Dropped through the mystical opening, the armor lay on the ground, spilling like yolk from a cracked egg.
Reverently, Peggy bent down and touched the elaborate surface.
Mesmerised, she picked it up.
As she did, a mass of chains fell through the spinning air. Startled, she touched the surface of the interwoven chains. The metal links responded to Peggy, glowing with a soft white light.
My arms were full of Celestine.
My back was full of daggers.
I could only watch as Peggy raised the chainmail above her head and put it on. She seemed no more aware of her actions than a hypnotized audience member in a magic show. Her eyes were white and frosted over.
With a stern gaze, she picked up the breastplate.
Without even a split-second of hesitation, Peggy slid the breastplate onto her shoulders. slipping into the ornate armor as if it was her own. It fit her perfectly. Abruptly, she looked like a statue from the ancient stories, like Atlanta ready to run her last race. Like Arachnea with her well-woven cloth.
Magnificent.
“The best of all of us,” I whispered.
Everything in the crypt fell silent, as if we stood in a church at the moment of revelation. Even through the thick clouds of dirt, thick dust, and exploded venom, every creature, alive or undead, felt the change. Even the air crackled with the presence of deity. Everyone I could see paused, struck by the eerie sensations generated by the field of magic.
I still couldn't see much past my hands.
I refused to let go of Celestine to even try to reach Peggy.
Rationally, I knew my vampire students stood around us. But I couldn't tell if they were frozen in time or in awe. The shimmering portal was a dimensional door to somewhere. A door I didn't wish to enter—that was certain.
But a door all the same. I knew it was one because another bit of glistening golden armor fell through the portal. Emerging toe first, the thigh high boots dropped, made of the finest leather, covered in ancient runes and sigils.
Not Egyptian, I surmised. Not their picture language of hieroglyphics. No, I could see some of the details clearly. I swore the marks looked more like runes.
Falling out of the tear in the fabric of our universe, another boot joined the first, making a pair so fine they would have inspired a fairy queen’s jealousy.
Whatever happened on the other side of that shimmering doorway, I was afraid to even try to peek. Someone took mercy on us. Someone powerful—that was all I cared about right then. Maybe it was Bastet? I had no idea. Certainly, it felt like some forgotten goddess emptied her personal closet onto the crypt floor. The rest of the set of armor fell, one piece at a time. Breeches made of fine chainmail spilled into a serpentine pile. And then a cloak.
I could only watch in wonder as the strange girl who had been my companion sneaking into the crypt transformed into a supernatural creature I did not recognize.
The chained armor fell all the way down Peggy’s shoulders and back, past her mid thighs. Not once did she smile as the ornate and embellished items dropped, a miracle from Heaven or Hell, Olympus or Horus.
Peggy showed no excitement at the unexpected items. No fear either. She didn't look at them and see beauty or gladness or hope.
Her face was empty of emotion. One at a time, she put on the breeches and then the boots. Each slid over her ankles like frosting on a cake. Deftly, she laced the boots.
Then, she looked around, uncertain.
As if she didn't know where she was.
“Pegg-” I began to say and then intense pain shattered what was left of my focus.
Swiftly, a fourth and then a fifth dagger hit me.
This time, the knives lodged in the thick muscles of my other shoulder, cutting into my back. Like smoke in the wind, my ability to concentrate vanished. I staggered under the pain and the reluctant sense that everything fell apart right in front of me.
“I'm s-sorry, Celestine. I-i tried to protect you.” It was hard to breathe between the dust in the air, the overwhelming sense of loss, and blunt pain. “I f-failed to save them.”
I couldn’t see the damage. I felt each blade’s cut.
Blood dripped down my back.
That was nothing compared to the tears that fell down Peggy’s face.
Or the tear that trickled down Celestine’s unconscious cheek, leaving a trail of sorrow in its tracks, outlined with the mud and dirt of this vicious world.
Then, the air beside us shimmered again.
First, a sparkling ruby emerged, encircled with gold almost as big as my thumb. Then more of the magnificent artwork came through impossible shifting air. When it had emerged six inches from the ruby, the whole thing stopped. The magic waited for something. For someone.
For Peggy.
With a certainty that I only recently had regained, Peggy reached into the warped mass of sparkling air, grasped the ruby and an elaborate golden pommel that extended back into the rift. With one hand holding the halberd of Apollo, Peggy securely wrapped her grip around the peculiar object.
Setting her jaw with a cast of determination, with a grunt, she pulled back.
The first glimpse that I got was pure brilliant power. Not sunlight—something else. Even with my human eyes, I could tell there was a glow of wonder and magic around the longsword that she easily pulled free from the swirling portal.
Definitely not sunlight.
As soon as she had a grip on it, the second the tip of the weapon slid free of the coalescing magic, the shimmer in the air popped inwards, like an exploding star collapsing into a red dwarf.
She held magic in her hands, untamed, its consequences unknown.
And then Peggy looked at me like the armored woman had never seen me before. Instantly, I had become a stranger. I wasn’t sure how to reach her. There was only one person who knew that.
Celestine.
