Firestorm

by William Stacey

  Waiting nearby was a small group of Phoenix Guard warriors wearing black-and-red Starsheen cuirasses. Before the warriors stood another elf in brightly burnished silver plate armor: Queen Elenaril Cloudborn herself.

  They had made it.

  Chapter 10

  Angie, Tavi, and the Seagraves stood before Queen Elenaril. The queen's children, Wyn Renna and Kilyn Star-Sword, stood silently behind their mother, their faces expressionless. Angie would never understand elves. She had watched the queen's reunion with Wyn Renna. After more than a decade away from home, years spent masquerading as a human, the queen’s daughter was finally home. Yet the queen had barely welcomed her, giving her little more than a nod of her head, and Wyn Renna had behaved just as coolly. Even now, she looked out of place, a tall, thin human with pale skin and short blond hair among elves. When Wyn Renna had been captured by the Tzitzime, the queen had sent both the real Constance Morgan and an elite force of Phoenix Guard warriors to rescue her, yet now, when they were finally together again, she barely acknowledged her presence.

  Elves could teach stones to be stoic.

  Angie bowed, her hand on Nightfall's hilt. The others bowed as well, even Casey, although his bow was little more than an ungainly head bob. "We thank you for your welcome, Queen Elenaril Cloudborn," Angie said in passable Elvish.

  The queen’s long black hair was tightly bound and pinned atop her elongated, egg-like head, exposing her long, pointed ears. Her almond-shaped golden eyes regarded Angie without a hint of emotion. Taller than most elves, Elenaril looked appropriately fearsome in her plate armor, each piece perfectly constructed to fit her frame. She wore a long sword on her hip, which Angie had no doubt she could use. Elves were gifted warriors. The last time Angie had seen the queen, she had worn priceless gems on her fingers and toes. Now she wore only armor and sword, yet she was still every inch the queen.

  Elenaril answered in English. "I welcome you, daughter of Chararah Succubus. I welcome your friends, the noble Seagrave warriors. And I welcome our former pupil, Octavia Navarro. I offer you food and drink."

  A trio of fairies stepped forward, each carrying trays of food and drink. Usually, fairies wore little if any clothing, but these wore long shirts of burnished scaled armor, with daggers on their hips. To see fairies girded for war was jarring. And it wasn't just the fairies. All the other Fey moved about wearing armor or carrying weapons.

  Angie and the others accepted the food and drink, sipping the strong wine and tasting the bread, formalizing Elenaril's ritual welcome. The queen cleared her throat, the pleasantries over.

  Elves carried Tec away on a litter, and Angie’s gaze followed him until Elenaril spoke again. "Thank you for the gift of my daughter. I know it cost you dearly." Elenaril followed Angie’s gaze as her elves carried Tec into her palace. "We mourn the loss of the feathered serpent Quetzalcoatl and weep for this world with him gone from it." When her golden eyes regarded Angie once more, Angie thought this time, maybe, she saw a hint of kindness in them. "But rest easy. We shall attend well the Jaguar Knight."

  "I'd like to stay with him," Angie blurted, realizing how foolish she sounded the moment the words slipped out, but she couldn't help it. The thought of not staying by his side made her anxiety soar. "At least until he wakes."

  "That will, of course, not be a problem," the queen said coolly.

  "Angie," said Erin softly. "We can't stay here, not even a day."

  Angie looked to her friend in confusion. "Why not?"

  Rowan stepped forward. "My sister is right. We can't stay. It's already past midday."

  "Of course," Elenaril said. "The full moon is tonight."

  "And for the next three nights," Rowan answered. "It won't be safe for your people."

  "My son will fly you anywhere you wish to go." She glanced at Kilyn. "The rocs are not too tired?"

  "No, Mother, but there's a limit as to how far they can go before..." Kilyn glanced at Rowan. "Before dark."

  "Not far," Rowan said. "East, preferably. Mount Laguna, if possible. If not, then any wilderness. Anywhere there's no people."

  "You have to go right now?" Angie asked. "We only just got here."

  "I'm sorry, Angie," Erin said. "We told you we needed to get away before the full moon. We're not ... we have no control."

