The Attic

by Rachel Xu

  He reached down and helped her to her feet with a firm hand. Her bloodied skirts were plastered to her legs and she self-consciously tucked a wet strand of hair behind her ear, and put all her weight on her good leg.

  “How badly are you hurt?” he asked again, motioning to her mangled wing. “We need to get you out of here before Morack's lemmings come to investigate. I'm surprised they aren't already here. If we saw the explosion, no doubt they heard it.” He surveyed the room.

  “I'm afraid I won't be able to fly out of here,” she said with great difficulty, the pain suffocating her voice and reducing it to a rasp. “My wing is broken and I've torn the ligaments in my leg, so I can only hobble at best. You're going to have to leave me here. Please. It's okay. Go. And take these—” She handed him the trunk keys.

  “No one else needs to die in this room,” he said gravely, looking down at the mutilated body of poor Mae. Miriam stifled a sob and closed her eyes against the unbearable sight.

  “I'll fly you out of here.”

  “There's no way you'll be able to stay airborne carrying me.” She opened her eyes. He was looking down at her tenderly.

  “I'll manage,” he said, squatting to put one sturdy arm under her knees and the other around her back, beneath her wings. He then straightened as though she weighed nothing at all, and turned and headed to the gaping hole in the wall. Her heart was pounding; surely they would plummet to their deaths. There was no way his wings were strong enough to carry her as well. But she was too weak to protest further.

  They stood in the opening and she looked down at the stone walkway far below. They'd never survive a drop to the ground from this height.

  “Here we go,” he said, leaping through the gap in the wall without further delay, keeping his wings tucked until he'd cleared the opening. Then he whipped them out to full breadth. But instead of flapping to remain airborne, as she'd anticipated, he held them straight and glided to the ground below on a steady angle.

  They landed hard at the edge of the driveway, having cleared the entire front walkway with the glide. He let out a grunt as he struggled to keep his footing while still cradling her in his arms. Coming to a full stop, he folded his wings behind him—but instead of putting her down, he continued to hold her as Moya appeared from the foliage to meet them. Miriam exchanged a look with Moya and the sudden tears that sprang up in the Oreala's eyes confirmed she had received the tacit message that Mae had perished. The three of them entered the cloak of the forest together. Overwhelmed with pain and exhaustion, Miriam rested her head on Targolan's chest and slipped out of consciousness.

  Callamous and Varkis walked on either side of Lily as they approached the mansion and went around the side to the front. Mike and the others held back, remaining in the shadows of the willow trees until the time was right to emerge. They didn't want Morack to know their numbers were so few.

  Rainwater stains remained on the driveway, but the sun had broken through the clouds and the sky was a radiant blue. On a normal day, the sun would be a welcomed sight, a friend in the sky. But today it was somehow malevolent, glaring down on Lily as though hungry to see her blood spilled.

  She swallowed hard and looked around in relief to find the front lawn deserted of all signs of life. Granted, creatures could be hiding anywhere; perhaps waiting behind every door and window.

  “Where is he?” she whispered to Varkis.

  As if summoned by her thoughts, beasts began to appear over the crest of the mansion roof and turrets.

  Others climbed out broken windows and scurried down the vine-covered walls.

  It was like goo bursting free from a container and oozing out of every crevice.

  Lily stood stock still; Callamous and Varkis equally still beside her.

  Within seconds at least thirty abominations had gathered on the lawn before them, some fifty feet away, ready to plunge at the first order.

  “I can't do this, I can't do this—” she whispered through closed lips, clenching and releasing trembling fingers.

  Varkis placed his scruffy hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze, but said nothing.

  How could it have come to this? She was nothing, a nobody. All this talk of her inherited powers seemed nothing but wishful thinking. She had yet to experience even the slightest amount of supernatural inkling, let alone power. To say nothing of skill. And what of Ian? She recalled his kiss in the tree house. It seemed like ages ago now. Yet how her heart still throbbed at the thought of him. How could he have betrayed her, betrayed them all? He'd been raised to hate, it was true, taught to be evil by a father who was the very epitome of that word—and yet—hadn't Hannah and Auguste's unconditional love for him changed all of that?

