Mortal Banshee

by Jonathon Magnus

  “I know you will do what is right.”

  “Things will look worse before they get getter. Before this is over, I will need you at your finest moment. And I will need you to do something that you may find distasteful. And I need you not to ask why.”

  She gripped his hand. “Unto my fall, Don.”

  “Okay … okay.” He thought through the scenario again. “I think Sorana should be recovering from the salts soon. It is a nice day for a picnic. Could you get her and put together a picnic for the three of us? I’ll meet you out there in maybe twenty minutes, maybe more. Go ahead and get started if I’m not there.”

  Chapter 71

  Hawks of War

  Visor walked to a corner of Mercy’s map room. He was aware that there was a concealed receptacle interface there. He activated a switch. A panel opened. Dozens of tiny lights illuminated an intricate mechanism. Hundreds of thin rods twisted together and formed a finger-like shape.

  Visor dug through his pouch and found Europhette’s gift, the Ring of Uncreation, on the mechanical finger. The finger swelled to fill the ring snugly. Lights shined upon the ring from all directions. The finger rotated so that the lights scanned the entire surface. The panel closed, leaving him in relative darkness.

  The screens of the map room illuminated, projecting a hologram of a lone woman on a muddy hill. He watched the Uncreation. When it was complete, he retrieved the Ring.

  Visor activated his Catalytic link to the vampire queen. Europhette, the prediction is ready.

  She responded. Killer. Show me.

  Europhette placed the bugle to her lips and called the tross rangers to attention. A siren translated her blast with a volume that only a nymph could. “Sky Knights of the Amaranthine Aerie, assemble for flight!”

  Various sirens, a tween human boy, a purple-haired woman, and at least one alfanar woman made final preparations and mounted their riding albatrosses. The mounted riders formed four columns facing Europhette.

  Europhette looked down on them from the Leigh’s back. She stroked the dragon, prompting it to pace along the edge of the cliff. Wind blew Europhette’s scarf and hair. She was bundled in layers of skins over leather armor.

  She spoke with the accent of Alafos aristocracy. “We have been called to arms by Master Morning, Lord and Commander of the Blade of Mercy. Our mission is to relieve Mercy’s Lancers from a Jortal artillery platoon under the command of the shaman Belgunot. We will disrupt the ogres and give chase to the nearby woods, where Rapture’s Pack lies in wait. This day, the combined forces of the Blade of Mercy will strike a victory for Xandria and her allies. This day, we say to Khatagin, ‘It is on’!

  “For some of you, this will be your first combat mission. Remember that you have like totally experienced riders around you. You have your awesome training. You know the formations and your roles. Do what you have been trained to do.

  “This is the largest flight of tross rangers ever assembled. We will form the most lethal air force known to Esselin since the dusk of dragon kind. Today, we will show the world what tross rangers can do! Today, we chase the ogres back to their igloos—the vardal to their burrows. Today, we turn the tide of destiny. Let fly your slings and arrows! Unveil thine grace. Unveil Serenity. Unleash the Hawks of War!”

  Leigh drowned out her last word with a massive roar. She turned and launched off the edge of the cliff, catching the updraft and circling back around.

  The War Hawks launched in waves off the cliff after her. Some were visibly nervous, but it was a disciplined launch overall—a good sign.

  Europhette waited for the two dozen tross rangers to take formation behind her, then headed out. After a time, Europhette signaled thermocline and changed direction. The flight circled in the rising warm air to gain elevation, and then resumed the original course.

  The sirens were singing behind her. Not a battle chant, but a vocal-only symphonic analog of an ancient sirenic tune about the end of days:

  The dusk approaches on gentle wings

  Closing dark eyes with a graceful flap

  The quiet sound fades unheard

  Because nothing is left to hear

  The Hawks of War entered a holding pattern ten leagues from the ogre heavy weapons infantry. Belgunot had a core of a few dozen ogre infantry. The front line carried massive, interlocking tower shields. It was a moving fortress. They closed on Mercy’s Lancers, who had fortified in an abandoned stone structure.

