to walk.

  Alaric raced toward her, heedless of the phantoms.

  “Madeline!” he called, loud enough to be heard over the crashing ocean waves as he neared the beach where Madeline stood.

  Her eyes rose to his as he halted his progress, about twenty feet away from her. She wore a crimson sweater and gray jeans that looked out of place with her supernatural entourage.

  Panic clawed at his throat as Madeline stared at him. He feared she’d been taken over by the key, or worse, the Morrigan. Then she smiled.

  “I knew you’d find me!” she called out.

  He darted forward, closing the rest of the distance between them. His feet sunk into the soft sand as he wrapped her up in his arms. The phantoms swirled around them both as he kissed her, unable to help himself, though he had a million questions.

  When he finally pulled away, he whispered, “What have you done?”

  She smiled again. “I’ve built an army to protect us and our child.”

  “How?” he asked, glancing up at the dark forms. “Why?”

  The unnatural wind played with his hair, melding it with Madeline’s as he held her close. She didn’t feel entirely real in his arms. Everything felt like a dream, at least, he hoped it was a dream, and not a nightmare.

  He wasn’t one to scare easily, but he had to admit, the phantoms had him on edge, even if they were under Madeline’s control like they seemed to be. He didn’t know how to fight phantoms, or if he even could. He was a warrior at heart, and intangible entities unnerved him.

  She frowned. “What do you mean, why? I couldn’t rely on you to protect me forever. I know you all think I’m weak, but I’m not.”

  “I know you’re not weak,” he gasped, confused by the accusation in her words, “but this?” he added removing an arm from around her waist to gesture at the sky.

  She watched him with a hurt expression, not bothering to glance up at the phantoms. Maybe she wasn’t entirely herself after all.

  Seeing that his current tactics were getting him nowhere, he changed his approach, though it pained him to do so.

  “Where is the Morrigan?” he questioned evenly.

  Her expression crumbled. “She sacrificed her human form to summon the banshees. I will bring her back when the time comes.”

  Her words didn’t make sense. Something was very wrong, but Alaric felt it prudent not to comment. It would probably be a good thing if the Morrigan was truly gone, and stayed gone.

  Not voicing his opinion was difficult, but he didn’t want Madeline getting mad and taking off with her phantoms. The real Madeline wouldn’t run, but he had no idea who he was actually dealing with in that moment.

  He returned his arm to her waist to hold her a little tighter, just in case, then calmly asked, “What do you plan next?”

  Relaxing into his embrace, she explained, “We must plan the final battle. From that I will gather enough energy to separate myself from both the Morrigan and the key.”

  The relief he’d felt when Madeline relaxed in his arms was instantly wiped away at her words. Had the Morrigan somehow shielded herself within Madeline, just like the key? That had to be the case if Madeline needed to separate herself from her.

  “Where is Mikael?” she asked.

  He clenched his jaw, wanting to say something, or to at least lash out at the Morrigan in some way, but instead he answered Madeline’s question.

  “I wasn’t able to send word to him before coming here. He is likely still back in Norway, waiting for a phone call.”

  She didn’t seem to hear his words as she turned her gaze past him. Alaric glanced back to see Aislin’s people, waiting on the crest of a hill, but James had left them and was heading their way.

  “Who are they?” Madeline whispered, referring to those remaining on the hill.

  “They belong to Aislin,” he explained, turning his attention back to Madeline in his arms. “Joining with them was the only way I could find you.”

  She nodded, seeming to accept his answer, then pulled away as James approached. Alaric turned to stand beside her, facing James.

  “He has his memories back,” Madeline observed once James was within hearing range, surprising Alaric with her insight.

  “I sure do,” James said as he reached them, stopping before he reached the phantoms. “And I know who killed my grandmother.”

  Alaric turned his head to watch Madeline’s expression. If she was nervous, it didn’t show. The old Madeline would have been nervous.

  “You’ll get over it.”

