Myth's Legend: Norrix

by Ysobella Black

  Norrix had met sirens before, but he didn’t want to dampen the Fae’s contagious enthusiasm. Maybe a break and change of scenery would spark a new idea. “All right.”

  “Yes!” Alaric held a hand up for a high-five and wiggled his fingers. “You know you want to.”

  Clasping his hands behind his back, Norrix laughed. “It’s not nice to try and trick me. I have trouble with my memory, but I know not to fall for that.”

  One of Requiescere’s rules for Alaric was no one was to touch his upraised hand, no matter how often the Fae repeated the gesture. He did it without knowing why and at first had been crushed when no one reciprocated. To explain, the Ildum told him they had a bet — whoever touched his hand lost all their money.

  Alaric loved the idea and made it his mission to give everyone the chance to lose the bet every chance he got. Now he dropped his hand, a beatific smile of pure joy on his lips. “I’ll get one of you someday. Wait and see.”

  Norrix sincerely hoped he never Witnessed that. He followed Alaric through the compound, an enormous modernized structure that rivaled the largest of palaces, built around the rocky fortress the Ildum had lived in before the massacre. Brought halfway across the world by strygoi magic, their home had settled into a cliff on the edge of a continent and overlooked the sea.

  This part of the compound was undecorated, his library the only thing on the entire floor in this wing. A marble staircase led down to the next floor, more staggered flights continued down inside the earth to a series of caves that served as sun-free bedrooms, and ended in a series of tunnels that wound down even farther, to the dungeon, caches of food and weapons, and ultimately to a grotto that opened to the sea.

  Faint silver magic glowed from the walls and ceiling, illuminating the black water and steps carved from rock on one wall.

  “Karov!” One hand raised, the Fae darted ahead to greet the Ninja, where he waited at the bottom of the stairs.

  The end of Karov’s black braid brushed the ground as he turned. Dressed all in black and wearing tabi boots, he crossed his arms and eyed Alaric’s upraised hand with amusement in his black eyes. “What have I told you about trying that with me?”

  “We don’t need to talk about that.” Alaric whipped his hand behind him and stage-whispered to Norrix. “He said he would give me a high-five if he chopped off my hand first.”

  Karov believed in making his point more effectively with something sharp.

  The yacht slid into the cavern on a surge of the sea. Vampires, creatures bound closely to the earth, had no use for an ocean that sapped their strength, and up to this point, had no need for a boat, or a place to keep one. The best they could do for now was moor the vessel to the rough-hewn stone steps.

  It was part of the lunacy a strygoi wrought on the orderly life of her vampire that Stryx willingly traveled across the ocean, and with sunrise so close. Moving comfortably on the deck, shoulder-length black hair windblown, tall, muscular frame in his usual magic-enhanced black tactical clothing, their Esag and could-be King tossed buffers over the side, then a rope.

  Norrix caught and pulled the rope taut as something jumped from the deck to the stairs in front of Alaric.

  “What the fuck is that?” The Fae stumbled back as the dog bounded to land with his front paws... hands on Alaric’s shoulders.

  “We found him on the Eel Mage’s island.” Ember, red hair wild, took Stryx’s arm, hiked up her formal dress, and climbed from the boat. The bruises forming on her pale skin would match her black and blue dress. “We couldn’t leave him there by himself. It looks like the mage was experimenting on him, using magic to force him to protect the island where he was imprisoned.”

  Karov reached down to help the siren to the stairs. Her green-black hair almost covered the scar around her neck where she’d been collared. The dog licked Alaric’s face. He shoved at the creature and held out a hand to fend off further attempts.

  Slipping to all fours, the dog tilted his head sideways to regard the outstretched hand, then took two steps forward, lifted his tail and smacked his palm into Alaric’s.

  The dog had a human hand on the end of his tail. Norrix blinked and dropped the rope he’d been tying off. He staggered, bracing one hand on the side of the cave as over ten thousand years of memories assailed his mind, all out of order and appearing simultaneously.

  Two of Cerberus’ heads snarled, lips pulled back to reveal sharp fangs, while his third head watched, tongue lolling.

