Woe for a Faerie

by Bokerah Brumley

  Woe stiffened, and she didn’t respond to my query.

  “Woe?”

  Still nothing. I jostled her, but she didn’t answer.

  When I waved my hand in front of her face, she didn’t respond, and my mouth dried. They’d found us.

  They’d found her. My heart stopped.

  “Woe,” I bellowed. “Snap out of it.”

  She didn’t react. She wasn’t there. She only stared at the woman on the helicopter. I hefted her over my shoulder. If they knew where I lived, my home wasn’t safe anymore. If they could use helicopters, we would move underground.

  The Atheneum. It was the only option until we caught the shifter.

  I drew on all the magic, repeated the transport spell, and wove a bridge between the space between my home and the church.

  I stepped through, dragged Woe behind me, and slammed the gate closed. Placing Woe on the pavement in front of the church, I peered into her eyes, willing her to be okay.

  Woe still didn’t respond. The woman siphoned energy from her, draining away her life.

  No trees carried magic in their sap anymore. It took old trees. Old relics. With enough museums nearby, there had to be something in the area.

  I reached out mentally, searching for something I could use to draw Woe back to me. At a distance, an echoed answered my call. In my mind’s eye, I saw a woman burning against a tree.

  Joan of Arc.

  The church doors. Incredulous and then jubilant. The church doors!

  I carried Woe to the top of the stairs. I leaned her against the heavy panels.

  If only I could recall the spell.

  Ishka. I poured every bit of desperation into my plea.

  Her answer came immediately. What is it, brother?

  It’s Woe. She’s hurt, and I need to draw magic from an ancient tree.

  Crann. Beo. Scair. Draíocht.

  Together, we repeated her words, over and over.

  Limbs reached out from the surface, wrapping her in their embrace and a green glow that grew brighter and brighter until I couldn’t bear to look anymore. Finally, the light from the ancient wood dimmed and the arms released my fallen angel.

  Woe fell forward, dropping to her knees with a groan, her head lulled to the side. I dropped to the sidewalk beside her. When her eyes finally fluttered open, I crushed her against me, burying my hands in her hair, pressing kisses along her jawline. My tears fell on her cheeks. I couldn’t lose her.

  “Arún? What happened?” Her voice came in breathy swells, as though she’d traveled from a long distance.

  “I almost lost you.” My throat swelled, choking out anything else I might say.

  A train whistle screamed, and I vowed that it would never happen again.

  Lifting her in my arms, I took a deep breath, inhaling her cinnamon scent. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”

  If such a moment ever came again, I would go in Woe’s place.

  44

  The Moment Approaches

  Jason

  I tossed and turned in my bed most of the night. Joe had given me a card with a number to call. We would set up a meeting in the park near where Arún had first found Woe. As the sun began its afternoon descent, we would meet in the Atheneum to go over the plan one last time.

  Lev and Vic would come along. Woe and Arún were due back any time. It would be our first adventure as a team. I planned to break the team name to them later.

  I finally gave up on sleep and headed to the roof to consider the stars, but the black brightened to blue and the stars disappeared. I did a few pull-ups on the bar and jogged in place until my heart raced in my eardrums. A decent way to begin the day.

  As the sun peeked over the buildings, I heard the squeak of the trapdoor that led out onto the roof.

  “Good morning,” came a gravelly voice.

  “Lev,” I said. “Didn’t know you came up here in the mornings.” Staccato words.

  “Oh, it’s a holdover from the war. Sunrises have a way of reminding me that life goes on. I watch them before a big battle.” He held up a glass full of his daily concoction. “Besides, Vic brought it earlier than normal. Said she would be busy prepping all day.” He took a gulp. “To be honest, I would rather have Absinthe this morning. I always like chasing a bit of green fairy.”

  I chuckled. Lev might have been around the longest, but Vic mothered us all whether any of us liked it or not.

  “The Librarian delivered his notes this morning,” Lev said. “It’s a good plan.” He took another drink.

