by Ramy Vance
Anabelle continued to pore over the question as she concentrated on her breathing. The Path of the Lost offered strength, a wild abandonment of power drawn from losing yourself in battle, but it hadn't been useful against an effective defense.
Defeating Grok had required brute force. The Dark One had required the combined energy of more than the DGA, and Rasputina had never truly been subdued.
Maybe the Path of the Lost wasn't enough, simply another tool in a list—one she should not rely on.
Anabelle remembered the strength Terra had shown without accessing that power. She made a promise to herself not to depend too heavily on the Path. There were other tactics to be learned and practiced. Even Sarah still played with her guns, knowing full well she could eviscerate anyone in front of her with her hands.
But that was not what was really on Anabelle's mind. It was a pleasant distraction from what was gnawing at her.
The Dark Melody was a substance created from the decaying bodies of the old gods who existed in the Netherverse. The Dark One had harnessed the Dark Melody for his own infernal uses. Luckily, he had been caught at the beginning stages of that particular tactic in his evil plans, and the Dark Gate Angels had managed to destroy what little of it had made it out of the Netherverse.
The Netherverse Gates had been destroyed. How the hell had anyone smuggled more of the Dark Melody out of a place that couldn’t be accessed throughout any of the Nine Realms?
There was a simple answer; it was obviously old. The Dark One had used multiple backend channels to move the Dark Melody throughout the Nine Realms. It had initially been discovered on the gnome world. It wasn't too big a stretch to believe it could have been smuggled onto Earth.
Anabelle didn't pretend to understand the complex criminal network that Sarah had made it her mission to root out. Human crime was already difficult for Anabelle to understand. Coupled with a handful of opportunists looking to take advantage of the sudden influx of magic coming to Earth, she could imagine a magical group trying to make a profit off selling humans something they didn't understand.
The mob boss hadn't even been human, and the bomb had been created by someone with an understanding of magic and technology that could be used in tandem with it. That was more than most humans knew anything about, let alone mobsters without an extremely well-funded science department.
Anabelle almost felt bad for humanity. Earth had to go through so many changes. They'd managed to deal with all the superficial ones, adding simple gestures to welcome their new interdimensional guests and providing guidance on the cultures of the other races. All good stuff, but the humans weren't ready for the complications that would come with these new visitors.
And Anabelle knew humans.
They had a capacity for violence that made orcs look like pacifists. The biggest problem was that they lacked the nobility of orcs, something humans didn't grasp yet.
Anabelle couldn't help but laugh. She would never have thought she'd be worrying about humans.
But she was.
One in particular occupied her mind: Roy.
She hadn't seen him in days. They'd both been wrapped up in work. He was now the head of Interdimensional Policing, a position Anabelle had turned down. Seeing how much time he spent buried under paperwork, she was more than happy with her decision.
There was a knock on Anabelle's door. She opened her eyes, letting them adjust to the light. "Come in."
Her door slid open, and Terra stepped in. "Okay, so what the hell was that all about?"
Anabelle stood and went to her fridge, poured herself a cup of water, and grabbed a beer for Terra. "What are you talking about?"
"Crab Boy gave us a huge run for our money, which makes absolutely no sense since we fucked the shit out of the Dark One. Yet here we are, having troubles with middlemen mob bosses? The Hand of the Orcs spent twenty minutes tap-dancing with Crab Legs."
"You know he had tentacles, right? Not crab legs."
Terra cracked her beer and sat on Anabelle's bed. "His nautical parts weren’t worth remembering. Seriously, Anna, what the fuck? I thought we were badasses?"
"You can't chop down a tree with a hammer."
Terra took a sip of her beer and pointed it at Anabelle accusingly. "You know I hate it when you get all Bruce Lee on me. What are you trying to say?"
Anabelle leaned against her desk. "A tool that works for one purpose doesn't mean it works for all. Maybe we needed a Path to take care of Grok and the Dark One. We shouldn't rely on one skill to deal with everything we come across."
"That's easy for you and Sarah to say. You have the Path of a Traveler, and Sarah's a trained assassin who can kill anyone in six different ways. All I can do is scrap. It's not the same."
A hologram of Abby and Martin projected from Terra’s and Anabelle's wrist HUDs.
Terra screamed in surprise and rolled off of the bed. "Jesus, Abby, you're supposed to send us an email or something when you're going to do something invasive like that."
Abby shook her head, and Martin did the same. "Nope. Ruins the fun. We need you two to come down to the Tech and Magic department. Martin and us, I guess. That’s probably the only time that's sounded awkward. Anyways, we need you to come here. There's something you should see."
Anabelle drained her water and placed the cup on her desk. She was always happy to see Abby in her element. Taking charge was a good look on the kid. "We'll be there in a second."
Abby disappeared, leaving Terra and Anabelle alone. "We'll finish our heart-to-heart later," Anabelle said. "But remember what I said. Think about it."
Terra waved away her words as she walked toward the door. "Yeah, yeah, I got it. Don't try to water a garden with a plant."
"Yeah, you definitely got it."
