by Al K. Line
What did I know about doppels that I could use to my advantage? Actually, not a lot, only what Faz had told me, and he'd told me a little about a lot, but not a lot about much. This Hidden world is huge, and it is only by living in it, and for many years, that you become aware of just how vast it is. There is so much to know, so much to learn, and I'd hardly scratched the surface. Faz had recounted a tale about a job involving doppels, but he'd said nothing about them using magic. They were supposed to be like shifters, had inherent magic but weren't inclined or very adept at accessing the Empty. Somebody had obviously forgotten to tell these two.
Either way, it left me screwed.
Day turned to night. It grew cold out in the open even though the veil around the clearing would have kept it a few degrees warmer. The men disappeared now and then, going about whatever business they had, sometimes singly, sometimes together. They cooked, they ate and drank, they went inside the huts, and they refused to talk or give me anything to eat or drink. Then they left.
So rude!
The night brought with it a new set of terrors as my imagination ran wild, the emptiness above making me fear the worst. The men had been gone for hours. They must have been pretty confident to not want to keep watch over me. Had they gone to get Kane? They had, hadn't they. They'd be gone half the night if they drove, although I'd seen no sign of a vehicle. Maybe they had it stashed somewhere.
Again, I wondered how they'd managed to get us here, as we'd obviously been led to this place for our vacation. Had they somehow fooled Faz? Impersonated Grandma and told him about this place? It must have been something like that, which meant we could have been talking to them for who knew how long. Had I had discussions with my husband or Dancer or Persimmon, talked of business when really the doppels were getting valuable information? Had the others done exactly the same? How many other people of authority or importance had they been impersonating?
This was bad, very bad.
I began to sweat as I understood the consequences. They could return to Cardiff and pretend to be any of us. Were there only two doppels or were there many more? Were these two really twins? Was I seeing the true them or were they keeping their identities secret? So many questions. Right now, they could be impersonating Faz and Dancer. Hell, if one could look like the Head he could cause an insane amount of trouble for our city, for our kind.
Had they already been doing it?
Was my baby safe?
How could I escape?
Mind whirling, utterly exhausted, I must have dozed off eventually, as when I woke, my worst fears had become a reality.
Utter Terror
I was startled from my nightmares by the sound of my baby crying. I shook my head to clear what must have been part of my dream, and opened my eyes to discover that dawn had broken. The sky was clear and blue, not a cloud in sight, and it promised to be sweltering. I was already hot in my leathers, but as my eyes focused and the screaming refused to go away, all that was forgotten as my eyes locked on a small lump on the ground thirty feet away.
My baby.
I searched in a panic for the doppels but they weren't in sight. I shouted for them, I screamed, I begged, but they didn't come.
Kane grouched, then cried, wailing for his mummy. For me to come get him, save him and cuddle him, but I couldn't. I struggled until the rope threatened to choke me. I ignored the pain, but knew I'd be no good to him dead.
I shouted more, pleaded until I was hoarse, but nobody came, nobody answered my pleas, my begging. Kane wriggled about on the dusty ground, but he was too young to walk, too little to stand and take tentative steps. He was a baby, naked in the dirt, alone and terrified.
In a soothing voice, I called to him so he'd look my way, and slowly his wails and tears faded and he began to crawl to me. But if he came too close he'd touch the ropes, and they'd burn him, maybe kill him. I could cope, but only because of the constant background hum of my own dwindling magic.
Soon I'd be unable to protect myself, and I'd be overcome by my bindings, but Kane would be dead by then if he continued to crawl. He'd grab my feet, tug on a trouser leg, haul himself up and reach for my bonds. Then his soft body would be thrown back and he'd die in the dirt while I watched, unable to help my baby boy.
What sick, perverted torture was this?
"What do you want? What do you want to know? Please, you have to help him."
Kane crawled through the dust.
He smiled at me and I felt sick to my rotten core.
Nobody came.
No Respite
How could anyone do this to an innocent child? To my baby? Kane stopped at my shrill shriek, cocking his head to one side as if to decipher the meaning. He scratched at the dirt with his soft, fat fingers, put a fistful to his mouth and began eating it. Then he began to choke and I lost all control. My tears fell until my clothes were soaked, my throat rasped like a tube of sandpaper had been rammed deep down inside as I screamed, shrieked, and pleaded for somebody to come and help my baby.