  One of the phantoms darted toward James. He stumbled back, cowering as more of the dark forms swooped toward him, threatening.

  “I suppose I will,” he agreed, eyes remaining on the phantoms.

  Alaric looked past James to Tallie, Alejandro, and Damon on the hill. They knew they were likely on a suicide mission from the start. If they tried to run now, Aislin would have them hunted and killed. If they tried to take Madeline by force, they would have to contend with an army of phantoms.

  “Their choices are poor,” Madeline commented, almost as if reading Alaric’s mind.

  He was used to her reading his emotions, but to pluck such a keen observation from emotions alone seemed far fetched at best. Perhaps she had not only gained an army, but a few new tricks as well.

  She paused in thought, then said, “We cannot let them leave to spread word of what they’ve seen here. We can give them the choice to join us, but they cannot be set free.”

  James had finally braved the phantoms enough to stand near Alaric and Madeline. He lowered his voice as he commented, “If they join us, they’re little more than mutineers.”

  Madeline smiled at him. “Aren’t we all?”

  James smirked. “I suppose we are, but the fact remains, they cannot be trusted. They might turn on you the moment you let down your guard.”

  Madeline laughed. “Then I will not let down my guard.”

  She walked forward, trailing her phantoms behind her, leaving Alaric and James behind to gawk at her back. She reached the edge of the rocky beach then walked across the lush grass toward the waiting trio. Alejandro seemed hesitant to remain where he was, but Tallie and Damon stood strong.

  “You have two options,” Madeline called out as she neared them. “Accept a new queen, or die.”

  Alaric’s heart dropped as Damon abruptly threw himself toward Madeline, a blade gleaming in his hand. Alaric began to rush forward, but there was no need. Before the blade could strike, three banshees dropped down in front of him, letting out horrid cries.

  Damon skidded to a halt, gazing at the spectral women before him, awestruck. As Alaric reached Madeline’s side, Damon began to sputter while clutching at his throat. His hands moved to claw at his face, eyes still intent on the banshees before him. Everyone watched in silent horror as he fell to his knees, then keeled over, dead. It had all happened so quickly Alaric felt frozen. He’d had no time to act, and wasn’t even sure what he would have done if he had.

  Tallie and Alejandro dropped to their knees before Madeline. Not looking up, Tallie explained, “Our job was never to bring you back with us. It was to kill you. Aislin did not believe the charm is within you, and wants you dead so she may claim it for herself.”

  Thoughts raced through Alaric’s mind as he tried to ignore the dead man at their feet. It was Estus who wanted Madeline alive after all. Had Estus learned the charm was within Madeline, or did he simply understand he couldn’t take it from
her regardless? Still, Alaric wasn’t sure how Estus would hope to use her. She was a force to be reckoned with, and held no love for the aged Doyen. After the scene with Damon, he did not envy Estus’ chances at survival.

  Madeline crouched and released the life from Damon’s body, not bothering to even look down at him, then stood to face Alaric, ignoring Tallie and Alejandro.

  Alaric still longed to hold her, but she was not his Madeline, not right now at least. He hated that his first thought was that maybe Mikael would know what to do, but he really was their best hope in that moment. The Viking had been alive over 1,300 years, and had acquired a great deal of arcane knowledge in that time.

  Alaric knew he should be setting some sort of plan in motion, but he couldn’t seem to fully focus on the details with Damon’s dead body lying a few feet away. He wasn’t bothered as much by the death, as Madeline’s reaction to it. Madeline always cared about death. She valued the lives of heroes and villains alike.

  Madeline seemed as if she were about to say something to him, but something else caught her attention. Alaric followed her gaze past the still waiting Tallie and Alejandro to two distant forms. Relief flooded through him. Mikael and Sophie.

  He never thought he’d feel such happiness to see someone he utterly detested, but there it was. He was at a complete loss with Madeline, sensing that if he pointed out that she was being influenced into decisions that weren’t her own, she’d simply leave. Whatever foreign energies were inside her likely held no love for him, so if the part of Madeline that was still Madeline wasn’t strong enough, he didn’t stand a chance.