On the ground, something glittered—untouched by the ash and dust. Peggy reached down and lifted up a diadem.
Now I was completely confused.
“W-what?” I asked, “What are you?” It was like I was in the presence of an angel or something older than the Gods. A sense of foreboding screeched through me, a warning so deep that my knees almost buckled.
Normally, I could use meditation to wall off the parts of my brain that responded to pain. But this was something else entirely. This was fear, cold, still. Facing whatever Peggy had become felt like standing on the dark side of the moon.
With a chilling, blank look in her eyes, Peggy’s allegiances vanished.
I clung to the last bit of logic I still grasped; I held Celestine, facing away from the sun's warmth. Without Peggy’s help, we would never be free. Celestine would never spin to the other side of the moon’s face, never be warmed by the reflected rays of sunlight.
In Peggy’s hand, the sword held that awesome power. I could see darkness in that strange, sick light that ran along the edge of its blade. I didn't turn away. I didn't do anything to shield Celestine from whatever had come through from another dimension and another time. Heaven knows, I barely held on to consciousness.
We were lost. My body shook from the effort of holding the injured vampires. I knew there was no escape from the hellish crypt, not for me. I could not run, not from Hunters, not from vampires, not from whatever deadly thing had just been born into this world. I couldn't run from Peggy.
I didn't want to.
I saw it all.
The moment that she placed the simple diadem on her head, Peggy changed.
No longer the young woman we had rescued—no longer even human. She looked at me with eyes filled with starlight. If I had words, maybe we could have communicated. But I doubted it.
Her mind was altered by magic. Her thoughts sprang away from human conversation, spinning alone distant magic sand a power so vast that the sword could barely contain it.
Taking in the crypt, the gathered forces, the dying vampire, the broken man—she bowed her head
, solemn, alien.
“Whatever this is,” I whispered, “I know it's you, Peggy. I trust you. Help me save Celestine. Help us. Find a way through.”
Eyes full of mystery looked at me, evaluating. With the coldness of a machine, I was judged—weighed and measured. The verdict was unclear. What does she see? What powers did she gain with the donning of the enchanted armor? Could she begin to understand the actions of vampires and venom? Or fighting hunters armed with silver weapons laced with spells? How could anyone see all the factors in a war that spanned continents? She stood there, in the midst of a war over death that spawned its brutal reaping over and over for a thousand years.
I could only watch her and pray that that sword never touched me.
Peggy, the strange girl I barely knew, she was still in there, her crowned head bowed. Halberd in one hand, sword in the other, she was Destruction personified.
But I still trusted her. Clinging to the bitter truths I had experienced in the last few days, I waited. Celestine and I, we were in the presence of a power so old it witnessed the beginning of the universe and it still remembered.
I still believed in Justice. In Mercy.
In the power of light.
In the connection between mind, body, and spirit that I found in meditation. I knew those things were true. I believed them.
The crypt was silent for several long minutes. The entire room, full of vampires and Hunters, stood there in awe. Slowly, the dust settled.
Still, we didn't move.
No one dared.
8
Revelations In the Dust
Tristan St. Denis
After a time, the clogged, choking air cleared.
At least twelve hunters stood by the door. Men and women of all ages and body types, clad in wooden stakes, blades, and leather, holding in their hands yet more weapons—with a glint in their eyes that promised that they would use that silver on every vampire present.
And they could see plenty with the air cleared.
But they didn't move against their ancient enemy. Confusion on their faces mirrored my own. No one knew for sure what this thing was that Peggy had become.
Exhausted, I looked over my shoulder.
There was hesitation on every human face. They didn't throw another dagger, not while Peggy held the sword. Fear of the unknown held their strike. Fear and Respect. The air itself felt like any wrong move could summon an ice flow from the darkest parts of the deepest glacial caves—a killing freeze.
“Peggy, we need you,” I whispered again, uncertain what I could do to jar her out of her deep meditation, to wake her from the remoteness of the vast immortal magic. Like a glacier, she moved slowly, deciding. I stood on the edge of the shaky ice, wondering what she was becoming.
Or what she already was?
Suddenly, bright as the sun at dawn, Peggy smiled.
At the exact same second, I saw a murder of crows for the very first time.
Through the broken crypt door, down two passageways high up in the ceiling that I would have never found, poured a flock of black birds. Each one was a brilliant razor-sharp knife-like creature. They flew in—glossy on wing, bright of eye, deadly beaks, ready to kill. And these enormous crows, they appeared like a tornado in autumn, arising out of nothing but the wind itself.
Instantly, they surrounded Peggy in a halo.
“What the hell?” I couldn’t help but exclaim. I had never seen such large birds. More like ostriches than ravens, their wings filled the height of the crypt. If they rested one foot on her actual person, I couldn't see the slightest mark.
Instead, they hovered around her armored form like the blackest of demonic angels. Swallowing nervously, I tried to understand. But blood loss and shock were setting in, muddling my mind. Speaking was pretty useless. When I tried, I sounded more like a frog than a warrior, more like a child than a man.
All of this was so out of my league.
I'd only just learned about vampires...
