by Shea Berkley
I take stock of what I have on hand. Someone, probably Grandpa, stashed my sword in my closet. I take it and strap it on. Too much weirdness is starting to happen again.
Once my sword is secure, I go to the window. Fireflies swim in the air. One bumps into the windowpane and a small face reveals the truth. Pux.
Did Leo know they were out here? No way would he willingly go outside if he saw them.
I grab the sides of the windowsill and place my forehead against the cool glass, rolling my head back and forth, thinking. How did he just disappear? It’s blowing my mind.
He said he’d meet me in Teag. First the dream about Jason. Then Kera’s gone, and now Leo vanishes like a snow cone on a hot day. Someone’s gone to a lot of trouble to make sure I’d want to return to the first realm. “Okay, you win. Whoever you are, I’m coming.”
A dozen pux now hover outside at eye level. One turns and moons me. The others bend over laughing. Disrespectful little jerks. I’d be more than happy to smoosh them like the glorified bugs they are.
One lands on the sill and tries to open the window. I flick the glass and startle him off. I’ve got to leave, but I can’t, not with the pux waiting for a chance to play dirty. Grandma will have a fit if they tear through her house.
Oregon being Oregon, dark clouds have gathered and rain is imminent. An idea forms.
With a quick snap, I detach my pillow from its case and throw open the window. The pux scatter, twinkling like little fallen stars, alluringly innocent for those who don’t know better. I vault outside and push the window down tight so the little devils can’t get in. The buzz of their swarming softens as they hover, waiting to see what I do. Waiting for a chance to attack.
I’m not into waiting. I call on the energy stored in the heavy clouds overhead, and a sliver of lightning zips down and pops a pux. A sharp squeal, and steam rises from its little body before it drops to the ground like a rock.
Oops. I think I might have hit it a little too hard.
Oh well. Live and learn. Bending, I pick it up, see it twitch, hear it moan. It’s alive.
I drop it into the pillowcase and straighten. Cocking my right eyebrow, I throw the rest of the evil fireflies a wicked smile à la Jack Nicholson in The Shining. “That’s right, you little stinkbugs. I’m playing for keeps now. No joke.”
Panic infects the group. Their wings begin to buzz. I call on more lightning, spreading it into a network of power that stuns—instead of crispifies—dozens at a time. I walk forward, scooping them up as I do and dropping them into the pillowcase.
The process takes less than four minutes. After the last one is zapped and stowed away, I tie the pillowcase shut, sling it over my shoulder and head for the woods to find Bodog. If he knows where Kera is, then I’ll be his best friend forever.
The trees expand as my world shifts, like it always does when I enter the woods. Nature nourishes me almost as much as food. Before I knew who and what I was, I lived a half life, unsure of my place, until Kera showed me my true self.
As I go deeper into the woods, my legs stretch, making me faster than any human. Bushes and trees bend out of my way and snap back into place once I pass. The gateway to the first realm lies a couple yards ahead…and then I trip—seriously face-plant it in the ground. The bag full of pux flies out of my hands and snags on a far branch. Their buzz grows. The bag splits and they spill out like drunken ants.
My mind clouds. A queasy sensation has me feeling green. Rolling onto my back, I wrap my arms around my stomach and squint up through the trees. What hit me?
Tilting my head, I see the iron sculptures poking here and there among the trees. Groaning, I dig my heels into the earth and slowly inch myself back the way I came.
I’m an idiot! How could I forget Grandma clustering her iron sculptures at the main entrance between the two realms to keep the firsts out? The iron’s poison is ripping me a nasty headache and leaching all my power.
As I painfully scoot across the forest floor, a face materializes over me. Bodog prods me with a long stick. A staff of sorts. “Why lie here? We must go.”
“I-I can’t. I-iron.” I can barely get the words out I’m so weak.
His face scrunches as if he smells something sour and his skin darkens to a tree-trunk brown before he melts into the dark recesses of the forest. Great. He’s going to leave me here to slowly die. I close my eyes. But then what can he really do? He’s too small to move the heavy iron, or even me.
I can’t die now. Kera needs me. But no matter how much I want to live, the effort to move is too much.
