Ha!Ha!Ha!

by Steve Beaulieu

  Chapter 2

  The Winter Witch

  Helga hurried along the frozen forest path, feet barely touching the soft carpet of needles and leaves. Today is the day! she thought. It was a gorgeous day—for late fall—the sky a brilliant blue and the sun warming the air from its zenith. The forest faded, opening up into a fertile meadow, knee deep with ripe grass. In the meadow was a unicorn. The pale creature glittered in the sunlight, lifting its beautiful head from the lush crush beneath its feet. It chewed slowly, watching the approach of the eldest of the demi-gods. She ran up to the unicorn and careful of its sensitive horn, she wrapped her arms around it and gave it a hug.

  The unicorn rubbed her face on Helga’s, her soft muzzle nibbling at her cheek. Helga laughed and patted it on the cheek, then reached into her pocket and pulled out a knife. The blade flashed in the sunlight, as she stabbed the thin blade into the eye of the unicorn, shoving it through to its brain. The unicorn screamed and stumbled, falling to its knees. Blood surged from the ruined socket, dripping onto its pristine coat. It fell onto its side, dainty hoofs spasming in the tall grass, kicking with the throes of death.

  Helga knelt beside the dying creature of myth, running her hand over its body, feeling for its spirit, for the soul that hovered just beyond its life force, a conscience now unbound from the mortal world. She placed her hands on its head and encased the unicorn’s essence in a spell of her own design, gathering the strands of the pulsing force, collecting the soul of the creature. With a tug, she separated its essence and watched as the unicorn’s orbs dulled, as life left the beast’s body.

  Helga’s excited eyes darted around the clearing. Nothing moved. She was unobserved. A slow smile spread across her youthful features. It was an ugly spreading of lips, more feral than human. Now I will know the truth of the souls left in my siblings’ care, she thought. I will not be denied what is mine! She straightened, placing the pulsing soul in the carrier she had brought just for this occasion. Without a backward glance, she left the clearing. Darkness followed in her wake, a darkness borne of the underworld, the darkness of one condemned.

  She hurried back into her stony fortress, hidden within the Highland Needle, the mountain range that was known as the spine of the world. Snow-capped mountains were disrupted by active volcanoes, the smoke curling far above the verdant lands below.

  A cricket chirped in the low vegetation that hugged the path leading to the entrance to her domain. Helga passed the insect, which fell silent, then entered the disguised opening to her lair. It was shielded from view by the mist of a waterfall. The realm of the underworld had been gifted to her by her father, Morpheus, but she had chosen the location for its entrance. Its proximity to the Thunder Falls of the bear clans was not by accident. Many a soul was given to the falls during their final hours. Some escaped to her brother Caerwyn’s care, but others she had been able to snatch away from their intended destination. They would not join those souls awaiting rebirth to the living world.

  Morpheus had placed her in charge of the condemned, alone. At first, she had been content to care for those souls who had no possibility of rebirth. She had enjoyed their torment, inventing new and twisted ways to punish their perverted minds, for the evil they had performed in life. Their souls were hers to do with as she pleased.

  But Helga had grown bored with those confined to her realm. Occasionally a new soul arrived, but the long stretches in between were boring and uneventful. She craved excitement, suspense, and the obsequious obedience that comes from total subjugation of an unwilling soul.

  She wound her way down to the caverns that lined the lowest level, to check on her pets. The unicorn’s soul quivered within its magical confinement. Helga laughed, knowing its thoughts. The death of a magical creature was forever. There was no rebirth possible, being that their souls fed the magical energy of the world. They were the rebirth of their mortal counterpart, in this case, a horse. Harvesting a mythical soul was needed for her experiment though, and she had planned for this moment. Helga had no regrets.

  I have not come all this way, pushing at the very boundaries of life, to fail now. You will live on, my little unicorn, but as a new reality. You will serve me for all time. I am your mistress forever more. The cage vibrated, shaking in her hand with an inaudible rattle as the soul within it became agitated. It wasn’t just her words that scared the soul, it was their location, for they had left the staircase to enter a broad cavern of sheer rock. Lights sprang into being as she passed, the torches fed from the lava stream that was visible in the cracked rock beneath their feet.