  “Where's Morack?” she asked again, banishing all thoughts of Ian; lifting her chin and squaring her shoulders. She would soon be dead and it would no longer matter whether Ian cared for her, or she him.

  The mass of creatures ahead of them were like a great mound of squirming insects—whining and twitching and drooling—but staying obediently in place—waiting for some unforeseen cue to attack.

  Without warning, the great entrance doors of the estate flung open—rent from their hinges—and slithering, creeping, leaping critters poured forth like the bursting of a dam.

  Lily gasped and started to reach instinctively for Varkis—but withdrew just as quickly to avoid any sign of weakness to the crowd before them. She squared her shoulders afresh though her limbs were like jelly.

  “He's here,” Callamous snorted in her ear. “I can feel his presence. Morack. You must order him to stop hiding, and come out and face you.”

  She took a deep breath. “Morack—” she squeaked.

  “You can't show any fear,” the unicorn warned in a sharp undertone.

  She cleared her throat. “Morack—” She said it louder this time but hardly above a whimper.

  Callamous stamped his hoof and glared at her, eyes glowing red. “You're going to get us all killed!”

  Lily could barely breathe but she forced herself to stand taller. She fisted her hands and in the most commanding voice she could summon, shouted: “Morack—get your pathetic backside out here already. I'm tired of your silly games. Face me like a man.”

  At this word, the monsters parted like the red sea, revealing a tall and strikingly handsome young man.

  He wore black armor pieced together by thousands of reptilian scales. Yet unlike the stiff metal armor of knights, this suit moved and flexed organically with his every step, like a second skin—so much so that as he began to approach, she wondered if it were not his real skin after all.

  The corner of his lips lifted in a half grin. “Ms. Lily Kline,” he said eloquently, “how long I have been waiting to meet you.”

  Who was this? Surely not Morack?

  “That's close enough,” she said, putting out a palm with feigned command.

  He paused and held out his arms as if beckoning her for an embrace, eyes lifting in a warm smile. “Come now, my dear, there is no need to be on the defensive. Can we not begin with a civil conversation and get to know one another?”

  She stared at him, studying his features, uncertain how to proceed. She dared not ask who he was, though she could only conclude he must be Morack. But he neither looked like someone capable of mass murder and evil with no equal, nor old enough to be the father of two grown sons. A heart-breaker perhaps, but an arch villain?

  Yet now that he was up close with the sun beaming down on him, she had to admit there were traces of Ian in his expressions, though the lines of his face were sharper and more square.

  All this time she'd envisioned an aging tyrant with sunken eyes and wrinkled jowls.

  “I can't imagine what we would possibly discuss with one another—” she said in a strong, clear tone that surprised her. “Unless you wish to surrender.”

  Callamous let out a snort of approval.

  Morack laughed.

  It w
as neither unpleasant nor dark. In fact, it was warm and inviting, much like Ian's laughter.

  Morack dropped his hands to his side and tilted his head like a bird, eyes narrowing in the bright sunlight. “I think it would be wise for you to listen to what I have to say and to take the time to consider my offer before you make any further responses.”

  She stared at him, waiting, heart thudding in her chest. She willed her face to remain neutral.

  “Look around you,” he said, gesturing to the beasts on either side and behind him. “You are vastly outnumbered. Any attempt to fight me will lead to your instant death. Your friends will be wiped out simultaneously and nothing will be accomplished—at least by you. Is that what you want?”

  She said nothing.

  “Don't be a fool, Lily.” The honey was gone from his voice now. He took a step closer. “Surrender yourself to me and I will spare all of your friends. None of them need die today.”