  Mikael and Sophie broke into a jog upon seeing them. Both wore modern clothing that would have blended in anywhere. Sophie’s of course, was uniform black.

  Neither hesitated at the sight of the phantoms still swirling around Madeline, though Sophie did watch them warily as they approached.

  Tallie turned to their new company, then took a step back. “You’re Mikael,” she gasped. She turned back to Alaric. “You had planned to ambush us from the start,” she accused, then quickly went pale as one of the phantoms darted a little too close to her, blowing her hair away from her face with the sudden gust.

  Mikael stepped forward. “On the contrary.” He winked at Tallie, then walked past her. “We caught word from my contacts on this continent of one of the Vaettir, a woman, raising the spirits of the restless dead across the countryside, paying little heed to any who might witness the odd sight.” His eyes focused on Madeline. “Some of them were nearby, trying to figure out a way to kill you before I intervened. At that time, Sophie caught wind of her brother, leading us here.”

  Madeline’s smile sent a chill down Alaric’s spine. “Kill me?” she laughed. “Let them try.”

  Mikael’s expression didn’t change, though there was a certain wariness in his gaze. “There will be no need for that. Save your strength for our enemies.”

  Madeline smiled even wider. “If I expend my strength, I will simply gather more.” She turned back to Alaric. “We’ve waisted enough time. We must choose the location of the final battle.”

  “We need to stop and think,” he cautioned. There had to be a way to reach the real Madeline, to pull her back from the abyss.

  James grunted in agreement, reminding Alaric that he was right beside him. He’d been so distracted that he’d forgotten his once friend, now long-time enemy had been there at all.

  “I’ve made my choice,” Madeline said evenly.

  She turned away from Alaric to regard Tallie and Alejandro, both of whom went green with the new attention. “Send word to Aislin. I will await her on the battlefield, but tell her nothing else. If you betray me, I promise your deaths will be much worse than your Doyen could ever manage.”

  Before Alaric could reach out and grab her, the phantoms lifted Madeline back into the air. She didn’t look at him at all as she was carried away, back toward the coast. Within moments, she faded from view, almost as if she’d been absorbed into the swirling fog composed of spirits.

  Mikael closed the final distance between them with Sophie following shortly behind. His long, auburn hair blew back from his face as a particularly harsh, cold breeze came in from the coast.

  The breeze prickled Alaric’s skin with electricity, as if it carried unnatural energy with it.

  Mikael glanced between Alaric and Sophie. “That was not Madeline.”

  Alaric turned away from Mikael and his sister to gaze off in the direction Madeline had gone. “At first I thought the key had taken her over again,” he explained, “but there’s something more. I believe the Morrigan has shielded herself inside her as well. They all now work toward the same purpose.”

  Alaric turned back to Mikael to find that he had been gazing at the coast with him.

  Swallowing his pride, Alaric asked, “How do we fix this?”

  Mikael shook his head. “We summoned a deity to fix this, and we’ve only succeeded in making things worse. I do not know how to fix this.”

  Alaric felt like he wanted to scream, to curse the entire planet for providing the one he loved with such a tumultuous existence. He couldn’t lose her and their child now. He had promised to protect them both.

  “We have to try,” he urged, willing the Viking to agree with him.

  If Mikael gave up, Alaric would force Tallie to find Madeline again. He did not know what he’d do when he found her, but he couldn’t not find her.

  “I swore an oath to her,” Mikael said coldly, seeming to sense what Alaric was thinking. “Despite what you may think of me, I hold true to my oaths.”

  Alaric breathed a sigh of relief, then gestured back to the waiting Tallie and Alejandro. “Tallie can find her, given enough time,” he explained. “We just need to wait until Madeline remains in one place long enough for a perceptible amount of energy to build.”

