The Maker, the Teacher, and the Monster

by Leah Cutter

  “No!” Adele screamed, launching herself at the girl. This Maker, this human, could not have control of her. No one knew her true name, not even her long dead husband Thaddeus, though they’d both flirted with telling each other.

  Nora’s arms raised to meet Adele’s outstretched claws. But instead of trying to slap her away, or ward off the attack, Nora grabbed hold of Adele’s forearms, yanking her close, bringing their faces together.

  Adele saw her mistake right away. Nora was still partially enspelled by the other creature. Cool silver light ringed her dark brown eyes.

  The Maker was not herself.

  Too late, Adele struggled to pull away, but the cold silver magic stole over her soul, trapping her together with the Maker.

  Chapter Ten

  Chris slept poorly. The bed was soft enough and the sound of the trucks rumbling along the highway was a hell of a lot better than the constant sound of ocean waves. Chris still had nightmares about wild creatures with mad eyes, flying after him like certain death.

  The sun had just risen when Chris woke up. He blamed it partially on his own internal clock, still set at Texas time. The hotel room was more of a dump by daylight, with scratched, mismatched nightstands, the bed not two feet from the TV jutting out from the far wall, and sheets stained and scratchy.

  Chris took a quick shower, wishing he had a pair of flip-flops he could wear in the shower so as not to catch any of the diseases sure to be growing there. After he got dressed, he stopped. He was checking out that day, going to take Nora away from whatever trouble she’d gotten into.

  He’d hated her sass from the night before. She claimed not to be in league with the devil, but Chris wouldn’t bet on it. Or that she wasn’t pregnant.

  It was good that he was taking her away from here, so he could be a positive influence on her life. Of course, she didn’t know her place—Denise had never taught her that.

  Maybe Chris could, though.

  Chris dropped his key off at the desk and sauntered out into the parking lot. The day had dawned gray, but it would clear up soon.

  Maybe he could take the twins to breakfast. He remembered taking them to a place that made faces in the pancakes, down in Los Angeles.

  With a jaunty whistle, Chris threw his luggage into the backseat of his car and drove off for the house.

  What Chris didn’t expect to see as he drove up was his son flying through the air, with what looked like a bed sheet wrapped around his ankle and dragging on the ground.

  Creatures from Chris’ nightmares came out of nowhere, surrounding his son and flying at Denise, forcing her back in the house. They had wings, bony heads, wild golden eyes, and wore red paint and not much else.

  Demons.

  Another creature seemed to be drawing Dale to it. It didn’t look like the others, with its black skin and silver hair.

  It must be the devil himself.

  The flying creatures seemed to be attacking the devil thing, dive-bombing it from on high, trying to grapple it.

  When the devil turned away, Chris saw his chance. He punched the gas and careened directly into the thing.

  It had a physical body that bounced down the street, then lay there, not getting up.

  Chris rushed out of the car and raced to Dale. His son was still breathing, merely unconscious. Chris grunted as he picked Dale up—the boy had some serious muscle on him. Luckily, so did Chris.

  He threw Dale into the back seat of the car and reversed into Denise’s driveway. The creature in the street was up on elbows and knees, shaking its head.

  Chris wasn’t about to stick around to see if it would fully recover. Instead, he headed out of there, giving a great woop!

  Not only had Chris just defeated evil, he had his son with him.

  From the quiet streets Chris headed directly inland, heading toward the interstate.

  It was time to head back to Texas with his prize.

  * * *

  Nora—both sides of Nora—fought Queen Adele. The part still ensnared by the monster tried to capture the queen’s soul as well, while the splintered side worked at perfecting her use of the queen’s name.

  Of course, Adele fought to free herself, as well as fully capture Nora.

  They stood locked in a deadly embrace, hands and claws wrapped around forearms, staring intently into each other’s eyes, saying each other’s name. Cornelius circled them, worried, not letting the warriors interfere.

  It was possible that if Cornelius broke them apart at the wrong time, one of them would be in total control of the other—and he couldn’t predict which one of them would be on top.