  An enormous dog with a snake for a tail. Surma.

  Simargl, a winged, silver-furred dog, chained to a star.

  Fenrir the wolf, tricked and bound, with a sword forcing his mouth open.

  Slavering jaws in a huge black dog. Barghest.

  Closing his eyes, Norrix concentrated, trying to focus. Taken off guard, an unusual occurrence could trigger a cascade that left him stunned for hours. The beginning... He had to find the beginning. It was the only way to put things in order and control what he saw. He snatched at fragments of recollection as they roiled through him.

  A man with a curly beard wearing a horned cap, clay tablet and stylus in his hands, waiting to write down everything Norrix told him. But he’d not been called Norrix then. He was... no, that way was madness. And this man was Nabu. Not the beginning.

  A woman held Norrix in her arms, offering the first touch he’d felt in... he couldn’t remember, and it was dangerous to try. A man with dark blue eyes and fangs knelt in front of them, offering death — a beginning, but not the one he needed.

  A boy, angry at his mother, stormed towards a river, craving a chance to see a world bigger than the temple complex they lived in. Closer.

  Much older, but still a small boy, he stared up at a woman with green and amber eyes as she held him in her arms. Her grey clothes changed under his little hands — a tunic, then armor, then a tunic again. “You’re not supposed to be here yet. It’s not time for you to see this, Witness.”

  That was true. He’d been curious and wandered where he shouldn’t have.

  She shifted him to her back, where an even smaller boy already clung to her. He had old eyes the color of the ocean, blue-green and roiling. He grinned and scooted to one side to make room.

  The woman faced a yawning, hungry black abyss swallowing the world with nothing more than a mace and a sword with a glowing red stone in her hands. There — the end that was his start.

  Memories whirled as they settled into place, at least for the moment. He sorted through them, seeking what he knew he’d seen before.

  An orca beached itself and turned into a wolf. Akhkut.

  No... no...

  The creature wasn’t a dog. He was the size of a large wolf, and four-legged, but his front paws ended in raccoon hands, and his tail a human hand. Instead of fur, he had the rubbery hide of a dolphin. Scars on his sides showed his stay on the mage’s island hadn't been a pleasant one.

  Ahuizotl.

  Known for drowning their victims, they left the corpses with crushed bones and no eyes, teeth, or nails.

  Norrix opened his eyes in triumph and straightened, walking down a few steps to crouch in front of the creature. “He’s an ahuizotl. That’s how he’s supposed to look, minus the scars around his neck. More common to the south, in Aztlan. They like warm ponds and lakes, not cold seas. Being trapped on an island in the ocean would have been another kind of torture. We have some underground springs he might like to play in until we can find a better place for him.”

  The ahuizotl leapt up, placing his raccoon paws on Alaric’s shoulders. Hand waving excitedly on the end of his wagging tail, the dog licked Alaric’s face.

  Alaric pushed him down and backed away. “Gross. He’s all yours.” He shoved at the creature and held out a hand down at the creature’s head to fend off further attempts.

  The dog slipped to all fours and tilted his head sideways to regard Alaric’s outstretched hand, then taking two steps forward, smacked the hand on his tail into the Fae’s palm.
>
  Norrix sucked in a breath he didn’t need, sure he was going to Witness the end of the world. Again.

  Nothing happened. Maybe it was okay because Alaric’s hand was down and not up. Or maybe Requiescere was on her way to sing them into oblivion. Better not to dwell on that.

  Ember led Stryx away, following Karov and the siren. Alaric and his endless questions hurried after them. “So, did you find witches? More twin Dragăs, maybe? Do you think they’d like me? Why didn’t you bring them here?”

  Norrix smiled since Alaric couldn’t see him, but resisted the urge to laugh. No point encouraging the lovelorn, sex-addled Fae.

  “Come with me.” Norrix led the ahuizotl up the stairs but turned into the labyrinth of tunnels, rather than continuing to the main compound. “There’s not a lot down here that might interest you, but I’ll show you around.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  MYTH

  “YOU KNOW WHAT WILL happen if you fail me, Esne?” The Scorpion Mage’s eyes were white and cold as he looked down from his throne at her.

