Aloft

by J F Rogers

  Kai shrugged. “Just promise me you’ll let me help if you get tired. It’s only been a few days, and you’ve barely rested. You lost so much blood.”

  “I’m fine now.” Other than a teensy headache. “And I’ll be restored the minute we return.”

  “But we can’t keep going back and forth and risk the demons in the spiritual realm.”

  “I know. I have plenty of food.”

  Kai grabbed my hand, spinning me toward him. His beautiful eyes stared into my soul with such intensity. “Promise me you’ll take breaks when you can. If there’s not much talk, I’ll translate.”

  “Okay. Okay.” I shook my arm free, and we closed in on Turas. I half expected the ancient stones to morph into a living being. They gave off an aura of something alive—something majestic—with stories to tell, beckoning me near. The more time I spent in their midst, the more I longed to stay.

  A crow cawed in the distance. Several others responded. An ominous chill swept through me. Would I witness Morrigan’s resurrection and those women’s deaths? I shuddered. I didn’t care to see either. But what choice did I have?

  I thought about those women, their fear, the war, the zpět. There was nothing personal to attach a memory to. No details. Only tidbits of information from stories I’d heard. I didn’t even know in which year the resurrection occurred. Probably hundreds of years ago. All I could do was try. God, help us find these women. And at the right time.

  I placed Drochaid in the depression in Turas’s center stone. Pain behind my eyes flared, shooting my brain. “Ah!” I clutched my head. Strange emotions flooded my mind. Frustration, curiosity, and something else… something inhuman.

  Kai grasped my shoulders. “Another headache?”

  I hunched over and squeezed my head in my palms, my eyes squished tight.

  Kai held me. “Let’s go back.”

  The pain subsided into a dull ache and pressure at the back of my eyes. “I’m okay. Let’s keep going.”

  Kai narrowed his eyes. “I don’t thi—”

  “Please, Kai?” I peered at him, begging. “This might be our only chance.”

  His chest expanding with a deep breath, he shook his head. “If something happens to you—”

  “It won’t.” I attempted to shut out the ache and the inexplicable feelings of disgust as I swirled my finger over its face and repeated the time to when Turas was whole. “April 24, 1521 BC.” The stones groaned, then circled us without disturbing us or the earth. They sped until they seemed to form a gray wall.

  Not wanting to chance an encounter with a demon, the moment we appeared in the complete Turas in the past, I did what I could to get us out. The monument had barely come to a stop when I switched gears, focusing on Morrigan. I couldn’t imagine anything else since I’d never seen them. So, I conjured the image of Morrigan and repeated the words—resurrection, women, zpět—in my mind, hoping it would bring us to the right time and place.

  Stonehenge swirling around us once more, I breathed easier. Had a demon been there, it was too late to affect us now. The pain, now a constant companion in my head, vanished.

  The wall disappeared, and we stood in a modest hut with a dirt floor and a thatched roof. Two women huddled by a stove. Their backs to us. Only their unfurling skirts, ratty shawls, and unkempt hair visible. One red-haired, the other blonde.

  Kai reached out for Drochaid.

  “Give me a minute.” I held up a finger for him to wait.

  He gave me a look that said, I thought you agreed to let me help.

  “I’m okay for now. I promise I’ll take a break. Just not yet.” I had to see what they were doing. If they had the zpět, whatever they did might give us a clue how to use it. I imagined us next to the women. They bent over an amulet on the stove. I sucked in a breath. It must be the zpět. Finally! Now I had something tangible to aid me in my quest to find it in the current time. I clapped my hands, hid my smile, and peeked at Kai over my steepled fingers.

  He caught my stare out of the corner of his eye. His lips twitched as if trying not to smile. But he didn’t need to. His eyes smiled for him.

  The zpět didn’t resemble Drochaid. It was much darker, as if made from charcoal, and a pentagram covered its face. No other symbols. Just the pentagram.

  Nervous jolts set me on edge as the impact of what they were about to do hit me. Every fiber within me itched to destroy the thing before these women resurrected Morrigan.

  “What were the words he said to use?” the redhead asked.