  "It's okay. I get it. It's just ... a bit overwhelming, especially after everything that's happened."

  "It's just three days," Erin said. "Come with us. You can barricade yourself in the bunker and wait for us. You'll be safe enough."

  "I..." Her gaze darted about, and she realized they were all watching her. "I can't," she said meekly. "I can't leave him."

  "You are welcome to stay with us." Elenaril's large eyes drifted from the Seagraves to Angie.

  Angie saw the unhappiness on Erin's face, but before the other woman could object, Tavi stepped forward. "Your Majesty, my people. What do you know?"

  Queen Elenaril sighed, placing her palm against Tavi's cheek. "I'm so sorry, Octavia. The Aztalans have broken your army. Those that have survived are in retreat, rushing north with the other refugees to seek sanctuary in Sanwa City among the Commonwealth."

  Tavi’s face drained of blood. The situation was dire indeed if the Nortenos were running to their former adversaries for help. "All of them?" Tavi asked in disbelief. "The Eastern Garrison as well?"

  "All of them," Elenaril answered. "Your military had pulled back from the border outposts to defend the smaller communities from the chupacabras’ attacks. By the time they realized what was happening, it was too late to make a stand against the invading Aztalan forces."

  "God damn General Gálvez," Tavi blurted. "This is all his fault."

  "I fear it would have made little difference even if your army had been waiting for them," said Elenaril. "The Aztalans have been planning this war for years."

  "Not just the Aztalans," said Angie. "The Tzitzime and the dragon Itzpapalotl are behind this."

  "My scouts report that the remains of the Norteno military seek to ally themselves with First Councilor Duncan Marshal's Home Guard in Sanwa City, but the refugees are stressing the city's resources. Marshal struggles to avoid bloodshed while readying his own people in case the Aztalans press their attack north—as they will almost certainly do. There are many within Sanwa City who urge Marshal to send the refugees back."

  "He'd never do that," insisted Angie. "The Aztalans would kill those people. Marshal must know this."

  "He suspects, I imagine, but others poison his ears, spreading their own hopes as truth."

  "You need to worry about your own people," said Rowan. "The Aztalans are mobilizing for you next, not the Commonwealth." He reached into his load-bearing vest and pulled out the map he had taken from the Aztalan fort. It was folded multiple times and battered and worn but intact. He opened it and handed it to the queen, but Prince Kilyn stepped forward and took it for her.

  Neither Elenaril nor Kilyn seemed the least bit surprised, but Elenaril's eyes grew hard. "They shall find we elves are not easy prey."

  Bitterness raged in Angie. Brave words, but did Elenaril truly understand the might that the Aztalans were bringing? The outpost at the church had been surprisingly well armed considering how far from the front line it had been. The soldiers coming to take Coronado Island would be even better prepared, and they’d outnumber the elves. But ... Char had always insisted Elenaril would make a fearsome foe.

  "Can you fly me north?" Tavi asked. "To Sanwa City? I need to find my people."

  "That's crazy," said Jay. He slid forward and gripped her wrist with his good hand, his unhappiness clear. "Come with us. Erin's right. You and Angie can lock yourselves in the Bunker. You'll be safe enough. You can't do anything in Sanwa City except die."

  She pulled her arm away from him. "No, Jay. I'll fight with my people." Angie heard the finality in her words, and Jay must have, too, because his face blanched, and he looked away.

  "It's her choice, Jay," Rowan said with surprising kindn
ess.

  Jay didn't answer, and a shiver coursed through him.

  "And what will you do, Rowan Seagrave?" Elenaril asked him. "You and your family will always be welcome among my people."

  "Our plan is the same. After the full moon, we take vehicles and supplies from Tec's bunker and head northeast for a new life. Everyone on the west coast wants us dead."

  "We don't. I tell you this with all sincerity. You and your family will always have a home among us. And we can use your military expertise when the Aztalans come."

  Rowan shook his head. "I'm sorry. I appreciate the offer, but you can't hold here. You should make plans now to evacuate your people."

  "You underestimate us," said Kilyn.

  "No. I know war."

  "We elves know war as well," said Kilyn, but Elenaril raised her hand, and he closed his mouth.

