Rock, Paper, Shivers

by Sara C. Roethle

  “They’re gone,” Aila panted, gazing up at the sky for any sign of the banshees.

  They’d left moments after Madeline had gone. Alaric still couldn’t quite believe what his eyes had shown him as Madeline fluidly shifted into the form of a crow. He’d seen the Morrigan do it, but had never guessed Madeline might be capable, even with the Morrigan’s energy inside her.

  Faas rose from his crouch, finished with releasing James’ life. Madeline’s abrupt departure had not come soon enough to save him.

  Sophie now stood by Alaric, looking down at James’ body with a strange expression. She leaned her head forward enough that her hair slithered over her shoulder to hide her face.

  “I told him he was a monster,” she muttered under her breath.

  “He was,” Alaric replied, not sure how to comfort his sister, if he should even comfort her at all. She might not need it, and she definitely wouldn’t accept it.

  Alaric looked up to Mikael, who stood by Aila. “How did you find her?” he asked. “She told me you were the one who brought her back here. So how did you find her?”

  “Luck,” Mikael grumbled, looking uncharacteristically angry. “That damn Morrigan. She’s the cause of this. I know it. Madeline couldn’t shift into a crow on her own. The Morrigan took over.”

  “Madeline was able to speak freely with me while we were in the Salr,” Alaric explained, then backtracked, “As freely as she was able without giving anything away. I didn’t get the feeling the Morrigan was who she was hiding things from.”

  Mikael frowned. “You noticed it too? Like she was afraid to say too much?”

  “Or else the key might hear,” Faas finished for them, quickly catching on to their train of thought.

  Alaric turned back to his sister. “Go find Tallie. We need to know if she can sense anything.”

  Sophie didn’t move. She just stared down at James.

  “Sophie,” Alaric demanded, “go.”

  She nodded a little too quickly, then left them to return to the Salr. Alaric knew Madeline had left in an attempt to call off the banshees, but something screamed in his mind that she wasn’t safe. He felt a sense of urgency he couldn’t quite explain. All he knew was that they needed to act. They could no longer wait.

  Something green several miles off caught Alaric’s eye. It was a darker green than the loamy ground, and sped toward them at an alarming speed.

  “Kira,” he observed as the tiny woman came fully into view.

  She continued to run, impossibly fast like a bullet darting through the air, until she reached them and collapsed onto the ground at Alaric’s feet.

  “They took her!” she gasped, clutching at her throat for oxygen, her mishmash of bright clothing looking even more ridiculous in her current predicament.

  She tossed her dark green hair out of her face, then began again, still panting, “Those people took Madeline. I wanted to help, but I thought I would help more by letting you know. You’ll save her. You always do.”

  Kira’s earnest eyes looked up into Alaric’s, pleading.

  “Who took her?” Alaric demanded, the screaming panic within him increasing tenfold.

  “The old man and woman,” Kira panted, “and the man with white hair. They said he was a necromancer.”

  Alaric was unsure what Kira meant by the old man and woman, but the white haired necromancer jogged something in his mind. Aislin’s executioner had been white haired. Necromancy was a skill known to very few. It differed from the skills of an executioner on levels of control, but both were still similar in many ways. If Aislin’s executioner took Madeline, that had to mean that the old woman was Aislin, but then who was the old man? The only person who came to mind was Estus, but that didn’t make sense. He and Aislin were mortal enemies.

  “Take me to where you last saw her,” Alaric demanded, his gaze intent on Kira.

  Mikael was suddenly at his side. He glanced at Faas and Aila. “Have Sophie track us once she returns with the others,” he ordered.

  Kira rose to her feet, recovered from her long run. “Are you ready?” she asked in her small voice.

  Both men nodded. Kira took off in the direction she had come with Alaric and Mikael right behind her. Distantly, Alaric could hear Aila shouting orders at Faas, but the words flowed past his ears like an insubstantial breeze. He was faster than any Vaettir he’d encountered over the course of his five hundred years. If those who’d taken Madeline wanted to race, they’d chosen the wrong opponent.

