Rock, Paper, Shivers

by Sara C. Roethle

  They were going to have a daughter, Madeline had said, and no ancient Viking, nor vengeful deity could compare to the importance of that.

  13

  Mikael had lied when he said he was going to meet with his contacts once more. He’d already learned all he could from them, and what they suspected regarding Madeline’s whereabouts.

  Madeline had spent the previous evening visiting ancient graveyards, many of which could not be found on any map. Some were mass graves of victims who’d suffered ill fates due to famine and war. Others were simply old. They were places where the spirits didn’t truly rest, unwilling to let go of their natural lives.

  Given her chosen locations, Mikael’s contacts had speculated on where she might go next, and he had to agree with them.

  There was a well known sight in Dublin called Bully’s Acre. Originally a priory, hundreds of thousands of people had been buried in the area, starting as early as the 1170s. The gravesite had eventually been leveled, leaving no record of most of the bodies beneath the earth. It was a perfect place for Madeline to fill out her ranks, with so many dead in one space.

  He found the odds especially likely, since she had covered most of Northern Ireland during the previous night. It would only make sense for her to cover the South before moving on to other continents, if she moved on at all. Ireland was the Morrigan’s chosen homeland, so it figured her phantoms would come from there, and only there.

  Madeline had proven she could cover many graveyards in a single evening, and Bully’s Acre would undoubtedly be on her list. So that was where Mikael would head, on his own. He knew Alaric would not forgive him for omitting him from his plans, but he also knew he could not take him. Madeline was not herself. If she harmed Alaric while possessed, it would kill her later. Mikael’s only hope was their blood oath. If Madeline caused him harm, the earth would come to claim her. With any luck, he would have a chance to remind her of that fact before she killed him.

  If it was in both the Morrigan’s and the key’s best interest to keep Madeline alive, they would at the very least exercise caution, or so he kept telling himself. In reality, any positive outcome would require a great deal of luck. He’d always been lucky, but this was pushing it.

  Still, he didn’t think twice before climbing into the car he and Sophie had driven to the countryside. He never reconsidered as he took the narrow country road toward the highway.

  Dublin was several hours away, but it was barely midday. Madeline had visited the other graves under the cover of night, so it would stand to reason that if she did indeed visit Bully’s Acre, it would not be until the sun went down. He had time.

  Even so, as soon as he reached the end of the country road and turned onto the highway that would take him South, he sped down it like a bat out of hell. Once he reached an area where his cell had service, he called Aila, instructing her and Faas to catch the next flight to Ireland, leaving Tabitha to gather the rest of his people, urging them out of hiding.

  Faas would not appreciate being separated from his sister, but he would be needed to determine just what was going on inside Madeline. Since he could drain and analyze the spiritual energy from others, he’d be able to tell Mikael just how much space the Morrigan and the key were now taking up . . . if Madeline didn’t kill him first.

  The key would most definitely see Faas as a threat, since Faas could weaken its vessel. The real Madeline would willingly let Faas take her energy. The other energies, most likely, would put up a fight.

  He clenched his jaw and focused on the road. After all he had sacrificed, all he had lost, he would not lose to the key now. This was a battle begun long before Madeline was born, and he would see it through to the bitter end.

  “You shouldn’t have let Mikael go,” James argued as soon as they were back within the Salr.

  “He won’t harm Madeline, ” Alaric sighed, scenting the air for Kira.

  He knew he had already gotten all of the information out of her that he could, but he couldn’t just sit and wait for Tallie to sense the key. He had to act. If Kira couldn’t be found, he would read the Morrigan’s books cover to cover, despite the language barrier. Perhaps their pages held some way to reverse what had been done to Madeline. If so, he’d do his best to decipher it.

  “How can you be so sure?” James asked, following Alaric down the narrow hall.

  Tallie and Alejandro had gone ahead, claiming a room to get some rest after disposing of Damon’s body. Alaric probably should have gotten some rest himself, but even after not sleeping the previous night, he knew any efforts he made would be fruitless. There was no way he could sleep so soon after losing Maddy once again.

  He had no answer for James, or rather, none he was willing to give. He sensed Mikael was either in love with Madeline, or he’d found some other sort of camaraderie within her that Alaric didn’t quite understand. Either way, the Viking was intent on rescuing her. Mikael might betray Alaric and James, but he would not betray Madeline, even if there wasn’t an oath holding him in line.

  He decided to give up on his search for Kira, since James would probably pester him the entire way. Instead, he stopped at the room containing the Morrigan’s books.

  “You didn’t answer me,” James said evenly, following him in.

  “He swore a blood oath to Madeline,” Alaric explained. “You were there, if you recall.”

  James snorted. “All of that time seems like a dream to me.”

  Alaric lifted one of the heavy tomes from the table and slumped into a chair to peruse its contents. “It was more like a nightmare, seeing you cower in fear with only the slightest provocation.”

  “Yeah,” James grumbled. “You must have loved seeing that.”

  “I’d rather not see you at all,” Alaric replied simply.