  "I hear your warning, Rowan Seagrave, and I acknowledge your words, but we will not leave our home until we must. My son will fly you east immediately, and you, Tavi, will go to your people. May you find peace in the bloody days to come."

  "Thank you," Tavi whispered.

  The queen turned and walked away with her Phoenix Guard and her daughter, this time holding her hand as she walked, finally showing a hint of emotion. Kilyn and Rowan spoke together, no doubt planning to get airborne as soon as possible.

  Erin slipped next to Angie, resting her fingers on Angie's forearm. She opened her mouth to say something, but Angie embraced her, hugging her hard, her emotions surging. Her friend was leaving. This was really happening.

  "Don't do this," Erin whispered. "I've seen you looking at him, seen him watching you, but whatever is between the two of you, you have no past together, and without a past, how can you have a future? Come with us. We won't hurt you. You're like a sister to me."

  Angie sighed, burying her face in Erin's neck. The other woman was taller and heavier, and Angie felt like a child next to her, but she wasn't. She was a woman, a grown woman, and she knew what she had to do. "I can't explain. But I can't leave him."

  As Erin pulled away, she smiled, but it was clearly forced. "Don't you dare die on me, Angela Ritter. You hear me?"

  Angie laughed, realizing she was tearing up. "I'll try not to."

  Erin gripped Angie's shoulders and loomed over her, her long red hair cascading about her face, her eyes filled with conviction. "Three days. Do whatever you have to do to get over him, but get over him. In three days, you ask the elves to fly you to the bunker on Mount Laguna. We’ll wait for you."

  "Got it."

  "Remember, three days. Then you go with us to the northeast."

  "Okay." Angie bobbed her head, her thoughts a tempest.

  Minutes later, the rocs rose into the air once more, carrying Tavi north and Erin and her brothers east.

  Leaving Angie alone with the elves.

  With Tec.

  Chapter 11

  The black dragon roared in fury, her cries reverberating about the underground cavern. Her human worshippers fell to their knees, quivering—and well they should, the incompetent vermin.

  Only Aernyx and Rayan Zar Davi stood their ground. At least Rayan Zar Davi had the good sense to smell of fear, but Aernyx stood unbowed, unafraid. The fool. She could kill a lamia as easily as anything else. He needed to learn his place.

  But his time was not yet.

  She shifted her gaze to Rayan Zar Davi, once more wearing her flowing robes and colored scarves, her hexed pulwar on her hip. Rayan was Mother Smoke Heart once more, high priestess of the Tzitzime cult—for now. Once Itzpapalotl had sacrificed the Haanal X’ib and freed her sire, Rayan Zar Davi's usefulness would be at an end.

  The black dragon turned her attention to Aernyx, still quivering with rage. "How did they escape your vampires as well as the demon?"

  Aernyx dared to meet her eye. "Someone…" He sighed. "Someone who really should have known better interfered and warned the Ritter woman. She and the others were ready for my Night Kin and slaughtered a great many of them. Believe me, Beautiful Mistress, I am as distraught as you are. The one who interfered will pay … in time."

  "Yet the demon? How could Sudden Bloodletter fail as well?"

  This time, Rayan Zar Davi answered: "Beautiful Mistress, Sudden Bloodletter was bound by a spell of some type, a powerful spell. Wyn Renna’s doing, no doubt. By the time he broke free, the elves had rescued the others and flown away on rocs."

  Itzpapalotl sniffed. Rocs? The elves must have brought them from the Hollows. "What kind of spell can bind a star demon?"

  "We do not know, Beautiful Mistress."

  Itzpapalotl sighed in frustration, smoke pouring from her nostrils. "And the demon?"

  "Is still bound in service," Rayan Zar Davi answered. "We've had to sacrifice more prisoners, a dozen now, but with the war going so well, there is no shortage of prisoners. But every day we hold the demon in service, his price rises. It will soon become … excessive. Do we still need its assistance?"

  "Yes. I do not care how many hearts you need to cut out and sacrifice. You humans are all little more than two-legged lice anyhow."

  Rayan Zar Davi bowed her head in acknowledgment, her eyes lowered.

  "So," the black dragon spoke, as much to herself as her servants. "The changeling is on Coronado Island with her interfering mother. No doubt they think themselves safe there."