  I’d lost consciousness at some point, and when I awoke, I felt cut off from everything. I couldn’t feel the emotions around me, I couldn’t sense the banshees, and I couldn’t even see. Everything was pitch black.

  I heard footsteps. I struggled to move, but it felt like I was tied to a wooden chair, each wrist bound to an arm, and each ankle bound to a leg. I could feel the pinch of another rope at my waist.

  There was the familiar sound of a matchstick striking its box, then candlelight illuminated the room. Marcos’ face became harshly shadowed as he lit several more candles spaced around the area. As the room filled with pockets of light, Estus and Aislin approached from the darkness to stand in front of me.

  Estus’ dark, loose clothing seemed centuries away from Aislin’s prim ballgown, though the pair appeared similar in age and stature. Aislin’s expression was blank, while Estus’ lined face held a small smile. Marcos moved to stand behind them, his face a pale oval in the deeper shadows of the room.

  “Why can’t I sense anything?” I rasped, unable to match their silence.

  “It’s Marcos’ gift,” Aislin explained, “though he is only able to contend with the charm because you allowed yourself to become so horribly weakened. Even gods need rest.”

  “I’m not a god,” I grumbled, straining against my bonds to no avail.

  Estus smirked. “Close enough. The energy of the charm makes you near immortal. It protects you from any that would cause you physical harm.”

  Remembering his earlier words, I asked, “If that’s the case, then how do you intend to cleave it from my soul?”

  Estus leaned forward to put his face near mine, gazing directly into my eyes. “First we will steal the charm from you, then we will do the cleaving.”

  I struggled again, making my hair fall into my face. Frustrated, I tried to blow it away with my mouth, then jerked back as Marcos stepped around Estus to move it for me. Marcos’ hand dropped back to his side as he continued to eye me wordlessly, expression unchanged.

  I turned my attention back to Estus and Aislin. “Why do you want it so badly?” I asked, trying to stall for time. “If you’re working together, then it’s obviously not to be the sole leader of the Vaettir.”

  Estus chuckled. “Since you are about to die, I will explain. No one should go to their grave confused. As you may have noticed, Aislin and I have become rather advanced in age. We are dying.”

  “Everyone dies,” I snapped, unable to keep my rage and frustration to myself.

  Unfazed, Estus countered, “Not gods. With the power of the charm within us, we will be as close to gods as possible. The charm needs its host to live on, and so it will provide us with the power needed to do so.”

  “Unless someone comes along and takes it away,” I argued, “just like you’re planning to do with me.”

  Estus tilted his head and gave me a look of pity. Like he was speaking with a rather dense child, he explained, “The charm will be divided between us. If someone wants it for themselves, they will have to catch us both.”

  Throbbing pain was building behind my skull. I needed to keep stalling. For what, I didn’t know, but I couldn’t just let them kill me.

  “Divided?” I questioned. “I don’t think that’s going to work.”

  Estus grinned, scaring me. “It will work because our DNA is very similar. Our connection will allow the key to spread its energy between us seamlessly.”

  My brain came to a skidding halt. “W-wait,” I stammered, “your DNA?
”

  “We’re twins,” Aislin explained, sounding bored, then added, “Triplets actually, but our sister seems to have met her untimely end.”

  If my brain had skidded before, now it crashed and exploded in a fiery wave of chaos. I already knew who Aislin’s sister was, but had been unaware of her relation to Estus.

  “Diana?” I questioned.

  Aislin nodded.

  I knew I should have had a million questions, but the only one I could think to ask was, “Does James know?”

  Aislin eyed me cooly. “He only knows that he was grandson to Diana, who was my big sister, born just a few minutes before me. He does not know of my relation to Estus.”

  I shook my head over and over. “But if you were just working with your brother from the start, why were you at war? Your people attacked us when I was still at Estus’ Salr. The people we questioned, that James tortured, were working for you.”

