Matchbox Girls

by Chrysoula Tzavelas

  Absolven leapt away from it, shadow wings billowing out. The metal insect’s head whipped around and it rose up on its back two legs and lunged at the big man. One mandible pierced a shadow wing and Absolven screamed as blood sprayed across the rooftop.

  Marley ran to the twins. Lissa had her face covered, while Kari was staring, eyes enormous. It was the precursor to a wail, she knew. She scooped one child up in each arm, just as Kari started screaming.

  Absolven tumbled away from the metal insect, half his shadow indistinct. All of his attention was focused on the creature. It moved toward him, rolling from one leg to another, and he watched it like a cat. Then he dove at it, rolling under it and grabbing one of the metal legs. It bent in his grip and he wrenched at it before rolling away empty-handed. A mandible slashed at his back as he escaped its reach.

  Kari wailed again, and Lissa was weeping into her hands. Marley realized that the metal insect traveled within a reddened shadow just like the one that had followed Kari and Lissa, and that now surrounded her. It was part of them, part of their power.

  Horror made her legs weak. The twins were no longer safe. The bloody shadow invaded their auras, throbbing as though it was alive, bound around them like an umbilical cord wrapped around their necks.

  The thing snapped at Absolven, and the dreadful red umbilical pulsed brightly. Marley’s vision went dark around the edges.

  She put the twins down, slipping away from their grasping hands. Absolven rolled away from the metal insect again and came up in a crouch, grinning fiercely. Two of the abomination’s legs were hobbled now. Marley wasn’t sure she’d place a bet on who would win. But whichever nightmare won the duel, she was certain the twins would lose. There were burdens that children shouldn’t have to bear.

  Absolven moved slightly, and Marley charged. Too late, he saw her coming from the corner of his eye, and shifted his attention and his center of balance away from the metal insect. But it wasn’t enough. Marley’s smaller frame struck him as low as she could, and she pushed and lifted with every aching muscle in her body.

  Absolven flipped over the railing at the edge of the terrace. He turned the cartwheel into a somersault and then, mid-air, stretched out to try and catch himself on the edge. But Marley had surprised him too much, tossed him too far. His one working wing stretched taut, but it was useless alone. Marley watched, panting, as he dropped out of sight.

  She made herself look down. He dropped like a rock, silently clawing the air. One second, maybe two, and it lasted forever. And right as he hit the ground, nine stories below, he vanished.

  Moving as though her body belonged to another person, Marley turned around. The metal insect was staring at the twins, who huddled together where Marley had left them. “Fall apart,” she muttered, willing the artificial monster to collapse into a junk heap again. Its mandibles moved slowly, instead.

  “The bad guy is gone. I made him go away,” she announced loudly. The twins had made the creature out of their fear and rage and strange power. The bad guy was gone. Reassure them of that and their nightmarish friend would go too, right?

  Beyond the metal insect, where the staircase had once been, Marley saw a hand and then AT’s curly-haired head appear over the edge of the terrace. She pulled herself over the edge, and Marley wondered if she’d climbed the wall itself. Then it became much more surreal: Nod followed her over the edge, and while AT may have climbed, it was clear that the dog had walked up the wall. Behind Nod came Heart’s feathery red tail, as she backed up the wall, yes, dragging Corbin by his arm.

  Marley blinked and shook off a rush of vertigo as Heart’s orientation changed. Last came Grim, limping backwards and snarling at a bulbous orange-grey mass: the remaining pollution elementals, all occupying the same space.

  Heart released Corbin, who coughed and brushed himself off. White indentations glistened on his arm where Heart had held him.

  AT said, “Is Absolven gone?” She sounded dubious, staring at the metal insect.

  “Yes. What do we do about the quit-smoking ads?” Marley said, gesturing at the elementals.

  AT dragged her gaze away from the metal insect—why wasn’t it falling to pieces?—and said, “The dogs’ll keep them occupied until they run out of energy. Their makers ran away.” She sounded pleased with herself. “What is that thing? Is it...?”

  Marley moved to the twins and crouched down to gather them to her. “It’s all right.”

