by J M Thomas
“I see ‘em.” Aeron’s voice was low, dangerous. “It’s the big one.”
“No, you don’t get it, they’ve broken open their port hole!” Panic choked Don’s voice, peaking out the receiver. “Dead ahead about three hundred and fifty yards! You’ve got less than a minute until the whole place gets fucked to all hell!”
I didn’t use as many words to relay his sentiments.
“Fuck!” Aeron hissed, then rivulets of blood pooled into his hands. With a low moan, he sank lower, back braced against the tree. “Ow’s the others?”
“They’ve taken the enemies’ pet spirits on a wide loop, then dispelled what they could. But you’ve got a whole nasty force coming right at you, fast!”
Already, the ground rumbled like an avalanche of rocks was headed in our direction. The mist began to thin, revealing trees on fire as a wave of destruction headed our way.
“Lessie… get that vial.” He gestured with his chin toward my bag.
I held up the first tube my hand could close around, and he nodded that it was the right one. I hooked the receiver on my pocket, then scrambled to my feet.
“Listen very, very well.” Aeron was barely managing a whisper, his body unnaturally still. “Pull the cork, get your seal in the other ‘and. You run and don’t stop for nuffink or nobody until you ‘it a portal. ‘Ere’s got to be a lid somewhere. Lid, seal.”
“But what about you?” I protested.
“I’m the distraction.” Aeron gave a weak smile as the rivulet of blood running into his hands slowed to a drip. The sadness in his eyes said goodbye, but his mouth whispered, “Go.”
I pulled my seal out, then unstoppered the vial in my hand. I held it aloft, away from my body, with the seal ahead of me. It felt like I was charging through a wind tunnel with a hundred fans. Some blew hot and some cold. It whisked the mist into a swirling frenzy, then dissipated it.
Dodging around trees, bushes, and brambles, I headed in the direction Don and Aeron had indicated.
“Hey!” Across the slight clearing, I caught sight of Ethan. He was holding an empty vial and a goblet, waving both in the air as he limped toward me. “Go, go, go!” he called.
Marla ran up beside me a moment later, face red and breath coming in shallow huffs. “They’re all going behind you!” she shouted, running up next to me. “That way, there’s a concrete circle. They’re coming from in there!”
I nodded and waved her off. I could barely make out the looming structure in the distance. It wasn’t a circle so much as it was a small coliseum. Large, pebbled steps made for bleachers, while the center was mostly grassy.
“Hey!” A familiar, yet somehow unfamiliar voice called behind me. “Coming up behind you, in the mist trail. You have the seal! You are truly her!”
“Orterios!” I skidded to a halt, then whipped around, bringing the seal to bear between me and him. “I swear, if you try anything…”
“No, no! I am here to help you. You need to make a seal, yes? That takes runes. I brought them!” He flipped his leather case open, showing a page of geometric shapes that meant nothing to me.
Wait a second. I know that leather case. “Mr. Ortiz?” My boss, the one who interviewed me for the dating service? That’s who Orterios was? Shock robbed me of my forward momentum, and I stopped dead in my tracks.
“Yes, yes, but we must be quick!”
“You need to do something?” I struggled to recollect if there were parts of the prophecy still missing or not, then decided Aeron’s advice on what we should do with the prophecy might not have been terribly impractical after all.
“Yes, but you go, hurry! I draw while you shut the mouth of the hole!” He gestured for me to step forward while he knelt and scribbled shapes on the concrete with reddish chalk and a protractor, his arms trembling.
A metal disc lay in the grass as if it’d been blown off, like a manhole cover, but twice as wide. With considerable effort, I lifted it to its side and rolled it over to the dark pit in the center of the coliseum. It clattered into place.
“Now what?” I asked.
Orterios waved his arms, his brown eyes wide. “Hold it there! One minute more! We must wait for light of dawn!” He drew a crude approximation, referring to the folder in his hands over and over for context.
I glanced at the mist vial in my hand. “It’s almost out!”
Figures dashed pell-mell down the hill, rushing at us. I couldn’t tell whether they were watchling or necro...
Orterios let out a cry as a bullet thudded into the concrete an inch from his feet. Gunshots echoed a split second later. He sprinted for cover.