  Nora fought Adele’s unraveling of her own soul, catching up the stitches and yanking them back to her. Then Nora would sally Adele’s name forth, drawing up the flowers and hard gears that made up the queen, learning more and more about her fierce fairy soul, how strong and independent she was, how cruel and inhuman.

  Back and forth they called, learning and forgetting and remembering again. As Adele drew Nora out from Brett’s spell, Nora took her soul back, drawing together more and more of it until the proportions were reversed, and most of her was herself with only a splinter made up the controlled soul.

  Adele suddenly looked up and howled at the sky. Nora pressed her advantage forward, calling Adele’s name again, but the fairy merely shook her head and backed up.

  They were at a standstill. They both had enough parts of each other’s names to do serious damage. But it would be at the price of their own soul.

  Nora stood panting on the driveway, suddenly aware of the cold morning sky. The sun had just risen. How long had she and Adele been at it? She was exhausted and swayed where she stood.

  “Truce?” Nora asked Adele, using her regular human voice.

  Adele merely sniffed at her. “If you say so.”

  The queen would never willingly give up. She would keep coming at Nora, trying to trip her up, catch her unawares so that she could control her.

  Nora would always have to be on guard against her.

  Pain stabbed through Nora’s hand. She realized she was still wearing Brett’s ring. She slipped it off her finger easily.

  The ring lying in her palm looked like such a small thing; a plain metal band, with three garnets in it. Even now, she could hear it whispering, trying to bend her will.

  Nora shook her head. She couldn’t keep the ring. There was no safe place for her to put it. Even if she locked it away in a vault and threw away the key, it would still gnaw at her. Someone else had to take it.

  “I will take it from you,” Cornelius said softly. “It will never bother you again.”

  “At what cost?” Nora asked warily. It was never wise to bargain with fairies.

  “The price of being able to destroy it, to suck all the magic out of it,” Cornelius said with a coy smile.

  Nora wondered at how powerful the ring actually was, that the fairy was willing to just take it. Maybe if she knew more, she’d be able to unravel the ring herself and use its magic.

  For now—she just needed it gone.

  “Catch,” Nora said, underhanding the ring to Cornelius.

  Cornelius snatched the ring out of the air, then deposited it into his vest pocket without looking at it. “We should be going. Your brother asked us to save you, you know.”

  “In exchange for what?” Nora asked, fuming. She was so going to kill him if he’d promised something stupid, her anger suddenly making her feel less tired.

  “An annual visit,” Cornelius said smugly.

  “I won’t let him get entrapped down there,” Nora warned.

  “No, I didn’t think you would,” Cornelius said.

  A hooting horn made Nora jump and the fairies scatter, taking to the air and winging away.

  Mom came barreling up in her car, jumping out even as it rolled to a stop. Mrs. Wentworth got out of the passenger seat.

  “Nora!” Mom called, rushing up to her.

  Nora didn’t hesitate to fling her a
rms around her mother. God, it was good to see her.

  “Are you okay?” Mom asked, not letting Nora go.

  “I’m fine, Mom,” Nora assured her. Though she was going to have a lot of nightmares, and probably need some therapy at some point. If she could only figure out how to express what had happened to her, how Brett had subsumed her, then touched her.

  Nora shivered, then remembered how she’d left. “Ah, Mom. Uhm…”

  “I know—you weren’t really yourself,” Mom said, pulling back, her eyes shining with tears.

  Nora looked more closely. Mom’s nose was bruised and her upper lip was swollen. “What happened to you?” she asked, looking from Mom to Mrs. Wentworth. “Where’s Dale?” she demanded.

  “Chris took him,” Mom admitted. “Before Brett could kill him.”

  Brett tried to kill Dale? “Why?” Nora asked. “Why did Brett try to kill him?”

  Mrs. Wentworth shrugged. “No idea. How did you get away?” She peered at Nora with bright, piercing eyes.

  “The fairies—Adele—she knows my name. And called me out,” Nora said, not wanting to admit how she’d split herself, how that one small splinter remained.