  Belgunot’s cavalry, ogres on mastodons and vardal on riding snakes, rode behind the infantry. The artillery and support troops trailed. The shield wall stopped advancing. The rest of the platoon parted. The artillery took position behind the shield wall and began to set up. The trebuchets would be able to demolish the Lancers’ fortification from a safe distance.

  Europhette signed, target the shaman and sub-chief. Corral the infantry to those woods. Take primary strafe formation: alpha-three banshee.

  Two sirenic tross rangers put hearing protection on their riding albatrosses.

  Leigh fell in behind those two albatrosses.

  The rest of the tross rangers readied their range weapons and took formation above and behind the dragon.

  Europhette assembled her break-away lance and inserted it into the saddle’s support pivot.

  Belgunot’s artillery was nearly assembled. Ammunition was being stacked.

  Europhette gave the signal and the War Hawks made their final approach. She gripped the lance and followed the two sirenic screamers into a dive, streaking in on the ogres from behind and out of the sun.

  The ogres never saw them coming. The brutes weren’t used to looking up.

  The screamers zipped over the ogres’ heads, releasing a wail and leaving a trail of distracted ogres and mastodons in their wake.

  Pixies, riding with the screamers, flashed pretty colors, further distracting the dim-witted ogres.

  Leigh followed, spewing a trail of acidic fog over the same path. The shaman was easy to identify, riding proudly in metallic armor and bone-spiked helmet. He was an easy target, elevated on his mammoth. Europhette impaled her lance into his rib cage. It broke off at the support pivot.

  The balance of the War Hawks followed in a strafing run, firing arrows, bolts and stones from just outside the ogres’ reach. The ogres were already in disarray, and would probably break on the next pass.

  As they cleared the infantry, Leigh tossed aside the shaman’s helmet and followed the sirenic screamers in assent. She repeatedly cocked her neck side-to-side and thumped her chest. She did that when she was excited.

  Europhette attached a new tip to her lance. She licked her lips and smiled.

  Visor thought, The next time you ‘feel fulfilled’.

  Europhette thought, Well, Imagine that: me working for you.

  I doubt it would happen that way.

  Oh, I don’t know, I’ve seen stranger things. Gladiators become heroes. Generals become criminals. A vampire queen working for an oracle—that could so totally happen.

  Easily, but if you were working for me, I’d never have you risk that beautiful creature of yours strafing ogres. All it would take is one lucky ogre pike thrust or a weighted net to finish it.

  But the acid cloud wouldn’t be effective that far away.

  Yeah. You’re command and control—spying and hauling commanders around. In any case, that’s a discussion for another time. I have another proposal for you. I have something unpleasant I need you to do. I believe I know where Maciate is. And I need you to go there.

  Chapter 72

  Say My Name

  “Donnie, I do appreciate your openness. I really do. It is relieving, to some extent, to understand things from your perspective.” Ranie rested a palm on Evan’s head.

  Visor said, “I’m just sorry that I wasn’t clearer with you earlier. It just took time to get things straightened out in a way I cou
ld understand it myself.”

  Ranie asked, “Seven years?”

  Quenton said, “Look guys, if you want me to leave, I can.”

  Visor said, “It doesn’t bother me. Leave if you want, though.”

  Quenton gestured over Evan’s body. “I don’t know how much time I have with Evan.”

  Ranie smiled.

  Visor asked, “What?”

  “Oh, it’s just every time he says her name, her heart beats differently. Colors flare in her mind, a mix of imaginings and memories. It’s like she’s reliving earlier events, but with variations.” Ranie’s demeanor changed from wistful to solemn. “Don’t mind me, Quenton. This is something I need to share. I don’t care who hears. Donnie, when you walked in, did you notice how I was sitting?”

  “I did notice your sitting off to one side. I assumed you were uncomfortable from sitting so long.”