  Helga crossed over to the opposite side of the chamber where cages had been built, some wooden, some stone, some made of magic. Inside the cages an assortment of failed experiments laid, some dead, some barely alive. Helga paused by one cage and peered in at its occupant. An albino tiger lay on its side, great fangs curling past its black lips. The tiger’s chest rose and fell, shallow and uneven, its breath coming in ragged gasps as it struggled to breathe. Its eyes were open, the orbs glassy and white, staring blindly and unseeing at the bars.

  “Look, little unicorn. The sabretooth is not long for this world. Some would say it’s already dead, as it is in the underworld. Yet it struggles to survive, even though doomed to a shadowed existence in the world of the condemned.” The sphere trembled. “Oh, do not worry, my pet. Your soul has been freed. The sabretooth, it will become a wraith. There is no other journey possible, now. It will pass into the darkness and become one of my hunters, stalking the living on my command.” The sphere wailed. “I have need of many more souls, more souls than you have ever seen in one place.” Helga’s smile was a thin-lipped smear on her beautiful yet cruel face. “You are but the first of many.” She hung the sphere above the sabretooth’s body and laughing, walked away.

  Chapter 3

  Family Tea

  Helga left the unicorn sphere hanging above the dying sabretooth, with a final pat on the magical carrier. “Take care of him, my pet. I will return shortly with some companions for you.” As she walked away, the soul of the unicorn quieted. She frowned. Perhaps the unicorn is not the best choice. Its heart is too soft, too docile, she mused. The natural predatory instincts of the sabretooth are better suited to the creation of an aggressive minion, but the failure with the sabretooth has proven that the more feral the mythical creature, the less suitable as a building material they became. Their natures carry forward.

  Helga pondered the problem as she climbed back out of the depths of the earth. What I need is a creature that is in between the two, in temperament and endurance. She sought a creature with resilience but also unwavering loyalty; strength of being and presence of mind, yet loyal above all others.

  She reached the cave opening and walked to the edge of the falls where a stone staircase zigzagged across the jagged face of the cliff. She climbed to the top where a flat slab of grey granite, smoothed by eons of flowing water, rolled away on either side of the stream that fed the falls. Helga placed her fingers to her lips and whistled. Silvershadow appeared out of the clouds, landing on the opposite side and galloping through the fast flowing waters, splashing noisily as she approached. She threw back her head and shook her liquid mane, diamonds dancing on the fine silk. Helga smiled a genuine smile.

  “Hey there, Silver. How is my girl?” The pegasus trotted up to her, ruffling her wings before relaxing them at her sides, then nudged Helga with her nose, nostrils flared. She sniffed then snorted and backed away, wings flapping. She neighed and eyed Helga, wary of her intent.

  “Hush, it’s okay. The unicorn was dying. I just sped up the process. You could say I was merciful. She died a quick death, and I will care for her soul.” Silver shook her head and pawed the ground, anger in every curve, in every strike on the hard rock. “I know you don’t agree. But it is done. Now I need to go visit Alfreda. Can you find her?”

  Silvershadow fixed a baleful golden eye on Helga and then snorted.

  Helga gave the pegasus a mocking c
urtsy then said: “Why thank you, for consenting to my request.”

  She pulled herself up onto the pegasus’s back then tucked her knees under the wing joins and wrapped her hands in her soft mane. She urged Silvershadow into the sky. True to her name, she faded into the clouds as she flew toward the land of the Primordials, where Alfreda ruled as high priestess. The primordial temple poked above the clouds, the tip of the pyramid a clear beacon at the height that they now flew. Helga disliked prying eyes, preferring to keep her location unknown. But her sister had something she needed badly.