I stood in the center of the circle, frozen in terror. Pain exploded through my abdomen, the force of the shot knocking me away from the hole.
As I rolled over to face my attacker, he ran up on me. With a heave, he threw my almost-empty vial of mist to the ground. It shattered with a crash, the last of its contents evaporating on the breeze.
I glanced around. My warding seal had tumbled free and lay partially hidden by the grass. I couldn’t help but think, as my attacker cocked his pistol and aimed it at me again, that Hugo would be proud of his concealed seal.
The ground rumbled beneath me, the stirrings of an uncontrollable horde of death-bringers clamoring to escape. The manhole cover juddered as the first of them rose to claim the earth.
Through the ringing in my ears, I couldn’t make out what the attacker’s companion said to him as he ran up. I only registered that the man turned to face the newcomer behind him. In that moment, I lunged for my seal.
It was in my grasp. My attacker’s gun jerked in his hand, the muzzle flashing.
As I screeched, my fingers fumbled the cool stone. It tipped out, bouncing off the concrete once, twice, then it stopped a foot from where I’d dropped it. It fell right on the edge of the metal cover.
In the distance, a report came a moment too late. My attacker fell, his blood spattering on Orterios’ drawing.
Dawn peeked over the horizon.
For a moment, even the crickets were silent.
Did I do it? Is it over?
As if in answer to my question, the earbud lying next to my face crackled to life. “Celeste, I need you back at the tree,” Don whispered. “Hurry.”
The second watchling trotted up to kneel over his fallen comrade, his back to me. Halting sobs echoed as morning broke over the distant hills, light piercing mist and shadow.
I struggled my way to my hands and knees. As I pushed up, I hazarded a glance at my abdomen.
The leather jacket had a hole. The plate within the jacket had cracked, leaving a dent on the other side. If I had to guess, it was a .22, small and hardly with any stopping power. Even then, it’d caused me so much pain. I’d have a nasty bruise, but I could make it back the way I’d come.
As I raised my head to size up my opponent in front of me, a dog’s head poncho pattern met my eyes. The fabric snapped as the wind picked up again, and from beneath it, a dark hand extended.
“Let’s go to him,” said Hugo, brushing tears from his eyes. “Hell has claimed enough brothers for one day.”
As we stumbled down the hill together, I caught a whiff of smoke as tiny patches of black on the grass encircled us and led the way. Familiar spots dotted the ground in charred remnants, though a lot bigger than the ones I’d seen across the tray in his garden.
“Is it…”
“It is! You spotted Spot!” Hugo gave a wry smile. “I wish you could see him.”
“I’ve seen enough for a lifetime.” I paused, my steps hesitating. “You were right, Hugo. About magic, the prophecy… I saw so much.
“Don’t forget any of it! Not a single detail; write them all down. The day you saw in color!” He held a vial of blood aloft. “Alright, Spot, we’re almost there.” His voice cracked. “Time for you to go. Ready? Be a good boy for Celeste and show her your tricks. Sit.”
A swath of grass the size of a large ottoman suddenly turned black.
<
br /> “Very good!” Pride and sadness mixed in Hugo’s voice. “Lie down.”
The blackened turf was now the size of a pool table. I clapped my hands, eyes wide.
“Good boy!” He flung the blood toward the beast. The red droplets disappeared mid-flight. “Now, go on home. You’ll get to come play again soon. I promise.”
Chapter 32 – To See It
Hugo and I leaned on each other all the way to the place where Aeron and Don were. As I got close, I could make out Don stretching Aeron’s body on the ground where he’d slumped to one side. His arms fell limp as Don rolled him onto his belly, hands still pooling with blood.
“I can’t stop the bleeding,” he called to us. “The tattoo on his back keeps taking, but there’s nothing to raise, no command.” Genuine panic widened Don’s eyes as his fist struck the side of the tree. “It’s like he overspent his control, but I can’t wake him up to stop paying the blood cost…”
“Inverse,” Hugo whispered, releasing his grip around my shoulder to wring his hands. “I’ll see if I can find one of the other necros with first aid experience. Oh dear!” He glanced around, his head flicking both ways as if he was looking for a scent.