“What in the hell are you?” I couldn't help myself—I had to ask.
Her coldly lit eyes settled on me. On the daggers that stuck in my back and shoulder, on the rivulets of blood that fell from my wounds. Regarding me the way a museum visitor might examine an archaic statue, Peggy and the crows saw every detail.
Instinctively protective, a snarl escaped my lips. Regardless of my own wounds, I kept my body wrapped around Celestine’s smaller frame. Even from the crows, I would shelter her as long as I could.
Through it all the injured vampire hadn't woken. No matter what went on around us, she couldn’t. The fight against the poison silver had taxed her resources. She lived—but only just.
Time to heal, that was all I could offer.
I glared at the nearest crow as it hopped about and bobbed its head.
Intently, the armored woman examined us.
Then, Peggy slowly shifted her weight. Her gaze fixed on the golden light that ran along the chain of Icarus between Celestine’s heart and my own—a miracle not even I understood. It was clear that the ancient artifact meant something to her.
Peggy spoke something in a language I didn't understand. Some kind of ritualized response. Her voice was liquid and serpent-like. Out of the strange light around her, the warrior conjured a magic that felt old and incredibly powerful.
After that odd declaration, she spun on her feet.
One hand grasped the deadly weapon of Apollo which she pointed at the broken crypt door.
Holding the sword of oblivion, she struck lightning fast.
I suppose that was a suitable name for the strange decaying darkness and empty silence that surrounded the sword blade.
Using that weapon’s edge, she drew a line in front of her as jagged as the darkness around her.
Without her command, every one of the dojo vampires moved to flank Peggy. Now, all of the supernatural creatures guarded us. Not one looked my way. Instead, as one army, they turned their red glowing and storm lit eyes to the front of the crypt as they faced the hunters who stood there, defiant. Lines drawn in the marble marked the conflict in stone.
Every hair on the back of my neck rose.
The stench of rage filled the room. Every blinking thing that moved in that cavernous room tensed, suddenly ready to do battle.
“Who the hell are you?” one man hollered, his challenge echoing across the charged space. The hesitation in his voice made the insult come across more as a confused kid than a grown warrior demanding his enemy’s identity.
“You have no business here,” another hunter snarled. “T-these leeches must die. Los Angeles will finally be free of their infestation. We have done our job, respected the orders that we have taken to the brethren of Mars Alators. We, the brave few have laid down our lives. We will have this victory, no matter what you decide to do. Move out of the way or die with the trash!”
Whether they were on the ceilings, the walls, the floors—whether they were far or near, the vampires that remained moved like a collapsing well of ink, falling back into the jar. Like a squall of black rain, they sprang from wherever they had lurked in the dusty dark.
United, they faced the hunters.
As one, they returned to the center of the room, flanking the middle, guarding the back wall. Effortlessly, the Reborn army merged with their dojo comrades.
Fierce and proud, the defiant and hungry vampire horde sized up the hunters.
All pretense of stealth vanished. Yet not one vampire struck.
Without flinching, Peggy held command of the undead. How?
I honestly don’t know.
Weapon to weapon, magic to magic, the human hunters growled their feral, focused hatred. In their thirst for vengeance, the hunters were not that unlike the vampires that they had cornered. Both sides desired vengeance and blood—blood and vengeance, even though neither made a satisfying meal.
But Peggy didn't speak to any of them. She liked the quiet, standing comfortably in that charged atmosphere for more than t
wo minutes. Disturbing, deep silence covered us all. I felt like the first strike would come any second.
Everyone waited, uncertain.
Like the Greek goddess Justice, Peggy examined every soul in the room, searching among the living and the dead for something no one else could detect. She stood there, facing the humans who had entered the crypt as adversaries.
Behind and to the side of the stone coffin she still guarded, her followers lined up. Vampires slipped behind crows in a murder so vast that the undead and the sleek, black birds became one moving mass of death and darkness.
Still, she didn't speak to them. She didn't challenge the intruders until the stink of adrenaline and sweat filled the room like a locker room after a workout.
Then, she spoke one simple command. Looking them in the eye, gaze for gaze, Peggy said, “Leave.”
In response, the gathered hunters all laughed, incredulous.
One of them mumbled, “Who are you to ask us anything?” His tone said it all: embarrassment that anyone thought that they could be so easily ignored.
“We train and hunt our entire lives to destroy these bastards,” another one retorted. “You asked us to leave this nest of leeches? I don't care who you are, you have no right. We are the hunters of Mars Alators. Those things that you protect? They are the creatures made of bone and death. Left unchecked, they will eat the world. They will kill every last human. Unless the bastards are stopped. Here. Now. We are the bridge that stands between their invasion and the precious shore of life. You have no standing here, whatever you are. You cannot tell us to go!”
Impossibly belligerent. Calm. Arrogant—all of those things. Unmoved by her command, the hunters held every silver ready with expertly-sharpened edges aimed at the strange crow-haloed woman.
With undisguised menace, the hunters took a step forward. United, their boots fell in a stomp of thunder across the crypt floor. The weight of their advance disturbed the settled dust which flurried into the air and drifted softly down again.
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