Night Rises

by Amber Lynn

  I think I saw a hospital back by the school we just left. It might take demon patients suffering mental problems. I have a nice candidate for whatever treatment they have come up with to cure that particular ailment.

  “Are you trying to tell us there is a person sitting back there with you that is over two thousand years old?” I ask trying to do some math with just general numbers and dates that I am trying to remember concerning Solomon.

  “That would be a true statement,” the man answers for himself. “I am actually around three thousand if that makes you feel better. I am sure you have a ton of questions, but please let me explain things before you make a play for my ring. As Ben describes it to me, a snatch and grab won't work in this case.”

  “You cannot be human,” I say stating what my mind finally comes up with after all of its calculations.

  “But I am. It is the very thing you are tasked with taking from me that keeps me alive. If it were to be removed from my finger, all my years could catch up with me and turn me to dust.”

  I guess we can forget about the trials. It sounds impossible to achieve the goal following the rules.

  “You don’t sound certain that it will out right kill you,” Hilda says. “Have you tried to remove it before?”

  I like how we all just take this guy’s word that he is an ancient king. I think it speaks to us all having been around the block a few too many times. No questions about how he faked aging and dying years before make-up artists were all the rage. I am not sure how he could have faked wrinkles back in the day.

  “When I was younger, I would occasionally take it off to age. I have had the ring since I was twenty and there were a few times I needed to look more mature,” he explains. “I assume since I would physically change, the years were catching up.”

  “Do you have anything up your sleeve that would help, Hilda?” Alex asks jumping right in trying to solve the problem.

  “Immortality is really tricky. It tends to need big mojo to pull it off and if you must know, I haven’t perfected it yet. I have learned some tricks, but nothing that would help here.”

  Perfect. I wonder if there is some place Solly wants to be dropped off.

  “Demon?” Sebastian queries in a voice that indicates his tongue is about to fall out from making the request.

  “I have tried to come up with an acceptable solution for the problem longer than everyone in this vehicle has been alive. The only thing I have in my tool belt that we have come up with is to turn him into marble. He didn't like the idea of hanging out in your lobby though.”

  “Great. Where can we drop you two off?”

  “Not so fast, Buttercup. If the angels say you are going to be wearing the ring, you find a solution to the problem. I have known Solly long enough that I had to let him know change was coming. I just don't know how you accomplish it.”

  The angels weren't specific on how far in the future I was sporting the new accessory. It could be centuries before I figure out how to obtain the ring without killing the man wearing it.

  “A day or two isn't a lot of time to come up with a solution. She is supposed to have this done before her birthday. I will use the rest of the flight time to see if I can find out more about the ring itself. If I can find out who made it, maybe I can find a way to transfer the immortality to another object and leave whatever powers it holds alone,” Hilda says.

  I don't really want to have the ring, but I am curious just what it will do. Gabe and Michael listed so many theories that it would be interesting to know if any of them are true.

  “Everyone thinks I will eventually wear the ring, have you found it to be an easy burden to bear?”

  “As far as burdens go, the living forever portion is the only thing that gets me down. Don't get me wrong; even after this many years, I am not ready to die. I haven't used the ring’s power for years. The world has changed so much that I don't see the point.”

  “I am going to be upset at myself for asking this, but have you thought about turning? Wouldn't you be able to live your life without the ring?” I didn't want to give my own solutions, but it seems like a plausible idea.

  “I am adverse to losing the sun and drinking blood. Before now, there wasn't enough of a reason for considering that possibility. I can deal with the change if that is my only option.”

  “That's good news. Would it for sure work?” Sebastian asks. “Theoretically it would be swapping one form of immortality for another, but do you think the ring somehow prohibits that from happening?”

  “Not enough information to process at this time. After we touch down in Scotland, I should have a clearer picture. I would ask for angel advice, but I don’t think it would be handed out this situation,” Hilda replies. “If you fill me in on just what the ring is capable of, I may be able to cross-reference things quicker.”

  “I have heard the rumors of what people think it can do. They are about as trues as the rumors of how many wives and mistresses I had back in the day. The ring doesn’t allow me to control demons, or other species of paranorms that you have come across, and trust me, God didn't have a hand in making this ring. Years ago, obviously, I had a sister that is hard to find out about in the history books because of the amount of brothers listed before her. She was brutally murdered and in my grief I requested help from a gypsy, as some would call them. She charmed the ring to give me the ability to communicate with the dead. I was not aware she also cursed it to make me live with my grief forever.”

  The first thought that comes to my mind is that I need to call Gabe and tell him to either forget about it or come up with a different trial. Even if we are able to keep Solomon alive, I don't want anything to do with a ring that allows the dead to talk to me. I have had brushes with ghouls, an experience I don't recommend, and the ghosts are only here in this plane because of some important task they feel they need to accomplish. Sitting around talking to them is wasting their time.

  “That is really all it does?” Hilda asks clearly disappointed. “People have been searching for that thing for years and you don't even get to make wishes with it or control another person's mind. Do you at least get to talk to some cool people?”

