by A C Wilds
“Are you wearing a crown?” I ask, not able to keep the giggle in.
He looks up before pulling it off. “That’s the third time I’ve taken it off. Anser has a way of trying to make me seem kinglier than I am.”
He places the crown inside of his satchel, then continues to secure his tack. When I take another glance at his armor, it seems less embellished than mine, like he doesn’t want people to know he’s a king.
“Your horse, my lady,” Anser says, handing me my nuckelavee’s reigns.
It’s the same horse I rode to the palace. I reach over to grab a sugar cube out of Caedis’ outstretched hand—the one he was about to feed to his mount. I slip it under her lips.
She chomps down, throwing her head in appreciation. Grabbing the saddle horn, I hoist myself into the seat and adjust my stirrups.
“Ready to go?” Caedis asks, walking his nuckelavee to the front of the gates.
“Anima,” Umbra shouts, trotting over to where Caedis and I are. Her face is ashen like she hasn’t slept. I want to feel guilty for that, but then I remember what she did.
“May we ride with you, Your Highness?” Togmerin asks. His tone is very royal.
“Sure,” I say with a shrug. Telling him no would make me look like a brat. I need to swallow some of this pride so we can win the war. No one wants tension in the ranks.
Shifting back in my saddle, I ask Caedis, “Will you be opening the portal?”
“Yes, it’s not as strenuous as it once was. After all this time of traveling back and forth, it comes easy to me.”
He sits straighter in the saddle, glancing at me sideways to see if I’ll be impressed. Even if I wanted to be, I have no way to gauge that power, but it is interesting since ours is similar.
“Can I create one? I’d like to have my own way of coming and going. I don’t enjoy relying on others.”
“Yes, it should be natural to you. They taught you to be a witch first and a demon second. Portal magic is witch magic.”
“Why are there not a thousand portals then? Surely witches would want access.”
“There were only five witches I trusted at the time I created it. Each one is long dead, but their histories should still hold a record. I’m sure after thousands of years, they have lost it.”
“What about the Dark demon who did it when we entered the Deathlands? How would she be able to wield witch magic, and Torque brought us here using a portal?”
“That’s an answer I’m destined to find out. I don’t like others stealing my spells.”
His face told me not to press the issue. It’s not like I stole the magic, but if I were the one who did, I’d be scared to have Caedis look at me that way. Now I know what Umbra was so upset about.
“After you, Princess,” he says, a wide smile.
“Don’t call me that,” I say, squinting at him.
“It takes a while to get used to, but now that they have opened the door, it’s hard to close it again.”
He pushes his nuckelavee, and we trot together through the portal. What we’re met with is something I wasn’t expected. The world is on fire. A battle rages on. Rahna is in the middle of it.
Namir comes barreling out of the portal with a roar so loud that everything pauses for a second. Rahna’s eyes find me as I stare straight ahead. A smile crosses her face before she runs Ira through a demon at her feet.
Tenebris is in full battle mode. My sisters all gather together, cutting the Bloods down in the front. The Bloods are faring well, but the thought of any casualties leave a nasty taste in my mouth.
“I have to find Torque,” I say, taking off to the side of the battle, drawing Hubris in case anyone tries to get too close.
The rest of the Death army flows through the portal, and I feel a collective sigh from the fighting demons. The reinforcements have come.
Searching through the blood and fire, I finally find him. He’s battling Marissa. Her screams are loud. Why isn’t he freezing her blood?
I jump off my nuckelavee, giving her a pat on the flank to get her out of the way, and cut my way to Torque. Marissa is mine to deal with.
Witches try to attack, but they go down like butter with a hot knife. There is no way they had a chance. Some I recognize, but others are foreign to me. It solidifies my theory of her gathering a witch army.
“Need any help?” I ask with a smile.
He doesn’t stop fighting, but his gigantic grin and the relief I feel through the bond says he’s happy to see me.
“Demon lover. Have you come to die at my hand finally?” Marissa sneers, backing away from Torque and keeping us both in her sight.