  Neither twin was sobbing now, although tears streamed continuously down Kari’s face. They both stared at the metal insect with huge, terrified eyes. Then Lissa dragged her gaze away to put a cold hand on Marley’s cheek. “Marley, it’s going to eat us.”

  The bottom dropped out of Marley’s stomach. The metal insect’s mandibles thrashed together again, over and over. It started creeping forward, each leg twitching, one at a time. .

  Marley scooped both children up again. They didn’t cling this time, and as distracted dead weight, they were a lot harder to carry. “Corbin? The girls made it. Why isn’t it falling apart now that the threat is gone?”

  “They’re kids. Their subconscious is still doing most of the driving.” He snapped his fingers toward the metal monstrosity. “But the Hush shouldn’t allow something this huge to exist for very long. Odd.”

  Then there was no time for words, as the unsteady scraping footsteps of the twins’ nightmare burst into an engine-like motion. Marley turned and ran. She headed away from the edge of the terrace, keenly aware of the consequences of one powerful blow. The bulk of the building rose up another two floors. Surely there must be another exit on this level? But all she could find was what looked like a small freight elevator, and the doors would not open.

  She banged frantically on the elevator button and then turned her attention to soothing the twins. She desperately wanted to turn around and watch the thing bearing down on her, but children didn’t look under the bed for imaginary monsters, did they? They knew they were there and they protected themselves by hiding their heads under the covers. So she huddled with the twins in the alcove of the elevator and whispered every comforting thing she could think of.

  The grinding and clattering approached. There was the yelp of an injured dog. Then the sound of metal against metal changed and AT shouted, “Hey! I won’t let you have what you want!”

  Marley twisted her body to see. AT stood behind the metal insect, holding it back by one of its bent legs. She shed a gentle radiance, illuminated without shadows on her form. But darkness curved away from her, a single deep shadow shaped like a wolf. Her dogs were nowhere to be seen.

  The metal insect turned on her. Marley held the hysterically weeping twins close and watched as their nightmare fought the dog girl. The rooftop terrace, already in disarray, was devastated. For what seemed like an eternity, AT dodged and grabbed at the monster, the jaws of her lupine shadow warping the metal struts as if they were as real as her hands. The struts and bars of the rusty exoskeleton were slowly pulled apart, but the essence of the creature kept moving, unfazed, untouchable. Marley felt paralyzed, worried that attacking their nightmare would hurt the children, and terrified of the consequences of not stopping it. She took a deep breath and tried to focus.

  The twins weren’t safe. A monster powered by their own terror could hurt them.

  But it was focused on AT, slashing a steel pincer down—

  Marley screamed as something invisible impaled her shoulder. Her skin was on fire, her vision all black and red. Something else slashed across her back and she started weeping. She squeezed the panicking twins close to her as she slumped to her knees, gasping for breath. The pain had come from AT. Her protection was fraying, and channeling the damage it couldn't avert back to her. The creature was too strong, or she was too weak. She felt lightheaded, spread thin.

  “I’m so sorry,” came the anguished cry from AT, even as Corbin’s arms closed around Marley, supporting the three of them. “I’ve got to... it’s...” AT continued over the clatter a
nd clash of metal.

  Marley whimpered, pressing her head against Corbin’s arm. She could feel her power dissolving, and it hurt as much as the channeled injuries.

  AT spoke again, and this time Marley heard her clearly, as if the words were spoken over a headset. “I don’t want your shield anymore, Marley. There’s another way.”

  Marley's remaining protection over the teenager peeled away, and AT was unsafe. AT was going to be torn apart. Marley screamed again, in frustration and denial, and surged against Corbin’s now-restraining arm. He was saying something but she couldn’t understand him, didn’t care.

  AT shouted, “Father! Help me!”

  Marley froze and shuddered as Corbin’s arm slackened around her. “Oh no…” he muttered.

  For a long moment, the fight between the twins’ metal nightmare and AT continued, each slash and bruise on AT leading to the next as she slowed down. But every time it seemed to tire of her and turn back to the twins, she grabbed it, shrieking.

