Monsters & Mist

by Taylor Fenner

  Andromeda winces in pain and brings her knee up hitting Lyra hard in the stomach and throwing her back a few feet. Lyra lands hard on the marble, her head cracking and her bones rattling in protest.

  They’ve been circling each other for what feels like ages and Lyra fatigues rapidly from using her power to keep the barrier of water in place and Andromeda’s allies secured to the wall while also calling upon it to help her put an end to Andromeda.

  The girl is stronger than Lyra anticipated. She’s bloodied and bruised and yet she shows no sign of growing weaker or being fatigued. Andromeda charges across the circle slashing through Lyra’s torso with the blades she’d forged from water.

  Blood seeps through Lyra’s gown and Lyra slaps her hand over the wound trying to stop the flow but it seeps between her fingers with sickening ferocity. Howling, Lyra staggers to her feet and throws up her other hand to counter Andromeda’s advances but the girl spins out into an amorphous mist reappearing moments later at Lyra’s back.

  “Getting tired?” Andromeda taunts as she hauls Lyra around and gives her whiplash with a bone crushing slap.

  “Never,” Lyra rasps as she lets her physical form go and becomes all water.

  ❖

  Octavia

  “There’s something strange about the way that wave came from out of nowhere,” Castor Luxworth’s deep voice vibrates against Octavia’s skin as he yells in her ear.

  “Did you see which direction it came from?” Octavia asks.

  “No,” Castor shakes his head. “That’s what’s so strange. It was there in an instant where nothing had been a second earlier.”

  “What are you suggesting?” Octavia turns her head to look at Castor. They hover over the palace on Sturmfyre’s back, Castor hanging tightly to Octavia’s waist as he eyes the beast warily.

  “With the discovery of all the peoples we’ve either never seriously considered to be real or thought to be long gone from this land we’ve never considered one group.” Castor hints bleakly.

  “The Waterborn,” Octavia breathes as her stomach plummets. “Yes, you’re right. They can switch between human and water forms like the Perscesians can.”

  “They were probably hiding not far behind our company, watching us.” Castor theorizes. “I’ve heard rumors of Waterborn living up in the mountains but I’ve never met any.”

  “Rian is Waterborn,” Octavia comments, almost more to herself than for Castor’s ears.

  “He is?” Castor asks sharply.

  “Well, yes,” Octavia blinks. “Lester revealed him to be a member of the Order, which are mostly Waterborn. Were you not paying attention at our last strategy meeting?”

  “Do you know which one of your riders picked him up?” Castor presses urgently.

  “I have no idea,” Octavia shakes her head, “if he didn’t perish before the wave he could be with any of my fleet.”

  “Is there a way to check?” Castor asks.

  “Imelda,” Octavia calls to her second. Turning back to Castor she says, “Good thinking. I will spread word with my fleet to have him brought to us.”

  Imelda, sensing the urgency in her Storm Leader’s voice spreads the request to the rest of the sisterhood who break off to address the generals and the Perscesian legionnaires.

  A bolt of lightning crackles overhead spooking Sturmfyre who plunges several feet toward the ground and causing Castor to cling to Octavia for dear life before the beast levels himself out. Octavia soothes her mount as Castor struggles to calm his racing heart.

  “How can a beast made from the clouds above be afraid of lightning?” Castor glares darkly at the beast who snorts fiery sparks in response.

  “It was just the sudden noise is all,” Octavia explains defensively. “Sturmfyre is all right now, aren’t you boy?”

  The stormrider nuzzles his mistress’s hand lovingly. The flapping of wings steals Castor’s attention as a golden-haired rider swoops down with the Warrior tailor riding calmly at her back.

  “You needed to see me?” Rian shouts across the distance between them once his companion gets within a respectable distance.

  “You’re Waterborn, correct?” Octavia confirms.

  Rian pauses as his gaze shoots briefly to Castor before he finally grits out, “I am.”

  “The wave that crashed down on Cygni’s foot soldiers, could a Waterborn have done that?” Octavia asks.