“I saw Marla and Ethan earlier,” I said. “And Sian is… somewhere.”
“He was checking for wounded around the entry point,” Hugo supplied with a cock of his head to one side. “Too much turbulence, but I bet Ethan and Marla are closer.” He took off like a pointer on the trail.
“We’ve got to get this bleeding stopped.” Don felt around Aeron’s wrist for a pulse, then grimaced. “Celeste, do you think you could…”
“Anything.”
Don tossed me his knife, a menacing hunting blade with a serrated edge. I opened it, then stared at it, running my thumb along its edge. “I don’t know if I can…”
“Fine!” His eyes flashed as he closed my hand around it. His fist squeezed mine over the blade until my breath hitched. Pain sliced through my hand as warm plasma covered the jagged points.
“Where do I put it?” I asked as my palm throbbed. Don gently took the knife back, cleaning it off with a handkerchief before using it to slice the back of the necromancer’s robe open to expose the tattoo.
He shrugged, kneeling over Aeron. “I suppose on the edges and points. I’m taking shots in the dark here.”
I ran my bloodied hand along the raised points, biting my lower lip as the salt from his sweat stung my open wound. “I don’t suppose Aeron told you how he stops his spells?”
Don gave a sarcastic snort. “Communication is his strongest skill.
“He more likes showing than telling… wait.” I wracked my brain. “Wait, wait, wait…”
Don was at my side in a second, his booted footfalls muted by the pine straw. “What?”
“I think I got all the spots. Did he stop bleeding?”
Don checked. “Nope. And we’d better hurry. This radial pulse is getting mighty fluttery.”
“Can you sit him up again?” I asked. “Like he was before?”
Don’s eyes darkened. “It’s not gonna be safe for…”
“Just for a second!” I gestured wildly. “Please, trust me here. I think I have a way.”
Reluctantly, Don lifted Aeron’s shoulders. His head sagged.
I tucked myself behind Aeron, grabbing each of his forearms in my hands. “Dispel,” I whispered, then flipped his palms down to the ground, slapping them against the dirt.
Then I scampered back, letting Don lower Aeron to his back. When he raised Aeron’s arm up to check his pulse again, there wasn’t a drop of blood on it. It was like every bit had been erased.
“Shit,” Don muttered, then put his two fingers under Aeron’s jawline. “Fuck.”
He slapped Aeron’s cheek in desperation. “Come on, man!”
“Move,” Ethan commanded Don as he and Marla came barreling through the woods. Hugo followed closely on their heels. As if they’d been doing this all their lives, they started chest compressions and rescue breaths. The deep, even pressure of Ethan’s palms struck deep, his weight behind the rhythmic pounding.
I winced with every blow.
Don and Hugo backed away farther as Marla blew a couple puffs of air into Aeron’s mouth. Nothing. “Again,” she said, her voice grim and face blank.
The gravity of what I was watching hit me like an oncoming train.
“Aeron, come back!” I screamed, lunging for him. “Death doesn’t want you, Aeron! Come back here, right now!” A firm grip pulled me away. I didn’t even care to see who.
My knees trembled, then gave out. “Ethan…”
Again, Hugo’s arm found its way around my shoulder. By the tightness of his grip as he knelt beside me, I could tell he didn’t hold much hope, either.
“Again,” Marla said, her fingers still searching for a pulse.
“Get.. Sian… he… can… help… me.” Ethan spoke in time with his pushes.
“Don, can you find him?” I asked, meeting his gaze.
Don pulled his scope from his pocket. “Not here. You’re too loud. I’ll have to hoof it.” From another pocket, he pulled what looked like a small, plastic pistol. “Green smoke over his location.”
Hugo released me to rise. “I’ll hunt in the direction you fire.” He glanced down at Aeron again, breath bated. “Hurry.”
Taking off at a sprint, Don headed into the depths of the woods. The morning light dappled over his camouflage as his footsteps grew fainter in the undergrowth.
“Again,” Marla said, quieter.
“Come on, Don, hurry…” I bit back tears again, my throat raw. “Don’t you give up, Aeron! Hold on. Help is coming.”