  "Yes, Beautiful Mistress," Rayan Zar Davi said. "But our forces muster to assault from the south, an entire battle group, more than enough to sweep the elven defenders aside."

  "They must not escape again." And they wouldn’t. It had been a long time since she had tasted roc flesh. Yet one issue nagged at her … the human woman, the mage called Angela Ritter. The lamia claimed she had a hidden power, something to do with an aura of fire. She turned her attention to Aernyx. "The mage, Angela Ritter—you will continue to hunt her in her dreams. Find her. Kill her."

  This time Aernyx did smile, a sly, hungry smile that exposed his fangs. "I will drain every drop of her, Beautiful Mistress."

  "Advance our forces. Crush the elves."

  Angie sat in a plush armchair next to Tec as he slept in a large king-sized bed within the guest wing of the palace. It was dark outside, and a single candle burned on a wooden nightstand, filling the humid night with the scent of honey. The suite was large and comfortable. There was even a small bathroom, complete with a shower, toilet, and sink—and the plumbing worked, even delivering hot water. Once, this suite had been a part of the old beachside hotel, but the elves had altered it greatly, much as Char had done to the old zoo buildings in her own home. The walls were now intricate wooden paneling, displaying elven carvings of flowers and forests. The carvings had been filled with a silver dust to create a gloriously surreal silver forest. Real plants, flowers, and vines added to the allure, the vines snaking up along the walls. It was like sitting in a forest.

  Tec slept soundly, as he had for hours now, since Queen Elenaril herself had used her magic to heal his injuries. Angie watched him sleep, listened to his breathing. The magical healing was amazing, superior to anything Char could have done. After the queen had finished, the elves had stripped and washed Tec with bowls of scented water while Angie sat and watched. The elves thought nothing of nudity and so had no cause to object to her presence.

  Elenaril had claimed the magic would make him sleep for some time, so with nothing else to do, Angie watched and waited, her thoughts churning. The Fey didn't teach human mages to heal with magic, insisting such powerful spells would kill any human trying to cast them. But Angie now doubted everything the Fey had said about magic and what humans could and couldn't do. The Tzitzime mages used much more powerful spells—granted, it was evil blood magic taught to them by the dragons—but the magic didn’t kill the Tzitzime mages. And the real Constance Morgan, the one who had lived among the elves as captain of the Phoenix Guard, had also used powerful spells without killing herself. There was only one conclusion: the Fey were holding humanity back.


  That made sense. Only the Concord kept the peace between humans and Fey; without it, humanity might wipe out the Fey. The more she thought about it, the more Angie became convinced the Fey were keeping human mages too weak to fight them. And maybe they’re not wrong to do so. We do tend to be violent.

  She rose from her chair and pulled open the drapes over the large window. There was no glass—elves didn’t like glass—so she leaned over the windowsill, staring down from several stories into a garden. The night was warm and the air fresh and invigorating. She breathed deeply. It was almost September. In less than one month, her entire life had changed. At least the nightmares had stopped.

  A large moth fluttered past, its wings glowing silver in the light of the full moon. The full moon. "Please be safe," she whispered, her thoughts flashing to Erin and her brothers.

  She returned to her bedside chair, pulled her feet up beneath her, and sat cross-legged. Earlier, she had drifted off and snoozed for several hours in this chair, but her dreams had been fitful, disturbed by a man's voice calling her name. She shivered, shifting position once more.

  She considered Tec’s sleeping profile. Was he as old as he had claimed? Why lie about something like that? If he was right about the waters of the Black Pool—that with Quetzalcoatl dead, they no longer held powers of healing—then he’d grow old now. Her fingers brushed the skin over her chest where Rayan Zara Davi had driven her sword. The skin wasn’t even marked. What was it like, she wondered, to watch everyone else grow old around you?

  The door to the suite opened, and a female elf, one of those who had helped care for Tec's injuries, peered through the opening. Unlike most of the other elves, who wore armor and sword, this one was unarmed, wearing only a simple tunic. She carried a bundle of cloth against her chest. "He sleeps still?" she asked in her clipped elvish accent.

  "Yes, thank you."