by Plum Pascal
Lamia and her daughters were supposed to be the last of their kind. So how is it possible…
I can’t even begin to comprehend the answer to that question now.
I look at Eilish and immediately regret it. I crave her just as much now as I did before I learned the ugly truth.
There will never be a moment when I don’t want her.
I force my brain away from the thought.
“He was a good man. He deserves a burial,” I announce, deciding Thoradin is the safest direction for our conversation.
“He does,” she agrees. “But we can’t go back. Anona and Dravon are still after us. Anona won’t fall for our tricks twice.”
“If I see her again, I’ll kill her.”
She moves closer, until our arms touch. I shift away from her as though she’s burned me, and she glances up at me, frowning slightly.
When she speaks again, her voice is tentative, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Yes.”
“If Flumph hadn’t told you I had my wings, would you have saved me from Anona?”
In this moment, she seems smaller than ever. Staring up at me with her large, questioning eyes, she looks so vulnerable, it makes my chest lurch. I want to kiss her again, to tell her how I truly feel about her. I want to feel her body beneath mine, to show her that I would kill anyone who even attempted to hurt her.
Instead, I answer her question, “I don’t know.”
“That’s what I thought.” She looks away and I can feel her disappointment in my response. “And if you thought I was a crossbreed—”
“I would have left you there,” I answer immediately and though my words are cold, they’re honest.
She nods slowly, her eyes downcast. I see the tears forming again, adding a sheen to her beautiful eyes.
Fuck me, but I want to extend a hand to lift her chin and look deep into the blue of her irises. My gaze drifts down to her lips, so full and beautiful.
She still needs you, I tell myself.
“Eilish,” I start but she moves back, away from my touch. She reminds me of a frightened doe.
“Cambion is almost finished with the Transmutation Stone,” she says in explanation. She’s upset. I can read the truth in her expression. “It’s time we get back.”
She rises and wipes at the dirt clinging to the back of her cloak. As she does, it highlights the perfect outline of her body, and my longing grows deeper. It’s fucking agony not to touch her—not to slip my hand beneath the fabric of her dress and find the protruding nipple of her breast. Not to move my hand along the smooth midline of her stomach, not to feel her wetness, or taste her mouth as I enter her, plunging again and again into her glorious body.
She lingers for a moment, but then turns and walks back toward Cambion and the others.
I follow her.
When we reach them, morning is creeping into the valley. The sky is a light blue and the air is chilled. More birds have joined the initial morning chorus, and their pleasant sounds surround us. Cambion is crouched on the forest floor, the back of his silken robe facing us. It’s now ripped and covered in mud, which is just as well.
Before, he looked like a fucking sugar confection.
In front of him, I see the sparks of embers as he works on the stone.
Revenant is propped against a tree. He’s organizing his bag of poisons, placing vials in individual sleeves lining the interior of the purse. Beside him, the sprite snores at a surprising volume for such a small creature.
Revenant’s face is pale and waxen. Looking at the lightness spreading in the sky, I know he’ll soon need to seek shelter.
“Was that true, what you said?” Eilish asks him. “About the Crawler Mucus being lethal when inhaled?”
Revenant removes a vial of yellowish liquid from its sleeve and looks it over carefully before handing it to Eilish. She takes it from him and holds it up the sky. With the morning’s rays backlighting it, the color appears almost amber, rather than the shade of pus yellow I’d seen before.
“It was a lie,” he admits.
“A lie?” Eilish repeats.
He doesn’t look up from his poisons. “Crawler Mucus is very rare. Most people don’t know what it is, making it an easy lie.”
“What does it do?”
He shrugs. “If it comes into contact with you, you become paralyzed, but only for a moment. Inhaling it had no effect on Anona.”
Eilish nods before passing the poison back to him. “That’s a shame. I was hoping it would kill her.”
“She’s been poisoned all the same,” replies Revenant, sliding the toxin back into its appropriate sleeve.
“How?” Eilish asks.
