by Plum Pascal
“The decisions I made… weren’t my own.”
“What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?”
Theren sighs as if the weight of the world rests on his shoulders. “It means there is someone... someone who controls Variant and me.”
I nod, already believing this to be the case. “I’m aware.” I see the surprise on my brother’s face as my words register.
“And do you know who this person is?”
I shake my head and rest my hand on Theren’s shoulder. “No. But I wish to understand everything. If you didn’t betray me of your own free will, then you and I can find whoever this person is who influences you and set you free. It’s simple.”
“It’s anything but simple, Cambion,” he responds as he shakes his head and shrugs away from me. “There are forces at work here that you don’t understand. You’re still missing most of the pieces,” he continues. He paces across the floor. “I know Aima has sided with you and your allies, that she seeks refuge with the necromancer.”
“Yes.”
He nods and looks over at me. “I didn’t order her execution.”
“I know,” I say with a nod. Though I knew Theren would never endanger Aima, I feel a sudden flood of relief as he confirms my suspicions.
“But I don’t love her the way I once did. Something changed when Anona told Variant about the existence of the angel.”
“The angel?” I repeat, surprised.
“Eilish,” Theren finishes.
“After I met Eilish, I no longer saw Aima as my one true mate. How could I? Aima is strong and resilient, but—”
“Aima loves you, Theren. Don’t give that up for a succubus.”
“Succubus?”
My jaw is tight. “Eilish is not fully angel. She’s also succubus,” I announce, wondering if giving this information to my brother is a mistake. I heartily hope not.
He chuckles. “That matters not to me, brother. She could be a fucking sea hag from the darkest depths and I would still find myself… taken by her.”
I flinch, moving further away from Theren as he continues to pace. “You would give up the love of a good woman, and a close friend, for a she-demon?” He doesn’t respond and I take his silence as answer enough. I shake my head. “I don’t understand you, Theren.”
“Did you ever, brother?”
“I guess it will be easy for you when Aima leaves then,” I say with a shrug.
“And where is Aima going?” he asks sarcastically as he shakes his head. “You said yourself she loves me and I know that’s true. She wouldn’t leave me so quickly.”
“She does love you, but, like you, there are other things occupying her heart at the moment.”
“Well, I must speak with her.”
“You can’t,” I reply. Something changes in Theren, and he no longer appears before me as the brother I mourn. He looks every bit the Unseelie King who betrayed me on the battlefield. I feel sick to my stomach at the sight of him. “Think twice about doing whatever you have planned, Theren. The others will come for me if you attempt to hold me captive.”
“The others will have quite a different perspective of you shortly,” my brother drawls.
“What do you mean?”
“I very much doubt your companions will ever trust you again once they figure out you were the one who led the Unseelie army into The Veil.”
###
Eilish
The Veil
Sweat pours into my eyes as I throw Aima off me. She bounces off the ground and springs into a crouch, like a feline. Her sleek muscles glisten in the light of the swirling vortex above our heads as we spar in the clearing. Instead of leggings and a tunic like I’m wearing, Aima sports a leather over-bust corset with shoulder straps and leather breeches. She fights barefoot, with her long black hair in a high ponytail atop her head.
“You should have been alive when the Unseelie went to war with the angels,” she says. “You might have given us a bit of a challenge.” Aima lunges, slashing at me with her blades. She expertly dodges a blast of my magic and straightens to her full height, towering over me in a way most fae women can’t. “We rode Horau, enormous spike-tailed jaguars that were bred for battle. Some of them could leap high into the sky and snatch an angel down by its ankles. Used to make me laugh every time.”
“If you’re trying to piss me off, it’s not working,” I respond with a laugh.
“Well, fuck you then,” she says, her smile broad.
