Joe rubbed his forehead. “Okay, so, they think we’re a bunch of drug-addled weirdos. I can live with that. Not great, but I wasn’t going to have them in my wedding party or anything anyway.”
Her voice got tiny. “Yes, but I heard a couple of them talking before I came over here, saying they thought they should tell people who are marked that it’s some kind of new age scam and warn them that they might be targeted for bad shit because they have the sigil.”
“Well, that was fucking stupid,” said Dionne. “Thanks for undoing all our work.”
“Stop it,” I said. “She’s suffering enough. Anyway, a couple-few people can’t track down everyone we marked over the last few hours.”
“And if the people they talk to, talk to other folks?” Tamar shot me a look. “It could get all over camp in an hour.”
That was true. I was pissed at Vivi, too, but I couldn’t bring myself to smack her down for it. She looked so miserable and fragile.
Sara sat by Vivi’s feet and patted her leg. “You were trying to help. It’s not your fault they decided to be assholes about it.” She looked around at all of us. “Hey, maybe some people who hear that it’s a witchy thing will just be more into it. Put more power into the chants at the fire. Right? Maybe it’ll balance out or even turn out for the best.”
“Please let me help tonight.” Vivi looked all the more pitiful for the deep shadows under her big eyes. “For real help. Whatever you need. I want to make it up, if I can. I want to fight back.” Her gaze fell to her lap. “And I don’t feel like being around my camp right now.”
Tamar and Dionne looked at each other, a silent conversation. Tamar tipped her head and Dionne gave a single nod. Tamar turned to Vivi. “Fine. We can use extra hands. But listen, no more blabbing. We’re doing our best to squash this thing with as much of Morph as possible in blissful ignorance. Got it?”
“Got it. Thank you. I’m really sorry.”
“It is what it is,” said Tamar. “We don’t have a lot of time till the burn. Let’s get cracking.”
We finished dinner, and then everyone but Vivi changed clothes. “Anything comfortable to move in, bonus if it covers a lot of you or is made outta something tough,” Dionne instructed. “Double bonus if you got any ritual clothes or jewelry.”
I barely had clothes, at this point. Sara took me down to the Goblin Market to see if the costume shop was still open, but the trailer had been locked up for the night. “I think I can still lend you something else.”
I wanted to protest, but if I wore my own clothes and they got ripped--or I got blood all over them--I didn’t have any way to replace them. “Just give me something old and crappy.”
She laughed. “Girl, have you looked at me?”
By the time I was outfitted in yoga pants and a t-shirt and hoodie, everyone else was dressed and bustling around Dionne’s supplies.
Our main weapons were ridiculously simple: water guns, commandeered from the Radicals’ water battle armory. We all looked at Dionne with just a little bit of disbelief. “Keep them filled from these buckets.” She opened one of the containers of War Water, the ones I’d helped empty the blue bottles into.
I looked into the bucket. The water was discolored and something black and spongy floated in it. “What’s in this?”
“Rusty nails, Spanish moss, some black salt,” said Dionne. “I brought a few smaller jars that I got prepped, so I used those nails and moss as starters. Didn’t have time to let it all rust and rot in there on its own. Now. First line of defense tonight is the wards around camp. Once they’re fired up, they’re strong enough to last till maybe dawn on their own, but if there’s enough bogeys throwing themselves against it, they’ll go down. Just like if you slammed a wrecking ball into a brick wall, right?”
Tamar pulled on rubber wash gloves and dunked a pistol to fill it. “If they come through together and we can figure out the right spot, we can head them off there and try to beat them back. But we gotta be ready that they might be spread out all over, or there’ll be enough of them that we gotta beat a retreat.”