“If you recall, some of the vials fell to the ground in the scuffle?”
“Yes.” She nods.
“Truth Serum shattered and landed on Anona’s foot,” Revenant continues. “In small doses, the serum forces its victim to speak the truth. In large doses, however, it can cause major hallucinations, memory loss, and in severe cases, insanity. Judging by the amount that spilled on Anona, I believe we’re looking at a severe case.”
Eilish smiles at him and my stomach drops. I think I see a glimpse of the darkness within her, and I swallow hard.
“Good,” she says before her expression changes, as though she’s considering another subject. “Why didn’t you try using the Truth Serum on me? To restore my memories?” she asks. “Or on yourself?”
Revenant shakes his head. “The Truth Serum would only have allowed either of us to tell the truth from our conscious minds. It lacks the ability to delve into the subconscious, where our true memories dwell.”
“And the Transmutation Stone can do that?” Eilish asks.
Cambion glances over at her and nods. Eilish returns her gaze to Revenant and he looks back at her. Neither of them say anything and the silence between them makes me uncomfortable.
I clear my throat. “Anona and Dravon are still a threat,” I say. “We can’t know for sure how the serum will affect her. We shouldn’t stay here long,” I finish, finding myself disliking this easy and candid association that seems to be forming between the two of them. It wasn’t just my imagination—Revenant has definitely softened towards Eilish upon learning of her dark side. I’m not sure why.
Regardless, I want him gone.
“I agree. We shouldn’t stay here long,” Revenant responds as he looks at me. He places the straps of his satchel over his head and stands. “Let’s just hope this stone gives us the answers we seek.”
I look to Eilish. Her eyes are averted, and she seems pensive. She approaches Cambion. Revenant looks pointedly at my hand and then at me. I forget my palm is stained with blood. No doubt, he scented it. He raises his eyebrow in question, but I angrily turn away from him and follow Eilish to where she’s watching Cambion.
I catch her scent on the breeze and my cock instantly hardens.
What the fuck?
I don’t understand what is going on with me. Is her Succubus call so strong that I can’t control myself? It must be. Either way, it bothers me, because it takes me back to a time I’d sorely attempted to forget.
I follow her gaze to Cambion, who’s kneeling on the hard floor of the forest. In his hands is a stone about the size of an egg. It’s golden, with flecks of purple and brown. The stone appears to be floating between his palms as he works the yellow embers over every surface.
His face is devoid of expression, and the whites of his eyes show. The embers continue to dance on the surface of the stone and his hands are an unyielding blur, revolving around the thing, turning it in the air.
Revenant comes to join our viewing party and the sprite lands gently on Eilish’s shoulder. It’s strange he doesn’t detect the darkness within her. But I suppose I didn’t, either. Until I saw proof of it for myself.
We stand like this for some time, until, without warning, Cambion’s pupils return and he blinks a few times. When he’s finished, he looks up at us, the
stone resting in his hands. It’s glowing slightly, a gently radiating golden yellow. He holds it gingerly, eyeing his handiwork.
“It’s finished,” he proclaims. He sounds exhausted.
The air around us tenses as we all realize what this means. If the stone can unlock whatever is hidden away inside Eilish’s and Revenant’s minds, maybe it will provide the final information we need to defeat Variant once and for all.
But, if it doesn’t work…
If it leaves us with the same questions we’ve had since the beginning, the entirety of our journey will seem pointless—our battle with the manticore, our capture, Thoradin’s death... all of it. It will be for nothing if we can’t settle on a plan to eliminate Variant.
Maybe it’s already all for nothing, I think to myself as I look at Eilish.
I bring my attention back to the stone. No one moves to touch it. At this moment, it still represents hope. Our futures hang in the balance, and no one is willing to accept the certainty of a destiny decided.
Finally, Revenant extends his hand, and Cambion drops the stone into his palm. As he does, Revenant’s eyes roll back into his head, and his body freezes. He’s rigid before us, the stone glowing in his palm.
