by Jamie Hawke
Something grunted behind me and I turned to see a large pig staring me down. At first, I thought nothing of this. It was a dream. A pig in a dream wasn’t normal for me, but not a big deal, either.
Another step, and then more grunting came, sloshing, and I realized the pig was charging for me. My legs couldn’t move fast enough, and in a matter of seconds—as my first foot lifted to go for the fence—the pig slammed into my stable leg, knocking it out from under me. I landed in the mud with a sucking sound, tasting it in my mouth like shit and grass and rotten oranges. Then the pig was there again, coming right at me.
Scrambling to get out of the way, one thought hit me as hard as a kick from Ebrill in the nuts—this wasn’t a fucking dream.
No dream I’d ever had felt so real. Tasting the shit in the mud? Feeling the ache in the back of my leg where that Mr. Bacon had rammed into me? This wasn’t right. I managed to reach the fence, kick back, and catch the pig on the snout with enough momentum to push myself over.
This time I landed with a thud on mud-splattered dirt and grass, where I lay staring up at the orange-speckled sky for a few moments. Wake the fuck up, I told myself over and over, that voice in the back of my head arguing each time that it wasn’t a dream. But it had to be one, because how the hell else could this make sense?
A voice sounded. A figure blocked out the sky and then there was another. Both were speaking in a harsh tongue I didn’t understand. One knelt down, sniffed me, touched my shirt, and shouted something.
Starting to freak out, I closed my eyes, again willing myself to wake up, or at least understand what the hell was going on.
Suddenly, their words made sense—not like they were speaking English, but like I could tell what they were saying even without really understanding. My powers, like with Ebrill, I imagined… although my powers had never worked in a dream.
“… men aren’t fucking witches!” the first man said, who I could now see was older, with a gray mustache and peppered, long hair.
“Do you not see his clothes? His… his everything! A fucking witch, I tell you!”
It only hit me then that, maybe, just maybe, this was the same way I had been communicating with Ebrill. Now that I thought about it and had something to reference it against, her voice had this similar sensation to it, as if my mind were converting her language, and mine to hers.
If that was true, I could respond to these guys.
“I’m not a witch,” I said, interrupting the second one’s argument about burning me.
Both turned to me, eyes narrowing. Now even the older one nodded as he said, “Damn, you’re right. A fucking witch.”
“No, I—”
A thud hit me, and I was out. I would have thought that would be it, that the pain would end the nightmare. Nope. Instead I faded in and out, groggily processing being dragged across the ground, tied up in the barn, and left there while the men went off to fetch someone.
As annoying as the rope was on my wrist, this at least gave me time to think. By this point, I had accepted that it wasn’t a dream. Maybe someone was using magic to get into my head? I wouldn’t put it past Steph and whoever she was working with, not after the way she had betrayed me. So, this was clearly some ruse to get me to give up information, or maybe my body was sleep-walking through it, opening the door to invite the demons in again.
Whatever it was, I needed to keep my wits about me. Play it smart.
All of that thinking went out the window, though, when I noticed a small head and beady little eyes watching me from a rafter above. It vanished in a flash of little wings, leaving me to wonder how including a fairy in this little mind-fuck helped their cause. In any other situation that might have completely thrown me, but since my body was currently being cuddled by a gargoyle and I’d been fighting witches and death knights, maybe not so much right now.
What did throw me was when a set of yellow, snake-like eyes set in a green, goblin face appeared directly in front of me, glaring. Its skin was wrinkled and leathery, teeth pointed and black, and breath like the inside of a dead rat’s intestines.
“This one?” the goblin asked, close enough to lick my cheek, but thank God he didn’t. “Let’s see if we can’t get it out of him.”
He was nude aside from a belt with a loincloth, but pulled out a serrated dagger from the back of his belt, holding it at my neck, letting the cold steel test my resolve.
“So, boy, which coven do you belong to?”