She’s dressed in Tenebris war leathers, something I’ve never had to don, but know all about from the invasion. She’s covered in demon blood, and my need to squeeze her head from her neck is palpable.
“I’m glad it’s you. The one I get to kill. Show Rahna that she built the perfect soldier. I will always be better than you.”
As expected, her jealously gets the better of her and she charges blindly. I ready my stance and raise my weapon, waiting for her to come to me, but before I can strike, a white blur barrels into her, ripping her head off in a matter of seconds.
“That wasn’t fair, Namir. She was mine to kill.” I pout, but his stern face tells me something else is going on.
She has your human. The one you call Shelley.
An icy wave of fear comes over me, and Torque grabs onto me. It turns to a fire in my veins. If she’s touched Shelley, I will gut her right here, mother or not.
I run, ignoring everything around me. The only thing that matters is getting to Shelley before Rahna can do something to her. I feel Namir on my left and Torque on my right.
A shadow comes from above, and I glance up to see Caedis in all his glory.
“Caedis!” I shout. “Get me to the witch!”
I point in Rahna’s direction, then reach up as he glides down and scoops me up. Trying not to get distracted by his scent of pine and sandalwood, I concentrate on the mission.
“Where do you want to land?”
“As close to that bitch as possible. Drop me on her if you can.”
A chuckle comes from him that I feel against my back. “Hold on, and I’ll drop you right there. You’ll have to get closer to her.”
I growl in response as I ready myself for the drop. The battle sounds fall away as I concentrate on the only thing that matters—saving Shelley. I still don’t see her, but Namir wouldn’t lie to me. She’s here somewhere.
The wind rushes at me as he lets me go. It’s not a big fall, but the motion of it makes my stomach lurch. I land in a crouch right before a witch. I don’t know this one, but she as good as dead.
We strike, blades crashing together, but I run my sword through her and keep sprinting. My speed carries me to the edge of the portal. The wind whips my hair, and the sight before me almost makes me crumble.
Shelley is on the ground, blood crusted on her nose. Her long hair spills across her face, her glasses broken next to her. A witch stands guard behind her, but there is some magic floating around them.
“Take another step, and she dies.”
Anger pumps through my blood, and I spin around to face the witch who brought me into this life but took everything away from me.
“Let. Her. Go. Now,” I scream. My scalp tingles, and I see red. My smoke comes out, and my eyes glow so bright I can see the reflection on her face. It’s not fear—it’s want.
“Come with me, and she lives. There’s no other way. That spell sucks the life out of her little by little. If I die, she does, too. We’re linked.”
She’s gone mad. Her magic absorbs her entire body with power, but it feels tainted. It’s not the holy magic I held with the orb;—it’s something else.
“You know I can’t go with you. Let’s end this here before you do actual damage to the realms. This isn’t you. We’ve always been on the right side.”
She laughs, and it’s like the
darkness consumes her. A chill of fear runs through me. She’s not the woman I thought she was. Maybe she never has been.
“Make your decision. Tick-tock… The human will not last long.”
I turn my attention to Shelley, willing her to get up, but her chest is barely rising. Her skin is the color of ash, and the blonde ponytail she sports is matted with dirt. This isn’t good.
“Let the human go, Rahna. Your fight is with us, not her.”
“Torque,” she growls. “I see it was a mistake to send Anima. I should have done it myself. Make you beg me for your life. A useless demon who can’t even control his own kingdom.”
A flare of anger blasts through me. I don’t think—I just whip out my shadow smoke and grab her by the neck. She’s taken by surprise, but she counters the attack and the smoke disperses.
“Have it your way,” she cackles.
Shelley’s body lifts, and her head lulls back as if it’s already snapped from her neck. She screams out the worst sound I’ve ever heard. When it digs into me, I know Rahna has me.
“Stop!” I cry out, taking a step in their direction. A hand is clamped on my arm, and I turn to see the hurt in Torque’s eyes. He can feel what I’m about to do.