  “Liar!” Varkis barked. “You'll kill us all regardless.”

  “Do you always let your slaves do your talking for you?” Morack asked. “Do they really have so little respect for you?” He tilted his head and searched her face.

  Varkis let out a low growl but she put a hand on his arm and he quieted.

  “So—” she said. “You're asking me to sacrifice myself to save them.”

  “I think it's a fair enough trade,” he said lightheartedly, smiling.

  She took a step forward and Varkis grabbed her arm forcibly. She looked at him and shook her head. He hesitated, amber eyes lit from behind as though with a fire, and lips curled back over his canine teeth—but he let go.

  Morack watched her with hungry eyes. They were the only thing about his current demeanor that indicated his true nature. If eyes were the window to the soul then his was a dark and eternal void.

  “Why take my life though?” she asked coquettishly, stopping a foot from him and looking up into his eyes, smoothing her fingertips over his right shoulder. “A man as powerful as you ought to have a woman by his side.” She moved closer, placing both hands flat against his scaly chest and giving him a little smile.

  It was the oldest trick in the book, but he eyed her; seeming to consider.

  “I'll go with you right now if you'll give me your word that you'll spare the others,” she said, “and I'll serve you hand and foot till the end of my days. Your every wish and desire will be my command.”

  He grinned and moved in as though to kiss her.

  As he did so, she reached into her sleeve, pulled out a dagger, and went for the jugular. But before the knife could even knick his skin, he'd latched onto her wrist so tightly she thought the bones would snap. The dagger dropped from her fingers and fell to the ground as he spun her around and twisted her arm up behind her back.

  “Do you take me for a fool,” he snarled into her ear with breath as rank as Kurik's.

  She gritted her teeth together as he lifted her onto her toes by her arm.

  “You can't be all that smart,” she said, “since your own son managed to keep you locked in a vat all these years as though it were the easiest thing in the world. I figured it was worth a try.” She sounded ten times more confident than she felt.

  With a cry of unrestrained rage, he threw her to the grass.

  Chapter 35

  Lily rolled over onto her back and moved to get up, but he planted his boot on her abdomen, pinning her in place.

  With an inhuman howl he began to grow—his body shifting and distorting until he towered above her at a height of eight or nine feet. Then his skin began to melt, dripping off him like candle wax.

  She held back a cry and fought the urge to vomit as the last bit of flesh dribbled down his chin. His skull was covered in a gray web-work of muscle, making his jaw thick and powerful. His nose was a pair of slits in his face, and instead of ears, he had a hole in either side. He had six eyes: two in the regular place and two on each side of his head. Scarlet and yellow striations surrounded his pupils. He grinned revealing dozens of serrated teeth.

  The pressure on Lily's stomach increased, making breathing difficult, and she looked down at his boot, fearing he might crush her. She gasped. His feet had transformed as well: The boots had broken away to reveal elongated feet with talon-like toes. He flexed the fingers on his clawed hands.

  So, this was it.

  She had no hope in hell.

  Ian hurried through the woods toward the west side of the mansion.

  Targolan, the male Oreala, and Miriam, had met up with him in the cover of the forest after the explosion in the attic, and had explained the situation with the trunk and the enemy occupied mansion. They made plans and parted ways, the keys safely in Ian's pocket. Hannah had been ordered to stay put with the injured Miriam.

  He picked his way through tree boughs, bushes, and boulders as quickly as possible without making much noise, and within a minute had reached the willow tree across from the scullery. He took cover under its dangling branches as a pair of scarab creatures scuttled about—and decided to push through them. They made no attempt to attack, stopping short at what seemed to be the sight of his face.

  “It's me, Kurik,” he said in a low voice, taking advantage of their hesitation. “Get out of my way.” He sported the same scar as his brother now and could easily be confused for him. And if they had any doubts (he knew his jaw was much narrower), their fear of making a mistake would prevent them from challenging him.

