Etheric Apocalypse

by C M Raymond et al.

  “Yer a cranky wee bitch, just like me ma,” Garrett grumbled as he pulled himself up only to catch a headbutt to the leg. “And ya swat like ‘er, too.”

  Bab seemed to think that was a cue, and flicked her tail against her flank like a whip. It caught Garrett’s ankle, but that didn’t hurt nearly as much as the time she had swatted him in the cheek. Barnabas had told him that was her way of saying hello, but now, Garrett realised it had been a sign—a very bad sign.

  “Get on wi’ ya!” He urged the pony after Julianne and Marcus. It took three kicks, but Bab finally took off.

  “No idea,” Julianne was saying when he caught up. She had slowed her horse to a brisk walk. “But I don’t want to wait too long to find out.”

  “Eh?” Garrett grunted at Marcus.

  “I just asked if she knew what the Founder wanted,” he explained. “Seems as though Hadley is as clueless as we are.”

  “Whatever Ezekiel’s reasoning, it must be important.” Julianne frowned, which worried Garrett.

  It was unusual for anything to get this deep under the mystic leader’s skin, and that worried Garrett. “Do ya think we’ll find trouble back in Tahn?”

  Julianne shook her head quickly. “Bastian said everything is fine there. A few remnant and Skrima have attacked, but they’ve increased their numbers and apparently are having no trouble keeping the town safe.”

  “Aye, that’s me lass,” Garrett murmured with a grin. His mind drifted to Bette…and the idea that was beginning to creep up on him. He shoved that out of his mind a moment later, though, when Julianne spoke again.

  “How fast do you think we can get back if we push?”

  Marcus took a moment to calculate. “If we take the direct path, no detours… six hours.”

  “Then what are we waiting for?” Julianne kicked her horse and took off.

  Heaving an unhappy sigh, Garrett jabbed his heels into his pony’s sides and leaned forward. She didn’t change pace. Bab continued plodding along, tail swishing behind her.

  “Come on, ya wee plump shite! Move yer arse!”

  Bab lifted her head and shook out her mane.

  “Fuckin’ horse! I’ll send ya ta the glue man when we get back to Tahn, see if I don’t!”

  Finally, Babs lurched forward into a jolting, uncomfortable canter.

  “Fuckin’ horses,” Garrett muttered under his breath.

  The small group made good time, pushing the horses late into the afternoon and stopping only for brief rests. They alternated speeds to pace the horses, mindful that the beasts would eventually tire. And when that happened they walked, leading their mounts along the broken trails.

  They plowed through a mess of dead remnant. Now days old and stinking like an abandoned butcher shop, the bodies writhed with maggots. No carrion eaters had disturbed the corpses, something Julianne noted with a deepening of the frown she had worn since leaving Anrock.

  “It’s like they know something’s amiss,” she murmured. She cast an eye toward the sky, but saw no birds circling while waiting for the humans to leave before descending on their dinner.

  “Ask Mathias when you see him next,” Marcus suggested. “The druid might know why.”

  Julianne nodded absentmindedly. Her concentration was on the ground, as her horse timidly picked through the squelching mess.

  A wet slap of hooves neared as Garrett rode his pony past, spraying old blood and rotting intestines over Julianne’s boots.

  “Garrett!” she yelped, jerking her foot up.

  Julianne's horse shied and she grabbed the pommel, catching herself just before she slid to the ground ass-first.

  “What the hell?” she demanded.

  “Sorry!” Garrett called, his voice fading as his pony ran. “She won’t bloody listen to me!”

  Righting herself, Julianne vowed that if she ever found out he’d done it on purpose, she’d shave his beard off.

  Shaking off her irritation, Julianne rode on. They pushed until nightfall before finally stopping to eat.

  "Shall we stop to rest?" Marcus asked. “We’re almost at the Witchpost. That’s only a stone’s throw from Tahn.”

  "I'd rather not," Julianne replied. "We’ll arrive well after dark, but I don’t want to waste another day."

  Julianne chewed on her lower lip. It was unlike her to feel so conflicted, but Marcus understood why she did.