  “Hmmm,” was all Mrs. Wentworth said in reply. She obviously didn’t believe Nora. “You’ll need to tell your other teachers all about it. But right now, we’ve got to get you away. I don’t believe the O’onakie will kill you outright. But he will come after you—all of us.”

  Nora nodded, shivering. She still felt as though there was a thumbprint cold on her soul.

  If—when—Brett found it, he’d exploit it.

  “What about Dale?” Nora asked as she let herself be bundled into the car after she retrieved her glass full of powdered chain. Mrs. Wentworth took it from her, sniffing it carefully, then nodding.

  “Do you really think his dad would be able to keep him away if he thought you were still in trouble?” Mom asked reasonably.

  Nora shook her head. No, Dale would come racing after her. Just as she would come for him, if he’d been taken or was in danger. “What about Brett?” Nora asked. “What did you call him?”

  “He’s an O’onakie. Like a wind elemental. Ancient and dangerous. There’s speculation they’re as old as the native Americans in this region. Some even have suggested the O’onakie are the creatures referred to as the East Wind, in the myths,” Mrs. Wentworth said.

  “A wind?” Nora asked. He had that feeling to him, of flowing and moving, though she’d never seen him change into something like that. “But how are we going to get away? He’ll just follow me,” Nora said. And do everything in his power to get her back.

  “Chris did run him over with his car,” Mom said smugly.

  “Good,” Nora said. Her dad might be a pig, and violent, but at least he was finally able to use that for good.

  “So your ex-husband is already driving away from Port City? Going inland?” Mrs. Wentworth asked.

  “Probably,” Mom said. “It would be like him, to do the most damage he could, then run away with his son.”

  Nora nodded slowly. That would be her dad, not checking on her or mom. They were just women, after all.

  “I have a plan,” Mrs. Wentworth said. “We’ll need to stay in the car, drive around for a bit. We could use some help,” she added, pointing toward the sky.

  “It’ll cost you,” Nora warned. Damned fairies never gave anything away for free. Even if they said it was, the cost would be higher than most could pay.

  “My dear, it doesn’t matter what I promise the fairies. I won’t be alive long enough for them to collect,” Mrs. Wentworth said, giving her bitter, tinkling laugh.

  “Thank you,” Nora said as they stepped out of the car, waving Cornelius, Adele, and the others closer.

  “You’ve given my life a great ending,” Mrs. Wentworth said sincerely. “You just go ahead and live a life that makes my sacrifice worth it,” she added seriously.

  “I will,” Nora promised easily.

  Nora would never forget her first teacher, even if she hadn’t taught Nora much about magic, but about life and living and sacrifice instead.

  * * *

  Kostya stayed absolutely still as he watched the old one pick itself off the road. He never imagined he’d see such a battle and survive. He doubted any of his kind had.

  The fairies had attacked the o’onakie, trying to save the Tinker.

  Kostya hadn’t known who to root for: the old one, who would kill the fairies, or the fairies, who, if they survived, had just brought down certain death on their heads.

  The old one would never suffer their existence in his territory now. He’d kill them all, or chase them off.

  This was just getting better and better.

  Should he report the existence of the old one to the dwarven king? He’d have to think about that.

  The fairies flew off before the old one could recover. Kostya still didn’t care for their chances. If they thought the Maker would help, and would fight the o’onakie, they were strongly mistaken.

  Kostya slid his eyes to the ground as the old one passed, limping, then walking stronger. When he looked up again, the old one had stopped and was staring directly at him.

  “Clever, dwarf,” the old one said. “The illusion is woven into your skin, isn’t it? That’s how you’ve stayed invisible to all the others.”

  Kostya nodded, then swallowed down his nervousness and spoke up. “Yes, it is.”

  The old one looked down the road at where he’d been hit, then back at Kostya. “You and your kind are still not welcome here. Even after the fairies go.”

  “But—” Kostya started to protest. That wasn’t fair!

  “This is my territory, and mine alone,” the old one said, his golden eyes piercing Kostya’s soul. “The fairies will be gone soon enough.”