I stared back, not showing any weakness, resolved to find a way out of this. Clearly, denying being a witch wasn’t going to work, and as I had recently found out, I actually was one. No point in lying. But I didn’t belong to a coven.
His blade bit me, surely drawing blood.
“District of Colombia,” I blurted out. “And it’s a big fucking coven, too.”
The goblin snarled and leaned in, licking his lips. “Fucking?”
Realizing my mistake in language choice, I rolled with it. “All the time. Witches, so many witches who want to fuck. Cast spells, take a break to fuck. Have dinner, then a nice fuck. It’s tough being a witch, sometimes.”
He chuckled but then glared again, as if remembering himself. “Why is it that I haven’t heard of this District of Columbia coven?”
“Ask him,” a dark, hissing voice demanded.
The goblin froze, clearly terrified of whatever it was that had spoken, then brought the knife up to my eye, pointy end right at the edge so that it was too blurry to focus on. “You belong to such a big fucking coven, you’ll know, won’t you? You’ll know where the Liahona is.”
“I don’t—” The knife pinched my eyelid and I cursed.
“The Liahona,” the creature snarled. “Tell me, or you lose this eye first. Then your other, followed by your tongue—”
“If you cut out my tongue, how would I tell you where it is?”
“You’d walk me to it, you nasty shit!”
Mocking the little guy probably wasn’t the best move, as his eyes had just slanted into a mischievous glare, the knife twisting. Clearly, I still had no idea what a Liahona was, but since everyone kept asking about it, the thing must have been important.
“Taking you is the only way,” I blurted out, not sure what to do, but knowing that would buy me time. “There’s a magical barrier set up. It needs me to go through, to take it down.”
“He’s lying,” the voice said, and the goblin shook its head, then laughed. It pulled its blade back, licked its teeth, and plunged.
In that moment, though, I used my elemental strike to freeze my bonds and break through them, then catch him with an ice punch to the elbow as I threw my head out of the way of his blade. The result was that his arm froze and snapped in two from my punch, then shattered on the ground.
The goblin shrieked, staring in confusion. I didn’t stay to find out what would happen next, knowing that I didn’t want to meet his colleague.
Charging out of there, I emerged to find myself surrounded by large tents, lines of them, and fires beyond. Big warriors with shades of green and even purple skin were throwing back drinks while others practiced swordplay.
I didn’t waste any time wondering where I was, simply darted left and ducked under a large oak, out of the light of the nearest fire. Where I was supposed to go, I had no idea, but I knew I didn’t belong here. Shouts sounded from behind and I threw myself to the ground, hoping they wouldn’t see me. The cold night was so dark it was almost impossible to see anything. I pressed low, branches and rocks scraping my forearms, and crawled away from the camp as fast as possible, only stopping when I noticed eyes staring at me from the darkness ahead.
Heart racing, I froze, hoping whoever was out there hadn’t spotted me. Two seconds later, a flash of steel caught my attention, then more. Forms were moving. A sudden roar filled the night and they were up and charging. My gut clenched and my hands shook as I started to push up, but they charged past me, drawing their weapons. They weren’t coming for me at all, I realized, throwing myse
lf down next to a tree, but storming the camp!
I saw one man coming from my left so went to go right, when I slammed into the side of a charging horse, fell back, and whacked my head on a tree.
Any hint of light that had been there a moment before faded. When the noise of my harsh, wheezing breathing woke me, and then the darkness faded, I realized that someone was talking.
“Thank you, Irla,” a voice said in a whisper. “You’re sure he’s one of ours?”
“Only what I was told,” Irla replied.
“A witch?”
I processed someone approaching and blinked as my vision cleared. As far as I knew, I had a concussion and needed medical attention. Instead, I was on a thick blanket on a stone floor, this woman staring down at me. Again, I blinked, and this time I made out that she was petite and wore a gown of purple, cinched around the waist by a cord-style belt. Her fiery red hair was pulled back, and she eyed me with very blue eyes.
“You’re not with us,” she said, starting to turn.
