by L. L. McNeil
Seila could tell the assassin wasn’t about to back down, even against Fallow.
Tej, clearly uncomfortable with the raised voices, remained glued to his phone screen. His eyes didn’t even flicker up.
Seila could understand Tress’s hesitation in accepting Ashante’s tracking. The young Enchantress—and Fallow—had tried to locate Gorath’s Mirage to little avail. Although she had something more to focus on this time around, what was to say the result wouldn’t be exactly the same as it had before?
Of course, they wouldn’t be so dependant on Ashante locating the Mirage had Tress not engaged Gorath in battle. That had been the issue which had started off all their problems.
‘I have faith in the same,’ Fallow said. ‘And I’ve seen what Ashante is capable of. You’ll see it, too, Lady Tress.’
Tress snorted, then winced. She shifted her position, tried to sit up.
‘Stay where you are. Gorath did a lot of damage. You’ll need to be in bed a while.’
‘What?’
‘You don’t want to collapse as soon as you face him, do you?’
Tress swallowed, hesitating. ‘No…’
‘Good. Then you’ll remain here until you’re recovered.’ Fallow’s tone suggested no argument.
Tress hurled herself out of bed then, the covers flying as she shoved them off her. Fallow darted forward, dropping her armful of books in the process, but she wasn’t fast enough. Tress’s legs buckled under her and she collapsed to the floor with a shriek.
Fallow gently grabbed Tress under her armpits and lifted her to her feet. ‘You can’t be doing that.’
Tress’s top half was bandaged so heavily she really did look like one of those cartoon mummies from Halloween. Bright red blood seeped from her side, staining the brilliant white cotton. She wore loose cotton shorts that stopped just above her knee, and Seila saw her tattoo fully. Both her calves were covered in the intricate draconic pattern, still clearly visible despite all the bruises and old scars that criss-crossed her legs.
Seila remained where she was, half caught between staring and helping Fallow with the demon assassin. In the end, Fallow had everything under control. She gently, but firmly, put Tress back in bed. She fluffed up the pillows and pulled the covers back over her. ‘You’ll be able to get out of here when you can walk, but that won’t be for some time.’
From Tress’s twisted facial expressions, Seila guessed the woman was in a great deal of pain. Pride, perhaps, prevented her from audibly screaming or making any noise.
The tiniest flutter of pity crossed through Seila’s chest, but it disappeared almost as quickly as it arose.
‘The doctor will be back again soon. You can’t keep moving or you’ll drain the country’s supply of bandages.’ Fallow spoke with a light-hearted tone, but her humour was lost on Tress.
She fell back into the pillows and glared sullenly at the ceiling.
Even from where Seila stood, she could tell Tress was doing everything in her power to avoid Fallow’s gaze.
‘I’ll be down later to see how you are, and Delgo will bring you something to eat.’
Silence.
The corners of Seila’s lips twitched at Tress’s childlike silent tantrum.
Fallow made her way back to the edge of Tress’s bed and stooped down to pick up the books she’d dropped. She placed them on Tej’s bedside. ‘Try these. You’re going to get bored here, you might as well keep your mind sharp while you wait.’
Tej glanced up from his phone as if seeing Fallow for the first time. ‘Thanks, Fallow. I’m feeling much better, now. Really.’
Fallow took his shoulder with both hands and gently prodded about.
Tej winced.
‘Not quite yet, I’m afraid. At least you and Tress have each other for company while you heal.’
Tej didn’t even try to mask his disappointment at that, which Seila found even more amusing than Tress’s childish behaviour.
‘Seila.’
She glanced up when Fallow addressed her. ‘Yes?’
‘I don’t think your presence will help Tress’s recovery. With Ashante busy trying to find Gorath’s Mirage, I’d be much happier if you were outside listening. You’ll hear the demons approach before anyone else. Even Sierra has to see them for me to know where they are.’