  “Maybe not good enough,” I said. Overhead, the blue morphed to pink. Orange crept in from the side.

  He took a sip. “That’s always the way. At times, the best-laid plans still go wrong. Circumstances orchestrate a chaos that cannot be anticipated. But we must still try.” He cleared his throat.

  “True.” I settled into a chair that some rooftop gardener had left beside the raised beds. “Any news yet?”

  He shook his head. “My answer is the same as it has always been, but I keep hope.” He pointed at me. “I believe the more relevant question is: what will you do when this does not go according to your plan?”

  “That’s a dismal way to think.” I rubbed the back of my neck.

  “Jason, you have to decide now what you will do if we lose someone out there. Your fight is worthy of your unwavering commitment. The enemy should not prevail. We must win.”

  I didn’t answer. He might be right, but his words were hard to process. I didn’t plan to lose anyone. We would all come through fine. There was no other option.

  Lev took another sip. The sunrise burned bright red behind him, and that old mariners’ rhyme played in my head.

  Red sky at night, sailors' delight.

  Red sky at morning, sailors take warning.

  I tried to ignore the sense of foreboding that took root.

  It took all day to get through the day. But when I finally called, Joe had agreed. Almost too quickly. I wondered what they had up their sleeves, but Vic soon had me hip-deep in set-up, and the apprehension faded.

  Before I knew it, we arrived in the Atheneum and made it through the meeting. Everyone agreed to the plan. At the end, Arún cleared his throat, and Woe shifted in her seat.

  Scowling, I studied one and then the other. Neither met my gaze.

  “Oh, good grief,” Vic said. “What is it?”

  Arum pressed his lips into a line. “The peacock shifter attacked Woe while we were in my apartment.”

  I scratched my chin to hid my grimace. “Your apartment?”

  He waved to Woe. “We were able to get away, but I thought you would like to know.”

  My toes beat a staccato rhythm on the carpet. “You didn’t think it was important to begin with the information?”

  Woe cursed under her breath and stalked to the bookshelves.

  Arún crossed his arms. “I took care of it.” He pointed. “She is safe.”

  I stomped forward. “What if they’re upstairs now?”

  Arún leaned toward me. “I assumed you had special warning wards.” His mouth puckered. “You do not?”

  I pointed at my chest. “I don’t use magic.”

  “What of Lev? Or Vic’s gadgetry? None of them did this?” He peered at them, his eyes wide.

  They both shook their heads. “Nothing more than the usual. The Librarian always warns us about intruders.”

  The Librarian tugged his mustache. “There is no indication of unusual activity.”

  I glared at Arún, and he scowled at me.

  I could punch him in the nose. He deserved it. If I swung first, I might get the upper hand. Gritting my teeth, I took another step and made a fist. Arún’s nostrils flared.

  Lev stepped between us. He placed one hand on Arún’s chest and one mine then pushed us apart. “Now, boys. Let’s keep it civil.”

  Arún whirled around and joined Woe in the ancient reference section.

  I massaged my temples and took a deep brea
th. I had just one more bit of business.

  “I’ve decided on a team name,” I said.

  Five sets of eyes swung toward me.

  “Beg your pardon?” Vic was the first to speak.

  “We’re the ‘Keepers of New Haven’. The priest has always been the List Keeper, but it’s time we had a name. It’s getting harder and harder to hide our existence.”

  Lev paused. “Fitting,” he sputtered. He never made waves, except in the Pacific, and he hadn’t been back there in ages.

  “That’s what I’ve decided,” I said.

  “No other priest thought we needed a team name,” Vic said.

  “It’s for morale. And we’re keeping it.”

  She sighed. “Uniforms, too?”

  I shrugged. She was stepping on my moment. “It depends on how you behave.”

  Vic laughed at that and turned to Woe.

  Woe shrugged and Arún said, “Very well. I have never understood why humans must name every team, but if it is important to you, I will concede.”

