by Charley Case
Mila cringed at the sight of Victoria, still hanging from her shackles, covered in sweat and grime from the dusty building. Her hair was stringy and stuck to her face. But it was her hands that made Mila nearly burst into tears.
In the hour since Mila had seen her last, her hands had swollen to twice their normal size and split open in several places from the internal pressure. Blood dripped from her fingers down into her hair and onto the floor below. It had to be excruciating.
Victoria had a permanent twist of pain on her face but didn’t cry out. She didn’t even raise her voice but talked to Yaminah in a calm and steady voice.
“You don’t have to do this,” Victoria said, tone matter of fact. “We have a way to fix what he has done to your soul. We can repair the damage and free—”
“Do you know how it works when a Drude takes a thrall?” Yaminah interrupted. “I found it fascinating, considering I didn’t even know what a Drude was a few weeks ago. But my education has been rather hands-on since then.”
As she paced, Yaminah held up a single finger. “The first way they can take someone is to make them into a simple thrall. It works on anyone, magical or not. He just takes all but a sliver of their essence and replaces what he took with infernal magic. Boom, instant minion. Low maintenance, never question orders.”
She held up a second finger. “Two. A Drude can take the whole soul and replace it with infernal magic. This may sound like just a different kind of mindless thrall, but I was surprised to find that it’s an entirely different process. You see, once he takes the whole soul out, he can then reshape the body into something else entirely. Azoth favors Rougarou, and I can see the appeal. They’re strong and deadly, but your people already know all about that. What you might not know is that Rougarou are really high maintenance. Need to feed them all the time, and if you’re not careful, they can get away from you.”
She stopped pacing and turned to look Victoria in the eye, then held up three fingers. “And last but not least, there’s what he has done to me. Takes just a bit of the soul and replaces it with infernal magic. The benefits of this to him are very high, but also it costs a fortune in magical resources. I’m still mostly who I was before he took that little part and replaced it with his taint, but he has to use a lot of his magical resources to keep me in line. To be honest, I could probably break free of his control if I really tried. At least I could break the mental control, but there is one tiny hitch. It’s so simple, yet so effective. Part of the deal is a Geas. It’s a pretty simple spell, at least it is for Azoth. Basically, it’s a curse. If I don’t do my best to protect him or try to disobey a direct order, the Geas kills me on the spot.”
She held up a finger, stopping Victoria from speaking. “Before you say anything more, I feel I should mention that his last order was: in the event that you try to escape or talk your way out of your predicament, I am to hurt you until you stop. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Victoria nodded, but her face was still passive. “I understand. You understand that you don’t have to keep living this way, right? If you take the shackles off, I can have you back to your old self in minutes.”
Yaminah sighed loudly, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I just told you what was going to happen if you continued to try to get free.”
“You can fight him,” Victoria urged, her tone soothing as if she were talking to a wild animal. “We can fight him together. You would be free.”
Quick as a cat, Yaminah lunged forward and slammed a fist into Victoria’s gut, driving the wind from her lungs.
Mouth open in pain as she swung back on the long chain like a pendulum, Victoria struggled to suck in a breath.
Yaminah caught Victoria by the front of her blouse when she swung back and pulled her in close. “Are you done?”
Victoria finally sucked in a deep breath. “Just set me free, and I’ll do the same for you.”
Yaminah sighed again and slowly squatted down, keeping eye contact with Victoria. She reached out and pulled off one of Victoria’s black heels, tossing the shoe into a dark corner of the factory. Still holding eye contact, Yaminah gave her a sad smile and gently began stroking the top of Victoria’s foot.
“I know what you’re trying to do, Valkyrie. You want me to get out of control and kill you by accident. It was a good plan, really.” She stopped stroking Victoria’s foot and took hold of her long slender second toe. “The problem with that plan is that I know exactly how much of a body I can destroy and keep the person alive. It’s amazing what you learn growing up in a war zone.”
Yaminah twisted her hand savagely to the side, snapping the delicate phalanges, and finally elicited a scream of pain from the ancient Valkyrie.
Mila had seen enough; they needed to get in there now.
Pulling her control from the fly, Mila felt a wave of dizziness overcome her for a second. She caught herself before she fell out of the van’s passenger seat, but just barely.
“What happened?” Remmy asked, helping Mila to sit up straight again. “You were filling out the blueprint, then just went silent.”
Mila noticed the tablet was gone but spotted it in Carl’s hand as he and Tina studied the interior elements Mila had filled in, to come up with a plan of attack.
“We need to get in there now! Victoria is trying to get Yaminah to kill her, but it’s not going to work. She’s just being tortured for no reason but her own stubbornness.”
“Hey,” Jenny said, putting a gentle hand on Mila's shoulder as she leaned into the van’s cabin. “Think of this from Victoria’s perspective. As far as she knows she’s all alone, waiting for some maniac to come back and eat her soul. She doesn’t know there’s a rescue team right outside. To her, this is her only option.”
Mila nodded and wiped a tear from her eye. “I know. You’re right. It’s just hard to wait while we put our plan together, knowing she’s in there suffering because I didn't move fast enough.”