  When the other voice thundered from Iqiohr’s body, her bones had turned to ice. She hadn’t needed this demonstration to ensure she did whatever it took to do as he asked, and should have expected he would come forward with the sheer amount of magic taken today.

  Now, as the Scorpion Mage stared at her, Iqiohr’s voice was more like his, rather than one of the mages inside him. Distant eyes rather than interested meant Iqiohr was returning. She had to do whatever she could to keep Iqiohr in control. The other mages were far more dangerous to her.

  Myth nodded in answer to his question. It was the only answer that would keep him in a good mood. He didn’t like it when she disagreed with him or talked too much. If a simple yes was the answer, a silent nod was the correct response.

  He cupped her chin in his palm. “You are my favorite witch, Esne. Haven’t I always treated you well?”

  She had a better life than other witches, although she doubted it would be considered being treated well anywhere else. But she nodded again.

  “Tell me what you are going to do for me. I am trusting you with something very important. I want to make sure we don’t have a misunderstanding. I don’t like to have to punish you.”

  Myth didn’t believe that, especially of the other mages, and licked dry lips. “I’m to go to the auction in Ashana and bid on —”

  The skin at the corners of the mage’s eyes tightened just the slightest bit, but she recognized her error and the start of his irritation.

  “— win the bidding —”

  His expression relaxed.

  “— on the lot that includes the black knife and bring it to you.”

  “And what are you not to do?”

  “I’m not to mention you or say why I want the knife to anyone. I’m not to say or write anything to anyone other than about the knife, and not more than absolutely necessary to get or keep the knife.”

  “Then?”

  “I collect the knife after the auction and return to you as soon as possible.”

  “Good. Everything is already in the vault for payment. Just mention where you’re from when you arrive at the auction. I worry someone will try to take advantage of you when you are away from me, so I will have someone watching you the whole time. It’s for your protection. It doesn't mean I don’t trust you. Do you understand?” He stroked her hair as if she was a well-behaved pet.

  She couldn’t help the shiver running through her. Either Iqiohr wasn’t wholly returned or he was becoming even more like the others. If that was so, she’d lost even the fragile illusion of safety in Aztlan.

  Myth nodded.

  “I don’t know what I would do without you, my Esne.”

  She made sure he saw no signs of the tears she wanted to cry when she forced herself to smile up at him. This was another cruel game of his — offering her freedom in a place where safety was guaranteed, all the while knowing she would return to him.

  “Good, Esne.” He stroked her hair again, adding a pat to her head this time.

  She kept her smile in place as those hated, condescending words and actions burned her mind like acid.

  “On your feet.”

  Myth took the hand he removed from her head and offered to her, relieved he was finished with her for now. Flowing with the graceful movements he liked, she rose from her knees to her feet. Letting her up meant he was moving on to other things. She turned to go.

  “I think you’re going to do very well tomorrow, Esne. I’m so sure, I’m going to give you some of your reward now.”

  Her heart leapt, and she gave him a genuine smile. He was in a generous mood, and she was happy to take advantage of any chance at the reward he controlled so carefully. “Where is —”

  She closed her mouth when he didn’t release her hand. Instead, he rose, tugging her with him. As she followed him down the white marble corridors, the opposite way of where she wanted to go, into his bedroom. Her heart sank. Not because of what was coming next, but because of what might result.

  Myth didn’t struggle when he bent her forward over his bed. She turned her head as he pushed her dress up over her back, thankful at least this way she didn’t have to watch him. She remembered the black-haired boy who used to smile and give her presents when they were children. The young man who lost his smile but still tried to show her kindness. The man who died the day he killed his master, lost his humanity and all his color, becoming the white-eyed, white-haired Scorpion Mage.

  She didn’t flinch as he used two fingers to apply the gel that made him feel good and her numb. And she felt nothing, even when her body jostled as he braced his hands on either side of her.

  “I feel strong today. There is much magic left in me.” Iqiohr panted as he neared finishing. “You are the vessel, my Esne. A son. Give me a son.”