  Vic grumbled loudly under her breath, but it was half-hearted. I think she secretly liked the idea.

  “If you have complaints, please place them in the suggestion box.” I pressed my lips together and Vic glanced around the room.

  Her eyes widened. “Where is the suggestion box?” she asked.

  I pointed to the trash can.

  45

  Heartbreak

  Woe

  I shivered. The air had cooled so quickly. This evening was different. My mind was still muddled from the close call on the church steps. I imagined myself being burned at the stake, and the horrendous sensations that went along with it.

  Arún shouldn’t have told Jason about it. Jason didn’t need another reason to dislike Arún. With the excess of egos and tempers, maybe I should have called the whole thing off.

  I’d been bound at the wrists and ankles to make the whole thing appear more convincing. Though, neither binding locked. I could pull out of them at any time. But I couldn’t rub my own arms for warmth unless I wanted to jeopardize the handover, so I crawled through my memories instead. Maybe they would keep me warm, and this part of the city park always brought so many back. So many changes. And I had changed so much since then. The earbud nestled against my eardrum so Joe and his henchmen couldn’t see it.

  Next to me, Jason checked his watch and held up his open hand. Five minutes until time. Arún flew overhead, and Lev watched from a copse of trees nearby. Vic had parked in an alley, holed up in a tech-filled van, managing communications and a myriad of sensors.

  A black car slowly rolled by. Its headlights swept over us. I couldn’t see into the car. The windows too dark to see into. That had to be him. Joe was a couple minutes early.

  Four car doors opened and closed. They wanted me, and Joe brought backup.

  The Boss wanted me as a breeder. I didn’t know what magic she expected me to have. Nobody had mentioned anything. But one thing held true: I made good bait.

  Jason moved from side to side and pinched the bridge of his nose. He could smell her. That was the sign. The shifter hadn’t exited the vehicle.

  I still couldn’t see inside, but Arún’s voice sounded low in my ear.

  “Got it,” he said over the transceiver. “When I let her loose, watch out.”

  Jason’s gaze met mine as Joe sauntered up to us, two other guys following behind him.

  “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” Joe said, grinning like he was the first one to have ever said those words as a joke. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. A stupid joke from an annoying guy.

  Jason’s lips pulled into a tight smile. “Joe.”

  Joe jerked his head toward me. “You brought her.” He tapped his index finger on his lips. “I didn’t think you would ever give her up.”

  Jason shrugged. “Maybe I’m tired. Tired of running the church, tired of always saving somebody.”

  Joe dipped his chin. “Makes sense.” He had been nodding along the whole time like a bobble head on a dashboard, like the yes-man he was. “Ready to do this?”

  Jason cleared his throat. “I have your word that your Boss will quit messing around in New Haven City?”

  Joe shrugged. “She says she’ll think about it, but she swears she won’t kill anymore little girls.” His grin was evil. “She doesn’t need us to kill them now that she’s snagged the shifter. She can siphon off all the malleable brain energy she needs.”

  Joe chuckled and jerked a thumb toward the car, the sound sliding across my skin like oil. He sounded so much like the freak who’d tried to slit my throat. I resisted the urge to check my neck.

  I didn’t say anything while Joe looked me over, but I rubbed my ear on my shoulder like I had an itch when he got close to the transceiver. My charade worked, he didn’t catch the earbud shoved into my ear canal.

  Jason tapped his foot on the ground. “Are you finished?”

  Joe held up two hands. “Everything looks in order.”

  I heard a car door. That would be Arún. The shifter better be in there. Arún had gotten a master key from the locksmith when we had gone home to meet his family.

  “Target acquired,” Arún whispered.

  Jason checked his watch again. Another signal. I glanced over my shoulder.

  An ear-splitting screech came from inside the car. The top burst open like a metal flower and a white figure shot straight up.

  Joe dropped to the ground. “What have you done?” he howled.

  Jason crouched and ran toward the car. I pulled my hands and feet free to run toward the copse where Lev was, but I couldn’t turn away from the drama unfolding before me.