“That’s not helpful thinking,” Jenny admonished. “Think constructively. What can you do while you wait to speed things up later? I’m preparing explosive traps. I’m not entirely sure what we’re going to need, but I can get most of the work done while I wait and only have to make little adjustments once we’re out there.”
Mila glanced at the alley. “I hear you. Thanks.”
She patted Jenny’s hand and smiled up at her. “Hey, Carl. Just so you know, I can use a shit ton of flies to set off the wards, if that helps with the plan.”
His eyes widened, and he nodded. “That would be perfect, actually.”
“Okay, let me know when you have a plan of attack ready. I’m going to be gathering our distraction.”
Mila gave Carl a nod and turned back to the front seat. Remmy had her nose buried in her phone, a frown on her face.
“What’s wrong?”
Remmy looked up from her phone. “Oh, nothing, I guess.”
“What are you doing?”
“I was looking for Missy on some of the social media sites, but I can’t find anything.”
Mila raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“I just wanted to see what she looked like.” The goblin frowned. “It’s really weird that I can't find her anywhere. There are Missy Walkers, but none who match the description and age. It’s so weird.”
“It’s not that weird. Maybe she just doesn’t have an online presence. She is, like, ten thousand years old. She’s probably just over it.”
Remmy frowned. “But you said that Valkyries don’t regain their memories until they’re pretty much grown up.”
“Yeah.”
“So, up until a few months ago for all Missy knew, she was a regular fifteen-year-old. You’re telling me that a fifteen-year-old goth chick from Southern California doesn’t have social media? That might actually be the craziest thing I’ve ever heard from you, boss.”
Mila shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. Look, we can search for her together later if it’s bothering this much. Right
now, I need to gather a swarm.”
Mila sucked in a breath and focused on the flies, formulating just how she was going to take over a million flies all at once.
She cracked her neck and got started.
Chapter Twenty
Finn had been walking up the beach for more than an hour. He had passed from the park into the National Seashore a few miles back. The beachgoers had quickly thinned to nothing, and he hadn’t seen a soul for forty-five minutes.
To his left, he could see a short ten-foot-high bluff about five hundred yards inland that was covered in low sturdy trees.
He pulled the pack off his back, set it on the ground, and dug in the main compartment to find his phone. He pulled up the file Penny had sent him and read through some of her notes, then looked over the map she had included in the file.
The bluffs were mentioned in several treasure trails she had highlighted. He double-checked the map to his location and decided he was in the right place.
As he put the phone in his pack, Finn closed his eyes and focused his power, trying to sense high concentrations of precious metals in the area. To his surprise, there were several sources relatively close by. By far, the strongest came from the bluffs. He just needed to find a—
“You okay there, big fella?” a sweet feminine voice asked.
Finn’s eyes snapped open as he turned to see a thin young woman in a park ranger outfit. Her sharp features had weathered some from constantly being outside. Her skin was a deep bronze color that matched her sun-streaked brown hair almost perfectly. She stood a few feet away, a cautious look in her brown eyes.
“Oh, hello. Yes, I’m doing quite well. How are you this fine afternoon, Ranger?” Finn gave her his most winning smile.
She raised an amused eyebrow. “I’m doing pretty well. Just a warning, if you’re going to continue that way, it’s another fifteen miles before you’ll reach anything resembling civilization. I don’t recommend it, personally.”
“Thanks. I don’t plan on heading all the way up. I was just out for a long stroll. What about you?” He looked around at the empty beach.
“I’m out surveying the ponies. Getting a rough count and seeing that they don't need medical attention.”
Finn nodded. “Well, don’t let me keep you. I’m just out for a stroll.”
Her eyes narrowed as she regarded him.
“Yeah, you mentioned that.” She stared at him for a few seconds more, but he just smiled at her. “Well, if you get into any trouble, I’ll be back this way in an hour or so.”
“Good to know. Thanks.”
She nodded, her expression still suspicious, but turned and headed towards a dune farther inland where a four-wheeler was parked on the back side. He watched as she climbed on, started it up, and after giving him a wave, drove back the way she had just come.
Finn watched her go until he couldn’t see her anymore, then turned back towards the bluffs, to look for the best way to get there. He saw where a wash had cut a path through the marsh and spilled out onto the beach.
The waterway was as dry as a bone and would make for easy going, at least part of the way.
He picked up his backpack and shouldered it. After adjusting his floppy hat, he headed inland towards the dried-out wash.
Where the sand turned rough, full of sticks and dried grasses, Finn pulled the leather flip- flops out and tossed them on the ground. He fished his toes under the straps one at a time before continuing onto more solid ground.
On cresting a small dune, Finn saw the marsh spread out between him and the bluffs, the long green grasses waving in the breeze. A strong smell of salt and fresh earth filled his nostrils. He could see the wash wound along the side of the marsh, hemmed in by shoulder-high grass, but it turned back towards the edge of the bluffs where it most likely originated.
He shrugged the pack higher on his shoulders and headed down into the sandy wash, glad to find that it was indeed solid ground compared to the soft give of the beach. Twenty feet into the marsh, he felt like he was walking down a wide hallway with dense grass for the walls.