  Marley grabbed Corbin's arm. “Why oh no? Is something happening? Tell me what’s going on!” But Corbin only shook his head, whispering to himself every so often and moving one hand reflexively.

  Then a hole in the world yawned open and a masculine figure stepped through. With only the briefest pause to assess the scene, the figure stepped over to where Marley huddled against Corbin with the twins. He knelt down and put a hand on each of the panicking children’s faces. Marley stumbled at sudden vertigo as her sense of “safe” and “dangerous” pinwheeled around her. Then the twins, previously rigid and clutching with terror, slumped in her arms.

  The metal monster folded in on itself, tumbling into a pile as the blood shadow faded into ordinary silhouettes.

  Asleep. The twins were deeply asleep.

  Marley gathered them close. AT, crouched on the other side of the pile of metal, covered in her own blood, swayed, and then crumpled into a ball.

  As the figure stood up, Corbin stiffened behind her and Marley realized who it was: Severin the kaiju. “You’re her father?”

  Severin gave her only a glance. “Of course not. I heard her call, though, and I knew her father would appreciate the favor of stepping in on his behalf.” He stepped over to where AT lay and crouched down again, inspecting her injuries.

  “How badly is she hurt?” Marley demanded.

  “Nothing some fatherly care won’t fix.” He picked AT up in his arms and turned away. As he did, a slash in the world opened into a Backworld portal.

  “Wait! Where are you taking her?” Marley let the sleeping twins slide out of her arms and tried to scramble after Severin. He gave her an impassive look and then stepped through the gate. It blinked out behind him.

  “He’s taking her to her father,” said Corbin flatly.

  “No! She doesn’t—how can you just stand there?”

  “What am I supposed to do?” growled Corbin. “Do you think you can save everyone? She put herself back into her father’s power to save you. To save us.” He glared at her. Then he took a deep breath. “He’ll take good care of her until she’s healthy again. She’s safer with him now than anyplace else.”

  Marley shook her head slowly. “I don’t know if you’re right. I think...”

  Corbin took her shoulders and shook her lightly. “Then it’s a fate worse than death! But she chose it, do you understand, because she didn’t want us to die. She rejected you because she didn’t want you to die.” He blew out his breath, staring at her with his eyes slits. “Neither of you have any sense of self-preservation. You have no clue about getting out when you’re in over your heads.”

  “You’re still here, too,” she whispered.

  “That’s different,” he muttered. His hands tightened on her shoulders again, and she watched the play of expressions on his face. He was very close. A sudden warmth grew from the tangle of emotions roiling inside her—

  A warmth that turned to ice as Severin’s voice said, “His motives are as selfish as yours, sweetheart.”

  Corbin dragged his gaze away from her face, although his hands remained on her shoulders. “What are you doing back here?” His voice might have cut steel.

  Severin, no longer carrying AT, walked over to where the twins lay. Marley pulled away from Corbin and dashed to interpose herself between Severin and the children.

  Impatiently, he said, “I told you before that you’re always already there between them and the world. Are you actually going to stop me from waking them? Keeping them asleep would be even more dangerous.”

  “Won’t they wake up on their own?” Marley felt slow and confused, too conscious of the tension that stretched between Corbin and Severin and uncomfortably aware of how Corbin’s likelihood of getting hurt rose dramatically whenever Severin was present.

  “Yes. They will. Their power will burn away every barrier. And once the fire begins to rage, it's very hard for them to stop it, as you’ve already seen. Better that they don’t feel the need.” He quirked an eyebrow. “So I wake them before their power does. Get out of the way.”

  Her breathing ragged, Marley stepped aside.

  -thirty-

  Severin crouched before the girls and pressed one hand against each of their foreheads. Their breathing changed, and he stood up and stepped back, very quickly, before they could open their eyes.

  Kari sat up, blinking. “I had a bad dream.” She saw Severin and pulled back, pushing Lissa to wake her as well. Marley crouched beside them, making soothing noises. Lissa opened her eyes, looking directly at Severin.