  Myth closed her eyes to hide the tears threatening to well. Dread settled into her bones. This was the thing she feared most. Mages could rarely father children, but with all the magic he held, Iqiohr might be able to today.

  For four years he’d used their daughter to control Myth, hiding Fable away and doling out seeing her as a reward when she behaved. Punishing the little girl when Myth didn’t. As bad as that was, what truly terrified her was what he could do to a son.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  NORRIX

  THE AHUIZOTL PADDED alongside Norrix on silent paws, ears swiveling, eyes alert, nose twitching.

  The carved rock passages twisted and turned, light fading as they left the larger, more traveled corridors. Vampire vision allowed Norrix to see in the near dark. The ahuizotl pressed against Norrix’s leg, biting his boots if he moved too fast or tried to step away.

  They’d all lived long enough to know the value of a Plan B, though they often skipped to Plan D, so there were explosions. These tunnels riddled the cliff their compound sat atop, leading to other buildings on the property, armories, stashes of clothes, food, and freshwater sources. Vampires didn’t require food or water to live, but Selene, Ciaran, and now Ember and Musette, would if their haven was ever invaded.

  The dungeon was down here, on the way to the largest freshwater spring. As they passed the entrance, the ahuizotl, content to explore and take in the new areas until here, stopped. He lowered his head, a growl rumbling from his chest.

  Norrix had seen the intelligence in these creatures. It was easy to think of them as simple and dog-like, but they formed complicated bonds with those they chose, understood when spoken to, and preferred to make their own decisions rather than obey commands.

  Keeping his voice low and conversational, Norrix said, “I know the mage hurt you, separated you from your family, and kept you prisoner.”

  The ahuizotl’s snarls changed pitch, deepening. He threw himself at the dungeon entrance, but bounced back. Thwarted by Selene and Soră’s magic, he threw himself forward again, rebounding. He righted himself, paced to the ward slowly, and reared back. Raccoon hands against the barrier, he turn
ed his head towards Norrix.

  “Here’s the thing. We need information from him. He knows who hurt someone in our family. There’s a vampire with a pair of swords who can get information from him and take his magic. I promise you the mage won’t enjoy his time with us.”

  The growling’s intensity backed down.

  “Do you have a family? A pack we can take you home to? I know revenge is a strong temptation. But if you let us keep the mage, I’ll get you home. Aztlan, right? I’ll take you there myself.”

  The ahuizotl whined, staring into the tunnel, then pushed away. He landed on all fours and attacked Norrix’s boots.

  “I understand.” Norrix laughed. “You’ll tear me to pieces if I don’t get you home.”

  With a chuff, the ahuizotl relented and Norrix turned to lead the way to the spring. “Well, that completes the tour of our underground caverns.” He crouched in front of his companion. “You have the run of the place, although there aren’t any people to drown. Can you live with that?”

  The ahuizotl cocked his head, and Norrix rubbed his ears.

  His phone chirped, causing the ahuizotl to cock his head to an almost upside down angle. Chuckling, Norrix read the text message. “Well, it looks like the boss wants me.” He waved an arm at the freshwater spring. “The pool is open.”

  The ahuizotl yipped and wagged his tail, the human hand on the end of it seeming to wave goodbye. He jumped into the water with a splash and sank below the surface.

  WITH THE AHUIZOTL SETTLED, Norrix climbed the stairs to the regularly inhabited levels of the compound and knocked on the open door as he entered the cave Stryx used as an office. The space defined functional — carved from grey stone, no windows. A chandelier of lit candles, wooden credenza, desk and three chairs summed up the furnishings. Stacked papers in several messy piles on the desk, but no electronics in sight.

  Bared upper body covered in bites and scratches, Stryx stood with one foot braced against the desk as he tied his combat boot. His normally straight black hair was... mussed. That was the only word for it and Norrix thanked all the gods Stryx already had pants on and a shirt was draped over the desk. “Wow, if that’s what she does to you when she’s happy, you better never piss her off again. And you’re looking very... tanned.”