  "I don't know Ezekiel as well as you do, but I'm sure he wouldn't waste your time. If he needs you this badly, it must be important." Marcus dug in his saddlebags and pulled a small wrapped parcel of bread and cheese from his pocket. He offered some to Julianne.

  "Thank you." Julianne helped herself to some, chewing it thoughtfully while she watched Garrett wrestle with his pony’s halter. "It doesn't matter how often we take him riding, it's like he’s never seen a horse before."

  Marcus chuckled. "I can't believe he got suckered into taking that damn pony."

  "Hard to call that thing a horse,” she returned with a smile. “He could have just let me trade his horse. He knows I would have gotten him a better deal."

  Marcus shrugged, grinning. "You know what Garrett is like. He doesn't like to feel like someone else is telling him what to do. He could have asked anyone in that town, and they would have told him that Babs is a cantankerous old bitch. But he didn't, and now he’s stuck with her."

  Julianne smiled and opened her mouth to respond. Then, she closed it as her eyes flashed white.

  “Marcus!” Her loud whisper caught his attention as easily as a yell would have. “There’s someone nearby.”

  “Danger?” He asked, unstrapping his rifle from the horse.

  Julianne reached out with her mind to brush the consciousness of the two people she sensed nearby.

  Not remnants… what if they’re bandits, come to kill us?

  The thoughts were male, and held a fear deeper than the mere thought of rogue thieves. Julianne reached for the second mind.

  If they’ve taken my baby, I’ll kill them. I’ll kill them all. Oh, Matriarch, please let my baby be safe.

  This mind was female, and caught in an eddy of panic and maternal longing. A quick probe gave Julianne a clearer understanding—the couple, a husband and wife, had been on their way to Tahn. They’d camped the previous night and woken to find their six-year-old son gone, the tent strap flapping in the breeze.

  They had tracked his prints, then lost the trail in the forest. That was hours ago. Now, hidden in the bushes with no idea what manner of people they had come across, the man and woman were beside themselves.

  Julianne caught Marcus and Garrett’s attention, then raised a finger to her lips, shushing them.

  “Hello?” She called gently. “I know you’re afraid. We’re not here to hurt you, though. We’re just travelers, returning to Tahn. Please, come out. I promise you’re safe.”

  Julianne’s eye shone as she spoke and before the couple could retreat further into the forest, she projected a sensation of safety and warmth towards them. The effect was subtle—too much would just make them feel unsettled—but it worked.

  Fear for their child won out over caution. The leaves rusted and the man stepped out, his wife timidly hiding behind him.

  “My name is Branson,” he said. “We’re looking for our son.”

  “Have you seen him?” His wife’s plea trembled with hope and desperation.

  “Nay, not us,” Garrett said. “But Julianne here, she can find him for ya. She’s got mind fu— er, mind magic.”

  Julianne winced at the blossoming joy on the face of the woman before her.

  “Edith, I—“

  “She knew my name!” Edith gasped. She turned to her husband. “The short man is right, she’s got magic!”

  Edith dropped to her knees and pressed her hands together. “The Matriarch sent you, I know she did! Please, will take us to our Daved?”

  The hesitation Julianne felt had nothing to do with a reluctance to help. “Edith, yes. I have magic. But… I
can’t sense your son. I should be able to—even if he’s sleeping.”

  Edith froze. Then, a shuddering gasp wracked her body. “No. Don’t you dare say that. Don’t you tell me he’s dead, he’s not, I know he’s not!”

  Julianne stepped back, struck by the depth of Edith’s denial.

  “Please,” Branson said, his voice husky. “Won’t you try? Maybe he’s a little far off, or sleeping too heavily for you to notice. Please?”

  Julianne swallowed the lump in her throat. Then, against her better judgement, she nodded. “I’ll try.”

  Determined to give it her best shot despite the slim hope, Julianne sat on the grass with her back against a tree. Her legs were crossed and her hands rested on her knees, palms facing the moonlit sky.

  Breathing deeply, Julianne reached out with her magic. At first, she let it spread like a puddle of melting ice, soaking the space around her and stretching out.

  Nothing.

  Chapter Five

  Undeterred by her first failed attempt, Julianne tried another tactic. Instead of the puddle, she formed her magic into a laser sharp whip. She reached out, as far as she could, seeking any sign of the lost boy.