  Estus chuckled. “What better way to inspire ones troops than to threaten war? What better excuse to question our people for information on the charm, than to claim that they were traitors? The executioner before you had figured it out too. He had conversed with the dead, only to realize why I sought the charm. Knowing what fate awaited him, he told others the information he had found. They had to be questioned.”

  I shook my head and turned my attention to Aislin. “But you wanted me killed. You told your people to kill me as soon as they got the chance.”

  Aislin smirked. “I did not truly believe the charm was within you, so yes, I wanted you dead, though I did not intend for my people to actually succeed. Their true purpose was simply to locate you. If they died in the process, it would have saved me the trouble of killing them myself.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut at my own stupidity. “They let you know where we were,” I replied. “Even though they expected you to kill them, they still let you know.”

  Aislin laughed, chilling me to the bone. “They did not betray you. They swore oaths to me. I can sense all of my people at all times. It is my gift.”

  I turned to Estus. “But you believed the charm was within me? I was told only one of you wanted me dead.”

  “We want the charm,” Estus explained. “We couldn’t care less what happens to you afterward. All that matters is that we will be immortal. Still, if you can prove yourself useful after the charm is ours, I would be more than happy to let you live, though I doubt my sister would agree with me.”

  I shook my head at the senselessness of it all. “So this, all of this, was because you were afraid to die?”

  “It’s more than that,” Aislin snapped, her thin lips forming an ugly snarl. “It’s what the humans did to us, burning us alive, forcing us into hiding. The Vaettir need us to lead them back into the world. To right the wrongs inflicted upon us, so many centuries ago.”

  I shook my head. “But you were the ones keeping the Vaettir underground,” I accused.

  Estus frowned. “They would have been taken down by the humans eventually. We could not have our people running amuck and getting into trouble before we were prepared. The Vaettir need strong leaders, invincible leaders, to reclaim the world for them.”

  As I reeled over that new thought, I realized Marcos had disappeared. Suddenly I had the idea that perhaps I was the one being distracted, and not the other way around. They were giving me the information I wanted to stall me from trying to act.

  I focused what little energy I had left inward, searching for the key or for Mara. I felt a distant spark, but it was like I was being blocked from them. It had to be Marcos’ doing.

  “You’re monsters,” I grunted, finding no real sense of anything. I knew my banshees still had to be out there, likely looking for me, but if Marcos was able to cut me off from the energies inside me, it was probably no extra trouble to cut me off from outside ones.

  Estus smirked. “Perhaps, but soon we’ll be gods.”

  I shook my head. I knew they were distracting me, but from what? There was nothing I could do.

  “So what about me?” I spat. “How did I become a part of this? What about my parents? Did you question and kill them too?”

  “Your parents are inconsequential,” Estus answered simply. “As you know, our people kept an eye on you while you lived amongst the humans. Over time, some began to expect you were not only an executioner, but an empath. I suspected you were imbued with the Morrigan’s energy, but told no one of my suspicions. The Morrigan’s energy is special, because she is not truly a god. You are not created in her image, you are her. Your lineage doesn’t matter. You are likely descended from some common death deity, but your energy is more. We had already been searching for the charm for centuries, and I knew if it was going to come forth to anyone, it would be someone with her magic. The key chose you, just as it chose her.”

  I shook my head, even more confused as Marcos reentered the room, carrying a tray of ritual paraphernalia. I hadn’t needed to keep the Morrigan’s presence to myself after all. Estus had known all along that I’d been descended from her, and I’d probably only confirmed it for him by revealing I was an empath.

  “What do you mean, chose her?” I asked while giving everything I had to fight against Marcos’ blockade.

  Estus grinned. “The moon has risen overhead, and so the ritual may now begin.”

  My mouth went dry. The moon? Had I been unconscious an entire day?

  Estus smiled knowingly. “Let me tell you one last story before you die, just so you truly understand. When Yggdrasil was destroyed, it formed three things: the Norns, who were the embodiment of fate; the charm, the embodiment of chaotic energy and wild magics; and the Morrigan, who had formed the roots of the tree. She was the earth, and the balance between all things.