I hear Bodog whining in the distance like a scared puppy. That’s not good.
As I lie fighting the pain that’s eating at my body, a shadow falls over my face. I crack open my eyes and see Wyatt. He squats beside me and tsks his tongue. “Once again, you look like crap-encrusted gum on the bottom of my shoe.”
“Statues. Get me…away.”
“I get art is all about personal taste, but aren’t you acting a little overdramatic about it?” I moan, and he grabs my arm and pulls me up and over his shoulder. When he puts me down, he dumps me near a clump of bushes. I spy Bodog’s pinched and suspicious face before the little guy hunkers into the shadows.
I focus my attention on each breath and say to Wyatt, “Thanks for—”
“Saving your ass, again? Don’t mention it.” Wyatt bends, propping his hands on his knees. “Seriously,” he says, giving me a once-over, “you look like death. Is there something I need to know?”
The leaves rustle, and Bodog’s thin, wavery voice says, “Iron burns. Kills his kind.”
Wyatt smirks at the bushes, then slumps to the ground beside me. “Then you’re lucky I happened along.”
A loud harrumph sounds from the bushes. “Bodog needs no help helping.”
Wyatt leans close. “I thought a dog had attacked you. I didn’t know it was your creepy little friend. He’s not your normal everyday dwarf, is he?”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, come on.” He lowers his voice for my ears only. “You’ve got eyes. He’s beyond only-Mama-can-love-me ugly.”
I don’t know why, it’s not like I haven’t thought the same thing, but I take offense at Wyatt calling Bodog ugly. “He can’t help the way he looks. He’s different, shy at first, but he’s okay.” I notice a flashlight in Wyatt’s hand. “What are you doing out here so early?”
“Looking for Reece. I’ve tried everywhere. It’s like he disappeared into thin air.”
A mental picture of Leo flashes in my head. “Yeah, people tend to do that around here.”
“I’m beginning to wonder if one of your monster friends ate him.” The intensity in his face reveals he’s really worried.
“No…”
Why didn’t I think of that? Then again, each one was very specific as to whom it went after. Conviction leaks into my words this time. “No, dude. Your brother will show.”
He relaxes a bit. I tell him to point the flashlight into the bushes behind me, and we see a pair of big eyes blink. “Come on out, Bodog. Wyatt’s not going to hurt you. I promise.”
Grumbling floats toward me as Bodog scrounges in the underbrush. I’m not sure if he’s heard me or not. I’m about to call him again when a triumphant cry sounds, and the little man steps free of the bushes, holding a lizard between his thick fingers. He plops down beside us. Wyatt stiffens, unimpressed with Bodog’s crackly brown skin, googly eyes, and big ears, not to mention the drool slipping out of the corner of his mouth as he stares at his catch. It’s not a pretty sight.
One bite of Bodog’s jagged teeth, and the lizard’s head is gone. Three more bites see the remaining body parts eaten. Putting his hands to his face, he snuffles and snorts as he enthusiastically licks the lizard blood clean.
Wyatt grimaces. “Does he have to do that?”
I swallow with difficulty and say, “You get used to it.”
“Yeah…I don’t think so.”
Bodog spri
ngs to his feet with the help of his stick and nudges me with the end. “Up, up, up. No time to waste.” He delivers Wyatt’s chest a sharp poke and hops out of reach. “Quickly, quickly.”
“Okay, okay.” Wyatt stands up. “I’m not the fainting type. He is.”
The guy is so not my friend right now. Tugging on my shirt, Bodog pulls me up after him. I stumble, light-headedness making my world reel for a second before I shake off the last effects of the iron.
“Where are we going?” Wyatt asks.
“Teag,” Bodog says.
“Wyatt’s not going to Teag.” It would be a huge mistake taking him there.
Bodog blinks at me. “He wants answers.”
“Are you telling me Reece is in Teag?” I put my hands on my head to keep my thoughts from spinning. “Not good.”
Wyatt’s glance bounces between Bodog and me. “If my brother’s there, then that’s where I’m going.”
“You don’t know what you’re getting into.” It’s Leo and Jason all over again. Only this time, I don’t know what I’ll find waiting for me on the other side.