  Slowly, she moved the focus of her magic to her left, sweeping it around in a wide circle.

  The distance she covered surprised even her as she stumbled across the sleepy guards at the Tahn portal, blocked up some time ago to prevent the alien beasts from slipping through. After quickly ascertaining that each of the minds she touched was familiar to her, she continued the search.

  “Anything?” Branson pressed.

  Julianne was vaguely aware of Marcus hushing the man, but her concentration was drawn by something else. Not the boy… and yet, it was. His mind was somehow… different. It buzzed with an energy she hadn’t seen, something that tugged at her memories. It wasn’t the random static a remnant mind emitted, but the rhythmic pulsations weren’t quite human, either. Beneath the foreignness she could sense his fear and confusion.

  Her eyes snapped open. “Skrim.”

  Julianne scrambled to her feet as Edith fell back, her face crumbling. Julianne grabbed her hands.

  “There may be a chance,” she gasped. “A small one, so tiny I hate to even speak it. But a chance.”

  Edith’s demeanour shifted immediately. Gone was the broken woman and in her place, a burning flame of righteousness. “Take me to him.”

  Julianne nodded, then swung up on her horse. She reached down to offer Edith a hand and the woman took it without hesitation.

  While she helped Edith to settle herself on the horse, Julianne sent a probe through the bracelet on her wrist.

  Hadley? Hadley, I need you.

  Wha—Jules? Hadley’s response was groggy but quickly cleared as the mystic shook off the last vestiges of sleep. What is it?

  I have a… situation. I’m not sure what it is. Julianne did her best to communicate the strange sensation she’d gotten from the boy.

  Hadley sent the mental equivalent of a shrug. I’ve never sensed that before, but if you think I can help, I’ll come. But, Jules, one more thing.

  Yes?

  Say ‘I need you’ again, her old friend sent her.

  Julianne ignored him and quickly sent directions to help him find her, then withdrew from his mind. But not completely—they shared a very loose connection that would let Hadley follow her as she moved through the forest.

  She found the boy after an hour of searching. Her first mental sweep of the area had missed him initially and even after she had found him, the connection was slippery and her spell failed several times. Even when she finally reached the small clearing where she thought he was, his mind was cloaked, his exact location hidden by the uncomfortable buzz.

  It was Edith who spotted him first. Deep under the roots of a dying tree, burrowed into the soft dirt like a scared rabbit, the boy was curled up into a tight, unresponsive ball.

  Marcus and Branson carefully pulled Daved free. His arms would not release from his knees and his head stayed tucked tightly down, despite the motion as he was extracted and placed in his mother’s arms.

  “Daved? My poor boy. What happened to you?” Edith asked, voice shaking and muffled as she pressed her face into his hair.

  “That happened,” Julianne said. She pointed to a scaly lump on the back of Daved’s neck.

  Garrett leaned in for a closer look, then skittered away. “Oh, no. Ya not gettin’ me near that wee prick of a thing. Fuckin’ alien shite.”

  Edith rounded on Garrett. “This is my son!” she yelled.

  “Not ‘im,” Garrett protested. “The wee gobshite on the back of his head. We’ve seen the bastard brain-leechers before… but never on a lad.”

  Edith pulled Daved’s head forward to look. The boy didn’t flinch. When Edith saw the Skrim at the top of his spine, she screamed in fright and tried to slap it away.

  Julianne grabbed her wrist. “Don’t do that,” she snapped, eyes blazing.

  Edith froze, then dropped her hand away, the importance of Julianne’s command underlined by a hit of magic compulsion.

  “The Skrim has control of his mind. At least I think it does. If we just rip it out, we could damage him.” Julianne blew out a breath of frustration. “I think we need to wait for Hadley. Maybe he’s seen something like this before.”

  Marcus heard and came over to them. He’d already tethered the horses and scouted the area. “I can’t see any sign of other Skrim nearby. Or anything else, for that matter. You should rest, Jules.”

  Julianne didn’t bother to argue. She wouldn’t be able to sleep, but a deep meditation would help to recharge her energy and focus her mind. “You’re right. When Hadley gets here, we’ll set to work. You’ll stand guard?”

