by Leah Cutter
Denise looked up. Nora seemed worried, but less angry. “It was in my pocket. It was wearing away my will.” She shivered. “If Cornelius had asked me for something, after another day or so, I would have given it to him.”
“Where’s the stone now, Mom?” Nora asked again.
“Kostya asked to see it. I hadn’t wanted to show it to him, but I felt compelled. He destroyed it, stepped on it, ground it to dust,” Denise said. At least she no longer mourned the loss of the stone, though her palm could still feel its coolness.
“Where, Mom?” Nora asked. “Can you show me?”
Denise didn’t understand why Nora was so insistent, but she agreed. “Okay. He stepped on it out on the driveway. Let me show you.”
Out in the garage, Denise got the big flashlight and led Nora to the spot on the concrete driveway. She walked over to where the pieces of the stone lay right away. It surprised her that she still had a connection to it.
“Don’t—” Denise said, but it was too late. Nora ran her finger across the shards of the stone.
“Yeap. This is it,” Nora said, sounding surprised. “I don’t know if this is the whole thing, but it’s most of it. The magic’s been broken. Dale, can you get me a paper cup from the kitchen? So I can gather up what’s left?”
“Why do you want to gather up all the pieces?” Denise asked. “You said the magic’s broken?”
“It is,” Nora said. “And you said all he did was step on it?”
Denise nodded, making the flashlight wobble.
“He shouldn’t have been able to destroy it like that,” Nora said. “I don’t care how strong the dwarf is, merely stepping on the stone shouldn’t have shattered it. Rocks are stronger than that, particularly ones enspelled.”
Dale brought out not just a paper cup, but a small hand broom so Nora could sweep up every particle of dust.
“Are you sure it’s safe for you to touch?” Denise asked. Her palm itched watching Nora. She still missed how calm the rock had made her feel.
“It’s safe for me, Mom,” Nora assured Denise.
Somehow, Denise doubted that, given that her daughter was handling the broken pieces like they were made of a hazardous chemical.
“I’ll just—disarm it a bit more,” Nora said after she’d deposited the paper cup in her bedroom and come back into the living room. “Transform it back into merely a rock.”
“So why did Kostya help me?” Denise asked. She’d been wondering all afternoon about that. “Why did he show up here?”
Nora made a face. “You were unprotected until yesterday,” she said slowly. “Maybe he thought he could control you, somehow. Get your name.”
Denise shivered. “These creatures are a lot more dangerous than you’ve told me, aren’t they?”
Nora and Dale exchanged a glance. “They’re deadly, Mom,” Nora admitted. “And we’re dealing with more than just the fairies and the dwarf, I’m afraid.”
“What do you mean?” Denise asked, sitting back down in the living room.
“I was warned, today,” Nora said. “A tourist woman. Mrs. Wentworth. Said that there’s something living here who’s been interfering with me. She said it was stopping any teachers from reaching me.”
“That’s what Kostya said,” Denise said. “So the dwarf wasn’t lying?”
“That something’s been stopping a teacher from finding me? No,” Nora said. “That he knows who or what this creature is? He might know. He might be lying. But Mom—this thing, this monster—is deadly. According to Mrs. Wentworth, this thing is responsible for Grandpa Lewis and Grandma Lilly’s accident.”
Denise shivered. She’d wondered what had happened. Grandpa Lewis had been one of the safest drivers she knew.
Of course, accidents happened. But it had never made sense.
“So what do we do now?” Denise asked. She wanted to get this creature, but first, she needed to protect her daughter and her son. She found herself sitting up straighter. She’d fled Los Angeles when Chris had threatened not just her life, but her children. She never would have forgiven herself if she’d stayed and let him hurt them.
“I have to leave,” Nora said quietly. “Mrs. Wentworth said I needed to go tonight, but I told her I couldn’t leave until the end of the week. She warned me that I need to just take off, not tell a soul.”
“And the monster won’t come after us, hurt one of us to get you to return?” Denise asked.