It was a thinly veiled dismissal. But Seila had spent too long down in the infirmary. She’d not thought Caramond House would be in much danger because Fallow’s enchantments were back in full force, and Gorath had been hours away when they’d last seen him and his demons.
As much as she wanted to talk to Fallow about everything—her soul, Phantoms—Gorath was more important. Once he was put down, Fallow would have the time to answer her questions.
It was time to get back to work. She didn’t want to lose her strength again because she wasn’t keeping on top of the hunt. ‘You’re right. I’ll go now.’
Fallow nodded, her shoulders dropping slightly. Had she been tense? Ready for another argument or fight?
Seila didn’t like the way everyone seemed to tiptoe around her. Tress was the one throwing her weight around with those axes. At least she never brought out her sword unless battle was imminent.
What was so wrong with Phantoms?
Seila gave Tress one final glance, saw her full of guilt and rage, and then made her way out of the room. She hadn’t even reached the door when it banged open and Ashante raced in.
The Enchantress slipped on the floor, braced herself with her arm and managed to stay upright. ‘Fallow! Fallow, I’ve done it! The blood worked!’
‘You’ve found the Mirage?’
Ashante nodded, her chest heaving with emotion. ‘You’ll never guess how close we were, before!’
‘Excellent. Now we can put a stop to this nonsense. Does Claes know?’
‘Not yet, I came straight to tell you.’ Ashante panted, tried to catch her breath.
‘Find Damon and Claes. You’re all to leave immediately. Is the Mirage far?’
Seila stiffened. A torrent of emotions rushed through her—fear and excitement predominated.
‘We can be there in a couple of hours,’ Ashante said. She turned and raced back out of the room, no doubt looking for the Elementals.
Fallow followed a moment later, her skirts skimming the floor.
Seila hovered in the doorway. She felt Tress’s eyes burning into her, but she didn’t give the assassin the satisfaction. Without a glance back, Seila exited the infirmary to prepare herself for their next mission.
16
Tej’s car rumbled along the road, sounding angrier and angrier with every mile it devoured. Damon drove his best friend’s car, with Ashante navigating from the front seat. Seila sat on the back seat, beside Claes.
Although Fallow was certain her enchantments would hold against Gorath—or any of his demons—she didn’t want to stay there alone, and kept Delgo with her. While she trusted Claes’s experience to assist, Sierra also flew with them, keeping Fallow informed of everything that occurred.
Ashante was excited about her breakthrough, but both Damon and Claes were grim-faced. Damon’s mood was probably more down to concentration than anything else. His car was a rustbucket. Tej’s was pristine, restored to almost new, and didn’t have a single scratch on it. And it belonged to his best friend. Driving it probably took up all the concentration he could muster.
With Fallow and Delgo able to use their powers to teleport—though Fallow had flatly denied this, Seila saw no other way of describing how they disappeared and reappeared—Caramond House had no vehicles. They could hire one, if they needed to get somewhere quickly, but the point of the Kouzlo looking after this part of the territory was that they didn’t need to travel too far, so they’d never bothered to buy or lease any.
Claes looked particularly uncomfortable, his bulk squashed under the sloping roof of Tej’s Mustang. But he didn’t complain. The Elemental couldn’t have looked more out of place, which Seila found rather a
musing. Claes reminded her of a Viking. A larger than life, ancient, immovable man who was of the earth—the personification of the fjords and wild tundras of Scandinavia. He was stubborn, strong, and the epitome of determination and hard work. When squashed into a car—even an older one, as Tej had frequently told Seila his Mustang was—he looked very strange.
On her part, she’d prefer to be in the air, with Sierra. But not knowing where they were going and wanting to be at full strength in case there were demons waiting for them at the Mirage, meant that staying in the car made the most sense for her. That, and she could really do without crossing paths with another Dragora—or a swarm of them.
Damned Blood Thieves.
She touched the scar on her chest—her newest one. She’d seen them feed on people countless times, and had slain hundreds of them. But she’d never, ever, been caught by one.
Was she losing her touch?