  “Thoir dhomh Morrigan bhon mharbh,” the blonde said.

  Words Drochaid couldn’t translate?

  “Do you think it’s hot enough?” Red touched the amulet. “Ow!” She pulled back and brought her sore finger to her lips.

  Blonde rubbed her arms and shivered. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

  “We must.” Red grasped the other woman’s shoulders. “This is the only way to protect our husbands. There’s no way they’ll survive this war.”

  Still shaking, Blonde nodded.

  What I wouldn’t give to smack some sense into these morons.

  Red grimaced. “I’ll go first.” Her hand hovered over the hot stone. She set her jaw and thrust her palm to its face. Pain twisting her face, she clenched her other hand, probably fighting her instincts and every reasonable thought to keep her hand connected. “Thoir dhomh Morrigan—”

  Something about her chanting while connected to the evil amulet and the burnt flesh assaulting my nose made me feel like worms coursed through my bloodstream. I plugged my ears and breathed through my mouth.

  When her lips stopped moving, I dropped my hands. She lifted her palm, her flesh a scorched mess bubbling into a pentagram.

  The blonde, eyes wide, stood frozen.

  “Do it. Now.” Red’s voice came in broken breaths, her face blotchy.

  “No!” I yelled and swiped at the amulet to fling it off the stove. But it remained just as it was. If only these fools could hear me. This was torture. Absolute torture. Watching these idiots mutilate themselves, using dark witchcraft they didn’t seem to understand, knowing their efforts would result in death and destruction for hundreds of years.

  Yet here I stood. A witness. A powerless witness. I fought back tears, clenching my hands.

  Kai put an arm on my shoulder.

  The blonde stuck her palm to the stone. Again, I covered my ears as she hurried through the words. Her mouth wide in silent agony, she shook her palm as if that might ease the pain.

  The fools placed their palms together, fingers entwined. As soon as they began chanting again, I pressed my hands over my ears.

  An eerie sensation swept over me, like I was bathing in pure evil, soaking it into my pores. Similar to the sensation I’d experienced when the demon appeared outside Stonehenge. Though it didn’t penetrate me, making me want to drop to the ground and crawl into a pit of self-pity and despair as before, it gave me chills just the same.

  The air surrounding us stirred. Wind tossed my hair, carrying the electric fasgadair scent. Was I smelling Morrigan? The first fasgadair? I twisted my body to Kai. His hair swept up, away from his forehead, then settled back into place. Could he smell it too?

  “Uh. Is that supposed to happen?”

  I shook my head. Never had I experienced any disturbance inside the circle.

  The amulet flew from the stove over the women’s heads onto the dirt floor. Their hands broke apart, and they turned as the zpět sank into the ground. Dirt bubbled up in spots until it formed the horizontal shape of a woman with the zpět around her neck. The dirt shape took on nondescript flesh, smooth, like plastic. It opened its eyes. Dead eyes.

  Kai averted his gaze, avoiding her nakedness, though her body currently resembled a mannequin. Nothing to feel guilty for watching. Yet somehow guilt washed over me as I witnessed these two buffoons rouse an ungodly creature from its unholy place, knowing it was about to begin its reign
of terror. I hadn’t caused this. But my body twitched to stop the madness. Anything. But it was like watching a movie, knowing the end, but hoping for a different outcome. Useless.

  The demon sat up and turned its head—Morrigan’s hairless head—back and forth in slow motion without blinking. She could’ve stepped out of a black-and-white horror film. Black eyes, white skin.

  The two women gawked at one another, shut their gaping mouths, then returned to the monstrosity they’d brought forth.

  Blonde, otherwise frozen, flapped her hand, hitting Red. “G–Get her a blanket.”

  Red rushed from the room, but Morrigan had risen. I’d had her in my sights the entire time and never saw her move. One second she was sitting, the next she stood behind Red clutching Red’s arm.

  Letting out a small yelp, Red fought to remove her wrist from Morrigan’s clutches, her face turning purple, mouth twitching with the effort.

  Morrigan remained still, expressionless. Red clawed at Morrigan, who never flinched. Then Morrigan drove her teeth into Red’s neck.

