by Amy Sumida
“But you need little boy blue over there?” Cerberus waved a hand at Verin.
Verin glowered at him. It was a deadly glower that made Cer clear his throat uncomfortably. I blinked; that was a first. Usually, Cerberus reacts to aggression with more aggression. It's his default setting.
“According to two seers—one who died to give us the message—we do,” I said as I eyed both men.
“You're taking your Shining One soldiers, right?” Cerberus asked me.
“Actually, we need to talk about that,” Banning jumped in. “Too large a presence might prevent Gargo from coming out to face us; too small and he might simply sic his Gargoyles on us.”
“The Gargoyles are being forced to serve him,” I told Cerberus. “They know he isn't Slate, not entirely, but they can't overpower their God.”
“This sounds familiar,” Cer huffed.
“Yes, it's one of Gargo's advantages and we need to counter it in the same manner as the last time,” Declan declared. “If forced into a battle, we try to incapacitate without killing.”
“How many Gargoyles does Slate have?” Cerberus asked me.
“I'm not sure; hundreds.”
“Then take a hundred soldiers,” he suggested. “It'll look like you've underestimated them, but one Shining One knight is easily worth five Gargoyles.”
“Don't ever repeat this to Slate, but I agree. And your advice is sound.” I scowled. “But, just to play Devil's Advocate, will it be overkill? All those magic-users could wind up getting in our way.”
“Better overkill than under,” Gage said grimly.
“True.” I glanced at the others. “Anyone have something to add?”
“How about three magic bombs and a God-killing dagger?” Darcraxis asked as he strode into the room with Torin.
“They're done?” Declan jumped up to take a look.
“You made magic bombs? As in; those things that we specifically destroyed all evidence of? The weapons that could change the face of Beneather warfare; those bombs?” Cerberus stared at me in much the same way that I'd stared at Torin when he'd first made the suggestion.
“Yeah; those bombs. I was getting to that part.” I grimaced. “After we remove Gargo from Slate with the dagger, we're going to throw the dagger in a steel box with a bomb. It should destroy his soul. I know it's a risk but we're out of options, Cer.”
“Fuck me,” Cerberus groaned and thumped his bulky body back in his chair. He ran a hand through his short, deep-brown hair. “I don't know about this, El. And why the fuck did you make three if you only needed one?”
I looked at Darc for the answer.
“Just in case,” Darc said as he handed the satchel of bombs to Declan, who was staring into the bag with a wary but curious expression. “And isn't three the charm?”
Declan took the bag and opened it to show Gage. Gage wouldn't even touch the leather, he just leaned over the top and peered in as if the bag were full of deadly snakes. Come to think of it, he'd probably be less wary of the snakes.
“We didn't choose that number idly,” Torin protested. “If we only need one, we can use one of the remaining bombs to destroy the other. But if we do need more than one, we'll have two spares.”
“But you're definitely destroying the remainder either way, right?” Cerberus pushed.
“Definitely. We won't risk keeping one any of them.” Darc shifted his stare to Verin. “I hope you understand how much trust we've placed in you by sharing this information.”
Verin inclined his head.
Cerberus snorted. “He wouldn't be able to form enough words to explain a magic bomb anyway.”
“I can speak, Cerberus,” Verin asserted derisively. “I just refuse to waste breath on useless chatter. Or barking, in your case.”
Gage burst into laughter as Cerberus grimaced at the Dragon. Verin's eyes twinkled but he didn't insult Cer further by grinning.
“Yeah, all right, I like to talk; especially smack-talk,” Cerberus conceded. “Nothing wrong with that. It's called being social. You should try it sometime.”
“As you like.” Verin sighed and seemed to consider Cerberus a moment; a pensive finger tapping his lips. “Does your Hellhound form require three heads because they're each as dumb as you or because you can't stop licking your balls and talking long enough to tear someone's throat out?”
“What the actual fuck?” Cerberus gaped at Verin while the rest of us laughed hard enough to bring tears to our eyes.
“You said you preferred smack-talk,” Verin reminded him. “I was merely obliging you.”
“Fuck, dude, I like you better when you just grunt,” Cerberus grumbled.
Verin grunted with satisfaction.
“If we could get back to the business of saving our brother?” Torin asked as he tried to hide his amusement.
We settled down and gave him our attention.
“I brought thirty knights with me but I can summon more if necessary,” Torin said.
“I'll call for thirty as well.” Declan got up to use his charm.
“And we will bring forty,” Darc said to me. “That'll give us our hundred soldiers.”
“And how do we catch Gargo once he comes out to face us?” I asked.
Verin grunted again but this time it was accompanied by a deadly grin.
Chapter Forty-Seven
My contact charm chimed again; it was Odin.
“Elaria, did you perhaps forget about something?”
I blinked, cursed, then groaned. “We were supposed to return to Coven Cay after speaking to the Jinn.”