“No,” Nora said, though she sounded uncertain. “Mrs. Wentworth said that they’d hurt someone to get me to stay, but would leave when I did.”
“Then you need to go. Now,” Denise said, standing. She’d had to leave Los Angeles that way. “Will you be able to contact us later? After you’re settled?”
Nora stood slowly. “I…I think so. But I don’t want to leave tonight.”
“Why not?” Denise asked. “You’re in danger. We’re in danger. There isn’t anything more important.” Why couldn’t Nora see that?
“I don’t know where I’m going to go,” Nora said.
Denise hated the heartbreak she heard in Nora’s voice. “We’ll figure it out, sweetheart,” Denise assured Nora. “We’ll figure out someplace safe.”
“But what about the fairies? They’re going to keep coming after Dale. And you,” Nora said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I need to put up some more protections for you. And the house.”
Denise hesitated. “How long will it take you?”
“Half a day? Maybe?” Nora admitted.
“So spend tomorrow taking care of the house. Then leave in the evening. It’s better if you leave at night, anyway,” Denise told her daughter. She’d never wanted to have this knowledge, to know about how to leave someone when they were dangerous. Now, she hated even more that she had to impart it to her daughter.
But Denise would do anything to keep her children safe.
The knock on the door startled all of them.
“Expecting anyone?” Dale asked as he rose and started toward the front door.
“No,” Nora said. “Brett would call first. He knows better.”
Denise saw her daughter start to glow. She drew a string from the pocket of her skirt, long and knotted. Denise didn’t know what Nora would do with it, and she wasn’t certain she wanted to see the full extent of her daughter’s powers.
Still, it made her feel better that Nora could protect herself, and her family.
“Open it,” Denise said after Nora nodded at her.
Whoever it was, if they intended her family harm, would get the surprise of their life.
* * *
Garung looked at Ramit in surprise. “Really, brother?” he said. “You’ve fallen so low, that you’ve reverted to the warrior’s cannibal past?” Garung continued to look around him. Was there a way out? Too many warriors waited in the peaceful morning trees. He had no doubt that they’d attack at Ramit’s command.
And none of the student troop really knew how to fight. Even if they did, they weren’t warriors. They’d never been trained that way.
How could they escape this trap? Had Frieda realized it was a trap? Had she led them there on purpose? To fill Ramit’s kingdom with more subjects?
“And yet, we’d say you were the ones who’d fallen, who’d strayed from the traditional paths,” Ramit said, holding his large hands wide. “We’ve returned to our natural state, not fallen. It is you, brother, who’s in the wrong.”
Garung shook his head as he got to his feet. “You can’t ask this of them,” he said, indicating his students. “They’re all too young, too new. They wouldn’t understand the implications. The freezing winters. The work.”
“Pffft,” Ramit said. “What work? To gather moonbeams and spiderwebs? Set up acorn cups to catch the morning dew?”
“And the winters? Are you telling me they’re easy? That everyone will survive?” Garung challenged.
“The strong will survive, as they always have,” Ramit said. “And my followers are strong.�
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“But you have so little to offer them,” Garung said. “They’re used to the softer things.” How could he get Ramit to see? He couldn’t just take all of Garung’s troop.
“So they’ll get tougher. You did, on your first trip, didn’t you?” Ramit asked.
Garung had to admit it was true, and that he’d hoped for the rest of the students to get used to the hardships of travel. “But there’s an end to our travels,” Garung said. “You’re asking them to stay for the rest of their very, very long lives.”
“Brother, we could argue the points for days,” Ramit said. “But the choice will remain the same. Either you and your troop will join us, or you’ll die. The choice has come. What will it be?”
Garung looked around, still seeking another way. Only then did he notice that Adele had slipped away. The warrior who’d been standing next to her now lay on the empty branch, his head tilted back at an odd angle.
Out of the corner of his eye, Garung followed an abrupt flurry of movement.
Another warrior fell against a branch.