  As they approached the temple, the golden rod on its peak flashed with a brilliant light, and a concussion of energy cascaded down to touch the runes etched into every facet of the temple’s surface. It lit up, a pale blue light dancing down its surface. The temple awoke, alerting those below to Helga’s presence, as was her due as a goddess. Silvershadow sunk below the puffy clouds, emptying into the blue-tinted night sky, to land in a clearing in front of the temple. It was ringed with primordial servants and protectors, gathered five deep. The warriors among the crowd carried spears and were girded in leather jerkins and segmented bone helmets. Their faces, framed by long straight hair, were lavishly decorated with fierce red symbols, runes of protection and agility and bravery. Helga took them in at a glance then ignored them as they sank to one knee and bowed their heads. They were beneath her notice. She slid from Silvershadow’s back and approached the temple.

  At the foot of the stairs, Helga paused as the door at the top opened and her sister, Alfreda stepped out onto the low balcony that ran around all four sides of the pyramid. Where Helga was tall, Alfreda barely reached her shoulder in height. But what she lacked in height, she made up for in sheer presence. She was as fierce as a vampire spider tackling prey a hundred times its size. Alfreda’s eyes narrowed as she spied her sibling and the assembled Primordial warriors.

  “Be at peace, my people. It is a familial visit. Go about your duties.” The crowd dispersed but her warriors did not, rather taking up positions around the base of the temple. What they thought they could do, to protect her from another demi-god, was beyond her understanding but she knew from long association that they would strive to protect her anyway. Alfreda’s gaze focused on her sister. “Welcome, Helga. Will you join me for tea?”

  Helga’s lips twitched, amused at the scurrying ants that made up Alfreda’s protection. “Of course, dear sister.” Helga walked up the steps and Alfreda led her inside the temple, pulling the thick mahogany doors closed behind them. “Come, I had just prepared a pot.” Alfreda led Helga to a plush settee of animal skin, dyed blue. It was flanked by bone-white tables, carved with more runes and images and so delicately fashioned, it was opaque. A matching low table sat on a simple reed rug in front of the couch. All three tables appeared to be fragile but were made of Mammoth tusk, the strongest substance known to exist in the natural world. Two wing chairs faced the settee.

  A rose teapot sat on a golden tray on the low table, adorned with a fragrant hibiscus honey and creamy goat’s milk. Alfreda crossed over to a tall narrow cupboard and retrieved two teacups. “Sit where you like and be comfortable.” Helga took a wing chair and sat, watching her sister’s preparations as she placed the cups and a loaf of sliced fruitcake on the table. Alfreda poured tea into the two cups. “Honey? Milk?”

  “No, thank you.” Alfreda handed her the cup then poured her own and added a good measure of honey to her own. She took the other wing chair and sat back to sip the fragrant blueberry blend. “What brings you to Faylea today, sister? Your visits are rare, as of late.”

  Helga sipped her tea, then placed the cup back on its saucer. “I hear that father left Cathair, today, that he is finally returning to the gods.”

  Alfreda nodded. “Yes, last I spoke to him, he was preparing a place for mother to go into seclusion, as the gods are displeased with her and he fears for her life. He is going to hide her away, I think. Being mortal, he only needs hide her for so long, in any event.”

  “So Cathair has been left to Caerwyn? He is to reside in the castle?”

  “Yes,” Alfreda frowned, “but you know this already, Helga. Caerwyn is to take care of the human souls of that land. Why do you ask this?”

  Helga ignored her question. “And what of Artio? Surely she is not content to play with the stars? And the moons? For the love of the gods, surely she has more ambition than that?”

  Alfreda’s back stiffened. “Why do you care what the others are doing, Helga? You have been assigned your duties. You have been given dominion over the most dangerous of souls, to control the evil they represent. It is a great honor given by our father, to you. While the souls of mortals pass through our hands, you are responsible for the eternal management of the condemned, those twisted souls who cannot be redeemed. It is something you should be proud of.”

  Helga picked up her cup and took another sip before replying. “I am the only one who could do it. The rest of you are too weak, too attached to the mortals in your care. And Artio always has her head in the stars. She doesn’t notice the mortal scurryings at her feet.”