  Mikael glanced back at Tallie, then turned away, seeming to dismiss her. “We cannot remain one step behind. We must anticipate Madeline’s next move.”

  He clenched his fists. “No one could have anticipated any of this.”

  “She’s going to gather more power,” Mikael observed, not offended by Alaric’s tone. “She wants a final battle, but which part of her wants it? The key would be motivated toward that goal. I don’t see what the Morrigan would have to gain, but perhaps she would as well.”

  “What’s your point?” Sophie growled, finally interjecting herself into the discussion.

  Mikael shrugged. “I’m just trying to determine where Madeline is coming from. Why she has embarked on this endeavor.”

  “She’s obviously been taken over by more powerful forces,” Sophie grumbled. “Madeline is coming from nowhere. It’s the key’s actions we must predict.”

  Mikael shrugged again, but said nothing.

  Sophie sighed. “What is it?” she asked tiredly. “What are you not saying?”

  Mikael frowned. “I’m saying that the Morrigan and the key might both want the final battle, but Madeline might want it too. Was her original intent not to use the deaths from a large battle to destroy the key?”

  “I don’t think Madeline is willingly going along with this,” Alaric countered. “It’s not something she would do just to beat the key. The last time she raised the dead . . . ” he trailed off, thinking of Diana. “She was horrified. You saw those things she summoned. That is not her.”

  Mikael snorted. “I think you give her too little credit.”

  “On the contrary,” Alaric argued, “I give her the credit she deserves. Madeline would not be reckless enough, and selfish enough to summon an army of spirits just for a chance to rid herself of the key.”

  Mikael smiled. “Unless she truly thinks she can win.”

  Alaric shook his head at Mikael’s foolishness, then looked back to Tallie and Alejandro. They could have tried to run during their discussion, but hadn’t. Of course, they had nowhere to go. If they didn’t return with news that Madeline was dead soon, Aislin would send othe
rs to hunt them.

  James walked forward, encompassing Tallie and Alejandro in the span of his gaze. “I chose the side I think most likely to win,” he explained to them. “Will you do the same, or will you ride Aislin’s sinking ship to your deaths, which will probably happen tomorrow?”

  Tallie stood tall and unyielding. “I can find Madeline again, given the time. I’ve weighed the odds, and think this route my most likely chance of survival, but I want a guarantee of protection from Aislin.”

  She’d looked to Mikael as she’d said the last, and he nodded in reply.

  Alejandro stepped up beside her, though he didn’t seem happy about it, especially since Damon’s corpse was only a few feet away. “I have no desire to go near the Phantom Queen again, but I will fight for the side not planning on sending assassins after me.”

  Alaric shivered. Phantom Queen. It sounded familiar to him.

  “They called the Morrigan the Phantom Queen,” Mikael observed, “not long before she left this world.”

  Alaric crossed his arms against the cold seeping into his bones. He was rarely affected by cold, but he was sure feeling it now.

  “There is a Salr here,” Alaric explained to Mikael and Sophie. “We can wait until Tallie gets a sense of where Madeline is. Perhaps she’ll even come back.”

  “I will send for my people to gather on this continent,” Mikael replied, turning his gaze back to the coast. “We must be ready, should Madeline spring the final battle on us.” His expression turned pensive. “I must speak to my contacts once more to see if they can grant me any further insight into what Madeline has done.”

  Before Alaric could accuse him of planning to run off, Mikael met his eyes firmly and said, “I will keep my oath to her.”

  Alaric sealed his lips into a tight line and nodded. “As will I.”

  The two men turned away from each other, Alaric marching in the direction of the Salr with the rest of their party following, while Mikael walked off alone.

  The only other oaths Alaric had ever sworn were to protect his sister, and to kill Mikael to avenge his mother. This latest oath, to save Madeline and his child, would have to take precedence. He’d waited hundreds of years to kill Mikael, but it no longer mattered. He was now only concerned with who needed to live, not who needed to die. Death could come later.