“Where’s Adele?” Garung asked innocently enough. “Wasn’t she right there?” he asked, pointing to the dead warrior.
When Ramit looked and gasped, Garung screamed as he jumped off the branch, his wings folded in, diving toward the forest floor. “Go! Go! GO NOW!” he shouted. “It’s a trap!”
* * *
Cornelius didn’t bother holding council that afternoon with the rest of the court. Instead, he visited fairies in their homes, personally inviting them to the bonfire that evening. He assured the royals that the warriors would be there in great strength, and it would be safe.
To some, Cornelius told them it would be invigorating. To others, he hinted at a special appointment to be made if these bonfires were successful, that someone would have to be put in charge of holding them regularly. To still others, he promised a night of magical and sensual delight.
Adele had always accused Cornelius of using his words like a weapon, as skillfully as any warrior. Today, Cornelius needed all his skill.
He had to get the fairies out tonight. The bonfire had taken on a life of its own at this point. It wasn’t about Kostya or the misplaced passion of his people. It was about the success of this party, to prove to himself that he could still lead.
The servants Cornelius bribed with promises of good wine and food. For the warriors who wouldn’t be on duty, he promised dancing and fire.
It took an entire day, but Cornelius tirelessly flew around the kingdom, binding the people into one huge party.
Cornelius ended his long day at the golden temple, landing in the courtyard, calling for Sebastian.
When the priest came out of a side door, Cornelius bounded over to him. “Have you heard? It’s going to be marvelous!”
“It’s just a bonfire,” Sebastian pointed out. He still handed Cornelius a large mug of freshly brewed honey wine and waved him along to come and sit in the garden at the very back of the temple. Roses grew in abundance, along with pansies, daffodils, delphinium, camellias, tulips, and chrysanthemums. No daisies or poms, of course. It wasn’t that fairies were allergic to those flowers, but they weakened fairy magic.
The sky above the two of them slowly started to darken, the fairy lights simulating the setting of the sun by slowly fading from the east to the west.
Cornelius sipped at his mead and relaxed. He’d flown more in the last couple of days than he had in the last year or so, he was certain. And while, previously, he’d supported the queen and been excited by her grand plans and the great machine, this felt more satisfying.
For all that it was a single, small bonfire.
“Don’t be disappointed if many of the royals don’t show up,” Sebastian warned Cornelius after a bit. “You know royals, saying anything they need to say to please who’s in power.”
“Really?” Cornelius asked dryly. “Is that how royals are?”
Sebastian chuckled. “Of course they are, old man. Just as priests will always follow the true leader of the people. You know we never wavered in our support in the queen.”
“True,” Cornelius said. He’d always assumed that had just been because the priests were mostly from the servant class. But Sebastian was a warrior, as the queen had been. “Why is that?”
“Royals always intend to rule,” Sebastian said seriously. “For good or bad doesn’t matter. Scratch any royal, and underneath, they all think they should be king or queen.”
Cornelius knew that wasn’t true—he didn’t want to be king—but he was fascinated that other fairies thought that was so. “And so?” he prompted.
“The rule is always taken by the royal with the strongest will to rule,” Sebastian continued. “If we threw our power behind someone who wasn’t as determined, all we’d gain is a weak king or queen. We’d never have any power ourselves.”
Cornelius nodded. It was true. While the people might have followed Adele longer if she’d lived, they never would have followed someone like Sebastian.
“So do you support me?” Cornelius asked.
“For now,” Sebastian said. “But only as long as you keep your will up, old man.”
After a bit Sebastian got up and left Cornelius to his thoughts as the sky continued to darken, the fairy lights dying.
Cornelius didn’t know if he had the will to keep the rule. Would he fight Gideon and the others if they truly challenged him? Or would he lay it down so he could go back to his quiet days and peace and order?
He didn’t truly know. But he suspected he would find out soon enough.
* * *
Darkness spread across the sky. Chris again doubted the wisdom of his decision, to drive up along the coast, instead of sticking to the larger freeways and interstate.