“You can’t just leave me here,” I mumbled.
With a glance back, she scoffed, “Can’t I?”
“The Liahona,” I blurted out, taking a gamble. “If you leave me here, they’ll get it instead of you.”
That caught her attention. “You… know?”
I nodded. “And my goal is to keep them away from it. So…”
Another moment of thought, and then she was back at my side, first looking at my shirt, then kneeling to run her fingers along my jeans. “What are these clothes you’re wearing?”
The answer to that question was simple, but complicated. For one, would telling her that I was from the future mess with her head, or threaten to ruin my time? The question in itself was flawed, because while this had many similarities to a medieval time of my past, there were goblin creatures and other things here, I imagined. For all I knew, I was learning that my past had these, as my present—their future—had gargoyles and demons. What I had always thought might be an aspect of my imagination was actually magic, it turned out, and my aunt was part of some magic plot where an enemy group was trying to find something before her, or she was hiding it. Frankly, nothing was simple anymore.
Instead of giving her an answer, I responded with a question. “Who are you?”
She frowned, hand still on my leg, and said, “Aerona.”
I nodded, glancing at her hand on my leg, then back up at her captivating eyes, wondering what exactly was happening here and what the purpose of this whole experience was. Before I had a chance to find my answers, though, it all started to fade.
“He’s leaving us,” Irla said, as I felt my body fading.
A glance down confirmed this, just as a third woman entered the room. There was something special about this one, though. Somehow, I knew her.
Tall, slender, wearing a red robe drawn around her shoulders to cover the gold-plated armor beneath. Wavy black hair fell over her left shoulder. Her eyes met mine, and then I knew.
“Ebrill?” I asked, her eyes widening in surprise as I was pulled out from that world.
79
My eyes sprang open, staring into Ebrill’s closed ones.
“Was it you? Were you there?”
Only, she wasn’t moving. She was stone.
Shit, it was daytime. She had not only turned to stone but was still lying on me, arm draped over me in a way that made moving her off very awkward. In the process, I accidentally grazed her boob, only to realize how stupid a thing that was to be concerned about. She happened to be stone, it wasn’t exactly the same as when she was in the flesh.
I would have to wait until nightfall to ask her about my crazy experience, apparently. How had she gotten from that strange place to where we were now? She had been human, or, actually, now that I thought about it, her ears might have been unusually pointed. Was she an elf or something similar, once upon a time? My mind was spinning with questions, my nerves rattled with the thought that I couldn’t have my answers yet.
Even when night fell, for all I knew, she still wouldn’t remember.
I headed for the bathroom. My limbs were stiff, my bladder full, and morning wood raged like a motherfucker. Apparently, that happens when being cuddled by a hot gargoyle and going back in time to see her and other beautiful women as… elves? The thoughts were hitting me now that I was awake, and it all sounded so much crazier.
In a world where I’d been told I was crazy for thinking I could alter my surroundings with my mind, to finding out it was magic and there was so much more… did time travel via sleep seem so out there? Fuck it, I decided. Might as well go with the flow and see where it took me. Speaking of flow, damn, did I have to piss. I entered the bathroom, did my best not to make a mess, and then decided to wash off the sweat that had soaked right through the back of my shirt last night.
A result of the dreams, or travel, perhaps? Meaning, my body had likely stayed here, while my mind did some crazy astral projection shit. Or… something like that. Who knew?
I undressed to take a shower, pausing at the thought that Ebrill was lying right there on the bed. Damn, the way her loincloth fell back to reveal her ass was hot, and to think she had been sleeping next to me, curled up against me! Checking out a statue… an odd moment, for sure.
At least I didn’t have to worry about her sneaking a peek, although it wasn’t like that really would have been a negative. Her being awake in this scenario was by far my preferred choice. As I stripped and stepped into the shower, I kept imagining her shedding the stone as she had the night before and then stepping in to join me. Shampoo cascaded down my face and I closed my eyes, instead imagining her as the elf lady version of herself. Both were sexy in their way.