  Marcus nodded. “How far away is he?”

  Julianne lightly brushed Hadley’s mind. “Not far.”

  Edith sobbed. “My boy. My poor boy.”

  Julianne sent out one last wave of magic, soothing the woman until her eyes drooped. Moments later, Edith slumped over her son. When Branson started up to see what was wrong with his wife, Julianne turned the spell his way until he leaned back against a tree and began to snore.

  “Make them comfortable,” Julianne said softly. Then, her eyes closed as she settled back and connected with the world.

  Julianne’s meditation was interrupted by a pair of eyes. The bright green pair blinked, then drew back so she could see the rest of Hadley’s face.

  “Hello, beautiful.” Hadley helped Julianne to her feet, then pulled her into an exuberant hug. “Long time no see.”

  “You look older,” Julianne said kindly.

  Hadley preened and rubbed the days worth of stubble on his chin. “I do, don’t I? More handsome and worldly, too, I bet.”

  “I bet.” Julianne grinned, then sobered as she remembered why he was here. “Hadley, have you ever seen anything like this?” She pointed at the Skrim attached to Daved’s neck.

  Hadley shook his head. “Looks nasty, though. What do I do?”

  Julianne bit her lip, only a little disappointed at Hadley’s answer. She had a hunch that this was new for the Skrima, that the remnant they had controlled were a stepping stone to something new: human mind control.

  “Just follow me in, and pull me out if I get stuck.”

  Hadley nodded. Julianne put her hands on Daved’s temples and pressed lightly. When she nodded to Hadley, the other mystic placed his hands on Julianne’s. The physical touch would strengthen the connection and less magic would be wasted in trying to reach through air.

  Julianne prodded gently at first, then harder. This shield… Hadley, am I going crazy?

  If you’re thinking this shield feels like a human mystic, then yeah, you’re crazy. Only, so am I, because I agree with you.

  The blanket over the boy’s mind seemed incredibly human. Mystics had all been trained to shield another, and to break such shields. But this… this was stronger than anything Julianne had felt before.
<
br />   I’m going in. Julianne pushed against the boy’s shield. It didn’t budge. She shoved harder, feeling her way across the spell to see if there was a weakness. She found none.

  “We’re going to have to do this the hard way,” she muttered. “Marcus? Get your knife.”

  She was vaguely aware of the blood draining form Marcus’s face as he went to fetch the small hunting knife he carried. When he came back to kneel beside her, Julianne nodded at the boy.

  “See if you can pry that off. Gently, now. I don’t want any tentacles left inside. I’ll steady his mind.”

  Marcus took a steadying breath and gently pried a carapace edge off Daved’s neck.

  The shield wavered. Now we’re getting somewhere. Marcus twisted the knife edge and Daved twitched. As he did, the shield faltered.

  Julianne smashed against it, Hadley tumbling in behind her.

  Red. Red, rushing, burning. Flames. Machines, monsters, glowing vortexes and lightning that hung in the air.

  Hadley shoved at her mind, and Julianne slammed her shields down but the imprint of her final vision remained. A hooded figure with burning red eyes. Eyes that stared into her soul.

  “Get it off,” she grunted. “Carefully.”

  Julianne split her consciousness into a million strands. One by one, she followed the pathways in Daved’s mind, sliding her magic along the slender tentacles that pierced his brain.

  Lightning flashed a blinding red sheet across the sky. At the same moment, thunder split the air so loud it made her ears ache. Daved screamed.

  The boy bucked and writhed, then twisted around in Julianne’s arms.

  “Keep him still!” she yelled at Marcus.

  Child-sized hands clawed at her face, raking soft nails down her cheek. Daved lunged, teeth bared as he went for her neck.

  Marcus shoved him down, then flipped the boy onto his belly in the dirt. Despite Daved’s tiny size, he fought like a demon, pulling a hand free and snatching for the knife Marcus held.

  “Garrett!” Marcus yelled.

  The rearick slammed down on the boy, pinning him under his muscle-bound body. Garrett grabbed Daved’s hands and yanked them together, holding them tight.