Dionne opened another bucket, pulled on gloves, and dunked another water pistol. “They get through, then we stay more to the center of camp, wherever they got loud music or drumming. That’s where the most folks’ll be vulnerable. Folks we marked should be safe, even if they’re trancing out. Keep sharp for anybody that’s real blissed out. If one of them little shits starts to invade, trust me, y’all know. The way they move, their eyes get real weird, they just up and change what they’re doing, they seem violent or creepy, you’ll see it. It’s gonna freak you out, so be ready. If you’re lucky enough to be close right when it starts, use the water gun. Right in the face, back of the neck, anywhere they got bare skin but the closer to their head, the better. Make sure, real sure, you thinking about hurting the bogey in them and not that person, right? The rust and rot and salt and spells gonna put a hurt on the bogeys and loosen their grip, but also it’s just getting cold water to the face. No one around you is gonna think any worse than maybe you’re a asshole if they see you shooting a water pistol, but it’s gonna snap the person out of trance, and sometimes that’s enough to kick the bogey out. If the water don’t do enough, slap them. Or pinch them hard, or shove them to the ground. Harder to explain to the rangers, but it’s a step up of the same thing, waking the person out of trance.”
Tamar looked around at all of us, her face grim. “If they’re too far gone even then, watch out. By then, they’re gonna be way stronger than you’d think, real violent, and acting like they’re drunk. Mean drunk.”
“Any spirits in human bodies get giddy with being physical, so be ready for, basically, a giant out of control id. In that case, we’re gonna lure them out of sight and y’all will be the ones holding them down while Tamar or me try to force it out.” Dionne picked up another gun to fill. “Oh right, and also, if them wild fae get up in your face, this water’s gonna set them screaming. Be real careful not to shoot it at one of the good guys. This shit got iron in it. And also use gloves to refill, right? Don’t get it on yourself.”
“But there’s something we gotta watch out for.” Tamar looked at me. “These things will go after any of us, but we know for a fact that they know Mari after she fucked up their lair. We gotta assume that one of their goals now is going to be to hurt or kill you in particular.”
Everyone was looking at me. I was too busy feeling my stomach bottoming out to answer. She was right, of course, and I should have thought of it. But hearing the words spoken aloud...
Joe took my hand. “We’re not going to let that happen.” I doubted he believed it as much as he sounded like he did.
“One more thing,” said Tamar, glancing at Vivi. “If things go pear-shaped, if there’s violence, you gotta stay out of it. If there’s even a hint that you could get injured, get to the communal shower and get under the water and stay there until one of us comes for you.” She looked around at the rest of us. “That goes for everyone--standing under running water will give you enough shield to keep them away. But Vivi needs to be kept out of physical danger.” She didn’t have to elaborate. Vivi paled but nodded.
“From what Mari saw, these bastards are just constructs,” Dionne said. “There could be some O.G. demons in there, but I call those things ‘bogeys’ cause what Mari saw hatching on the walls are gonna be minor spirits--low forms of life bossed around by a powerful one--that he sucked into that realm and fed them on its carrion so they grow and get stronger. They’re not sophisticated, and they could be destroyed pretty easy when they ain’t inside a person, but that doesn’t mean they ain’t dangerous.”
“What if there are too many of them who really dig in?” Cherry, of all of us, looked like she was the one most spoiling for a fight. “If you guys have to force them out. There’s only two of you, so what if there’s a lot of them? More than all of us can restrain?”
; “We gotta do our best to handle it one at a time, and to keep the person from getting injured.” Dionne turned her hands up. “And mostly we gotta pray it don’t come to that.”
And then it was time to head to the burn. Seven of us, one of whom was fighting for her life, armed with water pistols full of enchanted gross water, hoping that our Sharpie tattoos and drawings in the dirt would be enough to save a camp the size of a village from a legion of demonic hellspawn and quite possibly some special forces in the wild fae division.
Awesome.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
We headed down the dirt road toward the center of camp, where we could already hear drumming rising up into the night. “I feel like we should all have long black coats and smoke rising behind us as we walk in slow motion.” Joe attempted a macho swagger that should have made us laugh. We all forced weak smiles, and even he couldn’t keep it going. I don’t think any of us felt all that badass at the moment.