SEVEN
Flumph
Mortal Realm
When the stone hits the vamp’s hand, his eyes roll back in his head like he possessed by a demon. But I knows he ain’t. I knows it’s the stone doin’ it to him.
“What’s he see?” I ask the group.
They all jist standin’ ‘round, watchin’ him like he the most interestin’ man in the three realms. I guess, maybe, right now, he is.
“How the fuck should we know?” asks Cambion, real rude-like.
“Okay, fuck me fer existin’!” I shout, offended that everyone’s still bein’ snippy even though I be a hero an’ all.
I look over at Baron again and he don’t look so good.
“What’s happenin’ to him?” I asks.
“We don’t fucking know!” Cambion respond, even ruder-like.
Dick.
I grunt and lean over to whisper in Eilish’s ear. “How long’s Baron gonna be like that for?” There’s only so long I wanna stare at a sick-lookin’ vampire havin’ visions.
“I don’t know, Flumph,” she say, an’ then she shrug me off her shoulder. I’m about ta get offended but when I looks at her face, I realize she ain’t bein’mean, jist worried. Her expression show she all kindsa anxious.
If this transmuter rock work for the vampire, then that mean it probly gonna work on her memories, too. If it fail, though, then maybe it fail for her, too. An’ without her memories, we can’t hope to go up ‘gainst Variant. We dunno what she know or what kinda power she got in her—or how much o’ that power she got.
I turns my attention back to the vampire. His skin’s even worse lookin’ than before. Sun is shinin’ in from beneath the trees an’ where it touch his skin, the flesh turn gray an’ sickly lookin’. I’m ‘bout to say somethin’, but don’t wanna get shushed agin.
Finally, though, I can’t keep my mouth shut. “Shouldn’t we be gettin’ him outta the light?”
For once, I ain’t met with a chorus of assholish comments. ‘Stead, King Shadow Taint look up at the sky an’ frown.
“Flumph is right,” he say an’ it be the first time I liked somethin’ that came outta his mouth. Usually, he jist be a right twat.
Eilish lift her hand to place it on the shoulder o’ the vamp like she gonna wake him up. The elf sees her an’ shouts somethin’, but he be too late. Her eyes roll back in her head, jist like what happened to the vamp! Her expression go nearly blank, and her free arm hangs limp at her side.
Dragan starts freakin’ the fuck out.
“What’s happening to her!” he shout. He’s lookin’ at Cambion like it be his fault she gone an’ touched the hallucinatin’ bat.
“I don’t know!” says Cambion, “but don’t touch her.” After a moment he adds, “We still need to get Baron out of the light.”
But no one move to touch him, ‘cause no one want their own eyes goin’ all demon white.
“What do we do?” Dragan asks.
“Get his bag,” orders Elf Boy, never takin’ his eyes off the white-eyed pair.
“This isn’t the time for poisons; we need to wake them!” yells Dragan.
I’m sensin’ the start to another fight ‘tween these turd-for-brains. An’ we ain’t got time for none o’ that.
“I’m well aware, Dragan,” Cambion say, like he the king o’ the world. He got him a real self-importance problem. “I watched Baron take something when we first crossed over into the Mortal Realm. It allowed him to stay in the daylight without being burned.”
“What are you talking about?” ask Dragan, an’ he eye the elf real suspicious-like. ‘Course, Dragan do that with everyone so maybe it ain’t a big deal.
“Didn’t you notice it was daytime when we left Grimreap?” Cambion demand of Shadow Fuck. “When was the last time you saw a vampire out in the daylight?” He look real flustered, like he ain’t got time ta talk to Dragan. He start scannin’ the ground, lookin’ for the bag of poisons.
I see the satchel still propped ‘gainst a tree an’ fly to git it. Cambion nod his head in thanks when I make my ways back to him. He take the bag an’ open it. Then he start readin’ the poisons an’ potions out loud.