  “You would not believe the number of times I have wished I had never laid eyes on the thing. It didn't even work how I thought it would. My sister stayed around for a couple of weeks, but once I tracked down her murderer, she left. After that, I continued to see dead people all the time and eventually found I could control them if I wanted. It is not an ability worth the price of admission. I finally learned to control it enough that I just turn it off.”

  “I am curious, what did the person that gave you the ring tell you it would do?” I ask. If it made him so miserable, I am surprised he didn't take it off once his sister moved on.

  “Her words echo through my brain to this day. She said 'This ring will bring you greatness and help you find what you have lost. As long as you wear it, she will always be with you.'”

  “Sounds about normal for something a witch type person would say. Maybe she was one of Hilda's ancestors.”

  “Speaking of ancestors, the last time I read a history book, your father looked an awful lot like the guy sitting next to you,” Sebastian states drawing my immediate attention. “How exactly does that all work out. Your father couldn't have gotten old and passed everything down to you if he is currently standing in our foyer.”

  “That would be rather difficult. I didn't know Ben had changed places with my father back then. I think that is part of the reason he has spent years trying to help me.”

  “I explained the situation to Solomon when I realized his dilemma. He didn't grow up missing a father figure because I filled in, but I felt I owed it to him anyway,” Ben says.

  “You could always release his dad and let them reunite,” I suggest. Whether he wants to do it or not, I am letting both of my statues get their lives back when we get home. I don't care that they are really Sebby's and that they will be more confused tha
n a dolphin that just grew legs and is walking on land. Let's just pretend I didn't come up with that thought. It was weird.

  “It is a nice thought, but too much time has gone by for any kind of reunion. Me being the only person he recognizes wouldn't be fun.”

  I don't care. My mind is finally made up and the task will be dealt with. Now, it is time to grab Sebastian's secret weapon and move on. History was never my greatest subject and having had to talk about it so much in the last twenty minutes, or however long we have been driving along, has filled my boring talk for the rest of the year. It even put Sophia to sleep.

  Chapter 16

  A weapons room my weapons are envious of

  The home we pull up in front of is just what I was expecting. Elegant, humungous, and amazing are all words that come to mind. Not at all the type of place I would pick for myself. Something about it makes it hard to focus in on any of its features. You just have to sit back and stare without really picking up any words to describe things.

  “Hey, Sebastian, since you are practically my brother, do you think me and Sam could crash here when we decide to tour this city. Maybe we should change our itinerary to places you already have homes.”

  Phee is jumping up and down with excitement. I don't know who let her near the sugar, but they should be smacked. She is making way too many plans and I really want to give her a reality check about not all of us potentially surviving the battle, but I just cannot bring myself to do it.

  “I will give you a list later. We don't have time for a full tour today, so stick close and don't wander off. I haven't been here for a while and you never know who might have decided to use the place for themselves.”

  “You get a lot of unexpected visitors? I find that unlikely.” With the amount of security that we have back home, and Sebastian's paranoia about it, I don't see him being lax on the matter even if we are in a different country.

  “People sometimes need a place to hideout, not everyone can gain access to Faerie or Ghost Town. When they run out of options, they sometimes show up here, or one of my other places.”

  “Great. Let's get in and then back to the plane. Is whatever you are picking up going to need all of us to carry?”

  Maybe he has a giant anvil or something he wants to drop on the Collective's troop's heads. I am not sure what effect that would have on a paranorm, but I am willing to find out.

  “You have your special knives and swords, and I have mine.” We have made it to the front door and he opens it up by just turning the knob. He probably has millions of dollars’ worth of stuff inside the home and he doesn't even bother to lock it.

  Men. I will never understand how their brains work.

  “Do you have Excalibur sitting inside waiting to be pulled out of a rock?”

  “Don't be silly. I keep it locked in a case. I was thinking of using Attila's sword for this trip. Excalibur can be fun, but it is more of a party favor,” Sebastian says and starts down a hallway at a fast clip.

  The rest of us hurry to keep up and quickly find ourselves being led up a set of stairs. I have a feeling the room he is leading us to is going to be hard for me to leave. He has mentioned two legendary swords that I never dreamed of seeing in real life.

  I cannot believe he has kept his best weapons a secret from me. Not only do I love to use them, but I think they make great wall accessories. It is probably good that I am carrying Sophia now. My hands will hopefully keep from grabbing everything I see.

  Sebastian turns to a door and enters a code into the keypad there. I guess he has his priorities straight. Everyone come on in and make yourselves at home, the art and such throughout the house is all yours, but the weapons are secure.

  “Some of the things in this room are dangerous, so please don’t touch before you ask,” Sebastian says and then opens the door wide. “And if you hear anything speaking to you, just ignore what it says.”

  What a fun introduction. “Before even walking in and having a look for myself, what is the newest weapon in your little collection?”

  “I would say it is a tie between the Thompson submachine gun and the BAR. Both are from Bonnie and Clyde’s collection, which makes them almost eighty years old.”

