Chaos Unbound (The Metis Files Book 2)

by Brian S. Leon

  Chapter 5

  I made it about ten miles, well into the town of Lakeside, before I pulled over in a fast-food restaurant parking lot. After giving the cops a cursory check, I left them. Both were still unconscious but breathing, which was good enough for me. I grabbed a cell phone and a baton, thinking I could call Duma and Ab as soon as I got somewhere I could lie low.

  I was a few miles from Lake Jennings, and I could hide out there until dawn. Things might be a bit easier in the daylight. While I expected the lake to be empty early in the day, I hoped that a city full of people getting back to their usual business would slow my pursuers down and allow me to get back on the run and maybe hook up with Ab and Duma. The normal fae disdain for human interaction hadn’t really helped me so far, but it was all I had going for me at the moment. The simple fact that fairies were actively chasing me through heavily populated areas just underlined the urgency of the situation. To make matters worse, all I had to defend myself was a wooden baton, and I was pretty sure the police would soon be searching for someone with my description, if they weren’t already. All in all, I was screwed.

  Walking to the park, I made my way along the lakeshore until I found a secluded spot away from the largely empty campground to hunker down and make my phone call. I chose an area that was both isolated and offered the most cover along the northern edge, and tried to think transparent thoughts. I quickly found out the phone was passcode protected. The only thing I could do was dial 9-1-1, and I was likely already wanted by the police. I tossed the phone into the water. Wired and disgusted, I found myself wondering what the bass bite was like as the sky started to lighten off to my east. While I watched the water’s smooth, still surface for signs of feeding fish, the ground began to rumble.

  The slight movement quickly became intense enough to cause the water to ripple. While Southern California certainly has its share of minor earthquakes, the disturbance was too localized to be a natural phenomenon. Things just keep getting better and better.

  I scanned the area. Ten yards up the hill from me, an odd upwelling of dirt erupted like water bubbling from a spring. I contemplated running but decided I would end up far too exposed along the water’s edge. So I hunkered down, waited, and watched as two huge clawed hands broke the surface, followed by a familiar shaggy black-furred creature. I readied my wooden baton and prepared to hit the thing first—and hard.

  Before it could completely pull itself free from its burrow, I circled around behind it. For a moment, I watched as its stumpy head rose out of the dirt and it noisily sniffed the air, trying to gain my scent. The damned thing probably tracked me across the city by the metallic smell of the blood of the security guards. As it crouched, I could see that part of its side was matted and caked with dirt, leading me to believe this was the same creature I’d impaled last night. Then something else occurred to me: maybe being a creature of earth, it was one of the fae that couldn’t tolerate water, either.

  I charged and hit the creature in its lower back with the baton braced across my forearm. The tackle would have made Lawrence Taylor jealous. It probably would have broken the back of any normal being. Luckily, I managed to catch it off guard, and it was injured. I was hoping to knock it off balance and maybe drive it toward the lake, but I hit it hard enough that we both fell and rolled right down to the water’s edge. I got to my feet first and began to circle in behind it again. The last thing I wanted was to face those claws unarmored, with only a wooden baton—especially since they’d sliced through rebar.

  The beast took a few seconds to regain its footing, jerking away from the water as if it had accidentally gotten too close to a fire. Before it could gain its composure, I hit it again, lowering my shoulder and shoving as hard as I could toward the lake. The creature’s footing gave way, and we both tumbled into the water.

  And all hell broke loose.

  The creature began thrashing and howling like a cat in a bath—if the cat were the size of a tiger. Flailing, the beast nailed me across my left shoulder, knocking me back up onto the bank, and I dropped the baton. The panicked creature continued to writhe so violently that it kept getting deeper and deeper, and the howls became wilder and wilder. Luckily, no one was around. I couldn’t help but watch—partly in amazement—as I picked myself up. I had never seen a fairy with water issues actually come into contact with water before, and I had no idea what would happen. Much to my horror, it seemed to be melting as chunks of black fur began sloughing off. All at once, I felt appalled and guilty, wishing I had some sort of real weapon to end its misery.