We were just entering the theme camp area when Boden and a few of his fae met us on the road. Maybe I should have been getting used to it by now, but the sudden sight of them made me light-headed. Just knowing that the fae were real, and here. “News?” I asked, hopeful.
“No word yet about the curse. Our defenders are armed and waiting.”
“We are scouting,” said one of the other fae. “Our job is to look for any wild kin who might be with the nain rouge and report back what we find. We will tell you as well.”
“Can you do anything else to help?” I said. It might have come out sounding somewhat demanding. “Don’t you all have, like, magic spells and powers and things?”
Boden studied me as if trying to decide whether I was serious. “High magic is available to the highborn. Our own abilities vary, but most of us who live near here have little that would be useful in your world.” He shrugged, his expression regretful. “We tend our land, grow food, mend small things. We are not warriors. We fight only when we must.”
On our side: a demonologist, a couple of witches, a chaos magician, two clueless newbie spirit workers, a starving girl, and a ragtag group of farmboy fairies. We had an ice cube’s chance in Pompeii of surviving the night.
“Thanks,” said Tamar dryly as they all scattered.
Boden came back before he’d gone far, opening a small pouch at his waist. “There is one thing I may offer.” He took a piece of fruit from it. Its perfume made my mouth water--like a peach orchard when the fruit is ripe, but so much more enticing. He held it up to Vivi. “For the girl. It is not much, but our food sates curse-hunger better than human food.”
Joe’s face transformed. Teeth bared, nostrils flared, eyes glittering with feral need. “Grab me!” And he lunged for it.
Dionne and Cherry caught his arms and hauled on him, bracing themselves against him dragging them as he strained toward the fruit. Sara pulled Vivi out of the way and Tamar and I got between Joe and Boden.
“Put it away! Hide it!” Cherry glared at Boden as she struggled to hang onto Joe.
Boden tucked it back into the pouch. He seemed unsurprised. He gave a small nod and stepped back, turning to Vivi. “It is yours if you wish it, but decide soon. It will not endure long outside of my world.” He looked Joe over and disappeared into the crowd.
Joe was already giving up the fight, but he was breathing hard and jerked forward once or twice before he stopped trying to pull free.
Cherry stroked his arm. “You’re okay. It’s okay.”
“What was he trying to give me?” Vivi huddled under Sara’s arm.
“Fairy food, just like he said.” Tamar glanced at Joe and he nodded confirmation.
“Is that what it does? Is it poison or something?” Sara wrapped her other arm around Vivi.
Joe sucked in a ragged breath. “It’s not poison,” he said. “It’s--unforgettable.”
“Was Boden trying to hurt Vivi?” I still wasn’t sure what I’d just seen.
“Doubt he thought so,” said Tamar. “He’s most likely telling the truth about the food. The fae hate liars. But just because that thing might’ve helped with the hunger, doesn’t mean the side effects are worth it.” She studied Joe. “You gonna be okay?”
He nodded. “Fine. I’m fine. I can do this.”
We made our way to the heart of camp, where the Metamorphosis installation was ready for the burn, with piles of wood stacked at its base. A motley crowd already waited in a loose, wide ring around the artwork. It left an inner circle of open space where more than a dozen fire performers spun burning hoops, staves, poi, fans, darts, you name it. Despite my anxiety, I couldn’t take my eyes off the spectacle.
There were so many people here watching the fire performers and wandering around camp. I wasn’t sure I’d know how to tell the fae from the humans if they mingled with us, out here in the dark and the firelight, in the soft shine of glow sticks and string lights and el-wire. Nearly everyone looked otherworldly in their crazy party outfits and wigs and wings and capes. The silver lining was that if we could keep everything contained tonight, everyone would write off anything weird they saw as a bad trip or an art prank gone too far.
The fire performers began to thin out, and the mood changed; anticipation was thick in the air. I realized it must be getting close to time for the burn. The drumbeats shifted, a slower and more intense beat that swelled out into the night. Dionne nodded to us, and we all fanned around the circle and wormed our way deep into the crowd.