  He glanced away, fixing his attention on Corbin. Corbin hadn’t stopped watching him since he appeared, his body taut and still. Marley was sure that in a moment, a fight would break out.

  Her heart in her throat, Marley scanned Corbin, looking for something, anything she could do to stop it. “Don’t,” said Corbin, and turned his body away. Severin’s mouth curved up. Corbin’s shoulders twitched and Marley was suddenly sure that Severin was talking to Corbin in his head, just as he’d once spoken to her.

  “Don’t listen to him,” she said, before she could think.

  Severin flicked his fingers at her dismissively and whispered: Run along.

  The girls twisted uneasily under her hands. “No more bad dreams...” muttered Kari. “I don’t like him.”

  There was an electronic trilling. At first she heard the sound as a buzzer: time’s up. All done. Submit your tests now. Then she jerked and fumbled for her phone. It was Branwyn. She answered it.

  “Not a good time,” she began.

  “It’s never a good time lately, is it?” said Branwyn. She sounded tired. “I haven’t been having a good time either. Penny is... difficult.”

  Stricken, Marley said, “Bran, I—I’m trying to help.”

  “Yeah? From wherever you are? There’s a trick. How?” But without waiting for an answer, she went on. “We need to talk about your new friends, Marley. I’ve been hearing things.”

  “Does it have to be now? Something really bad just happened to one of my friends, and I’m worried about another.”

  “Oh,” said Branwyn, and the tired anger in her voice was replaced by hesitance. In the background, a deep masculine voice said something, and there was a clunk as the phone changed hands. But the new voice on the phone made Marley stop breathing.

  “You were so right, Marley. Branwyn has much more of the action girl in her. She’s a bit too busy to help us right now, though. Won’t you come over and join us?” It was a voice from her dreams, the piping voice of Tinker Chime. And then the line went dead.

  * * *

  Oblivion buzzed in Marley’s ears for a long moment, as she stared at the phone in shock. The world was turning inside out. She wasn't asleep. Then Corbin’s hand closed on her shoulder.

  “Hey,” he said sharply. “What’s wrong?” She couldn’t answer. She couldn’t even find words.

  Severin, his voice a growl, said, “Tarn.”

  Marley’s legs collapsed underneath
her and Corbin lowered her to the roof. She tried to tell him she was fine. “I—I—” The children clutched her hands, and all she could think of was fairy dolls, suspended from ropes. How long?

  Severin appeared in her line of sight, crouching down again. He reached over Corbin to lift her chin. “I’ll be around, sweetheart. Hope you can keep it together, because if you can’t, if you falter, if you fail, you’re mine.” He winked. “Just a little motivation for you.”

  Corbin’s hands left her and there was the sound of a scuffle. But even though they were beyond her field of vision, she could still feel them close to her. She could feel Severin’s eyes on her, and she thought they’d always be there. Even in her dreams... And finally, oblivion overwhelmed her.

  She sat on her bed, Neath in her lap. As she stroked the kitten, it began to grow. “You knew,” she whispered. “You knew that he didn’t belong in here. Where did you come from, little cat?”

  The kitten, now the size of a wildcat, flicked her ears and purred in answer.

  The curtains were pulled closed, the door was locked, and there was nothing else in the room with them. And slowly, that absence began to frighten her. The fairy—the faerie—really was elsewhere.

  She opened her eyes. She was stretched out on a couch, in an empty lobby. The kids were still holding her hands, kneeling on the floor beside her.

  “Faeries,” she said. “I’ve been dreaming of a faerie since this started.” She looked beyond the kids to where Corbin was putting away his phone. “Where are we? I have to get to Branwyn. Can you take us through the Backworld?”

  “No, I can't. I’ve called a car. How are you? What happened up there?”

  “Using the demon’s enchantment while being chased by monsters is exhausting.” She tried for a wan smile. It was better than saying she’d fainted from shock.

  “I saw that one. And the other new enchantment. Celestial magic. Let me guess—you met Ettoriel, and then AT introduced you to Tia.”

  “Yes,” said Marley. The thought of AT made her want to cry. “Can you remove the curse?”