  Rian’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Well, we are capable of taking on a fluid form, yes. But for that great of a wave you’d have to have a large number of Waterborn working together.” He slaps his forehead angrily, “Shi’ite. Why didn’t I think of it sooner? Yes, the Waterborn not aligned with the Order most likely are working with Lyra. They’re a warring, combative tribe. They probably snuck up behind the foot soldiers undetected and sent themselves crashing down on us.”

  “But how could we have missed that?” Castor furrows his brow.

  Rian grimaces, “When I say we can take on a fluid form, that fluid form can be any size we need it to be. They could have shrunk themselves down to the size of raindrops landing in our wake and we never would have known.”

  “Shi’ite.” Castor curses.

  “So wait,” Octavia interrupts. “All of that water flooding the streets down there, those are people?”

  “Waterborn people,” Rian nods, “yes.”

  “How can we wipe them out?” Octavia asks hesitantly not wanting to hurt Rian’s feelings.

  Rian swallows, “How much do you know of alchemy?”

  ❖

  Cygni

  When the tidal wave spit Cygni out he was laying at the palace doors. Pushing himself to his feet he passed through the splintered doors and charged inside without a passing glance at his men churning by in the raging tide.

  His boots squeak on the marble floor and his clothes drip, drip, drip all the way down the corridor as he stalks through the halls. The palace is silent, but that could mean that the servants have urged Cygni’s siblings into the tunnels below the palace for their safety. Lyra would never follow, she must be lurking somewhere nearby laying in wait.

  The throne room is the obvious choice so Cygni silences his steps and creeps onward. The closer Cygni gets to the throne room he hears a cacophony of sound, like rushing water and a soft substance smacking against stone.

  The doors are thrown wide and in the center of the room a hurricane spins wildly. Through the water Cygni can see Lyra on her knees panting for air. Behind her Andromeda raises a sword made of water and drives it down through Lyra’s cervical spine. Blood sputters from the usurper queen’s throat where the water-forged blade protrudes through the flesh.

  The wall of water collapses immediately and the people held up by black-green seaweed ropes, Daegan and his crew Cygni realizes belatedly, drop to the ground gasping and rubbing their raw wrists and necks.

  In the center of the throne room Andromeda stands over the queen’s corpse triumphant.

  Then a gasp shatters the calm as a girl who resembles a younger, plumper version of the fallen queen covers her mouth in horror. Andromeda turns quickly to see what is the matter when she hears an all-too-familiar voice.

  “I always knew having an identical twin would come in handy,” Lyra purrs as she steps out of a hidden cubby in the shadows.

  Cygni doesn’t pause to think instead jumping into action as Lyra raises her hand to unleash a spool of her own awesome power upon her stolen daughter. Cygni swings his sword and the blade sings as it slices through his stepmother’s flesh. A delayed gasp passes her pillowy lips as her head flies from her body and rolls across the marble floor before coming to a stop at Andromeda’s feet.

  “What in Baster’s name just happened?” Andromeda asks faintly as her Landborn sister heaves in a corner.

  Chapter 27

  Octavia

  “Are you sure this will work?” Octavia asks nervously as Rian prepares barrels of a molten silvery substance.

  “I’m guessing that the W
aterborn people will not return to their physical forms until they get the all-clear from Lyra,” Rian comments as he stirs the contents of the barrel. “And since there’s very little you can do to wipe away water short of waiting for it to recede, which it won’t because the Waterborn are waiting for their queen — or mopping it up, which wouldn’t work and since you can’t stab or maim a Waterborn in their fluid form there’s only one option on the table.”

  “But I didn’t think water could burn,” Octavia crosses her arms as she watches Rian.

  “It can’t,” Rian grunts as he stirs faster. “One of the compounds that comprises water can indeed catch fire, but the other compound cannot which cancels out the flammability of the first compound. But if you pour a flammable substance, like this melted down alkaline for instance, into the water and light a match; well that will burn like crazy.”