  “When the parts of the tree were torn apart, they naturally wanted to go back together. The charm found the Morrigan, imbuing her with great powers. Many thought she was a god, though she wasn’t. She came into existence long after the old gods had left the world of man. Still, together the charm and the Morrigan were unstoppable. She would have ruled over this earth even today, if she had not been overcome by human emotions.

  “For within the Morrigan was the balance of life and death, dark and light, and all the emotions that drive the never ending cycles. She fell in love, and was betrayed. She turned to darkness, throwing off the balance that was part of her very being. It destroyed her, casting her energy out into the universe.”

  “No,” I whispered. It was all too much. Why hadn’t Mara told me?

  “Yes,” Estus replied. “When I realized just what you were, I knew the time had come. You were born to return balance, but you are too weak, too human for the job. My sister and I will have to take it from here.”

  “Enough talk,” Aislin snapped. “We must complete the ritual while the moon is still fresh in the sky.”

  My heart raced. That was it. They’d been stalling until nightfall. I tried with all of my might to summon enough energy just to get them away from me, but it was no use. Marcos approached with the tray. On it sat an ornate dagger, what looked like a chalice of blood or some other dark liquid, and two lit candles, one white and one black.

  He kneeled before me and set the tray on the ground as Estus and Aislin both took a step back.

  Marcos lifted the dagger from the tray, and before I could even react, he sliced open my forearm, still tied to the arm of the chair. A moment later, the wound began to sting as blood poured forth. He lifted the chalice to my dripping blood, letting it mingle with the dark liquid already residing within.

  “With the blood of the fates, I call you forth, lykill,” Marcos chanted, using the old Norsk term for the key.

  I panted in fear as his words flowed over me. The blood of the fates. If the Norns were the fates, did that mean . . . it all suddenly made sense. He hadn’t killed the Norns who’d sent us back in time just to rob them of their energy. He’d needed their blood to call to the key. They were the other severed part of Yggdrasil.
The key would naturally want to join with them.

  He handed the chalice, now containing an ample amount of my blood to mix with the Norns’, back to Aislin, who took a hearty swallow.

  I gagged at the sight. Not only was she drinking blood, but half of it had been lying around for several weeks.

  Next, she handed the chalice to Estus, who downed the rest of the liquid, leaving a red stain on his lips as he lowered the vessel. Estus crouched to return the chalice to the tray, then took up the candles, handing the black one to Aislin, while keeping the white for himself.

  Marcos glanced back at them, then to me. “With the balance of light and dark, I call you.”

  He placed his hands on either side of my ribcage, and I began to feel a pulling sensation, much like how it felt when Faas drained my energy. The first sign I had that the key was even still inside of me at all, was its sudden reaction to the ritual. It was being called forth.

  I gasped as the enormous energy of the key suddenly gushed outward through my skin. There was nothing to see with our eyes, but it felt like molten metal was flooding out of my pores. Marcos pulled his hands away, and they glowed with energy.

  “I cannot remove every trace from her,” he said through gritted teeth, “but it should be enough.”

  Still kneeling, he turned his upper body toward Estus and Aislin. They each took one of his hands, with the candles held in their free palms.

  I could sense the energy as it transferred to them, and suddenly I could sense everything else too. Aislin and Estus threw their heads back in identical expressions of rapture while Marcos bowed before them. The transfer of energies seemed to be taking all of Marcos’ attention, because his mental hold on me had loosened. Before I could act, Mara’s energy rushed forth, jumping into the nearest target, Marcos.

  In the blink of an eye, Marcos stood, grabbing the dagger from the tray on his way up. While Aislin and Estus were still overcome by the euphoria of their newly acquired power, Marcos shoved the dagger into the bodice of Aislin’s dress, searching upward for her heart.

  She screamed as her body collapsed, and blood blossomed on the white fabric of her dress like a red rose in winter. The candle flames flickered from the abrupt movements as Marcos withdrew the blade, leaving Aislin sputtering on the ground. He turned to where Estus had been, but he was already backing away, looking down at his sister’s corpse.