  Ian rounded the corner of the building to find a clog of beasts. They were silent and staring in the direction of the mansion's front entrance stairs.

  His spine tingled, hands going clammy. Was he too late?

  Filling his lungs with crisp autumn air, he pushed his way through the mob, and barged into the opening upon which they all stared.

  There was Lily.

  She was on her back with Morack looming over her and transforming into his true self.

  Without a second thought, he began running toward his father, shouting, “Callamous—attack!”

  Immediately the few faithful beasts around Callamous and Varkis started screeching and howling and stomping their feet. Varkis let out a war cry and charged toward Morack, teeth and claws flashing.

  Morack looked down in surprise as Ian rammed into his side, knocking him off Lily. He grabbed at Ian with his talons, but something slammed against Ian at the same time, sending him flying backwards into the crowd where he lost sight of Lily and Morack as the hoards of beasts closed in on them.

  The sound of roaring and screaming flooded his ears like white noise.

  Looming above him was creature like a plucked turkey with the neck of an ostrich. He could not tell where the neck ended and the head began for the top of it was nothing but a gaping maw with hooked teeth and a pair of black eyes on either side.

  He leaped to his feet and transformed into his more lethal form—barring his fangs at the goose monster—and attacking.

  It had all happened so fast, Lily wasn't quite sure what was going on. Someone had shouted and then chaos erupted around her as the battle for earth began. One second Morack was pinning her down—the next she was free.

  Sweat and blood splattered around her as beasts clashed. She scrambled to her feet but talons clamped down on her shoulder—piercing her skin like hooks. Her heart lurched in her chest and she tried to pull away, but Morack only dug his talons in deeper, laughing.

  She kicked at his legs but it was like kicking stone. He was too tall for her to make any attempt at gouging out his eyes, so she clawed at his hands on her shoulders instead until her own nails tore.

  “Pathetic,” he shouted to be heard over the deafening roar, lifting her off the ground with just one hand. With the other he grabbed her by the hair and wrenched her around to face him. Holding her within inches of his ever-grinning face, he stuck out a forked tongue and licked her cheek. She jerked her head to the side and he laughed again.

  “May
be I'll roast you once I'm done killing you,” he said. “You'll be the main course of my victory dinner.”

  She continued to kick but he didn't flinch; there was no evident kink in his armor, and no sign of her having any supernatural powers whatsoever. She could never win this.

  “I'm going to enjoy killing you,” he went on, grinning and licking his teeth with the forked tongue. “Be prepared to feel pain like you've never felt before.”

  His six eyes flared and he threw her to the flagstone, knocking the air out of her. Bright lights exploded before her eyes as her head cracked backward against the ground. She groaned and staggered back up to her feet while he watched her with evident delight. She had barely straightened when he kicked her in the stomach—sending her flying ten feet through the air and colliding with the armored backside of a fighting beast. She slid to the ground, pain ricocheting through her body like forked lightning.

  Morack stormed toward her and reached for her again, talons outspread—but Varkis appeared and interceded, lunging at his throat.

  As if he were nothing but a mosquito to be swatted, Morack grabbed the dog-man by the jaw and wrenched it open, snapping the joints, and then tossed him into the crowd.

  “Where were we,” he hissed, closing his talons around her ankles as she struggled to get away.

  She kicked frantically at his hands as he dragged her toward him.

  Hideous beasts pressed against Ian at all sides, pinning him in place. Claws sliced his back and teeth grazed his legs.

  Something lunged from behind and he thrust a dagger into its gut. The beast crashed to the ground. Another attacked from the right but he grabbed it by the throat and crushed its windpipe.

  Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Mike backing up against the ivy-clad wall of the mansion, swinging a sword back and forth like a gimp. For a split second he considered going to his aid but in that very moment of distraction a burning warmth covered his ear as a beast prepared to close its jaws around his throat. Before he could react a loud thwhack sounded and the beast fell away to the ground.