I was very confused about all of this. My aunt had died on my first night in Washington, D.C. Not some fantasy land, not some place where elves or gargoyles existed, and certainly not a world where it made sense for a girlfriend to suddenly become a demon with her own little evil army.
Speaking of which, I wondered why I didn’t hear any attacks. They had to know Ebrill was a gargoyle and would be asleep during the day, so this would be the best time to attack. I finished rinsing and dried off on my way to the bedroom window to pull the curtains aside and have a look.
It had to be midday, or at least late morning, judging by the angle of the sun. There were no attacks, no walls of fire or even burnt trees. Everything looked so… ordinary. Aside from the sleeping, stone gargoyle in my bed—creating a massive indentation in the mattress, I noticed—it was as if none of the night before had happened.
“Will you need breakfast?” a voice said, and my head jerked up as I realized at once that I had dropped my towel, and that Fatiha, the servant lady, stood in the doorway, staring with an amused smile.
“Yes, please.” I played it cool, as if this were normal, although in my head I was shrieking, covering myself, and running into the bathroom.
She nodded, gave my package another glance, and walked off. “It will be ready in the…” She paused as she turned back. This time, her eyes went to the bed, instead. “Oh. I see you, er, made a new friend.”
“The statue?”
When her eyes met mine, the smile gone. I had no doubt that she knew Ebrill was more than a statue. “Where is Gertrude this morning?”
“That…” My hands finally moved to cover myself, finding it much more awkward when she wasn’t checking me out, for some reason. “Do you mind if I dress, first?”
An intense sorrow filled her eyes as she apparently took my meaning from those words. She nodded and stepped away as she added, “Tell me over breakfast.”
My heart thudded as I pulled on my boxer briefs and pants, found one of my remaining three clean shirts, and headed downstairs. Was it wrong that I’d first paused to give Ebrill a kiss on the cheek? Maybe weird… I don’t know, but I wanted to thank her for saving me the night before, and even though I knew she wouldn’t feel it, the action felt right.
Fatiha was sitt
ing with a rigid posture at one end of the table, toast and a jar of orange marmalade in front of her. My setting included a cup of coffee, orange juice, and a plate with sausage patties and eggs. Now that it was before me and the scent of those sausages and the coffee reached my nose, I realized how hungry I was and dove in.
When I’d eaten half of the plateful, the lady finally cleared her throat.
I looked up, finished chewing, and set my fork down. About to tell her everything, I paused for a gulp of coffee, but she held a hand up.
“I’m going to fill you in, and tell you what I assume happened last night,” she started. “Feel free to tell me when I get something wrong. In case you don’t recall, I am Fatiha, and I was your aunt’s closest friend. Sometimes, maybe more. But, that’s not important. What you need to know, and probably already have an inkling about, is that your aunt was much more than you originally thought. She was the Searcher, the one my order had hoped would find the Liahona, an ancient item of great magical importance.”
At the mention of the Liahona, I blinked, and she noticed. For a moment we stared at each other, and then I said, “That’s not the first time I’ve heard that word.”
“Gertrude mentioned it?”
“Before, and…” I shook my head. “I mean, as stupid as it sounds, a dream.”
Her eyes took on an intense fascination and her hand shook as it moved for the marmalade. She took a small spoonful, and used the back of it to spread the marmalade on the bread. “And the… gargoyle?”
“Last night, we were under attack. I woke her.”
Fatiha’s hand froze in place, marmalade on half of the bread. “And in the dream?”
“How…?” I started but nodded.
“Gertrude is dead, then.”
Again, I nodded.
She set aside the spoon, eyes staring blankly, then picked up the bread and took a bite. Just bread, no marmalade. She chewed slowly, blinked, and seemed to remember that I was there.
“Where?” she asked. “Where is Gertrude?”
“About that.” I took another chug of my coffee. “I can show you where she was.”