  Again, I hadn’t seen her move. I cringed as Red cried out and Morrigan sucked her blood.

  Blonde screamed. Hands to her face, eyes bulging. She bolted.

  Red’s eyes rolled back in her head, and she slumped. Morrigan let her drop, not bothering to wipe the blood from her lips.

  Blonde had almost reached the threshold. Morrigan materialized before her and sank her teeth into her neck, cutting Blonde’s cry short. Within seconds, she joined her coconspirator on the floor.

  Dripping blood, like a living thing, licked down sides of Morrigan’s mouth and chin. She pivoted toward Kai and me. Her eerie eyes seemed to rest on me. I held my breath. Could she see us? Those dead eyes remained fixed as she zombie-walked toward us. His grasp on my arm tightened. I grabbed him, just in case, as I visualized us out of her way. She glanced our way but continued toward the door, then leapt and transfigured into a crow in the air. The zpět dangling from her talons.

  Chapter Six

  ◊◊◊

  I ENVISIONED US IN the sky after Morrigan. She vanished into the clouds. I followed but, surrounded by white, lost sense of direction. My gut squeezed. I couldn’t lose her. But where should I go?

  Uncertainty twisted Kai’s face. “Any idea where she went?”

  “According to the legend, as soon as the women resurrected her—or partially resurrected her—she flew to the battlefield…” I imagined us above the clouds, scanned the skies for any movement. Nothing. I’d have to check each direction, starting north. I darted ahead.

  “What battlefield?” He widened his stance, arms splayed, glancing at the clouds speeding past beneath him.

  “To the final battle of the clan wars. Those women thought they were helping their families by resurrecting Morrigan, hoping she would wipe out their enemies. Instead, they gave their husbands a death sentence. Legend has it that Morrigan flew to the battlefield and killed everyone other than a few who escaped and shared the news.”

  “Can’t you imagine us there?” His cinnamon complexion had sallowed to a green hue as he groped for the ground and lowered himself.

  “I don’t know where it is.” Finding nothing north, I returned to the original spot and darted northeast. “Besides, I can’t get there without going back to 1521.” But what about when I followed Declan’s father? I moved time forward by imagining the sun higher in the sky. Could I move us forward and to another place?

  “What are you going to do, check every direction?” He crisscrossed his legs and stared at me as if trying to find something to ground him.

  “That’s the plan.” I noted the sun’s position to keep my bearings.

  “But you didn’t know the women’s location, yet you found them.” He swayed. “Can’t you try? We can always go back to where we lost Morrigan and try again.”

  He was right. I didn’t want to waste time checking every direction and fail to find her. And I was already tiring. As much as I hated to admit it, the blood loss had weakened me.

  I stopped, and he lunged forward, catching himself on his palms. I’d never seen him so unstable. Was his mind playing tricks on him as we traveled through the air? We had solid ground beneath us. Even if it was invisible.

  With no idea what the battlefield looked like, I closed my eyes and conjured the image of Morrigan in human and crow form as the word battlefield swirled around my mind, hoping Turas delivered us to the right place.

  Pounding thunder and a roar like a herd of crazed animals jolted my eyes open. A swarm of men in kilts, chain mail, and helmets bellowed in a barbaric war cry as they stormed around and through us. My breath caught, and I brought us back into the sky, over the rushing army. We were mere shadows. But it still unnerved me when people walked through me. Especially these guys.

  This looked right. But where was Morrigan?

  I searched the skies. This would be much easier in falcon form with my eagle eyes.

  “Here, let me take over while we wait.” Kai held his hand out. He looked much better. “Go sit.”

  “Fine.” I pulled the cord over my head and gave it to him. “But if anyone says something important, tell me. And if there’s a lot of talk, let me take it back.”

  He nodded.

  I rooted around for the invisible rocks, sat in front of one, and leaned back. These lands didn’t look familiar.

  Something came barreling from the clouds to the north. He moved us closer. A crow. My breath caught. It had to be her. The crow swooped low, cawing as if thrilled by the ensuing battle. If the legends of her bloodlust were true—and from what I’d just seen, they were—they didn’t call her the battle crow or the battle queen for nothing.