  “You’re crazier than I thought you were,” Castor grins approvingly at Rian as the tailor finishes melting the last of the substance to a liquid.

  “Thank you,” Rian snorts. “Now help me get these barrels outside. We need to dump them out far enough from where we plan to retake to the skies and once we’re a safe distance above Octavia and her fleet will use their stormriders to set the fire.”

  “How long will it take to burn the Waterborn and burn itself out?” Octavia chews at her thumbnail nervously.

  “The whole process should only take a few minutes.” Rian scratches his head.

  ❖

  Thane

  Thane watches idly as two of the stormriders descend to the ground and four figures disappear into a nondescript building near the army barracks. They’re gone for what seems like hours but can only be a matter of twenty minutes or so as the rest of the Starborn fleet and the Perscesian Legionnaires bob restlessly in the breeze as the ever present drizzle continues to pelt down on their backs intermittently increasing and decreasing in intensity.

  Thane’s fingers go numb and the pins and needles sensation of slumbering limbs tingles down his forearm where he holds the silent Stormrider’s waist to keep from plummeting dozens of feet to the ground below. He’s close to nodding off when the four figures emerge from the squat building.

  Two of the figures drag massive metal vats from the doorway which they tip sideways, allowing the contents to spill out and mingle with the calm waters flooding the city.

  What happens in the next seconds happens in such a flurry of motion that later Thane will struggle to put the order of events in sequence. The contents of the vats mingle colorlessly with the water making it impossible to separate the two substances from above. The stormriders quickly call upon their mounts, dragging their two companions onto the backs of the beasts hurriedly, never allowing the beasts’ feet to land on the water.

  Shooting like an asteroid the stormriders dart into the sky putting distance between themselves and the ground. It’s not until the stormriders signal their mounts and a stream of flame streaks through the air igniting the water below that Thane understands that the fluid was and was not water at all.

  As the beasts extend their wings to full wingspan and kick up a breeze so they can rejoin the rest of the fleet, masculine and feminine screams of agony crescendo over the sound of the rain and the wind. The water fizzles into human shaped clouds of steam as Waterborn men and women combust into unnatural balls of glowing green flames.

  The sky glows with the reflection of the burning Waterborn below casting the clouds above a sickly green-gray color as the stormriders flicker between iridescent, glasslike beings and solid normalcy.

  Thane swallows hard as the water flooding the city turns to smoke and flame.

  ❖

  Daegan

  Lyra’s wide, dead eyes looked sightlessly up from the toes of Andromeda’s boots. A tense silence strangled the room as Daegan’s crew inspected the slaughtered guards and servants Lyra left behind and consoled Andromeda’s landborn sister and her father. The girl shook like a leaf on the breeze in Serpane’s arms.

  The inner circlet inlaid in the middle of the throne room floor flickered alive with a bronze-gold glow that projected straight up in the air encircling Andromeda within. Daegan darted forward to pull Andromeda from the illuminated cage but the second his foot shuffled over the barrier a mechanical groan echoed throughout the room and the floor began to vibrate beneath their feet.

  Behind him, Prince Cygni’s gaze darts suspiciously between the ceiling and the floor and the walls, “This place is rigged to collapse,” the prince shouted over the din, “we need to get out of here. Now! Follow me.”

  Cygni led Daegan’s crew through a corridor opposite the way they’d come as Serpane and Sithryn wound their arms around the landborn girl and her father supporting them as they limp-ran toward the exit. There was no time to spare, no time to argue over strengths and weaknesses so Daegan lifted Andromeda up and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of flour as he darted after the others.

  “Put me down,” Andromeda hissed testily. “I can walk.”

  “I’m faster,” Daegan grunted. He shifted his hold on his princess as she landed a swift kick to his abdomen.

  The vision in his milk eye sharpened in the pitch dark corridor yet Daegan could only make out the dark silhouettes of his crew as they raced from the direction of the throne room.

  The palace shook violently around them as if it wanted to crush or expel the intruders in the quickest manner possible.