  There was the sound of flapping overhead and I dropped to the ground as a bright figure swooped down above me. Twice as big as any peacock I had ever seen, she spun in the air like an acrobat. But instead of coming back around, the shifter made a hard left and aimed for Joe.

  He squealed and pleaded. He knew that she intended to exact justice. From my position, low to the ground, I watched as she landed on him, knocked him to his back, and changed from an albino peacock to a curvy woman. Her irises changed from brown to bright blue, and she pressed Joe against herself. Her movements were mesmerizing.

  She pressed her forehead to Joe’s and his fedora fell from the crown of his head. “You will be delicious,” she screamed, her voice a mixture of peacock call and womanly confidence.

  A brilliant flash.

  Then it dissipated as quickly as it had come and Joe’s head fell to the side. When she looked up, her gaze locked with mine and everything else in the park faded away.

  A white peacock flew toward me, shimmering and swaying in vanilla-scented air. In the distance, someone was yelling my name, but the bird in flight held me in awe, transfixed by the incredible sight.

  She landed on top of me and I could only watch as though from a faraway place, even if my body was right there. I fell backwards.

  From the side, a figure launched into the shifter who was morphing over me. There was a shrill scream and a low grunt as the two tumbled end-over-end away from me.

  Dazed, I sat up.

  Where had Arún gone? A grunt drew my attention. When I looked, my blood ran cold. A bright white light flashed around them.

  “Noooooo,” I shrieked. I threw myself at Arún, into the death light, where he lay beneath the peacock shifter. I knocked her off of him and took her place.

  I stroked his cheek, but there was no response. Tears poured from my eyes and bathed his face.

  “Arún, Arún, Arún,” I repeated over and over again.

  Running feet. Shouts. Crying.

  “Why did she eat him?” Jason bellowed. “She shouldn’t have still been hungry.”

  Lev dropped beside me.

  Vic yelled in my earpiece. She was on her way. She would get him fixed up.

  But Arún had not responded.

  I couldn’t tell how far the shifter had gotten with Arún. Another avian
scream sliced through the moment as she sucked the two other henchmen dry. A mighty flapping of wings followed and then the park turned as peaceful as a graveyard.

  Except for my weeping and the gentle breeze that stirred the air.

  Arún groaned and shifted beneath me.

  My heart thrilled. My head shot up. A smile broke through the wave of sorrow, stretching so far my cheeks hurt. “I thought you were dead.”

  He’s okay. He’s okay. The words repeated on a loop.

  He offered a sad smile. “My brain is in pieces, Woe. I can feel everything seeping away as surely as if she had cracked my skull like an egg.”

  And then he gagged and retched. And passed out again.

  Tears began afresh. Lev and Jason stood over us. Vic was running up with a little wagon in tow, wires and cords trailing on the ground behind.

  She dove to the ground beside us, stuck sensors to Arún’s temples, took readings, and scowled at the information. And then she pulled the sensors away, already shaking her head like doctors did when they delivered bad news in the hall. She dashed the tears from her cheeks. “No, no, no,” she whispered.

  That couldn’t be good. She could fix anything. I laid my hand on her frantically moving forearm. I needed the answer to only one question. She shook her head and her breath caught in a sob.

  “Go.” I sent her away.

  And she went. And so did Lev. Jason lingered the longest.

  But, finally, he disappeared, too. I wanted Arún’s last moments to myself.

  I held him for an hour. He woke every few minutes, a mishmash of words pouring from his mouth, less and less coherent. My heart thrilled, ecstatic each time he regained consciousness and then my hope was dashed each time he passed out.

  The final time, Arún moved his hand down my arm, tracing designs like he used to do. He crushed me to him and I squeezed him to me. His love saved me. Again and and again.

  I couldn’t lose him. I couldn’t survive without him.

  “Thank you for choosing me,” he whispered, dragging his fingertips across the wetness on my cheek.