The men around me mimicked my groan; all but Verin and Cerberus, who merely looked curious.
“I'm so sorry, Odin. We got distracted. There have been some well, not developments so much as revelations. Slate isn't possessed by a Jinn, it's Gargo. We think he's been in Slate since Lucifer pushed him out of Poseidon.”
“What?!” Odin roared.
“I—”
“Get your ass over here now, Elaria Tanager!”
“Yes, Sir.” I had to stop myself from saluting even though I'd never served in any kind of military.
Odin hung up without another word, and I grimaced at the men.
“He wants us to go to Coven Cay. Now.”
“Yes, we heard,” Darc said dryly.
“What about these?” Declan lifted the bag of bombs.
“For fuck's sake do not bring those things to the Witches,” Cerberus growled. “Don't even tell them they exist.”
“I trust the Witch Leaders—most of them—but I agree with Cerberus,” I admitted. “We can't tell anyone about the bombs unless we absolutely have to.”
“And what of the knights you'll bring to the Zone?” Verin asked.
“If they ask—which I doubt they will dare to—we'll tell them we're using a Witch weapon,” Torin suggested. “They would never question their royals and Shining Ones have a long history with Witch devices.”
Verin grunted in agreement.
“Come on, we'd better not keep Odin waiting longer than we already have.” I got up.
“I'll stay here and guard the bombs,” Cerberus offered. “I could use a drink anyway and, honestly, I don't want to let those things out of my sight.”
“Thanks, Cer. We shouldn't be too long.” I headed out of the room and to the elevator.
Most of Kyanite Castle's towers—I'd say about two-thirds of their length—are comprised of stairs that spiral around elevators. Only the topmost bit—a bulging, bud-like portion—was used for living quarters. The elevator was quite large though, what with all the space it had to work with, and we were able to make it down to the ground floor in one trip. We strode out to the gate, past groups of training soldiers, and once we were beyond the wards, we traveled to Coven Cay. I took Verin since he'd never been there before.
“Don't think I haven't noticed your excitement,” I whispered to Verin after we reformed.
Verin gaped at me then recovered enough to ask, “Wh
at do you mean?”
I frowned at him. “Dahabi and now, Coven Cay. You're getting to visit a lot of Beneather places you've never seen before. I'm glad you're finding some joy in this.”
Verin's expression melted into his usual steady calm and he grunted.
“Come on, little boy blue, we're off to see the Wizards.” I headed into the manor.
We had arrived in our usual place; the front courtyard with the fountain. The courtyard—and the manor, for that matter—had taken a lot of hits in recent years—from a basilisk to Maya Gods to the walking dead—but Witches are a resilient lot and they recovered rapidly; everything looked as it was meant to. Water bubbled over a stone statue of stylized flames wafting in a breeze; every elemental family represented.
A young Witch met us at the door, bowed, and offered to escort us to the Witch Leaders. I guess Nigel was busy. That wasn't surprising; he was far too important to be showing guests around. Still, it would have been nice to get a warning of what we'd be walking into. I couldn't believe we'd forgotten to return to the Witches. Yes, we'd been under a lot of strain and distracted, but the Witches were trying to help us alleviate all of that. Even if they couldn't do anything about Gargo, a spell to subdue the RS was just as important.
The boy left us at the door to the usual meeting room. I didn't bother to knock but went right in. The heads of the four elemental families sat at the massive table in a focused discussion. They trailed off as we stepped up to them.
“You brought us a Dragon?” Glinda sat upright and scoured Verin with her gaze. “Welcome, King... Verin, isn't it? You're the Azure Dragon, correct?”
Verin inclined his head.
“I remember you from the Zone battle,” Glinda went on. “You were rather... vigorous. Very vigorous.”
The other Witches gave Glinda an astonished look but she only grinned wider.
“Please, join us. All of you,” Glinda added when she saw Gage lift a teasing brow in question.
Verin also lifted a brow but he directed it at me. I shrugged and smirked. In response, he took my arm and escorted me to the table; the side furthest from Glinda.
Glinda pouted. “Have you already added him to your men, Elaria? And here you thought it would be difficult.”
“I have not,” I protested as Verin pulled out a chair for me then sat on my left; again, the side furthest away from the Witches. Darc took the chair on my right. “King Verin is here because a seer predicted that we'd need him.”
“I'm sure you will.” Glinda chuckled.
Vivian gave her a chilling look; as the Leader of Water, she was exceptional at it.
Odin cleared his throat. “Elaria, tell us about Slate and Gargo.”
“We've concluded that Gargo must have snuck into Slate while he was unconscious at the battle,” I explained. “He's been squatting inside Slate like a frog, gaining strength and waiting for the right time to jump up and make himself known.”
“So, he's been in Slate for a few months now,” Osamu mused. “Is Slate still there? I mean; do you know if any of the real Slate is left?”