In the Tech & Magic workroom, Abby and Creon had their own section, separate from the rest of the department. It was here the two of them worked on their experiments, many of them off the record. The faint of heart were advised never to visit. The area was known for a variety of explosions.
Tea and cookies were ready for the two agents when they arrived.
Terra looked suspiciously at the food and drink. "When did you two go all Victorian?"
Abby, who was munching on a cookie, leaned over to see if Creon was down the hall. "He's been trying to get into human culture more, and unfortunately, he's on a Jane Austen kick. Don't get us wrong, she's great, but we can only deal with so much bland food."
Terra took a seat and sipped a cup of tea. "Some people would say the British have very nuanced palates."
Anabelle broke her cookie in half and watched it crumble. "Eh, I'd say they might want to look up the definition of nuanced."
Abby took a bite of her cookie and washed it down with tea. "Regardless, don't be a dick about it to him. It's the only human thing he’s taken an interest in."
Creon walked into the room as Terra was about to say something. Anabelle thought she looked like she had a mouth full of food as she tried to swallow her retort. "Good to see you all here," Creon said as he settled at his desk. "You don't stop by as much since you don't need a world-saving solution as often."
Anabelle sighed as she checked her makeup. "Creon, we went out to dinner last week."
"True, perhaps, but I still enjoy a visit to the office. But Abby and I didn't ask that you come here to go over the amount of time you are expected to visit your friends."
Abby, Anabelle, and Terra exchanged knowing glances. "Well, what are we here for?" Terra asked.
Abby brought up a hologram of the vial they had retrieved from Trident's bomb. "We ran a series of tests on the Dark Melody we found. It isn't old. This is brand new."
Terra shook her head as she continued to poke at a cookie, only stopping when Anabelle hissed at her. "That's impossible. The Netherverse Gates are closed. There's no in or out. Myrddin said so himself."
"True, that was what Myrddin said, but my research shows it can't be true. This has been carbon-dated and stu
died alongside every bit of the Dark Melody we have. It was mined within the last two weeks."
Anabelle crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair. "Do we have reports of it showing up anywhere else?"
"We went through all of the reports for the last year. This is the first case of Dark Melody since we shut down the gates."
Anabelle didn't like the news, but it seemed straightforward enough. Someone had found a way into the Netherverse, and whoever it was intended to weaponize the Dark Melody. "Well, what's the big problem? We neutralize it with your nanobots like we did before, then we find whoever is responsible for this and lock 'em up. They can't be too high-level if they're working with humans. No offense."
Terra slammed her fist on the table. "I take offense on principle but also agree. Humans haven't had time to get a grip on any of this. If someone is working with humans, they're obviously willing to risk dealing with a huge learning curve."
Abby shook her head. "No, we think differently. It's probably someone banking on the fact that we're going to think this is too mid-level for us. It could be someone trying to make a name for themselves, or it could be something much worse."
Silence enveloped the room. Anabelle knew what everyone was thinking—the same thing that was running through her head. She shuddered. What if the new peace was a lie? If her fears were true, it meant everything they'd put themselves through had been for nothing.
Terra broke the silence. "He can't be back. We killed him."
Anabelle shook her head. "No, you remember what Myrddin said at Sarah's wedding."
Terra waved away the elf’s words. "Oh, Myrddin always expects the worst. He's been fighting this war for the last thousand years. He's probably not ready to give it up."
"You doubt the person who knows the enemy the best?"
Terra's eyes dropped, avoiding Anabelle's. "It's supposed to be over. We finished it."
"What if we didn't?"
Abby, Anabelle, and Terra avoided looking at each other. Creon, on the other hand, stared at them all. "Haven't you been bored anyway? Isn't this the challenge you've been waiting for?"
Terra summed up everything Anabelle felt. "We gave it everything we had, and it still wasn't enough to stop him. What if we can't?"
No one could answer.
Chapter Six
Terra waited for Anabelle and Abby in the transportation hangar. She was pacing, not because she was nervous but because there was nothing else to do. For some reason, she'd woken up earlier than she'd planned.
She'd spent the morning in the cafeteria, responding to the backlog of messages and requests she’d received since she took on the mission in New York.
Imagining the amount of paperwork she would have had if she still had the position of chieftain to all the orcs blew her mind. She hardly had anything to answer as the Hand to the Council. Most of the busywork she had to fill out was for Myrddin, and it looked like it would take the rest of the week and the weekend as well.
Guess I'm not taking any leave this week.
If she were honest, the paperwork was a pleasant distraction. It gave her something to look at other than the news.
There weren't many people with whom Terra had remained in contact since she joined the DGA. Not that she didn’t have friends before. It was just that her life had so suddenly and drastically changed since she had been abducted by the orcs and dragged to the arena to fight for her life.
The few she still talked to were constantly bombarding her with questions about the other races. Even though Terra wasn't involved with the human race like she had been, she was able to pick up on the anxiety the planet was feeling.
It was an odd sensation. That was one of the reasons Terra was avoiding the news. Still, you’d have to live in a cave to miss it all, and she'd caught wind of a few stories.
