by Eric Asher
The innkeeper’s fingers curled around the cale. “We won’t. One way or another, you’ll have your brother returned. Alive or not, I cannot say.”
Sam studied Gaia’s dormant face, the gray eyes peering up into nothing. Sam hadn’t seen the innkeeper so melancholy before. Fiery, annoyed, irritated, yes, but rarely subdued. “What’s wrong?”
The innkeeper blew out a long breath. “Am I so obvious to be read by a young vampire?” She offered a hint of a smile to Sam. “There are no good answers in this conflict, Samantha. Every path leads to tragedy, every gamble is rich with danger. And it is on a scale this world has rarely seen.”
“What do you mean?”
The innkeeper flipped the coin between her fingers. “When Titans and Old Gods rage across the world, they leave little behind. There were disasters, long before the events humanity has discovered, where life was scoured from the earth and churned back into its fiery heart.”
Sam reached out to set a hand briefly on the innkeeper’s shoulder. “We’re only bringing you back.”
She shook her head. “You do not understand, child. Gaia is not me, not this body before you, not the spirit that wanders the Abyss. We are all fragments of a whole, pieces that make up a Titan. You cannot fight the sky. You cannot fight the ocean. You will not be able to fight nature given form.”
Sam leaned back a hair. “I don’t understand.”
The innkeeper closed her hand into a fist and shut her eyes. “My promise to Damian will compel me to go through with gifting some of my powers to him. After that, once I am free of that magic, I do not know what will happen.”
“We can’t worry about the unknown. We can only act on what’s here, in front of us, in this moment.”
The innkeeper’s mouth twitched into a small smile. “You sound like Adannaya. Act upon the world and clean up the mess later. Brashness can make you predictable.”
“Or the opposite.”
She shook her head. “It is more that concerns me, Samantha. I am separated from the earth, my body frozen in a time long past. The green men and Forest Gods have whispered to me of the horrors wrought upon the world by humanity. I don’t think I’m ready to feel that pain.”
Sam leaned closer to the innkeeper. “What other choice do we have?”
The innkeeper ran a finger along Gaia’s face. “We have no other choice.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Frank sat at a corner table on the top floor of the bar at Trailhead Brewery. Alexandra sat at the farthest edge of the table, directly against the wall. Casper sat opposite her, and both of them watched the stairs as if expecting an attack to come at any moment.
But it wasn’t an attack that came, it was an apprehensive server, with a tray full of drinks and a small bowl of rum. She slid the bowl down the long table where Frank caught it and sat it in front of Graybeard.
“Aye, there be a few advantages to not being all bones.” And with that, the decaying parrot stuck his face into the rum.
The server didn’t look away from the bird when she spoke. “Your pretzel sticks should be out soon. I’ll go, um, check on them.”
“She seems to be taking things quite well,” Alexandra said.
Frank grunted. “The vampires come here fairly often. Or at least they used to, when they were here more. I don’t know why Vik keeps them down in the Pit so much.”
“Because he’s smart.” Casper sipped at her beer. “Oh my God, I needed to drink.”
Graybeard lifted his head back out of the bowl and looked up at Casper. “We all did, lass.”
Frank nodded and picked up a bourbon. He opened Sam’s last text message again and then took a long drink. They had all three artifacts they needed for Damian. Now they just had to see what the hell was going to happen.
Not being there beside her, just waiting to find out how everything would fall, was a special kind of torture. Frank wanted to help, but he also knew he was outclassed and out-powered, so he’d do what he could in Saint Charles and support Sam in any way she needed.
Graybeard pecked at one of the pretzels when the server sat them down.
Casper watched the bird, the frown on her face ever-growing. “You could have at least put it on another plate, Graybeard. Gross.”
The bird sank his beak into the pretzel, picked it up, stared at Casper, then hopped back to a corner of the table, where he continued pecking.