A distant pop sounded, and green smoke arched above the treetops.
Without a word, Hugo took off. His footsteps were stumbling from exhaustion, but his legs still churned at an impressive speed. My heart went with him as he ran, every thought caught up in one wish:
Live, Aeron. You’re too cranky to give up now.
“I’m tiring,” Ethan admitted, keeping up his steady rhythm.
“Next breath, we switch,” Marla said with a terse nod. “In three, two, one…”
They traded places. Ethan shook his arms out, rubbing the muscles. None of us dared say a word, dared interrupt the sacred work they did to keep what little blood Aeron had left pumping through his veins.
Time seemed to stand still. My hands covered my mouth, shock robbing me of every feeling except nauseating dread.
Don returned, breathless from running. With clipped, regimented motions, he pulled gear from from his pockets, returning it to the tactical gun bag. As soon as he was finished, he slung the bag over his shoulder, keeping his gaze away from Aeron.
“You can’t be leaving!” I rushed to him as he marched through the woods.
“Yeah, I can.” He brushed past me, tense as he marched. “Lyons hired me to help with the fight. The fight’s done. Help is here. It’s time for me to go.”
I took in his bitten-out words, his strained expression. “But Aeron…”
“Look!” Don’s eyes flashed again, spittle flying from his mouth as he whirled on me. “I did what I came here to do. You, me, the rest, we’ve done our part. The cleanup is all that’s left. I’m sorry your boyfriend is counted among the lost, I truly am. But he knew what he was signing up for when he accepted this mission!”
Tears ran down my cheeks. “You talk like he’s already…”
“People die, Celeste. You of all people should know that by now.” Swallowing hard, Don spun on his heel and marched away.
His words hit me like a slap. I clenched my fists and spun back around. Through the trees, Sian came running pell-mell down the slight embankment to where we were. He fairly skidded to a stop, then dropped to one knee.
My heart pounded in my chest as he produced the caduceus and set a one-inch-thick fallen stick next to Aeron’s head. “What are you doing?” I asked.
Sian motioned for silence, then shi
ned a small flashlight in Aeron’s unblinking eyes. He turned to Ethan, who was working the chest compressions. “On my mark, two more breaths, then one big one. Ready? Mark!”
Ethan did as instructed, the last breath a large puff that expanded Aeron’s chest.
“Good, now hold it in. Pinch hard, don’t let any escape.” Sian readied the caduceus, the needle positioned over Aeron’s heart as he began to murmur.
Adiuro hoc animo. I’d sooner forget my own name than those words after this past day. Has it only been a few hours? Feels like an eternity.
“Can you pay the cost for him, Celeste?” Sian whispered, gesturing to me with one finger as the other hand held his caduceus at the ready.
I opened my palm. The cut was small and had partially scabbed over already. A gentle flex of my fingers, and the blood ran again. “Yes.”
I held out my hand to Sian. He took it with a nod, pressing it to the front of the caduceus. “Our chances are slim, but if his soul’s in there, your blood will help me catch it.”
As he’d done to me, Sian slid the needle in place with a chant. “Let the breath out, then slip that stick next to him between his teeth,” he whispered to Ethan.
Aeron’s body deflated, then spasmed and thrashed in the dust.
Sian visibly relaxed, a sign I took as hope. “His soul is protesting the bond, good. The more you writhe, the tighter the magic’s hold.” A tired smile of relief spread across his face. “Alright, we have to get him stabilized. That’s a weak pulse; let’s get some oxygen going. It has...” He checked his wristwatch, pressing a button, “Fifty-eight minutes left.”
“Out here?” Marla asked. Then her gaze flitted to me, her countenance softening immediately. “Come here, Celeste.” Her hand waved gently toward me, arm still trembling slightly from exertion and adrenaline.
I could barely squeak out the words. “Will he be ok?”
On this, Marla was silent. Years of being asked that question had hammered in her training to never make promises. Instead, she took my hand and laid it against Aeron’s chest. “Feel that?”
It wasn’t steady, and it wasn’t strong, but his heartbeat was there. His eyes, however, stared open and unblinking like no one was home.