The road wound away, changing from smooth motorway to a less maintained country road.
‘Ashante. Do you know the end location?’ Claes asked.
The Enchantress twisted around in her seat. ‘I checked the map back at Caramond House before we left. Just fields are marked down, but I think it’s another old farm.’
Claes’s moustache twitched.
Seila had fought beside the Kouzlo Leader only once before, when Gorath had stormed Caramond House. The thought of fighting with him in an open field or on farmland made Seila more than a little nervous. She’d seen the destructive powers of the Elementals before. She doubted Claes would hold back if there was another demon horde coming through the Mirage.
Then again, Damon had been improving his runework. Would he do the sealing while Claes provided cover?
She didn’t know which way around it would go. But she didn’t trust either of the Elementals’ fires. It was too unpredictable, and could too easily injure her as well as the demons.
And as much progress as Damon had made, he was still relatively uncontrolled. It was made worse when he was fatigued, which he became rather quickly considering he hadn’t had much experience fighting demons or using his powers.
Ashante had a few tricks up her sleeve to distract or confuse demons, but she wasn’t a fighter any more than Fallow was.
So, Seila knew it would mostly be down to her.
Sekki’s Mirage had been awash with demons—but she supposed he had been there, too. They were driving in the opposite direction to where they’d last seen Gorath, so Seila hoped the Elite Demon wouldn’t stumble upon them mid-seal.
If that was the case, the only demons she’d need to worry about would be the few that trickled through naturally. And she’d be more than capable of taking care of those.
Hopefully.
She thought back to all her recent encounters with Prowlers. If there was any time Seila actually wanted Tress with them, it was against the damned Shadow Strikers. Her axes cut them down like they were made of papier-mâché.
Much as she hated to admit it, Seila knew she wasn’t anywhere near Tress’s level yet. She clutched the fabric of her jeans, knuckles whitening.
‘We’ll be there in a few minutes,’ Ashante said, breaking Seila from her thoughts.
‘Shall I fly?’
‘You may have to. I don’t think we’ll be able to park very close.’
Seila nodded even though Ashante couldn’t see her as she’d faced forward again. This was already reminding her too much of the industrial estate and the shipping containers. So long as there weren’t any Dragora nearby, she’d be fine. She was sure.
She’d always been too driven, too focused, to ever allow self-doubt to affect her. That, and her hunts almost always went well. Seila had never taken such a clear knock to her confidence before. Mostly, she blamed Tress for that.
Seila closed her eyes and listened. She could hear demons, but that wasn’t unusual. They were either too far away, or there were too few of them, for her to make out their exact words. But she could feel their emotions, their desire to hunt and feed.
There was no panic, fear, or excitement like those with Gorath. No, these ones had to be new to the world. That was good. ‘There aren’t too many demons. We have a window.’
Claes grunted his acknowledgement, the closest he’d come to a proper smile. Seila was happy to take what she could get. Claes had a short temper and little patience, as she’d seen with Damon. Tej was a great balancer between them—carefree enough to get on with Damon’s lackadaisical nature, but skilled enough to impress Claes—and without their crossbow-wielding companion, the mood was tense.
Seila was impressed. She’d never thought she’d miss Tej’s company.
And she missed Tress, too. Or, more specifically, Tress’s axes and the two immortal dragon souls they carried.
She sighed as Damon turned sharply off the main road and down a narrow side street. It was unlit, the thick canopy overhead from trees either side covered them and cast a heavy shadow over the car. The sudden coolness sent a chill down Seila’s spine, but she tried not to let it distract her.
They had work to do.
This time, Seila knew exactly what she was looking for.
Ashante’s tracking spell enabled her to find the rough location of the Mirage, but as far as an exact location, they needed to look the old-fashioned way.
And that meant that Seila took to the sky again.
At least now she’d seen a Mirage, she knew what to look for. When they’d been after Sekki’s Mirage, she’d been stumbling around blindly, even though she’d had Delgo with her at the time.