  At last the passageway funneled out into a narrow alley, or at least that’s where Daegan assumed they were. A thick cloud of smoke hangs in the air seeping into Daegan’s lungs and doubling him over in a coughing fit so severe Andromeda slid from his arms and landed hard on the ground hacking violently as her lips turned an unnatural deep red.

  The smoke began to clear, rolling away like the parting of an insubstantial curtain, in its wake leaving behind shimmering puddles and bloodied, broken bodies on the ground.

  At Daegan’s feet Andromeda growled a disgusted sound. Looking down Daegan saw her examining her hand. It was coated in slick blood and a bubbling silver substance.

  “Come ‘ere,” Daegan rumbles as he yanks his princess to her feet and wipes her hand clean with the bottom of his tunic. “We have to find the others.”

  ❖

  Andromeda

  Andromeda’s knees were scraped up, she could feel the sting of raw skin kissing the rough material of her pants. Even after Daegan wiped the sludge from her fingers she could smell the copper scent of blood and the chemical scent of the unknown substance seeping into her skin.

  There was blood in her hair and streaking her face. Her clothing was torn in places and scratches marked up her arms and neck. She was exhausted, but she had to keep going.

  The capital city was eerily quiet. Andromeda has to leap over the husks of men and women littering the ground. The corpses make Andromeda shiver. They’re not the bodies of the fresh dead, these remains look like all traces of life were sucked from them generations ago.

  Beyond the alley the city is smoldering and the ends of an unnatural green fire is burning itself out. The city is a wasteland, the once beautiful homes reduced to smoldering ruins. The market stalls lay in collapsed heaps of charred wood.

  “Wow,” Andromeda breathes, taken aback by the transformation.

  “What happened out here?” Daegan wonders aloud. “Certainly we weren’t in the palace long enough for all of this to happen.”

  “A great wave came,” overhearing their incredulity Cygni steps closer. “Many were swept away by the water and drown. Where the rest went or how the water receded so quickly I don’t know. I was thrown up against the palace doors.”

  The squawking of stormriders overhead steals their attention to the skies as the Starborn fleet and the Perscesian Legionnaires soar overhead. A small group of riders and legionnaires break away from the back diving down as their mounts seek space to land in the devastation of the city.

  Ezra is the first to jump from the drac
o mare he rides atop with Ceti. He closes the distance between himself and where Midgella leans on Serpane for support. Recognizing him Midgella dissolves into sobs as she melts into his arms.

  “I thought I’d never see you again,” Midgella whimpers into the hollow of Ezra’s neck.

  “Shh,” he soothes her. “It’s all over now.”

  Octavia hops off her stormrider and stomps over to one of the other riders. Placing her hands on her hips she begins shouting as a large beast of a man slides off the stormrider and lays facedown on the ground thankful to be on solid soil again.

  “What were you thinking?” Octavia shouts as she thrusts her arms into the air. “Andromeda and I risked our lives to save you and I requested one little thing from you. One thing! To stay in the forest so I would know you were safe. But could you do that? Of course not! You’re the most pig-headed, stubborn, foolish-”

  Thane silences her as he places his hands on her waist and yanks her flush against his body for a bone-crushing kiss. Octavia fights his embrace for a few seconds before letting her rage smother to relief that they’re both all right.

  “Finally,” Daegan chuckles as he steps beside her and watches their allies reunite. “I thought they’d never admit it.”

  “You’re one to talk,” the corner of Andromeda’s lips kick up in a smirk. She feels him staring at her, the heat of his gaze warming her despite the freezing rain still steadily beating down on her shoulders.

  “You know, all that blood looks really good on you. It makes your eyes pop.” Daegan comments.

  Andromeda snorts back her laughter, “I’ll remember to incorporate blood into my beauty regiment.”

  “Nah, you don’t need to do that,” Daegan shakes his head. “I’d recommend the regular slaying of your enemies instead. The blood of your enemies cost too much to bottle and keeps really poorly.”