“By the look on your face and the sword you’re carrying—’cause you know, that’s totally normal—I’m walking into trouble.” He flashes a big grin. “I’m down with that.”
Not surprising.
Bodog grunts his approval and takes off. He moves fast, weaving in and out through the trees and disappearing and reappearing like a blinking light in the midst of the dark forest as we follow. I tell Wyatt what I can about where we’re going, warn him that he could die. The more warnings I give, the more determined he is to come along. That same curious glint he had when he wanted to see me light up is in his eyes.
Ten minutes later, we’re at a section of the barrier that corresponds with the village. It flickers weakly. Whatever magic kept it hidden before has deteriorated, showing the wall’s broad expanse and the ooze of mist. We stand facing the crackling barrier. Bodog steps forward and pushes his hands through the magic, ripping a hole between the first and human realms like a surgeon cracking open his patient’s ribs to see the moist lungs. I’m speechless. Thick mist rolls out, wraps around Bodog and pulls at his small body. Glancing over his shoulder, he nods, and as he disappears, I hear his gravelly voice call, “They wait for us. Hurry.”
Wyatt rakes his fingertips along the wall, his steps slowing as he comes to a point where his hand easily slips through. He pulls his hand free, clutching a fist full of mist. It slowly dissolves. “I’ll be damned,” he whispers more to himself than to me. Without any qualms, he rips open a section of the wall in front of him and dives into the mist. I guess once you’ve seen a guy self-combust, nothing fazes you.
It’s me who stands there alone, unable to believe what I’m seeing. The ease with which they break through the wall...it’s chilling. A shiver of alarm spikes the hair on the back of my neck. Anything, great or small, could pass between the realms. And Bodog thinks I can fix this, and return his world to the way it was?
Yeah, right. He’s a delusional, mythological creature on a magic mushroom high.
I can’t fix this. The problem is too big for one person. I’ll be lucky if I find Kera. Have a life. Live free. I know the truth. I’m walking back into disaster. It’s just waiting to happen.
Even knowing that, I can’t turn back. I slide my hand into the weakening fabric of the wall and a band of wetness spills out. Thick, misty fingers twirl around my arm. The air grows heavy. A crushing weight slams my chest. I’m pulled through vapor and spill out on the other side into Kera’s village and right next to Bodog…who’s got a sword point tucked beneath his quivering chin.
I hate it when I’m right.
“Dylan, look out!” I hear Leo shout.
The sword swipes my way, and I throw myself to the ground, landing on my side. The wet grit of the alley clings to my hands; the musty smell of rot invades my head. I jump to my feet and face the man who’s clearly out to kill us.
For a second, it’s hard for me to understand what I’m seeing. Leo hovers behind Lucinda, her long white hair crackling with energy and her eyes sparkling with that strange, crazy-chick light that tells me she’s about to go supernova on the guy’s ass. All around us, the air is on fire. The cobbled streets are strewn with bloody bodies. A thick smoke is everywhere, curling up, around, and down like I’ve never seen smoke act. People are screaming. Running. Fighting. And the guy who’s got Bodog cornered holds his sword in a shaking hand, his head whipping left and right like a pendulum. Definitely more spooked than menacing.
The sword I had strapped on before I left the house weighs heavily between my shoulder blades, but instead of reaching for it, I hold up my hands nonthreateningly. “Hey, buddy. We’re not here for a fight. You wanna put that—”
With a bang, the back door to the building on our left crashes open, and Wyatt bursts into the alleyway, knocking the man with the sword down. Wyatt straightens, disoriented, his face the color of week-old bread left in the cabinet—pinched, green, and slightly fuzzy.
When the guy he knocked down starts to stand, Wyatt punches him in the face, this time knocking him out. It’s a sweet hit, which makes me think I might want the guy along after all. I watch him turn, stumble to the head of the alleyway, and throw up.
Then again…maybe not.
“Stop hovering, Cin,” Leo says as he pushes past Lucinda. “I can take care of myself.” He checks the guy on the ground, and then looks up at me. “He’s out. I swear, I would never have told you to come here if I knew about all this.”