I parry her attacks, learning her rhythm until I’m able to throw her off balance again. She feigns to the left, so I go further right, but only for a second. When she attempts to correct the miscalculation, I drop low, tripping her up. Aima sails over my shoulder, landing on her back. Quickly, she kicks up onto her feet and tosses her short sword into her other hand. I deflect with a miracled shield of bright energy.
“What’s with you and Kolvar?” I ask breathlessly.
“What do you mean?”
I shrug. “I heard him talking about the two of you running away together when this is all over.”
“He’s just a big lug with a heart of gold under all that beard and ale.”
“But would you go? If he asked you, I mean.”
Aima pauses mid-stride. “None of us knows if we’ll survive this, Eilish. We don’t even know what we’re really fighting anymore. Each time we think we know who our enemy is, something else changes. Before, we just wanted to dethrone Variant; now we aren’t even sure if he’s the real threat.”
We put away our weapons and walk back to the cottage. Morrigan is still resting, but the others are bent over the dining table with a bunch of maps. Flumph is still in Morrigan’s chamber, while Noni rushes to get the linens washed, singing a happy little tune under her breath. I climb the stairs in search of Cambion, because I want to have a serious discussion with him. I need him and I’m worried the longer I wait to take him as my lover, the harder it’s going to be to defeat the darkness inside me. I can feel it building.
But Cambion is nowhere to be found. I search the library, apothecary, armory, kitchen, both bathing rooms, and all the unlocked doors along the halls. Nothing. Dread pools in my gut and I hurry back to the others.
“Have any of you seen Cambion?”
“No, he wasn’t in his bed this morning,” Baron answers. “I figured the prick ran off into the woods again. He hasn’t come back yet?”
Dragan frowns, deep creases etching his mouth. Pyre’s eyes change to an oddly normal shade of brown before turning back to the snow-white gaze I’ve grown to adore. He looks troubled.
“He isn’t in the forest,” Pyre says.
“Well, where the hell is he?” Dragan snaps.
“He... isn’t in The Veil at all,” Pyre answers.
An eruption of protests reverberates through the room and I press a hand to my temple to calm the searing headache that prickles the corners of my mind. “Can someone please explain to me what’s going on?” I ask above the deafening shouts.
“Dragan just informed us that he saw Cambion sneaking out of Pyre’s private quarters,” Baron says.
My heart sinks further as Pyre’s expression grows grim. This... this is a huge betrayal of the trust Pyre has given us without question. He pushes past everyone and disappears through his door. A few seconds later, we hear the sound of shattering glass and things being tossed around. Big things that make big sounds. Colorful curses fill the air, ones that will no doubt give even Flumph a run for his money. Noni hurries into the room to soothe her master while the rest of us stand quietly beside the dining table. Pyre never loses control like this.
He exits his room with a suspiciously impassive expression and his house brownie tucked into his pocket. “Cambion has stolen a very powerful mirror. It’s one of the last catoptromancer mirrors I saved from the mortal realm before the Singularity. It... belonged to the seer I told you about,” Pyre informs us with an air of sadness in his voice. “I believe Cambion’s gone to Oronrel.�
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“What? Why?” I ask.
“He kept talking about needing to see his brother,” Dragan inserts. “I just assumed he was getting impatient with how slowly things were moving as we attempted to figure this mess out, but this isn’t like Cambion at all. He knows how important our mission is.”
“But he still has faith in his brother.” Aima hangs her head and rubs the heels of her palms into her face. “He’s been on edge for weeks now, and we were all too busy to see what was happening. What needs to happen now is damage control.”
Pyre nods in agreement. “We need to find the portal he used to get to Oronrel and make sure nothing slipped through with him. Kolvar and Aima can take the southern border, Dragan and Eilish will cover the east, Baron and I can double our efforts in the north and west. We can meet back here once the area has been completely swept for outsiders.”
“We can’t go nowheres,” Flumph calls from the room. We run to see what he’s talking about, but stop just inside the door. Morrigan is pale and sweating through the sheets as she thrashes on the mattress.