  He knew he was baiting James, but he was itching for a fight. Too much inaction and too much fear over Madeline’s predicament left him grasping for something to focus his attention on. Why did James even want to converse with him in the first place?

  James picked up a book himself, not really looking at it. “You say that,” he argued, “but then why am I still here, and not in an unmarked grave with Diana?”

  Alaric shrugged and focused on the book, not wanting to put Sophie in the spotlight. She was off exploring the rest of the new Salr on her own, and she’d not thank him for giving away her secret to James.

  “Answer me,” James demanded, raking his hands through his golden hair with an irritated flick.

  Alaric glared at him. “We considered leaving you unconscious, but didn’t want you relaying any information to Aislin.”

  “And?” James pressed.

  Alaric shrugged again, giving in if it meant James would leave him alone. “And my sister didn’t have the heart to kill a man while he was unable to defend himself. Sophie has never been much of a killer.”

  James smirked. “If she was, I’d be dead ten times over, though I’m not sure why you’ve never tried to do it for her.”

  Alaric looked back down at his book. “Sophie can fight her battles as she chooses.”

  “And Madeline?” James walked to the front of the empty fireplace, his back to Alaric. “Can she fight her battles as she chooses?”

  Alaric frowned behind James’ back. “If Madeline were in her right mind, I would respect her decisions. I have respected her decisions thus far. Yet I will not stand idly by while foreign energies use her body for their own purposes.”

  “And you’re so sure that Madeline has no control in this situation?”

  Unable to focus on reading, Alaric put down his book. “You saw the same display as I. We both know Madeline would never speak like that. She would never have brushed off Damon’s death so easily.”

  “Or maybe the little mouse is growing fangs,” James taunted, turning away from the fireplace to face him, “and you’re worried that they’ll be bigger than yours.”

  Alaric raised an eyebrow at him. “You truly think that was Madeline speak
ing, and not the key or the Morrigan?”

  James smirked again. “She was looking at you with the same sappy eyes she always does. That look didn’t come from the key, and I doubt it came from the Morrigan, given how she feels about men. Madeline might not have been pulling all the strings, but my guess is she’s a willing partner in this endeavor, not a prisoner.” He turned back to the empty fireplace and began stacking some nearby logs in the center.

  Alaric shook his head, turning his attention back to the book. The Madeline he knew would never summon a phantom army. Of course, the Madeline he first met would not have made it this far to begin with. Maybe he wasn’t giving her enough credit. Or, perhaps he was giving her too much credit by assuming she’d take the moral high ground, despite the consequences. Perhaps Madeline was more like the other Vaettir than he’d originally thought.

  He wasn’t sure if it was a comforting thought, or a frightening one. On one hand, a callous outlook bettered her chances of survival. On the other, it changed who she was. Madeline’s unyielding respect for life was a part of her. It had shaped who she was, and in many ways, it had shaped him during the time that he’d spent with her. He didn’t want her to change, and he wasn’t sure if his concern was for her, or for himself.

  That thought alone troubled him. He wasn’t used to the dynamics of a committed relationship, and he wasn’t sure how selfless or selfish he was supposed to be.

  He pushed his thoughts away as he read the text in front of him. None of it mattered, really, since as far as the odds were concerned, neither of them would survive very long.

  Forget phantoms, deities, and the key. A battle between the two largest clans of the Vaettir would mean bloodshed like their race had never seen, and it would undoubtedly spill over into the human world. There was no way to contain it.

  Even if they lived, their lives would be changed forever. There was no telling in what way, but he was quite sure it wouldn’t be good.

  His attention was brought back to James as the fire roared to life. He looked a question at him as he rose, surprised that James would be considerate enough to build a fire.

  Not meeting Alaric’s eyes, James muttered, “I’m going to get some rest. I suggest you do the same.”

  Alaric nodded as James left him, turning his eyes back to the book. There was an image of a woman sacrificing a man before him. The accompanying chant called to death and darkness for power.

  Though Madeline could bring death, that wasn’t all she was. She was light and compassion. She wouldn’t take part in a ritual that worshipped only death.

  Would she?

  14

  Mikael walked amongst the gravestones dotting the grassy earth like the broken teeth of some long-dead giant. He thought he could almost feel the energy of the dead below, but it was probably just paranoia. Sensing the dead, or energies in general, was not one of his talents.

  The sun was yet to set, so a few humans, tourists most likely, milled about the ancient gravesite. There weren’t many since the winter months weren’t the tourist high season. Hopefully they would leave before full dark. Witnessing what Madeline had to offer might be a bit more than the visitors had bargained for on their trip to Ireland.

  He took a seat on a nearby bench to wait, fidgeting nervously. It wasn’t often that his nerves got the better of him, but it also wasn’t often he went into a situation he was unlikely to win. Best case scenario, Madeline would hop a ride with her phantoms to get away from him. Worst case, she would disregard her oath and kill him, then the earth would claim her in turn. Of course, there was a third option. She might gather enough power to find a way around their oath, and would kill him with no consequences.