  I’m not sure how long I sat staring, mesmerized while sickened with myself and the scene. Mercifully, the howling and thrashing ended, leaving several floating mats of black fur in the shallow water. While he was a foe and I have no qualms about killing those that take up arms against me or any human with intent to inflict harm, there was no honor in letting a being suffer to its death. Despite my predicament, I felt as though I’d been gut-punched.

  “Stay where you are,” said a strong, clear woman’s voice from behind me. It was familiar, and the tone instantly sent shivers up my spine. “Get on your knees and place your hands behind your head.”

  I sighed heavily but didn’t move. An arrow pierced the ground next to my butt so deeply that it left only the fletching above ground.

  “I will not ask a second time, Diomedes. You have killed Her Majesty’s Bugganes and wounded my favorite hound. I am within my rights to ask restitution in the form of your life, but the Queen requires you to stand trial. Now, on your knees.”

  Yep. I recognized the attitude that went with the voice, and the comment about her hounds confirmed it.

  “Hello, Belphoebe. It’s been a while,” I said, glancing back over my shoulder at her.

  While I might have overpowered her, I would never have been able to move fast enough to engage her directly or even run away. And there was no chance of persuading her I was innocent. Of course they would send her after me. She was my counterpart for the Unseelie Court, holding a title equivalent to duchess. Like almost all female fae, she was devastatingly gorgeous, and she knew it. Like most of the members of the fairy courts, she was a true Sidhe, the progenitor race of all fae, and during the Great Schism millennia ago, she’d chosen to follow Mab rather than Titania. I was screwed. And she knew I knew it.

  “Still twelfth in line to the throne?” I figured she could have shot me any time she wanted, so she really did want me alive.

  Standing nearly a hundred and fifty feet away, she nocked an arrow and drew down on me. I knew from experience that she was deadly accurate with her bow at over a hundred yards. I cringed slightly, mostly inwardly, so she couldn’t tell I was cringing, preparing for an arrow to the back. She was a first-class predator, and I didn’t want to show her my fear. If I did show any weakness and somehow survived this mess, she would throw it back in my face for centuries to come. Those are the injuries you really want to avoid.

  “Still killing the sick and infirmed for kicks?” I asked.

  “Still an arrogant ass?” She walked closer, still aiming at me. Her long auburn hair was trussed into a tight braid over one shoulder, and her red eyes were ablaze in the morning light.

  “No more than you—”

  She fired, and the arrow hit me in a glancing blow in the outer bicep, but the impact still caused me to twist slightly. It happened so fast, I didn’t really feel it. Until after.

  “Owwww,” I said, trying not to reveal that it had caught me off guard or that, even though it was clearly a flesh wound, it really hurt. I turned my head away from her defiantly, taking a few deep, steadying breaths.

  “Her Majesty wants you alive,” she said, the disdain evident in her tone. “Your condition upon delivery is entirely up to me.”

  While no creature could hear well enough to hear her footfalls—not even across loose gravel—I did hear the t
elltale stretching noise of her drawing the bow, closer and just to the right behind me.

  “I suggest you kneel, Diomedes, because I can easily make it so that you can never stand unaided again.”

  I could almost hear the smile on her face. I watched her as she approached cautiously. A copse of trees stood on either side of us, with the water at my back. The trees to my left were bigger than the ones to my right and offered more protection, but I would never make it before she fired. My options were limited to stupid or none.

  “So…” I said, trying to stall. “How’s Amoret?”

  Belphoebe’s twin sister was a sore spot, and I intended to use the fact that they were complete opposites to annoy her into making a mistake. Where Belphoebe was belligerent, her sister was exasperatingly pleasant—and a member of the Seelie Court, to boot. It was the only hot button I could think to push at the moment.

  Surprisingly, it worked, too. Belphoebe lowered the bow a fraction of an inch, and I bolted for the larger trees to my left. I dove behind the largest tree as something flew past my butt.