“Blue Dragan Juice, Assassin’s Blood, Draught of the Living Death, Wyvern Poison, Unlabeled, Unlabeled, Unlabeled… fuck!” He toss the bag to the side an’ exhale real loud. Then he scratch his head, like he real upset or like he gotta take a shit.
“What’s Draught of the Living Death?” ask Dragan.
Cambion got his real handsome head in his hands. He don’t look up when the gargoyle talk to him, but he respond all the same. “I don’t know. But it’s too risky to give him something if we aren’t sure what it does.”
“Look at him!” Dragan say.
“We need to move him,” Cambion agree. “He can’t stay out here like this!”
King Shadow Dick nods. “But if we touch either one of them…”
“If we touch them, we’ll fall victim to the same thing that’s happening to Eilish now,” Cambion argue. “It’s too risky.”
“If we can’t get Revenant out of the daylight, the least we can do is get the daylight off him,” the oversized gargoyle say.
Both Baron an’ Eilish still got their eyes completely rolled back in their skulls. Part o’ me wants to touch them, to reach out an’ see what they’re seein’. But I ain’t dumb. So ‘stead, I make myself busy findin’ somethin’ to shade the sun off the vampire.
“Dragan, take off your cloak,” instruct Cambion.
“Why?”
“Because we need to block the sun from B... Stop asking me fucking questions for once and just do what the fuck I’m telling you to!” Cambion yell.
That ain’t gonna go over well.
“You don’t tell me what the fuck to do, faerie,” King Demon Prince respond, an’ he eye King Pretty Face real pissed-off-like.
Just when I think it’s gonna be another version o’ the Great War, Dragan strip hisself down to nothin’ but his pants. He hand the cloak to Cambion, who produces those yellow fire bits ‘fore sendin’ the fabric up into the sky. Then, the cloak start to come down over the vamp and the angel, castin’ them in shade.
That be good, I guess.
Still, lookin’ up at their eyeballs that ain’t showin’ nothin’ but white, I still feel scared for what they’re seein’ together. Maybe Cambion made the stone wrong? Maybe both the angel an’ the creepy vamp be stuck like that… forever?
Shit, I hopes not ‘cause Pretty ain’t gonna be so pretty no more with her eyes all rolled up.
###
Eilish
Mortal Realm
At first, all I see is black.
Soon the blackness begins to clear.
But I can’t make sense of the scene before me.<
br />
I’m once again in the castle in the sky, but this time the scene is different. The art on the ceiling isn’t the same as I remember it. Instead of powerful images of the King of Angels, Variant, the ceiling is divided into four segments. Each segment depicts one of the four kings: Baron, Dragan, Variant, and Cambion. Two kings of dark. Two kings of light.
Bringing my attention from the ceiling to my surroundings, I take in a large room filled with all races: demons, gargoyles, angels (male and female), dwarfs, halflings. They’re dressed in bright colors and sheathed in fine jewelry and fabrics.
At the far end of the room is a wide set of stairs. At the top of the stairs, where once I’d seen Variant’s ice throne, now stand four impressive chairs. One made of stone, one made of ice, one made of wood and ivy, and one, black as night, seemingly formed from dark glass or mica. In front of each throne stands its respective king. My breath catches to see them. Each so terribly handsome in his own way and together, the power that reverberates off them is truly spectacular.
Baron, Dragan, and Cambion appear the same as I now know them, and yet, there’s a quality they possess here that makes them appear even more powerful, terrifying, and beautiful. And Variant is just as stunningly handsome as his comrades.
The four kings stand straight and proud. Their robes, of differing colors, styles, and fabrics, are tailored and regal. Their faces are locked in expressions of pride. Due to their immortality, they’ve never aged, and yet their youthfulness in this moment surprises me. Their eyes dance, the corners of their mouths tip in triumphant smiles. These men are kings, regal in a way I’ve never seen them before.
Of course, my gaze returns to Dragan. In thick gray robes, he appears more handsome than ever. His body fills out the clothing well, revealing the broadness of his shoulders, the swell of his chest and the narrow tapering of his waist that leads to long and powerful legs.