“You freakin’ disappeared. What was that all about?” I squat beside Leo and pick through the unconscious soldier’s weapons—a sword, a dagger, and oddly enough, brass knuckles.
Lucinda squats and blows a huge pink bubble with her gum. The scent is the same strong sweet smell that lingered right after Leo disappeared. “You were with Leo in my room. It was you who made him disappear.”
She smiles, kisses Leo possessively on the neck, and whispers in his ear before wandering toward the head of the alley. Aloof as a cat.
“Thank God, it was her. I thought…well, it doesn’t matter.” I like Leo the way he is. “What’s going on?”
“Not sure. We arrived, and then ten minutes later, all hell broke loose.”
We both stand, and I wave to Bodog, who’s muttering to his stick about black souls, to follow.
When we reach Wyatt, he’s leaning against the brick building, peering around the corner at the chaos spilling into the streets. His face isn’t as pinched-looking as it was, or as green, but he’s still not 100 percent. He rubs his eyelids and blinks rapidly. “Crazy ride into this place, though I can’t say I like the after-kick at the end.”
I cough against the swirling smoke cloaking the town. “Sorry. I should’ve warned you. You’ll feel better in a few minutes.”
I offer him the weapons I took from the guy he knocked out. He grabs the brass knuckles, slips them on, and palms the dagger, but refuses the sword. “No gun?”
“They have better ways to kill you here.”
“Do you mean faster or more painful?”
“Take your pick.”
Wyatt scouts the area, his gaze roving from building to building, watching what I can’t quite understand. The people seem to be fighting the heavy smoke and losing. The crowd is heading for the woods; men and women are corralling their families. Everyone is leaving their homes and everything they possess behind.
A man on a horse rushes by, yet in the next second, the horse and man are flying in the air. The horse screams as it hits the ground. It jerks upright, eyes rolling crazily, and dashes off. The man is nowhere in sight, and then he hits the ground, a bloody mass of flesh and bones. We all involuntarily step back.
From out of the smoke and fire, a soldier wearing a ripped and dirty uniform, and with blood congealing on his face, appears with a small band of men. It’s Granel, Navar’s lieutenant, a man I thought I’d never see again after I killed Navar.
When he sees me, his sword snaps in my direction at the same time I swing mine toward him. “Come to watch the slaughter?” he sneers.
He’s got to be kidding. With all the killing he’s done, he deserves whatever happens to him, but I don’t have anything against these people.
A sharp scream has us all looking around. In the middle of the street, a boy a few years younger than me dangles in the air, suspended by one of the inky streaks. Before I can take a step forward, a ball of fire spits out, engulfing the boy’s body. He’s then tossed away, burning and shuddering along the ground like a black snake firework.
My skin flickers with heat at the sight.
“We’re surrounded, and there’s no fighting them.” Granel’s voice shakes with anger and a touch of awe.
“We must leave,” Lucinda says, her body tense, her hands clutching Leo’s arm. “We cannot win this fight. This magic is too powerful.”
My stomach twists, knowing she’s right. I give Leo the sword Wyatt didn’t want. “I’ll divert them. Get everyone out of here.”
Without waiting, I rush forward, ignoring Bodog’s calls for me to come back. I can’t. Someone has to stop these things. The black streak wavers in front of me, its shadow of a face taunting me the closer I get. I speed up, jump, and in midleap, I draw my sword. The blade bursts into flame. I bring the sharp edge down with all my might and slash through the face.
I land, swoop around, and continue to cut and sever the streak to ribbons. When I’m done, there isn’t a trace of the murdering darkness, only wisps of inky shadows dispersing along the ground.
I draw near the boy, but he’s beyond saving. To be honest, destroying the black streak wasn’t nearly as hard as killing the lake serpents, so why was Granel running scared? Why let that thing kill a defenseless kid?
Though I told them to leave, no one did. I turn to the group, power humming through my veins. Their obvious horror dulls my anger. Why are they looking at me that way? No, not at me. I turn around in time to see the wisps along the ground merge back into the inky streak. It opens its mouth and a sound like cracking glass splits the air, knocking me off my feet, splitting the cobblestones, and shattering nearby windows.