  Silence descended for a moment, while Alfreda waited out Helga’s pause in the conversation. “What do you want, Helga? Why did you come here?” she said, in a flat voice. Helga glared at Alfreda and she thought for a moment, that the flame of the underworld flashed in the ebony depths of her eyes.

  A mask fell over Helga’s face as she stared into her sister’s cool eyes. “What I want is what should have been mine, from the beginning. I want a share of the souls of the living too. I want access to those souls that you and Caerwyn have entrusted to your care. I want to be able to work with souls that can be reborn, not just with those who are condemned and imprisoned in the underworld. Surely you see the appeal? Is it not natural for a god to wish to create?”

  “Create? That is the question, surely! What is it that you wish to create, Helga? Come now, there is no way that you are interested in nurturing fragile psyches. You detest them. How about you try a direct request for once?”

  Helga’s face darkened. “What I wish to do with my creation is my business alone. What I wish to ask is for you to donate some souls of the animal kingdom to my care. I promise, they will never perish, but live on forever within my realm.”

  Alfreda snorted. “Is that supposed to be reassuring? You always had a hard time playing nice. I can only imagine what you do to the poor souls left in your care.”

  “They are dead. It is not care they need, but purpose.” Helga smiled, her lips a thin stretching of skin.

  Alfreda lifted a brow, scornful. “You always felt that as eldest, you should have first pick of everything. As if the order of our birth was the pecking order for intelligence. You are proud, angry and crass. I would not entrust something as delicate as an animal’s soul to you. It is not like a human’s. The souls of beasts and birds are fragile things. That is why so few mythical creatures are in existence.”

  Helga stood, crossing her arms. “Then you refuse my request?”

  Alfreda put her tea down and stood. She came just to Helga’s shoulder in height. “Yes, of course, I refuse, as would Caerwyn.”

  “Always, you two side together. You are twins, not one soul,” she sneered. “You can make a decision independent of him.”

  “This is my decision. The answer is no.” Alfreda did not flinch as her sister’s face darkened with anger. Helga’s eyes slid into slits of fury.

  “Then there is nothing left for us to discuss.” Helga turned and marched toward the double doors of the temple. She paused, head turning to gather Alfreda into her murderous stare. “Do not seek me out. Never enter my domain or my realm. Do so, and you will die, sister.” Helga wrenched open the door and disappeared over the threshold. By the time Alfreda reached the opening, Helga was climbing onto the back of Silvershadow. She threw a murderous glare to the warriors, who stepped back under the ferocity of the gaze. Eyes wild, Helga threw back her head and screamed, her temper flashin
g white hot. A shock wave of fury burst from her and the nearest warriors flew through the air to crumple on the ground twenty feet away, in all directions. Helga spared one last, vengeful leer in Alfreda’s direction and then they jumped into the air. The clouds roiled as the furious demi-god was swallowed into their grey depths.

  Chapter 4

  Loyalty And Loss

  Helga clung to the back of Silvershadow, struggling to dampen her ire, and sort her chaotic thoughts. Fury melted her bones until all she wanted, desired, was to strike out at something and make it suffer until it screamed for death. It was the only thing that brought any relief to her pent-up anger. What she really wanted to do is strike out at her siblings. The three other children of Morpheus were the bane of her existence and stood between her and ultimate rulership of the world, a world that rightfully belonged to her as the first born demi-god.

  How dare they stand in my way? How dare they claim any portion of my inheritance, my birthright? If I could, I would wipe them all off the face of the planet. With no competition, my control would be complete. The puny mortals would have no hope other than to bow to me and worship me as the supreme goddess. With the fate of their souls under her command, there would be no more rebellion, no more interference.

  Helga gazed at the land flashing beneath her feet, head swiveling to take in the lush tropical forests of the Primordials to the peaks of the Highland Spine and then to the slopes and hillocks as they flattened into the plain of the river and the ford that separated the land of the Primordials from that of the Kingdom of Cathair. Far in the distance she could see the shimmer of the sea. All of this, it belonged to her. It was her kingdom, her birthright!