There was unrest.
Lots.
She didn't know the extent of it, but she had a fairly good idea.
Terra had been the public face for the Myrddin Initiative—the public's given name, not Myrddin's—since her fights had been broadcast from the arena. She'd enjoyed her time away from the public eye, but that time had come to an end. Now the entire DGA would be in front of the camera.
Surprisingly, Terra wasn't worried about Anabelle. The elf had come a long way since Terra met her. Whatever Anabelle had witnessed in New York, maybe even before then, had changed her opinion of humans.
Abby was Terra's main concern. An all-American girl drafted into a war across the Nine Realms who’d sacrificed part of her humanity for a cause humans didn't quite understand could easily be flipped and given a negative spin.
Terra was mulling all this over when Abby and Anabelle walked into the hangar, followed by Myrddin. The wizard was lecturing them on talking points, not that Anabelle seemed to care. She was obviously not listening. Abby, on the other hand, was hanging on his every word.
Terra had to laugh. She had no idea why she was worried about any of this. Both of them were going to do great. If anything, Terra should have been worried about herself. She was the one with the big mouth.
Once Terra and the rest of the DGA got to the studio, it was business as usual, but the particulars were a complete surprise to Abby.
Makeup artists gushed over the girl’s natural beauty. They lavished compliment after compliment on her as they played with her hair and did her makeup and ran back and forth to pick out outfits they thought she'd look good in.
Initially, Abby wasn't receptive to any of it, particularly about having her hair touched. Eventually, she came around. Terra assumed the compliments had worn her down.
The former gladiator watched the madness in the green room as she munched on a cheese and meat plate left for them. Once the makeup artists left, Abby whirled around in her chair, giggling loudly before stopping and looking at herself in the mirror. "Can you believe this? We've never had anyone do our makeup before. This is how they pampered you, Terra? You were making it sound like you were being martyred."
Anabelle took a seat next to Terra and popped a piece of cheese into her mouth expertly, careful not to smear her lipstick. "Don't get too comfortable. This is mostly a ploy to get you to lower your guard. The real shit show is when they start asking questions."
Abby was hardly listening. "Why would they put this much work into making us look this good if they were going to be jerks to us?"
Anabelle and Terra smiled at each other. "Oh, if that's the case, you can take the first round of questions," the elf offered.
Abby wheeled her chair over to the table of treats. "We're not falling for that. You two can do all the talking. We’ll just keep our feet out of our mouth."
Terra couldn't help being proud as she watched the girl. She'd once asked herself if she would have been able to accomplish what Abby had at her age. The answer was fairly obvious. Terra could see that Abby was a special kind of person. She hadn't needed years to mature into her position. Instead, she'd let the position mature her, stepping up whenever she was needed and sacrificing what she thought she had to. Her parents would have been proud of her. Terra sure as hell was.
It was a panel show where three different opinions were being debated.
Another panelist was a dwarf named Nigel, a stuffy male with a tightly groomed beard and gray eyes. His co-panelist was Meredith, an elf who was nearly as striking as Anabelle. They were strictly anti-integration.
The final opinion was provided by the human host, Derek Withers, an elderly nebbish with a flat nose and large glasses. He was supposed to take a moderate, centered view of things.
Derek introduced the guests to the audience. It was polite enough, but the introduction was the last bit of civility in the whole affair. As soon as they sat down, the barrage began.
"So, tonight, our esteemed guests from the Myrddin Initiative are meeting with—"
Withers was interrupted by Meredith, who politely cleared her throat, murder in her eyes. "I think the fact that the initiative is named
after one man sums up the very issue with it: an individual pushing an agenda and mindless drones following it."
Anabelle and Abby were taken aback by Meredith's claim, and neither of them answered. Terra shook her head, already irritated with the direction the interview was taking.
Terra leaned forward and spoke into the microphone. "Okay, first off, we didn’t choose the name of the initiative. It was given to us by Earth's diplomats. Second, we aren't serving in an official capacity, merely facilitating the directives that have been given to us."
Nigel sniffed loudly. "And we are to believe that? What it looks like to most of the other races is an aggressive campaign by humans to begin infiltrating the Nine Realms and staking their claim."
Withers tapped his mic to redirect the attention of the debaters. "Why are you claiming that? Humanity has its own issues, given the onslaught of other races that have poured into our country and our world. Many are saying that orcs are taking jobs that many humans could be working instead, and elves are—"
Meredith sneered. "What jobs would humans have that elves would want?"
"Well, what do you have to say about the recent rise in crime since orcs started to travel to the human realm?"
Abby and Anabelle both looked helplessly at Terra, who folded her hands in the most aggressive fashion as possible. "That statement is pure anti-orc rhetoric. The orc diplomats have records of each orc traveling legally or illegally to this realm, and there have been no reports of aggression toward humans by any human authorities. Read the papers, not the tabloids or the bloated press conferences of the President."
This shut everybody up for a moment.
Withers cleared his throat. "Are you saying our president is an idiot?"