She gave herself a few minutes to allow her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Ashante had been right—they were on abandoned farmland. Seila could see the ruins of what might have once been a farm, but was little more than a pile of stone bleached almost white by the sun. Carts and wheelbarrows had been left nearby, as well as rusted farm equipment and a large cow shed that was missing its roof. Straw still filled the shed, but it would be home to little more than mice, now.
There was definitely no Mirage there.
She swooped away from what was left of the barn and made her way across the grounds. The place looked like no-one had set foot here in years, and she wondered how many demons even passed through. She could still hear them, of course, and she really had to look before she spotted them. A handful of Toxic Fangs cowered underneath an old tractor, shivering in the shadows and flattening themselves to the ground as she passed.
Ordinarily, Seila would have taken her sword out and rid herself of them. But doing so would cause the demons to make more noise, would intensify their fear, and might alert Gorath to their presence.
If Sekki’s reaction had been anything to go by, then Gorath wouldn’t like the idea of his Mirage—the link to his world and power—being cut off. So the longer they could remain undetected, the more chance they had of sealing the Mirage without any of the demons discovering them.
She left the Toxic Fangs to cower and headed further north, towards the wild, overgrown field that bordered the edge of the farm. A low wooden fence encircled the field, but it was in a state of disrepair. Several slats had rotted away or fallen, and the fence no longer functioned as a proper barrier. Weeds had overgrown, covering the field of whatever vegetables or grain had once grown here. The grasses were tall, now—at least four feet high—and Seila was immeasurably grateful that she could fly. Having scouted the farm and found nothing, she had decided the Mirage must be somewhere in the tall grasses.
Seila glanced back and saw Ashante leading the others across the farm, their silhouettes dim in the dark. She then flew over the fence and across the overgrown field, eyes scanning below all the while. Sierra hovered a short way ahead, a pale, ghostly smear against the dark night, but even the owl’s superior night vision hadn’t located the Mirage, yet.
Ashante couldn’t be wrong, could she?
Seila shoved the negative thoughts away and peeled off in the opposite direction to Sierra. There was no point them bot
h covering the same ground. She was about to give up and try another patch of the field, when a small, pulsing light caught her eye. Seila dived towards it, a grin splitting her face when she realised the light was pale purple.
Immediately, she held out her hand, her Sieken Blade materialising, and she tilted her sword back and forth in the moonlight. The signal that she’d found what they were looking for.
Seila hovered where she was, waited for Ashante and the others to make their way through the grass and towards her. With the plants so overgrown and the weeds so thick, it was no wonder they hadn’t spotted anything. Seila had needed to be practically on top of the Mirage before she’d even noticed its light.
The Mirage looked small, too. It had to be about half the size of Sekki’s. And this one didn’t lead to the demon world. This one led to Tress’s home—where dragons lived and fire reigned supreme. Seila wondered what it was like, wondered if it was scarier or safer than the demon world. All she knew about it was there were Phantoms there, too, and that dragons ruled.
In between the pulses of light, she could just make out trees through the Mirage—where the two dimensions touched. Funny. She’d half expected the whole thing to be constantly on fire. Seila lowered her altitude, hovering only five or six feet off the ground, to get a better look at the thing. She wondered what it would be like to pass through the Mirage, to cross from one dimension and into another. Would the air be thinner or thicker? Would the colours shift? What would the demons be like?
She wondered if taking a leaf from Tress’s book, and crossing dimensions to hunt down demons wouldn’t be a bad idea. Seila didn’t have long to ponder. Seila heard Claes’s heavy steps and angry huffing as he shoved the waist-high grasses out of the way. He was not a stealthy person.
‘Excellent,’ Ashante praised, hurrying forward past Claes’s bulk and skidding to a halt a handful of paces from the edge of the Mirage. ‘Do you see any demons? I can feel them lurking nearby.’
‘Yeah, there’s a few around.’ Seila turned her head to look back towards the empty farm. ‘Nothing we can’t handle. I’ll keep an eye out.’