Frank tore off a piece of pretzel, the salt crunching between his teeth. “You met Andi and Dimitri when Damian and Sam were kids.”
Graybeard looked up from his snack. “Oh, aye, and you can guess how well that went.”
Frank had heard some of the stories. Had heard Andi whisper about “the bird” more than once. It was an odd thing to think Graybeard had met Damian and Sam when they were just kids. But now he was here, fighting alongside them, and it reminded Frank of how strange life could be.
It wasn’t that long ago he’d had a different life himself. If he faced the person he had been ten years ago, he doubted he would recognize the eyes looking back. Selling guns wasn’t exactly frowned on in Missouri. You could go to most flea markets and arm yourself better than you’d expect, but selling certain kinds of guns, and ammunition, well, that was far more problematic. Especially when it had been stolen from unscrupulous sources.
The mob hadn’t died out entirely around the city, and while they were far more stealthy than they had been in their prime, when his grandfather had worked in the underground in the Italian neighborhood known as the Hill, they still had their fingers in a great many businesses.
While Frank didn’t enjoy those memories, they reminded him of how lucky he was now to have family and friends who would do anything for each other. And that was something he wouldn’t trade for the world, something he’d battle a leviathan to protect.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Do you ever wonder what the point of it all is?” Terrence asked, plucking a string on his guitar and twisting one of the tuning pegs.
Dirge looked out from the cliff above the curve in the river below. “I wonder a great many things, my friend. But there are more important things to worry over than a simple point.”
Terrence strummed a C chord, and the notes resonated across the calm water below, returning as a faint echo. “Maybe you’re right. But most everyone I’ve met who fought in the past, or who fights today, hopes to end these wars. But here we are, centuries later, still fighting. What’s the point?”
Dirge turned his attention away from the distant hills and looked down at Terrence. “There is perhaps a flaw that Fae and mankind share, Terrence. A desire to inflict their truths on all who walk in their path, with no room for anyone, or anything, that sees the world in a different way.”
Terrence started a series of notes, a light three-four rhythm that didn’t fit his mood. Sometimes the music helped, but sometimes the memory of things that had come and gone never left him a moment’s peace. He shifted the chords, from C to G and down to A minor.
“But there are darker reasons, my friend. Many Fae and commoners alike seek wealth with an abandon that escapes the understanding of my kind. What more wealth do we need than the soil beneath our roots and the sunlit sky? There is wealth all around, controlled by no being.”
Terrence sang, feeling his way through a verse without knowing where he was going. Sometimes it was the best way to write.
Oh, in darkness once I laid my head
I closed my eyes to sleep
In darkness found my friends had gone
So once more I did sleep
The bullets came, the cannons went
A life lost in the deep
What was a spade is now a blade
So once more I did sleep
Terrence couldn’t find the words to go on, so he played as the sun rose high above them. This was the calm before the storm, he knew. He’d lived through it before, that crushing certainty that something bad was coming, and no one could stop it.
It wa
s a dread like no other, and he only hoped Dirge and the ghosts of Greenville could weather the storm.
The last of the chords died away and he looked up at the Forest God. “Will you fight with the commoners? With Vicky and the others?”
Dirge took a deep breath, the bark and branches around his face expanding. “Nudd’s allies are no friends of ours. They would see us dead so they can devour this world at their leisure. So yes, Terrence, I will fight. And I will fight with whoever stands with us.”
Memories came back to Terrence, families torn apart by wars and skirmishes, brother against brother when a schism tore through the country. Everyone had to choose their side.
Some would always choose wrong.
* * *
“What troubles you, Demon Sword?” Morrigan leaned forward and poured three small cups of tea.
“Me?” Drake asked.
Morrigan frowned at him and raised an eyebrow when Foster looked up from the phone beneath his feet.
Foster gave her an awkward smile. “They have the cale. They’re going to try to resurrect Gaia.”