  “Aw, come on, Pheebs, you’re ruining my good fishing pants,” I shouted, crouching behind a tree. Rather than poking my head out, I used the reflection in the water behind us to track her movement. The last thing I needed was a new part in my hair.

  She continued to advance while she pulled out another arrow. Before she nocked it, however, I watched her reflection dip the broadhead tip into a small horn container she wore on her belt. Doubt that’s a painkiller.

  “I will give you one more chance to give yourself up with honor,” she said.

  “Never of my own free will. There is no honor in it, Pheebs. Would you surrender if you were in my position?”

  “I suppose not,” she said, closing to within twenty feet.

  I had nowhere to go without exposing myself to her. “I guess we’re at an impasse then.”

  “Not necessarily,” she said.

  I heard the odd squeak of her drawing back the bow, followed by a resounding thuup. Almost simultaneously, I felt the arrow hit the tree, then something poked me in the ribs where I leaned against the trunk.

  Sonofabitch. Definitely not painkiller.

  Chapter 6

  I woke up in pitch darkness, but I could hear water drips and occasional tapping sounds coming from somewhere near my feet. The only thing I could smell was myself—fishy, sweaty, and generally rank. I sat up slowly, feeling around, trying to gain some sense of my location. I felt some sort of rock wall to my left, and I could sit up without trouble, but searing pain in my butt, shoulder, and upper back reminded me what had happened. Reaching around to my upper back, I found some sort of dressing over the wound where Belphoebe’s arrow had jabbed me through the tree. The entire area was tender and sore but otherwise okay. That was the worst of my injuries, except the one to my pride.

  I’m not sure how much time actually passed, but it wasn’t the first time I’d been held prisoner in a dank hole. Darkness is one thing, but pitch-black is something else entirely. It’s disconcerting, unnerving, and just plain annoying. I knew that, eventually, the blackness would turn cold—even if it really wasn’t—then I would lose all sense of balance. Sounds eventually become magnified, and every noise or vibration is interpreted as a threat. The mind falls apart. And it happens fast.

  I also knew that’s why I was being kept this way. My captors wanted to soften me up, and though I’d been in similar situations before, it never got easier. The last time was during the Basque Witch Trials in Logroño, Spain in 1609. I was imprisoned for trying to free several of the benevolent witches that had been offered up by truly nasty ones. As with my imprisonment then, I tried to focus on building a mental picture of the hole I was in, and that meant I needed to feel around to get to know my surroundings. I found I could stand up and walk from wall to wall without smacking my head, and my outstretched hands couldn’t touch the ceiling. The room was about three paces by three paces, or roughly eighty square feet. The walls were featureless and smooth, hard stone, except along one wall, where I thought I found a seam or crack.

  At first, I hoped the anomaly might outline a door, but it became less distinct the more I explored it. As I followed the fissure from the floor, up the wall, across a short span, and back down to the floor again, it became clear the seam wasn’t much of a joint because neither air, nor light passed through it. I couldn’t blow through it, either, and I found no sign of any kind of hinges. It was also small—maybe three feet by three feet—but its surface was completely different from the rest of the cell. Oddly, the small section was somehow warmer and felt like hard, highly polished wood.

  I pushed on it with all my strength, which actually caused it to flex a bit. Doing so, however, elicited a low, guttural groan from the surrounding wall that sounded as though I’d disturbed a sleeping animal.

  Great. Just great. What kind of fairy hell am I in?

  To make sure I wasn’t hallucinating, I pushed on it again. In response, the whole cell quavered, though nothing cracked or collapsed, and I had to drop to my hands and knees to keep from falling in the dark.

  Screw it.

  I backed up the few steps it took to cross the cell to the wall opposite and charged the small section of wall with every ounce of strength remaining in me. To my surprise, the area gave, absorbing the impact completely without making a sound. Even stranger, as hard as I hit it, I didn’t even feel the impact. It was like running into a wall of gelatin. Then it sprang back and flung me into the opposite wall like a rag doll, making me hit my head hard enough that I blacked out.