“She havin’ some sorta fit, an’ I ain’t able to helps her,” Flumph says.
Pyre disappears to his private quarters, Baron close on his heels. I’m upset that we can’t go after Cambion yet, but I sit beside Morrigan and press my hand to her forehead. “We need to bring her fever down. She’s burning up.”
“What about your healing magic, Eilish?” Aima asks.
I shake my head. “If this attack was brought on by her drained energy or something else magical in nature, I don’t want to risk using my power. We’ll have to do this the old fashioned way.”
Aima begins assisting me as Dragan and Kolvar return to the table where the others were strategizing. Through the door, we overhear Dragan complaining that Cambion hadn’t told him about his plan. At first I think Dragan means to protect Cambion, but the edge to his voice suggests he wants vengeance against the Unseelie King more than he wants to keep his friend safe. And I find myself disappointed in both Dragan and Cambion once again.
TWENTY-ONE
Dragan
The Veil
I don’t know if Cambion will return. Pyre appears more concerned with what may or may not come back through the portal with the stupid elf and works diligently with Revenant to scour The Veil in search of any signs of stowaways. The rest of us continue our training, taking it in shifts to check on the Midnight Queen’s fragile state. One would think she’s been poisoned, with the way she convulses. If not for Revenant being so busy with Pyre lately, I would have suspected him of attempting to kill Morrigan. The vampire is known for his aptitude in crafting poisons…
I sit here in the dusty dredges of the library, sorting through rough translations and scarcely deciphered portions of the prophecy book, but none of the prophecies refer to any of us. Beneath the scattered piles of papers are even more books that tell the tale of the gargoyles and how we came to be. My kind originated in the mortal realm, of all places. We were merely statues once, watching over mankind and frightening away evil with our terrifying appearance. If not for an unnamed witch, we would never have known life. This unnamed witch casted a spell to awaken a gargoyle in the midst of a great battle and the rest is history.
I turn yet another page in the book filled with my own lore and frown down at a drawing of what was once my kind. The drawing is not unlike the stone figures we become when we’re exposed to the daylight for too long.
I clear my throat to read a passage aloud, “The gargoyle soared across the sky and saved the witch and her coven from being killed. As repayment for his protection, she cast a spell into the very stone itself and vowed that any gargoyle forged from the earth would live in peace, so long as the night reigned over the sun.”
And then it was Morrigan, the Midnight Queen of the Realms, who gave me and my kind purpose on the day we restored the balance.
The door creaks open and I look up at Kolvar, who leans on the table. “I’ve given this prophecy of yours a bit of thought,” he says. “Maiden is to Shield as prick is to rose. I think it means Aima and I are forever destined to save one another from peril.”
“With what’s happened to the two of you, I believe that is a valid observation.” The grumbling tone of my voice isn’t meant with any malice. I simply grow weary of poring over these texts while the others walk through the past and spar in the clearing. “Where are your men you keep telling us about, Kolvar?”
“That worthless bunch of fuckin’ madmen are most likely pillagin’ Variant’s camps. Then, they’ll rest their bones in the Desolate Borders near the sand dunes. Our clans travel constantly, and rarely ever see civilization unless we aim to make trade. We’re... different than other satyrs.”
“You love your drink.”
“Yes.”
“You love your women.”
“Yes.”
“You’re not so different, then?”
“We may love our drink and our fair share of women, but that ain’t enough to distract us from the glory of meetin’ a warrior’s death on the battlefield,” the satyr explains with a smile. “We follow the roar of the fight, offering our numbers and skill to those willin’ to pay a price.”
“What glory is there in battle?” I know my words sound bitter and weary, but they are. I have no passion in my heart for war, only the burning desire to find answers and right the wrongs we’ve all made. I don’t want this fight to become another battle that claims the lives of millions. Never before have I had thoughts like these—maybe reading about my ancestors is having an effect on me. “War is not a solution; it’s a distraction from the true conflict. Watch by day, protect by night. Only we can defeat darkness with darkness.”