“He's there,” I said with absolute certainty. “He helped me escape, remember?”
“True,” Odin agreed. “And Slate is strong-willed; he'll fight. That will help.”
“Do you have a plan to free him?” Vivian asked us. “I assume the Jinn were of no use since it's not a Jinni inside Slate.”
“No, the Jinn won't be helping us further, but we do have a plan. In fact, we were about to head to the Zone when you called,” I confessed. “I'm sorry we didn't return. By the time we were finished speaking with the Jinn Royals, we were exhausted and things kept snowballing from there. Still, that's no excuse for rudeness when you've been working to help us.”
“It's all right, Elaria.” Vivian held up her hand. “We've been distracted too. If we'd made any headway, we would have contacted you sooner.”
“Did you?” I asked. “Make any headway, that is?”
The Leaders exchanged grim looks.
“Well?” Darcraxis prompted.
“We believe we have a way to cast the spell,” Odin reported. “However, it will be excruciating for you, Elaria.”
I let out a long breath. “I can deal with pain. I have been.”
“When Odin says 'excruciating,' he means that you will wish for death,” Glinda said gently. “In order to get to the RS, we will have to seek her out and no matter what she says now, she will hide from us.”
“Our magic will metaphysically tear through you to find every speck of the Rooster Spell,” Osamu said blandly. “Although it will not be a physical tearing, it will feel as if it is.”
“Will it be worse than being burned alive?” I countered.
“Yes,” Osamu said instantly.
“No,” Darc declared just as quickly.
“Darc,” I said gently.
“No, my fire. I won't allow it. You've been tortured enough.”
“That's sweet; that you think you can stop me,” I teased him.
“Will she survive?” Torin whispered the question.
“It's likely,” Odin said as brightly as he could; which, for a stoic man with one eye, wasn't all that upbeat.
“Translation; there's a chance that she won't,” Gage's voice was just slightly stronger than Torin's.
“Yes; it's less likely but still very possible,” Osamu answered immediately. “However, if we're successful, the RS will cease to grow. You will never have to deal with this again.”
“When you say that you have to find every speck of the spell... ?” I trailed off.
“It may take hours,” Vivian clarified. “Once we start, the spell will likely fight us.”
I will try not to, but she's probably right, the new, gruff voice of the RS said, reminding me of other things.
I relayed what RS said then added, “And, you should probably know that she's not entirely herself anymore.”
“Go on,” Odin demanded.
“She's been altering herself so she could accept lust as emergency fuel. It's made her start to regress. She's not changed completely but one more incident will do it.”
“Then we need to act now,” Odin concluded.
“No, she needs Slate,” Glinda insisted. “They should free him first and bring him back to us.”
“It will go easier on you with all of your lovers here, Elaria,” Vivian explained. “You'll need to draw on their power to sustain yourself.”
“We can't wait for Slate,” Odin argued. “We've got a God and some very powerful Beneathers; they'll be enough. They will have to be.”
“You want to do this now?” I whispered, my voice catching.
“You don't have to do this at all, my fire,” Darc insisted. “We can find another way.”
I stared at my first love; the God who had built worlds with me and sacrificed his pride just to be with me again. I couldn't fail him now. I shifted my stare to my other men and felt stronger just from that glance. I wouldn't fail any of them. I'd endure so we could.
“We'll be stronger when it's done,” I said decisively. “Then we won't have to worry about the RS acting up when we free Slate.”
Darc hung his head as his jaw clenched.
I took his hand. “Don't worry, my darkness; I've survived betrayal, death, and separation from you. I'll survive this too.”
“If you don't, I'll scour the realms until I find you again and then I'll never let you leave my side.”
“Fair enough.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
I laid awkwardly on a table in the center of a circle of my husbands and the Witch Leaders. Verin stood off to the side, a silent and stoic observer. I had told him that he didn't need to be there, but he'd only grunted and followed us in. I think it was a “fuck off” grunt but I took it for the expression of concern I knew it was. The worktable serving as my bed had been made moderately comfortable by the addition of a padded mat and a pillow but if things went as planned, those comforts wouldn't
make a difference.
“We'll need all of you to lay your hands on Elaria,” Vivian said to my men.
“And by that, she means that you'll need to hold her down when she struggles,” Osamu's honesty was getting on my nerves. “And prepare yourselves for a lot of screaming.”
My men exchanged grim looks before they placed their strong hands on me, holding me at shoulders, torso, and legs. For now, it felt supportive. My lovers, although most were quite bulky, were able to leave some room for the Witch Leaders. I don't think it mattered that much; the Witches wouldn't need a lot of space to work, just enough for a clear line of sight to me and perhaps an outstretched hand. They stood beside my men, one Witch at each side and each end of the table. My men outnumbered them by one, which meant that Osamu stood between Declan and Banning on my left while only Vivian and Torin took up the space to my right.