  He could only hope enough of the real Madeline was still beneath the surface to not want to hurt him. Of course, if the key was in control, it might not kill him either. The key would use anyone it could, and Mikael was rather useful. However, if the Morrigan was in charge, he would die. He trusted that witch even less than he trusted the key.

  He remained on his bench as darkness slowly crept across the countryside, chasing away the humans visiting the historical site. He felt more comfortable as the last of the visitors left, then grimaced at the thought of what might have happened had Madeline shown up with her phantoms in public.

  Mikael wasn’t worried about what the humans would think. Most humans wouldn’t believe the story of a ghost army descending upon an ancient graveyard. It would be passed off as poisonous gasses seeping up from the ground to make people hallucinate, or some other such rationalization. He was more worried about the idea of Madeline harming people. Her conscience would destroy her in the end, if they ever managed to restore her to her original self at all.

  As full darkness fell, he continued to wait, but there was no sign of Madeline. He decided to move to a less conspicuous spot, not only worried a security guard might approach, but also not wanting Madeline to see him first. If she saw him first, she might simply flee.

  His mind made up, he moved silently to a more secluded area of the gravesite and crouched in the darkness, where he continued to wait.

  The hours crept on. He’d left his cell phone in the rental car, and had no watch to tell the time, but he guessed it was somewhere around midnight. He cursed silently. He’d been so sure Madeline would want to utilize Bully’s Acre, but perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps she went to another continent entirely, and he had no hope of finding her without Tallie’s help.

  Still, he would wait the night out in the graveyard, just in case. He pushed his hair back away from his face as a cool breeze hit him, sending goosebumps up and down his arms. Normally he was fairly tolerant to the cold, but there was something about this breeze that wasn’t quite right. It felt like it was laced with electricity, yet there was no storm to provide lightning.

  He continued to crouch as he heard light footsteps on the grass not far off.

  “I didn’t expect to find you hiding in a graveyard,” a voice said, suddenly near him.

  He rose abruptly and turned toward the voice. Madeline stood roughly twenty feet away, alone. At least, she appeared to be alone. Mikael had little doubt the phantoms could swoop in without a moment’s notice.

  He took a step toward her. “Well you left so suddenly this morning, we never got to finish our conversation.”

  Madeline closed the distance between them. Over her sweater and jean ensemble, she’d added a knee-length, black coat that billowed around her legs as she moved, adding to the Phantom Queen imagery quite nicely. Her long, wavy hair danced around her shoulders and waist as the breeze played with the loose tendrils. Standing before him, she turned her face upward, her expression calm.

  Looking down at her smaller form, Mikael could have sworn she was the normal Madeline. The look in her pale blue eyes was familiar, unlike the presence of a foreign power.

  “It really is you in there, isn’t it?” he observed.

  “Did you doubt it?” she asked, sounding like Madeline, only slightly off. He realized with a start that the new tone in her voice was confidence.

  “But there are others inside of you as well . . . ” he trailed off, feeling the urge to reach out and touch her to verify she was real.

  She nodded, sending her hair forward over her shoulders. “You were already aware of the presence of the key. Now the Morrigan helps us too.”

  He sighed. He didn’t want to contradict Madeline out of fear she’d take off again, but he also wanted to keep their civil conversation going. “Up until now, I was under the impression we were fighting against the key.”

  Madeline tilted her head to the side in thought, a very un-Madeline gesture. “For now, our purpose is the same. We must work together to achieve our goals. Once our enemies have been dealt with, the key and I can have a stand off of our own.”

  Mikael nodded, outwardly accepting her answer, even though he didn’t accept it at all. “If we are to defeat our enemies, it would be nice to have you around to plan with us.”

 
; Madeline frowned. “I must finish summoning my army first.”

  His palms began to sweat. Something about the whole conversation was unnerving. He remembered when Erykah had been tied to the key. Sometimes it spoke through her, but not like this. This was like Madeline’s personality had actually melded with the other forces.

  “You’re nervous,” Madeline observed. “That’s new.”

  Mikael was momentarily shocked that he’d let his mental shields down, or had he? His eyes widened slightly as he focused his attention inward. His shields were still firmly in place. Her empathic powers must have increased along with everything else.

  “Can you blame me?” he asked.

  She shook her head and smiled. “No, I don’t blame you, but I must ask you to stand aside while I retrieve what I came here for.”

  Ignoring her request, Mikael asked. “Is it you that wants this, or is it the Morrigan?”

  Madeline laughed, surprising him. “You all think I’m so weak. The Morrigan saw my strength. She knew I could do this on my own.”

  Mikael laughed in reply. “If I thought you were weak, I would never have allied myself with you to begin with. Our oath goes both ways, so you know I’m not lying.”

  That seemed to give Madeline pause. “If that is the case, then you can trust that I know what I’m doing.”

  “I do trust you,” he replied. “I just want to make sure that this is your choice.”

  “It is, now please stand back.”

  “At least come reassure Alaric that you and your child are both okay!” he blurted out as she began to slowly raise her arms. “This uncertainty is killing him.”

  Her intent expression faltered, once again giving Mikael hope the real Madeline was reachable.