Morrigan sank into her chair beneath the white linen of her tent. She drummed her fingernails on the ornate armrest. “I hope they know what they’re doing. But what is troubling you?”
Aideen slid one of the cups closer and took a sip of the steaming liquid. “He thinks he should be there. He wants to be with his friends.”
“I’m wounded,” Drake said, sipping from his own cup.
Foster narrowed his eyes, caught off guard when Drake grinned at him. Not so long ago Foster would have believed Drake himself was one of the biggest threats to him and his friends. But he’d seen the lengths to which Drake went to protect Vicky. If he wasn’t being sincere, the ruse was impressive.
Morrigan looked down at the table where some of her people had carved an intricate model of Falias into the surface. The tents where they were now stationed were barely a semicircle flush with the edge of the table. It left enough room for papers and drinks between the model and those seated around the table.
“Tell us what you found.” Morrigan looked up at Drake.
He sat his cup down with a click. “On the north side, closer to Nudd’s palace, we spotted more than a few Unseelie patrols. Still no sign of the dark-touched, which worries me. I don’t know what they’re up to, or where they could be hiding.”
Morrigan nodded. “And outside the walls?”
Drake walked around the table until he stood between Aideen and Morrigan. He tapped the edge to the northwest of the city. “Appalachia and the green men took down the leviathans that appeared here. One of the lamprey beasts escaped to the south, skirting the city. A handful of green men are in pursuit. If they don’t catch it, I’m afraid the damage done to the commoner cities could be significant.”
Aideen stood up, cradling her cup as she looked at the area from multiple angles. “It would be a good spot for a trap, and not one of ours. Nudd could break our line there with the right pressure.”
Morrigan took a sip from her cup. “Do not allow too many of them to pursue the Eldritch things. That could be Nudd’s goal. Lure away enough of our forces that he could punch a hole through us. We won’t allow that.”
“And that’s why you don’t want us to go back to Rivercene?” Foster asked, his wings drooping slightly.
Morrigan gave a small shake of her head. “On the contrary. Rivercene is exactly where I want you. We haven’t seen enough Unseelie patrols here, and the dark-touched are still missing. If Nudd moves on Rivercene, they’ll need all the warriors they can get.”
“Send me with them,” Drake said.
“No. You’re two of my best warriors, a symbol to our soldiers, and for both of the Demon Swords to leave the field of battle would be too obvious. Stay here with your dragon, and help us hold the line.”
“Sparkles.” Foster coughed the name into his teacup.
Drake ignored the comment and inclined his head. He didn’t argue with Morrigan, and if Foster was being honest, he was somewhat surprised by that. Drake had always seemed a little hotheaded, which Aideen had pointed out as a similarity between the two more than once.
Foster made his way over to Aideen, and she leaned her forehead on his shoulder for a moment.
“Go,” Morrigan said. “Defend Rivercene. Go and be with your friends at what may be the end of us all.”
Foster muttered under his breath. “That’s a little dark.”
“There is cream if you would like.”
Aideen snorted a laugh, while Foster stared up at the Morrigan in disbelief. She was not one to make jokes, and he wasn’t sure if he was more amused or more unsettled.
“Try not to die,” Drake said. “When this is all over, we still need to decide who the better Demon Sword is.”
Foster stood up a little straighter and flexed his wings. “Count on it.”
With that, Foster and Aideen made their way out of the Morrigan’s tent. A short walk through the midday sun brought them to the nearest entrance to the Warded Ways. Aideen reached out with her sword, and the red wound in reality opened in front of them.
Foster squeezed the hilt of his sword. “Whatever happens, you know I love you.”
Aideen laid a hand on Foster’s face and smiled. “I know.”
* * *
Nixie stood on the shores of the Atlantic and closed her eyes. Even ankle-deep in the water, she felt connected to the rest of the world, as if knowing those waves reached all the way back to Atlantis at the bottom of the Puerto Rico trench brought her home.