“I won’t let you do this. You can’t go. Anima, please. Think about all we’ve done. How far we’ve come. Don’t throw it away.”
“I’m not throwing it away. This is for Shelley. She’s my best friend. The only friend I’ve ever had.”
“We can figure out another way.”
The words pass his lips, and Shelley lets out another scream. My insides die a little more, and I take a step away from Torque toward the portal. Caedis lands next to him, and the guys study one another. That’s tomorrow’s problem. Right now, I have to save Shelley.
“Are you ready, protege?” Rahna sneers.
“Always, Mother,” I retort.
Her face crumbles, and the magic holding Shelley buckles before she catches it again. Her eyes widen, then she sees Nox and Uriel running toward us. A genuine look of fear passes over her.
“Get through the portal, now!” Her urgency has kicked up. She squeezes the magic around Shelley one more time, and I hear her bones break. I rush to get to her, but the trap waiting for me has already been sprung. I’m encased in a magic bubble.
Pain courses through my body, and I howl. Namir roars with me, but he’s too far away. No one can save me now. I must ride this out, stay safe until I can figure out a way to get us out of here.
The witches pull back and begin their retreat, piling into the portal. One after another, they jump, fly, or run through. The battlefield clears as Rahna holds me in this pained state.
Fire unleashes and I’m burning on the inside, the magic keeping it going on a cycle. I don’t know how to stop it or even how to make my powers protect me from it. Despair takes over, and I gaze into the crowd.
Torque and Caedis stand beside one another, frozen in time. Afraid to move in case she hurts me more. They’re so different, Blood and Death. It’s like looking at two halves to a whole, something I hadn’t considered before this moment.
The magic flares again, and the fire reaches my head. I collapse onto my knees, keeping my eyes locked with theirs. I have to make sure they know I’ll keep fighting.
“I love you,” I whisper. “Come for me.”
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Changer Series - Book One
1
Manny’s
Azra
The clang of dishes, and the smell of the grease fryer permeate the air. Manny’s is a small diner situated in an even smaller town in rural Virginia. It has that old retro feel with red pleather booths and a jukebox in the corner. The specials are comfort food, and the people come mainly for the pie. This is the place I call home now. It’s completely different than my life in New York, but everything about this new life is.
I hustle to table five and take the order of the very handsome regular that comes in like clockwork every Friday. He is tall and lean but has a great big beard like a lumberjack. Most of the men in this town work for the local factory, and Manny’s is the go-to place after work. The ratio of guys to girls here is 5:1, so there is always light flirting and sometimes big tips.
“Hey Jack, the usual?” I ask, even though I know his answer. It’s been the same since I started working here two years ago.
“Yes, please. And how is my favorite waitress this evening? Doing anything fun after work today?” he asks with an amused tone, because he already knows what I am going to say.
“No, nothing going on after work. Just some good old binge-watching on Netflix,” I reply, with a tight lip and a flicker of pain in my eyes.
“That’s a shame, Azra. You know, a pretty girl like you could have the pick of the litter in Hellebore. I know you’d make some poor sap lucky,” he says, as he tries to grasp for my hand.
“Thanks, Jack. I’m pretty content with being alone,” I say, pulling my hand away. This guy is lucky he tips so well.
“Well, if you change your mind, I want to put my hat in the ring,” he says, with a slight seductive tone.
“Don’t worry, you will be the first to know,” I say with a chuckle in my throat to hide my contempt. Don’t get me wrong; Jack is hot. He is personable, respectful, and has a good job. It’s just that I don’t date. Especially not after what happened to me two years ago. Love isn’t worth it.