  “I was leaning away from Quenton.”

  Quenton looked up in surprise.

  Ranie said, “It’s not you. It is simply that I feel less of your mental static when I distance myself more.”

  Visor said, “I thought you had to touch to link.”

  “I have to touch if I want to telepathically share precise memories or verbiage. There is an ambient emotional white noise from others, even when not touching, as long as you’re close enough. It is vague, but annoying. Sitting here, feeling Quenton’s distress, makes my head hurt. Being slightly further away from him lessens the white noise. I have stayed sober since before we left the Virtuosa, in case I needed a clear head to help Evan. I have barely slept since. I can’t turn this off. Sometimes, I really wish I would just burn out, like you did, or I thought you did.” Ranie stroked Evan’s hair.

  Visor said, “So when you’re in a crowded room …”

  “Like the Virtuosa … like McKinsey’s? It can be uncomfortable, even painful. I guess it’s similar to what sirens feel when others are in pain.”

  “And being intoxicated helps?”

  “It dulls the input. It seems to isolate the discomfort, at least. I’ve also found that if I’m the one being emotional—putting out the strongest signals, it tends to mask the input from others. It’s soothing to be a bitch.” Ranie stroked Evan’s hair. “Alcohol helps. And you help. I don’t know what it is. I don’t know if it was something any oracle would do, or just you, but there was something …” Ranie met his eyes. “Your embracing gentleness and wisdom—it actually soothed me. You drowned out the white noise of others. When I said ‘needed’, that’s exactly what I meant. Those times we played Enigma telepathically—it was like turning free from sleep … the only time I could let down my guard and really just be me.”

  “Ranie, I had no idea. I honestly don’t know what to say.”

  “I hated you for leaving me. No, I hated that you left me. I wanted to hate you, but couldn’t. Then there was the siren, and I assumed that would end someday. Then it didn’t. I felt like if I could just drive you away for good, I could move on. Yet, you were always kind to me. Why was that?”

  “I didn’t know why you always attacked me, but somehow, I didn’t take it personally. It just never hurt, coming from you.”

  “And that was infuriating. Didn’t you respect me enough to be hurt? Didn’t you care?”

  “I just—”

  “It would help if you wouldn’t answer rhetorical questions.” Ranie gasped. “I hope you know I didn’t mean those things I said.”

  “I know.”

  “I do want you to know that with Ignas in Mackenzie’s, I didn’t mean to cause the fight. Sorana linked with me, but it wasn’t really a link. It was more of an extreme empathic experience. She wanted me to have Evan provoke Ignas, or maybe I wanted it.”

  “I think your telepathy was interfering with some suppression she was exerting on me and Rap.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Actually, it would be best if we don’t talk about this right now—not just yet. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “Well, regardless of the details, I hope you know me better than that. I wouldn’t have tried to get people hurt.”

  Quenton said, “She seems unstable.”

  Ranie said, “Well, what do you expect with a complete schizoid for a mother?”

  Visor said, “I wouldn’t say unstable as much as awkward.”

  Ranie said, “Mercy feels absolutely nothing. I know that woman sounds intuitive and thoughtful, but she’s feeling nothing. I can promise you that.”

  “I know you’ve become friends with Sorana.”

  “That poor girl. You know what she remembers? She doesn’t remember much between the madness and the Lithium, but she remembers the Singing Blade Lullaby.”

  “That’s the poem about intelligent sword that—”

  “Yeah, the poem is Singing Blade. The Singing Blade Lullaby is an excerpt from the poem, where the blade was trying to mislead the guy that stole it. Here.” She put her hands on Visor’s temples.

  A young Sorana, perhaps fifteen, sat on the edge of her bed. She had puffy eyes, as from a recent cry. But she looked relaxed now, swaying gently in the embrace of Mercy.

  Mercy rocked her child, singing a lullaby:

  Don’t speak with strangers

  They are only there to harm you

  Don’t dream of lovers

  They will only abandon you

  Don’t close your eyes

  Only nightmares lie behind them

  Ranie shook her head in disgust. “Sorana never had a chance.”