  “And the oldest?” I can now see the walls of the room covered in swords, knives, guns, tridents, scythes, bows, and axes in all different shapes and sizes. There are a couple of glass showcases with more weapons, but their shininess is nothing compared to everything else. This is what I call art.

  “That is hard to answer. I have no way of knowing for sure when some of the owners really lived. That trident over there was supposed to belong to Poseidon. If that is true, it is a good example of the age range you are looking at.”

  I hear someone in the group whistle. It must have taken a while to get all of these weapons in one place, not to mention the price tag on some of this stuff.

  “I guess I know where we are moving our bedroom to, little one,” I say glancing down at Sophia.

  “I don’t think that is a good idea. Can’t you hear the weird voices? Daddy said not to listen, but they are loud.” Her little face is scrunched up in what looks like pain.

  I don’t hear anything and it worries me that she does. “Does anyone else hear voices?”

  “I do, but I am used to toning voices out with all of my minions,” Ben says. “They aren’t saying anything important. I am guessing you have more than weapons in here somewhere. Ancient relics can be a pain in the butt to deal with.”

  “I haven’t heard them personally, but in research I have heard some of the items call out to certain people. Anyone else picking it up?” Sebastian asks.

  A round of negatives makes me feel a little better about not hearing it myself. I don’t like that Ben and Sophia both can though.

  “Let me just grab that sword I wanted and my original Bowie knife. We can get out of here and worry about what artifacts I have hidden at a later time,” Sebastian says walking over to the wall and lifting a large sword down.

  The metal sings as he whips it around a little to get a good feel. Sebastian with a sword deserves a lot of appreciation. Art in motion. That is all I have to say on that subject.

  He grabs a knife that looks like it has seen better days. I don’t get a great look at it before he sticks it in a sheath on his thigh. “Do those weapons have an advantage over the ones we have back home?”

  Neither of them shot fireworks to prove they were special. All my special weapons had to be obtained by crazy methods, which in my mind makes them capable of doing whatever the angels claim.

  “Yes, I won't bore you with the history since we both know you would fall asleep after a couple of sentences. They don't ensure kills, but they are the sharpest weapons I have and will do a lot of damage. Alex, can I interest you in anything? I have a wicked set of Colts that would be right up your alley.”

  “Do you have some good ammo to go along with them?” Alex even pondering carrying a weapon is a phenomenon worthy of media attention.

  I have seen him target practice, so I know he is a great shot, but I haven’t seen him with a weapon outside of the house.

  “We have never gone against the kind of threat we are going to be facing. The fight that could have happened in Faerie is nothing compared to going up against Stevens. With Candace being there things are even more dangerous. I won't fool myself into thinking I can kill everything they throw at us.”

  “I can hook you up with some pure silver. I don't think you will need anything more than that and the guns were made to shoot anything,” Sebastian says as he grabs the pair of guns off the wall and tosses them over to Alex. I am sure they have some great history behind them, probably about the Wild West and a shootout at dawn.

  “Are you handing out weapons for anyone in the room, or are only immediate family members included?” Ben asks while concentrating on the wall in front of us. Everyone, even Sophia, has their eye on something in the room.

  “Why would you need a weapon?
” I ask. I don't plan for him to be on the battlefield with us and I don't believe for a second he lost the ability to just call a weapon to his hand whenever he feels like it.

  “I wasn't planning to let anyone just have their choice of my private stash,” Sebastian adds.

  “I want to be just as prepared as the rest of you for taking on our opponent. All I am asking is to borrow one of your scythes. I have one of my own, but you can't just call a another reaper's scythe and having two will look amazing while I am in action.”

  Maybe for someone of his stature it would work, but if I tried to wield two of those five-foot-long monstrosities would only lead to me tripping myself.

  “You are joining us in the actual fight? What about Solomon? It isn't a place for a human even if they have immortality,” Alex states.

  A human would have better luck standing between a starving tiger and their first glimpse of edible meat in days. I don't think either side is going to have any give when the time comes. We may be able to knock the aggressiveness out of some of the troops, but they will still be paranorms that think they are on the side of right.

  “Do you seriously think I could sit at home and worry whether or not Buttercup is holding her own? She bears my mark and that would give me some input, but not enough to keep the carpet from becoming just threads between my feet. I am guessing someone is staying behind to babysit Sophia, they can look after Solly, too.”

  I don't know how much I trust Solly and the idea doesn't sound great to me. If I could believe Ben would remain on our side fighting with us, having a demon around wouldn't be horrible. “Do we have any guarantee that you won't use the weapon you are requesting against one of us?”

  “Would you like me to pinkie swear?”

  “Does that have some kind of binding that it doesn't have for other people when it is done with you?”

  “It can,” he says coming closer to me and extending his right hand, pinkie out, towards me. I hesitate for a second, but I really don't believe locking pinkies will make a lick of difference. The first rule of dealing with demons is still never trust a demon. “I vow to always fight on your side and protect you with my life. May not even my Ruler break this pact.”