  At some point, I woke up with someone standing above me wreathed by a dim light, their features completely masked by the darkness.

  “Did you have a nice rest, Diomedes?”

  I hoped Belphoebe’s echoing voice emanated from the figure standing over me rather than from places as yet unseen.

  “Ugh,” I replied, propping myself up on my elbows.

  Even though the light was faint, I had to shield my eyes with one hand and squint to focus. The little that I could make out showed that I was right about the room’s dimensions. I could not see the ceiling at all—it simply disappeared into darkness above. Across from me, the section of wall I’d bounced off actually did resemble light-colored wood, but its highly polished surface kept shifting patterns in the dim light. Of course, it could have been my aching head swimming, too.

  I slowly pulled myself up to a seated position and rubbed my pounding head and the sizable knot that had formed above my ear. “You wouldn’t happen to have any aspirin, would you, Pheebs?” I asked, my voice cracking from a dry mouth.

  “No. Like I said, my lady asked only that I bring you in alive. She did not specify your condition,” she said with a smug lilt to her voice.

  “When I get out of here, you and I are going to have words,” I said, continuing to rub my head. “And by words, I mean I’m going to kick your ass.” That got me thinking about escaping. When the door opened for her to leave, I might have a tiny window of opportunity. Pheebs was under the assumption I was cowed and maybe too injured to try, so she wouldn’t expect it.

  She sniggered and shifted so that the light was no longer coming from behind her, and I could see she was dressed in the customary courtly armor I’d seen her wear for solemn occasions. It consisted of the long, formal dark-blue surcoat worn by a Lady of the Royal Court, except—befitting her role as Guardian of the Unseelie Court—hers was armored with fist-sized translucent black scales. Her ornate cuirass was covered in the same scales as her skirt. She appeared to be unarmed. Even better for an escape attempt.

  Like all Sidhe and many fae, she bore no scars, which might lead someone to think she had never seen real combat, but I have seen her so bloodied from fighting on one rare occasion where we fought together that it would have meant death to a lesser creature.
She was fearless in battle, and equally as ruthless. She had no concept of compassion or forgiveness; that indifference was typical of the Sidhe since they lacked almost all human emotions. In fact, she’d once told me she regarded me as a kindred spirit, but that my weakness was I allowed myself to feel.

  “So you never answered me… how’s Amoret?” I asked, trying to get a rise out of her while I waited for the right moment to make a move.

  She kicked me hard for my effort—right in the side of my chest. And to make matters worse, the scales covering her damned long skirt had cut my cheek. I tried to roll with the kick, but I had nowhere to go, so I ended up curled into a ball, desperately trying to suck air into my lungs.

  As I sat there, forcing myself to inhale, the odd, small section of wall shifted then evaporated into a much larger door-sized opening. Belphoebe turned to leave, and I saw my opportunity. Biting back the pain, I scrambled to my feet as quickly as I could and charged her, but my efforts were clumsy and way too slow. Before I could hit her, she stepped aside and brought a heavily armored forearm down across the back of my neck. I dropped like a lead weight, but I’d made it far enough out of the cell to see that the space beyond the door was an unending, dimly lit hallway of brown rock. Pheebs dragged me back into the cell by one foot.

  “I’d have been disappointed if you didn’t at least try,” she said as I fought to gather my wits. “Get some rest, Diomedes. Your trial will begin soon.”

  “Eat shit,” I said through clenched teeth.

  She left the room, the doorway closed up, then the dim light in my cell faded to pitch-black again.

  Chapter 7

  Even if I had escaped the cell, I had no idea where I would have gone. But like Pheebs said, I had to try. I wallowed in the darkness for some time before I decided I needed to focus on something to keep from going crazy. Belphoebe had said my trial would be soon, but to an immortal creature, time was irrelevant, so who knew what that meant. If I went batty in the meantime, my delirium would only make it easier for them to convict me of killing Indronivay.