  “Well, what do you think about a chance to help Sorana and Evan at the same time?”

  Quenton sat up at attention. “What do you mean?”

  Visor said, “First I need to ask Evan. Ranie, can you link me to Evan?”

  Ranie put one hand on Evan’s forehead.

  Visor thought words. Evan, I’m planning to have Mercy scan you. Do you know what that means?

  Evan thought, You’re going to put me in a crystal.

  Yes, at least for a time. In the best case, you may be able to survive the disease. I can’t explain it all right now. I just need you to understand that the chance of the best case is fairly small. There is also going to be a physical risk for some of us.

  Are you going to hurt Ranie? Put me in her?

  I can’t tell you that.

  Then it’s you. No, I don’t want either of you to get hurt for me.

  I really think that the chance is worth it. You could be made healthier—perhaps completely healed. Others would be better off, too. If I understand things right, no one should die—well, not really.

  Whatever, Donnie. You’re going to do what you want anyway, so why ask me? Just do it.

  I really think it is the best thing. Okay, let’s break.

  Visor stood. “Quenton, I need to show Ranie something outside. When she comes back, I’ll need for you to help wait on her. For this to work, Ranie will not be able to break concentration, at all, for a long period. Is that cool?”

  “Yeah, sure. No problem.”

  “It will probably be a few minutes before we get started if you need to take a break while waiting.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  The pseudo conjoins went outside and found a private spot in a dense portion of the nut-bearing trees that hid the tower.

  Ranie said, “I take it we can talk freely here.”

  “I hope it wasn’t that obvious to everyone.”

  “You don’t trust the witch?”

  “It’s not a matter of trust. I can’t explain it just yet.”

  “If you don’t want her to hear, why not just talk through my link?”

  “That wouldn’t be sufficient. Ranie, I need you to do something. I need you to do it not because you understand it, but because you trust me and because you want to help Evan.”

  “You know I do.”

  “You will also have an opportunity to do someth
ing that I know is important to you personally.”

  “How will I know what to do?”

  “You’ll figure it out at the time. Don’t worry. I know you’re smart enough to do this.”

  “Okay.”

  “Here is your part. You will wait here. Soon, you will see Sorana and Rapture leave the tower. You can just watch them. If they see you, you can join them. It’s not over if they see you, but it is safer to stay hidden. If you do sit with them, don’t drink anything they have. And see that they do drink. They’ll go to sleep. I need you to watch over them. I should be out soon after that, and I can explain things to you then.”

  “I see.”

  “If I don’t come out, then I need you to get Rapture back to the sanctuary. It would be good if you could get Sorana to go with you, too. You can’t go into the tower if I don’t come get you.”

  “What about the others?”

  “If I don’t come out, there would be no point in worrying about the others. They might come out on their own, but don’t go in after them. The most likely result is that I will be out for the girls—no problem.”

  “Donnie, how long should I wait?”

  “I don’t want to tell you. The less you know now, the safer you are.”

  “Donnie, are you going to die tonight?”

  “I can’t say.”

  “Donnie, I trust you, but I can’t be part of that without understanding why.”

  “You will understand why before you have to take any action. You can’t know now.”

  “Did you just lie to Quenton?”

  “No. I will tell you this much, then, if it’ll make you feel better. I will need you to link with Evan, and at some point, I’ll initiate a link with you, and I need you to accept it.”

  “What? Donnie, what?”

  “I will initiate a link to you. You need to receive it. Then your part will come.”

  “I see.” She looked over the forest. “Donnie, am I …. There is an alternate Dodelige sub-theory that Mortal Banshee and Pale Siren the same person—that two creatures of the Meta Realm share a single host. I’d always dismissed it in the past, but with everything that’s happened, with the possibility of the cognitive emergence, I can’t dismiss it outright anymore. Is it me?”