The grass passage blocked off the sounds of the ocean, only to replace them with the constant slither of grass rubbing against itself in the breeze and the buzz of tiny insects that flourished in the wetlands.
Finn quickly learned to keep his mouth closed as he walked around a sharp bend in the dried creek bed, watching his feet so he didn’t trip on a rock, and ran face-first into a dense swarm of gnats. So shocked by the sudden cloud of bugs was he that he sucked in a breath of surprise. That proved to be a huge mistake. It took him nearly five minutes of coughing and spitting to clear his throat and lungs of the tiny intruders.
After that, Finn was much more careful about his mouth etiquette as he traversed the marsh.
As he rounded what he hoped was the final bend before he could get out of the never-ending grass hallway, Finn came to an abrupt halt.
In a tight circle, their heads close together as if they had just been talking quietly to one another, stood five round-bellied ponies.
The ponies and Finn stared at one another with wide eyes as if they had been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. No one moved, unsure what to do next.
Finn finally broke the spell by smiling and giving them a wave. “Hello, everyone. Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt; just passing through.”
He slowly walked to the far side of the wash and held his hands up to show he didn’t mean them any harm. The five potbellied ponies followed him with their eyes but made no move to get away. Finn sidestepped past them, their judgmental eyes on his every movement.
Once past them, he waved again. “It was a real pleasure, guys. Please, continue with whatever it was you were doing before I interrupted.”
The closest pony whinnied, shook his long mane at Finn, and then headed down the wash in the opposite direction. Finn had the distinct impression that he had a look of disgust on his face.
When the rest of the ponies followed the first one’s lead and turned their noses up at him before trotting off like a pack of aristocrats, Finn frowned and gave them all the finger behind their backs.
“Pompous little fucks.” He turned back to the path and kicked his foot out to let a pebble fall out of the flip-flop before moving on.
Eventually the wash led to a large lagoon full of lapping ocean water, cut off from the bay itself by the constantly shifting sands of the island. Finn guessed the lagoon didn’t have a name, considering how often the landscape must change.
The only way to have any sort of permanent land feature on a sandy barrier island like Assateague must be if a cluster of trees got a foothold, let the sand pile up over the years, then grew more trees on top of that, and have the cycle repeat for generations.
Finn figured that’s what had happened to create the “bluffs” that rose beside the lagoon. Finn guessed the natural path between the water’s edge and the tall grasses of the marsh must be maintained by the large pony population using it to get further inland from the wash he had just come up.
The sandy path rose gently out of the marshland and wound its way to the back of the forested hill behind the bluffs.
Within seconds the path went from sandy grass and sun to covered in pine needles and shaded by the stunted pine forest. Finn breathed in the fresh scent and took in the hardened sentinels that made the hill possible.
While stunted, the pines were still tall enough to allow him to walk under most of the boughs without much problem. He noticed the ground cover, thin in the constant shade, left an unobstructed view through the trees and over the marsh to the vibrant blue ocean waters.
As he walked along the edge of the small forest where the land fell away into the marsh below, Finn was careful not to get too close to the drop off in case the ground wasn’t as solid as it looked. He took a few minutes to enjoy the elevated view, even if it was only ten feet up.
He closed his eyes once again, focused his power, and sensed the large deposit of prec
ious metals to his left, not far away.
He opened his eyes and breathed in a lungful of salty air before turning and slowly making his way through the trees, taking his time and enjoying the shade of the trees.
After a few dozen yards, the forest parted to reveal a small meadow with lush green grass covering the suddenly firm ground, and three huge trees in the center. The air had changed as well, still holding a hint of ocean salt, but now the smell of grass and loam filled his nostrils.
Finn frowned and turned to make sure he hadn’t stepped through a portal by accident, but the pine forest still stood behind him. He turned back and noticed that the three large trees growing in the center of the meadow were oaks, not pines like the rest of the forest. The thick-trunked trees grew in a triangle, equidistant from one another, and towered a good fifty feet overhead, their thick green canopies shading a large swath of ground around the bases of the oaks.
Finn decided there was something very odd about this place. Considering that three fifty-foot-tall trees would be visible for miles on the ridiculously flat barrier island, Finn found it impossible to believe he hadn’t noticed them at all until stumbling into them. He knew there must be magic involved somehow, but it was either so subtle that he couldn’t detect it, or it just didn’t affect him for some reason, so there was nothing for him to sense.
He definitely felt that there a huge amount of treasure close by, and he guessed it must be buried at the center of those three trees.
Finn sighed, reached around, and pulled the foldable camping shovel he had bought on his second trip out for Penny from a side pocket in the backpack.
He unfolded the short shovel blade and frowned. “Why is this never easy?”
He marched over to the trees, dropped his pack, fell to his knees, and jammed the shovel into the ground. To his surprise, he only had to dig about six inches down before he hit something solid. Two minutes of clearing the dirt and widening the hole later, Finn pulled a small iron-bound chest from the dirt. After setting it down beside him, he brushed off the soil and flipped the latch.