That creature, the one he’d seen in his backseat, that time with Nora—it had come from the coast. He knew it from the slanted eyes glowing in its skull. It couldn’t possibly be a native born American thing.
Plus, it got so dark in between the coastal towns. Chris wasn’t afraid of the dark—Mama had beat that out of him as a child—but ever since the encounter with that creature in the back of his car, he was more cautious.
Maybe Chris should just pull off the road, spend the night at a hotel, get into town first thing in the morning.
No, he wanted to get to the house where he knew the kids were, as the address had been handily listed on the restraining order. Yes, Denise would be there as well. However, it would be the first time he’d violated her order. She’d only threaten to call the cops. She wouldn’t actually do it.
And besides, that way, Dale could see how unreasonable his mother was being. Could see that there was another way to do things.
Whistling along with the radio, Chris pulled into the small town. The main drag hadn’t changed. Pretty concrete pots holding flowers decorated the sides of the street. In between the small boutique shops were still good, old-fashioned ma-and-pa stores that had made this country great in the first place. Of course, too many had been replaced with foreigners, like the Chinese restaurant on the corner that was still open. It was late enough, though, that most of the street was empty of tourists, most of the shops closed for the night, people at home with their families.
Chris approved.
It didn’t take Chris long to get out to the neighborhood where Denise and the kids lived. He shivered as he stepped from his car. God-forsaken abandoned place. While Chris had gotten tired of the noise of Los Angeles as Denise had, he still couldn’t live out in the sticks this way. Off in the distance he could hear the ocean. A field of tall grass sat directly opposite the house. The nearest neighbor was a good distance off.
Blue lights flashed out near the horizon. For a moment, Chris thought about turning back. For some reason, those lights reminded him of that Satanic creature he’d met the last time he’d been here.
However, Mama had always said Chris had an overly active imagination. That creature couldn’t get him, had never ret
urned to haunt him. Chris still hurried across the gravel road and up the concrete driveway.
Taking a deep breath, Chris assured himself that he was doing the right thing.
Dale answered the door, looking defensive, as if he wanted to shout at whoever was there. “Dad?” Dale asked, stepping back when he saw Chris.
“Son!” Chris said, gladly stepping into the house.
He saw Nora standing by the back of the couch, her hand holding a long knotted string. Of course the girl couldn’t go anywhere without her handwork. Denise had been sitting next to her, but rose at Chris’ entrance.
The living room was shabby, but clean. Chris would give that to Denise, she always insisted on things being neat and tidy. The couch was gray and probably been bought used. Books crowded all the shelves. The TV was much smaller than Chris’, but it hung over a nice looking fireplace.
“Why are you here?” Denise asked, stepping forward.
“Hello Denise. I’m here to see my children,” Chris explained reasonably.
“I’m going to give you to the count of three to leave,” Denise said. “Then I’m calling the cops. Or do you not realize that I still have a restraining order out against you?”
“It’s only for you,” Chris said smugly. “Not for the children.”
“That can be fixed,” Denise said, her voice low and mean.
Chris was glad suddenly that he hadn’t fought the divorce, or insisted on some sort of visitation rights, not if Denise was going to be witchy this way.
“Son, if you ever need a place to stay, or any help, you just let me know,” Chris told Dale.
Chris turned to go when he heard Nora call out, “Wait.”
* * *
Nora’s heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest when she saw her dad standing in the doorway. They’d had no idea who—or what—would be there. The knock had been so unexpected. She had grabbed some loose string in her pocket, ready to use it to block whoever it was, ready to turn the single, small string into a rope of fire.
Despite hoping that her dad had changed, and okay, maybe a daydream or two, Nora could see that he still looked the same. He wore his usual nice dress shirt, with slacks and a sports jacket. However, overlaying his handsome human countenance lay another beast, piglike and mean. His nose was more like a snout, his eyes were tiny and hard, and at least half the words he said were untrue.