  Kostya nodded. “Thank you,” he managed to say. He stayed seated, shivering, as the old one suddenly took off, flowing away like the wind. After one shaky breath, then another, Kostya nodded.

  It only changed his plans for revenge a little. And he’d deliberately forget to mention the old one in his next report to the dwarven king.

  * * *

  Dale couldn’t believe how much his head hurt. It was worse than that time Rich had talked him into drinking a six-pack of beer with him, teaching him he never wanted to do that again. Dale didn’t want to open his eyes. He knew he was moving—his body rocked subtly. He had no idea where he was though. Was Brett taking him off to some cave to torture him?

  Groaning, Dale opened his eyes. Sunlight peered down on him—through the car window? He was in the backseat of a car. What the hell?

  “Good to see you up, son,” came…Dad’s voice from the driver’s seat.

  “What happened?” Dale asked, forcing himself to sit up, then breathing deeply to keep what little was in his stomach down.

  A cheap, blue-cloth roller bag sat stuffed between the seats on the passenger side. Maps lay spread out over the passenger seat. They were on the intercoastal road, heading east and going inland from the coast, Dale guessed, based on the sunshine coming in over his right shoulder.

  “You were in the clutches of the devil himself,” Dad proclaimed. He gave a theatrical shudder. “So I ran him down.”

  “You did what?” Dale asked. How? What? Why?

  “That black devil was standing in the middle of the street,” Dad explained. “He wasn’t looking at me when I came driving up. The Lord was protecting me. But that monster sure took a tumble when I ran him down.”

  “You hit Brett with your car?” Dale asked. Wow. He was suddenly kind of glad that his dad was such a sociopath.

  “What about Mom?” Dale asked, suddenly afraid for her.

  “Didn’t see her. Or Nora. But I did see those flying creatures.” Dad paused. He swallowed hard.

  Under Dad’s tan, his skin was abruptly much more pale. “Dad—you’ve seen fairies—creatures like that, before?” Dale asked.

  “Yes,” Dad admitted
. “Your sister’s in league with them.”

  Dale didn’t laugh, though he wanted to. You have no idea. “Dad—that black creature? The monster? It kidnapped Nora. We have to go back and rescue her.”

  “No, son, we do not,” Dad proclaimed, shaking his head.

  On the steering wheel, Dale could see his dad’s hands shaking. What had frightened him so much? Had it been his first encounter with the fairies? Or seeing Brett? What had happened to him?

  It didn’t matter. Dale still had to return. “Yeah, I gotta go back to Port City,” Dale insisted.

  “The gas tank is full and we’re not stopping until we’re over the border,” Dad said stubbornly.

  Dale sighed. “As soon as we stop, I’m going back. You can’t stop me. Can’t hold me forever. I will go back and…help my family.” That was it. That was the thing that Dad had always harped on—how important it was to be a family. “I’m not about to abandon my family.”

  Dad shook his head. “No. They’re not your family, not anymore.”

  “It’s my twin sister,” Dale pointed out. How could Dad deny she was his family?

  “Why can’t we just be a family? Just you and I?” Dad whined.

  Dale couldn’t explain just how wrong that was. Dad was a pig and a bully, and had verbally abused Mom for years. She’d only left when he’d escalated to physical violence.

  “Look, Dad, we can talk about it later. I, I, I promise to call you,” Dale said. This was going to be worse than dealing with the fairies once a year.

  “You promise?” Dad asked, his eyes suddenly staring at Dale hard in the rear view mirror. “A man’s true value is measured by the quality of his word.”

  Dale wasn’t even sure what that meant, but he nodded. “Yeah, Dad, I promise.” No idea how often he’d call, but he would call.

  “Then let’s go rescue your sister,” Dad said with a grin. “We be the cavalry!”

  Dale rolled his eyes. “Actually, can I use your cell phone to call them? Let Mom know I’m okay?”

  Dad grudgingly handed over his phone. It was an ancient brick, but Dale wasn’t about to complain.