  In the air, with Kai in control, I understood his motion sickness. It was like we were flying a jerky, invisible plane. My stomach rolled as he dipped lower, hovering over the clans as they converged, their weapons clashing together. Arrows crossed paths. One flew through my shoulder. I tensed and grasped the spot, surprised by the lack of pain. Then laughed at myself. Their weapons couldn’t hurt me.

  The screams dissipated as metal clanged. Grunts and gasps flowed along with crimson rain as weapons met flesh and bodies fell.

  What brought Morrigan here? How far had we traveled from the women’s hut? Had she sensed blood like a shark? Or had something in the women’s spell drawn her to this place? She resumed cawing as if reveling in the destruction, circling over the mayhem. Jutting her wings to slow her approach, she transfigured midair like a pro, landing smoothly on her bare feet.

  Kai averted his gaze again, though her body looked just as it had before, like a life-size hairless Barbie with freakish demon eyes. But, rather than point that out, I stood and reclaimed the reins.

  Before anyone registered her appearance, she came up behind a thick man with bare, bulging arms and bit his neck as she had the two women. His opponent, an intimidating warrior, stood like a statue, staring as a monster did his dirty work for him. She dropped the lifeless body, and the warrior remained frozen. Either he was a horrible fighter, or he was a nonbeliever falling under Morrigan’s control. I blinked, and he was in Morrigan’s clutches, losing precious blood.

  Even if I weren’t merely a shadow visiting the past, as a believer in God, I wouldn’t be able to experience being caught in a fasgadair’s web, stilled, as I once had. But why hadn’t the women fallen under her spell? As feeble as their attempts were, they at least tried to flee. But believers wouldn’t have summoned Morrigan. Or, like her features, maybe her ability to control nonbelievers took time to develop.

  More fighters saw Morrigan drinking another man’s blood. They poised their weapons against her. She killed them too. More and more men noticed the monster in their midst. They stopped fighting each other. Some tried to attack. Others stilled. It didn’t matter. She was far too quick and seemed to have eyes everywhere. No matter where they came at her, she disappeared and reappeared elsewhere, in a perfect spot to
land another bite to a neck.

  Between each kill, her features took on more definition. Bloody mud caked her skin, covering her nakedness. Her black hair grew, and her face became more feminine and less crypt-like. But those eyes would never change. Nor would the sick sensation washing over me when in her presence.

  Within minutes, dead bodies blanketed the battlefield. An atrocious smell—coppery, sweaty, rotting flesh—defiled earth. I didn’t see anyone escape, but at least one must have to tell the tale. The fight was over. Both sides lost. She returned to the air and flew back and forth over the dead bodies cawing, reveling in her victory, just as the legends claimed.

  My body shook as my stomach threatened to show me what it had done to my breakfast.

  Kai attempted to follow her. He must’ve gotten annoyed chasing her back and forth and stopped bothering. Instead, we hovered, midair, over the battlegrounds while she continued her victory flight.

  I had to fight through this desire to give up. We’d made progress. We now knew what the zpět looked like. We had a starting point from which to locate it. We hadn’t witnessed these atrocities for nothing.

  But if Morrigan had the zpět, how did it end up in the Cnatan Mountains? Or was Cairbre misinformed? How long would I have to follow her to figure out where it is now?

  Something caught her attention on the ground. A body moved. She dove, and we followed. She stood by the writhing man’s head, cawing in his ear as he flinched. A gash in the man’s side and the lack of teeth marks showed him a victim of a sword, not Morrigan. She transfigured, bit her wrist, and then fed him her blood. He sputtered, grasped her wrist, and drank like a starving animal.

  Morrigan yanked her wrist away. Her head swiveled, slow and to an unnatural angle, like a demon-possessed doll in a horror film. She materialized beside a body a few feet away. She removed a tunic from one of the cleaner bodies and covered herself. It fell like a tent on her small frame.

  She returned to the man who drank her blood. His chest was still. No sound came from him. Perhaps her first attempt to create another fasgadair had failed.