I shuffle over to the counter and put my order in before turning toward the coffee machine to make myself a cup. I’m dragging ass today, and the dinner crowd is going to be in any moment. I need to caffeinate to keep my eyes open. Friday night is Mystical Night at Manny’s. Our local tarot reader and psychic makes an appearance here once a week to read people and provide hope to the weary. I don’t believe in any of it, but it gives the folks something to do, and Noli is the best at what she does. She makes people believe that better things are on the horizon and that their lives mean something. It’s better than Prozac and cheaper than a therapist. Besides, Noli is like one of my favorite people. She is upbeat, helps everyone out, and always pays her rent on time. She’s my roommate and best friend. We live down the road from Manny’s in a two-bedroom ranch style house that was built a million years ago. It’s falling apart at the seams, but it’s cheap and cozy. Noli has made these last two years bearable. I couldn’t have made it through them without her.
The bell over the door rings to signal more customers. We are going to have a full house tonight which means two things, a whole lot of being on my feet and some pretty sweet tips. I hate being a waitress, but it was the only job available when I got to town. I would rather be in the arena show jumping horses, but money is money.
Noli steps through with her bags of tricks. I rush over and grab a bag to relieve her and bring it over to the card table already set up in the back of the big open room. She’s got on her usual garb, a big flowy purple maxi skirt with a white peasant top. Her hair is braided down her back, and there are some crystals and charms threaded through. She says they are for luck and to help keep evil spirits away, but I think she does it because it looks cool. She talks about magic and mystical beings all the time, but I assume it is just her schtick. She’s quirky like that. She even has a scarf tied on top her head like a bandana, with the tails mixing in with her thick chestnut braid. She’s a knockout standing at 5’8” with a lean figure and these great big green eyes. Her face is soft and inviting. People fall in love with her instantly. She has no problem getting all the guys in Hellebore. Except for Jack; he seems to be impervious to her charms.
“Thanks, girl. All this crap is so heavy,” she says with a huff.
“No problem, Roomie. So, what’s on the agenda for tonight? A little tarot? A little crystal ball? Or maybe a magic show?” I say jokingly, because all this is just for fun, even if the old ladies of this town believe it to be true.
“Haha, v
ery funny. If you must know, we will be doing some tarot and rune reading tonight. I figured I’d switch it up and give the old cronies something to talk about at their canasta card game this week.”
“Interesting. Will it be like the tarot reading you did on me yesterday? You know, the one where the same card kept coming up?” I tease, wiggling my eyebrows up and down. It was peculiar to me that only one card kept showing up every time she flipped a new one over from the deck, but I’m convinced she was just messing with me. She claims that it’s the cosmos, or whatever, trying to tell us something, but I think it’s total bullshit. A piece of paper isn’t going to tell the future.
“I already told you that it wasn’t a trick deck. It’s up to you to decide if you want to believe in the things that are right in front of you. Don’t worry. I’ll love you anyway, even if you are a null,” she tells me, while she starts sorting her stuff across the table.
“Fine, I’ll walk away now and leave you to it. I need to get Jack his order before it gets cold anyway. See you in a bit, Oh Mighty Oracle.” With a little bow, I head over to the counter in search of my order. Noli gives me a huge scowl and turns around to continue her setup.
It doesn’t take long for the fast-paced motions of waitressing to start up. Fridays are my favorite, if I had to choose, because there is continuous work and no downtime to sit and think about past lives and past loves. During the week, it’s much slower. I hate waiting around for people to come in. Noli is the real reason everyone is here tonight, but I am capitalizing on it. We need the money, and there are no other jobs in Hellebore.
Before long, it’s 9:00 pm, and we are cleaning up to leave for the day. I’m scrubbing down tables and replacing the napkins when Noli comes up behind me to start her usual Friday night pestering.
“So RaRa, I think maybe tonight you’ll want to come to Pete’s with me? Melanie is sick, and I need a wing woman. And before you say a thing, I know you don’t like to go out, and I know you aren’t looking to hook up, but for once in your life, please just come out to loosen up. You’re almost 25, and you act like an 80-year-old. I worry about you girl. Most of all, I want you to be happy,” she pleads. And it is true — all of it. I do act 80, and I am watching my life pass me by, but it’s just…I just can’t.