A chill ran through the water but didn’t reach her core. The gentle crash of waves threatened to drown out the gulls crying above her. She took a deep breath and ran her fingers through her hair.
“My queen.”
Nixie turned to find Euphemia standing on the shore. “What is it? And you don’t have to call me that when we’re alone.”
Euphemia glanced down at her phone and smiled. “They have the cale. Vasilli is dead. Alexandra is back in Saint Charles.”
Nixie turned back to the ocean. A whale surfaced offshore, sending a spray of water through the air. Nixie looked down at the gauntlet on her left hand. She should return to Damian now that her meeting with the UN was done for the day.
She focused on Euphemia. “What of our people?”
“They’re taking to your suggestion quite well. I’ve gathered several complaints that we can address easily enough. And I believe your clarification that changes from their complaints cannot be guaranteed helped restore some trust in those we’d nearly lost to Lewena. Honesty is better than empty promises.”
Nixie crossed her arms. “We’ll still lose some in earnest, Euphemia. Change does not serve those who cannot adapt.”
“There is more from Alexandra. There was an attack in Saint Charles. A leviathan near the casino.”
Nixie’s gaze snapped to Euphemia. “How bad?”
Euphemia tilted her head to the side. “No casualties, although I understand Graybeard is somewhat irritated at further damage to the Bone Sails.”
Nixie couldn’t stop the smile that crossed her face. “That damn bird.”
“Frank fought with them.”
Nixie’s smile faded. “He survived? Losing Frank right now would be a terrible blow to Sam.”
“He’s fine. The cu siths have staved off more than one attack on Death’s Door from what Alexandra has said.”
“The fairies always did like to tout the strength of those cu siths. We could use them in Falias.”
“Perhaps Finias would be willing to join the battle? They were long known for their raising of cu siths.”
Nixie sighed. “It would be worth a visit I suppose. Let us wait and see if … if …” But she couldn’t finish the sentence. The thought that after all this they could still fail, could still lose Damian, and Nudd could still crush them all was an icy blade in her chest.
She pulled the flowing dress around her shoulders a little tighter. “
I need my armor, Euphemia. I’m afraid the next wave of this war is upon us.”
“My queen.”
* * *
Back inside the vault hidden behind Nixie’s throne, Euphemia helped affix the last piece of Nixie’s armor. It almost felt as if she lived inside the metal now that she wore it so often into battle, and sometimes into meetings with the commoners.
The joints sealed as the last piece fell into place.
“Do not be gone too long. And do not find yourself inside the Abyss when they begin that ritual. Gods only know what will happen with Gaia and Damian.”
Nixie nodded. She knew Euphemia was right. But if anyone thought they would keep her from saying goodbye to Damian, it was not going to end well. “I’ll be back soon.”
Euphemia stepped away. “I spoke with Mike briefly.”
Nixie raised an eyebrow. “Any news?”
Euphemia nodded. “He’s been back to the Burning Lands with Sarah. Tessrian is already enforcing a new order in the realm. Restoring her to power is going to lead to issues in the Burning Lands.”
“Better than the Destroyer,” Nixie said. “Where are Mike and Sarah now? Are they coming back for the fight with Nudd?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think they know. They’re spending time together, and I think you can understand that.”
Nixie’s fingers hovered over her gauntlet. That, she could definitely understand. Mike and Sarah had been separated in life and death for over a century. Until Damian gambled and changed things once again. Nixie’s hand curled into a fist. One way or another, the end was coming, and Mike and Sarah were right to spend it together.
“I can ask him. Send him to the Morrigan?”
It was tempting, but Nixie couldn’t ask any more of the fire demon. He’d risked so much of himself forging them weapons and fighting battles that weren’t his own. “Don’t pressure him. If he decides to come back, choose between Rivercene and Falias. Whichever is in worse shape at the time.”
With that, Nixie ran her fingers across the back of the gauntlet, and the world turned to black before shimmering golden motes rose in front of her.