People pressed close to me on all sides. I could smell the fire performers’ fuel, the crowd’s bug spray, alcohol, sawdust, bodies. I heard the faintest sounds of a couple of the others starting the chant, the incantation to activate the sigils we’d put on people’s bodies and the wards around the camp. Anxiety flared--would Science Faction try to shout us down? Had they hurt our efforts?--but I added my voice to theirs. A few people shot me looks, but I kept it up, and to my relief I heard other voices near me join in.
The glacial tide of the crowd moved me toward the inside of the circle. I could see Cherry across from me. I could see Vivi, hollow in the uneven light. Voices rose up around me as more and more people caught the chant. They had no idea why they were doing it; the group-mind of the crowd was taking over and sweeping people up. Good. If we were going to have this kind of massive trance energy going on, at least we could put it to use protecting people.
I felt my vision softening at the edges, tuning in to a spectrum outside my normal sight, and I caught shimmering glimpses of warm golden light as sigils on arms came to life. I looked down at my own and saw the lines re-drawn in the same pattern I’d formed them, filling in with sparkling luminescence. Turning, I looked toward the outskirts of camp.
Few people here would be capable of seeing what I saw, hearing what I heard. Past the starry bridge of the balloon arc, way out on the darkened edges of this temporary village, a jet of hot red light burst up into the air and exploded into a fountain of glittering sparks that showered down into the clouds of colored smoke below it. There was a faint hissing noise, then another muffled boom as a second jet of bright red shot up into the air. Energy crackled along the “fuses” that connected each ward as they exploded into power, one by one. I kept chanting. My arms prickled with energy and power and I was bouncing, enraptured by the supernatural fireworks we were setting off.
When the circle around camp was completed, I swelled with joy. The chain of them remained unbroken. Nothing had disturbed the physical forms of the wards; a stroke of good fortune. I high-fived Cherry in my mind.
And then comets of red light streaked up from the wards, arcing across camp to fall to the opposite side, leaving wide bands of pulsing, glowing red in a latticed pattern. Slender vines of glittering red rose up between them, filling in the spaces and weaving, sketched in by tiny bright stars of energy that threw off sparks like a foundry. It was a dome above us, containing us, shielding us. When the ligh
t had finished weaving a tight net over the entire camp, it glowed hot and bright, like embers and stop lights. A moment later it faded, blending into the night sky until it was nearly invisible to me, just the faintest heat shimmer.
I turned back and searched the crowd for Dionne. She had seen it, too. Our eyes met and she smiled wide, showing the gap where her molar was missing. It worked! We were as protected as we were going to get tonight.
I looked back into the center of the circle just as a huge burly guy carrying a flaming sword stepped up to the Metamorphosis sculpture and plunged the fiery blade into it. There was a taut silence. Then the crackle of flames catching, and a bright phosphorescent burst of sparks from fireworks tucked into the crannies of the sculpture. The sword carrier jumped back and retreated to the inner ring of the circle, where an attendant waited with a wet towel to extinguish the sword.
The first flame leapt high and a cheer swelled into a roar from the crowd. The drummers took up a joyful rhythm with new intensity. All around me, people were jumping, dancing, stomping, pumping their fists in the air, shouting for the flames as they spread, flames that licked around the base of the sculpture and raced up its supports.
I had never seen a fire so big. It slithered upwards, devouring paper flowers and cardboard fruit, and the heat radiated outward. I was transfixed. Now and then a papier-mâché apple would burn open, offering a handful of fireworks to the flames, and the space between the flames would be filled with brilliant white sparkles and high-pitched shrieks. Up and up went the fire, growing and spreading; the crowd that circled around it began to inch backward as the air became too hot to bear. It was beautiful. Glorious. Wooden flowers whirled as they burned. Fire traced the grooves of the tree trunk in orange light. The fire reached the cocoon at the top, tearing at the ropes that had kept it from swaying. It became a bud of flame, ready to bloom.
MetamorphosUS: Book 1 of the Mythfit Witch Mysteries Page 33