“What is that?”
“The gargoyles’ oath,” I answer. “At least it was, a long time ago.” I sigh as I think about the issues we still face. “I wish that fucker Cambion would have brought me with him. The two of us could have defeated Theren quietly. But, instead here I am... sulking in the pages of forgotten lore.”
“If the elf endangers this world, Pyre won’t spare his life.” Kolvar meets my gaze and holds it steady.
“I don’t know that Cambion deserves death,” I start.
Kolvar shakes his head. “It’s Pyre’s duty, Dragan. We can’t stop him from protectin’ what belongs to him. Even if you still regard Cambion as a friend, you must stay your hand and let the fates decide his punishment.”
“Then let’s hope Cambion isn’t foolish enough to endanger The Veil.”
###
Baron
Jadyrar Sea
“Fucking idiot!!” I roar my anger to the crashing waves of the phantom ocean before us. Pyre has spoken few words since Cambion backstabbed us. Yes, backstabbed us. That’s how I see it. Cambion chose Theren over us, after everything the Unseelie King has done to him and to us. Even Aima seems sick of his shit.
Anger flows through my veins like shards of jagged glass as I walk along the citrine sands of the beach. The Jadyrar Sea sweeps to the shore—white, milky liquid that reflects iridescent rainbows on the surface. “How could he do this to us? After all his bitching and complaining! We followed him, fighting by his side against Anona and her fucking pricks! We saved his ass more times than we should have!”
“Your anger is disturbing the ethers,” Pyre answers, his tone level.
“Fuck the ethers!”
Pyre cocks his head to the side. “That doesn’t sound like the words of a future Guardian of The Veil. Tread carefully, Baron. Your ability to steady yourself and ground your control is paramount to your future responsibilities. Never. Lose. Control.”
“Like you did when your lover’s mirror was taken by Cambion?” I wince as soon as the words leave my mouth. Pyre doesn’t deserve my anger; he doesn’t deserve any of this. “I’m sorry. And... I hope you don’t condemn the rest of us for Cambion’s actions. I can’t speak for the others, but you know I’m loyal to you, as a friend and as your ally.”
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“I know the honor you hold within you, Baron. And I do not believe Cambion betrayed us.” He grows quiet, pensive. Then he faces me again and nods. “He made a reckless decision and didn’t care what the consequences of his actions might be, but he did it for the same reasons we do anything.”
“Which means what?”
“We want answers and Cambion attempts to find them. He’s doing what he thinks is right.”
“People doing whatever they want without considering anyone else is exactly what got us into this situation in the first fucking place,” I argue.
“Which means what?” he throws my words back at me with a slight smile.
“If Variant or Theren were being manipulated before the war, they should have come to us! They should have been real men and confronted us instead of scheming behind our backs.”
Pyre’s face splits in two as that familiar lopsided grin appears. “Were you not an assassin that hid in the shadows and used poisons and daggers to kill your targets?” I toss my head back and laugh. The description isn’t exactly accurate, but it’s good to see Pyre isn’t sulking anymore. He walks over to the sea and dips his hand in the water; the substance slithers away from his palm as he digs into the sand and retrieves a large diamond.
“There are treasures and secrets all over this world, Baron. If one is brave enough to face its dangers, they may find themselves heavily rewarded.”
“And those who seek to take instead of becoming worthy?”
“They don’t survive long and end up becoming part of the world they sought to claim for themselves. Life is a cycle of unending occurrences that are sure to repeat themselves. The instability of the balance now is a perfect example.” Pyre drops the diamond into my hand and casts a portal to return us to the cottage. He heads inside as I stand beside the circle where Aima tosses Eilish to the ground. For a moment, I think I see the angel marks on Eilish’s back writhe, but I must be mistaken. She jumps to her feet and meets Aima head on.