His face turned red then purple as he made little gasping sounds, his chubby hands rubbing at his face, his small brain unable to understand what was happening or what to do.
I couldn't take my eyes off him but I was helpless, the worst feeling in the world. Kane toppled sideways and I was more afraid than I have ever been in my life as he lay there, silent.
Then he coughed and dirty liquid oozed from his mouth and he righted himself after a few attempts. He wiped at his mouth with a clenched fist, then smiled up at me with a twinkle in his eye like he'd just been playing a great game with mummy.
He crawled forward again, this time with renewed vigor and intent, arms and legs like squat pistons. In my mind he was speeding across the divide, faster than the vampire shimmer shuffle, but of course, he wasn't. His fat legs kicked and scooted as he made his way, all the while making cute sounds I knew meant he wanted a cuddle. He left a trail of wee behind him.
Still nobody came, and again I panicked and called for help as he got closer, knowing I was about to witness the death of my own flesh and blood, the most important, magical, stupendous thing in my life.
It was almost an out-of-body experience, as his death approached. I was above, looking down on him and on me tied to a damn post, unable to free myself. Yet for all that, for all that I felt impossibly pathetic and feeble, part of me wouldn't accept this as a reality. There was this hardness at my core that promised me everything would be okay, that somehow everything would work out all right. That he wouldn't really touch the rope that right now was half strangling me and burning my flesh over and over again, each time hurting a little more as my body failed to recover fully.
I refused to believe my child would die. It wouldn't compute, wouldn't fully register even though most of me understood that life was a bitch and bad stuff happened every minute of every day to millions of poor souls across the globe. Maybe it was because I'd been involved in so much, faced danger on numerous occasions, lived in a world where violence was never far away, and I'd come through it all relatively unscathed, a survivor.
Kane was going to die. I knew it but I couldn't believe it, a contradiction but what else can a mother do when faced with such horror? You have to believe everything will be okay if merely for your own sanity.
Something would happen at the last minute, something dramatic and epic and he'd be saved, me too. I struggled against my bonds, searching for a weak spot again, but the magic was too strong and I was too weak now. I was not going to get out.
Maybe Delilah would turn up in dragon form, blast the bad guys and grab Kane before it was too late. Or Faz would appear, negate the magic, and cut my bonds.
Something. Anything.
Kane stopped to play with his feet, in no way concerned with his situation now he'd had a while to get used to it. He put his toes in his mouth and murmured with contentment, but grew bored after a while and once again remembered that I was here and he still wanted a cuddle.
"No, Kane
, Mummy's busy, go and play somewhere else," I said in as calm and soothing a voice as I could. He smiled at me and continued to crawl.
Frantic, with less than ten feet between us now, I searched the compound for any other signs of life but it was still as quiet as a ghost town. Was this real? Was I hallucinating? This couldn't possibly be happening. Nothing can prepare you for such torment, so I tried to believe this was just me dreaming, or some weird twisted magic designed to break me. Maybe I'd been drugged, given a potion to make me believe this.
I knew that was wishful thinking, though. Inside, I understood this was real, that this was Kane and I couldn't help him.
He was close now, five feet away, and he wasn't stopping.
What should I do? What should I say to him to make him stop? Something, anything.
I told him, "No," in a stern voice, but he was undeterred. I shouted at him, I spoke in a whisper, I even sang Baa Baa Black Sheep in the hopes he would sit on his dimpled bum to listen, but no, he sped up and squealed with delight at the movements of his body, pleased to finally get close enough for a hug.
Then he was at my feet, dragging at my boots. He clutched a fat handful of leather with a determined grip and hauled himself to his feet. I shook my leg, trying to kick him off, thinking a few bruises were preferable to death, but I was tied so tight that as soon as I tried to move the bindings cut through the leather deeper than ever and all I could do was move my ankle a little.
Consumed with horror, I watched my perfect, innocent little baby boy reach up to the sparkling ropes and grab hold.
The rope crackled with violent energy.
Kane shot backwards like a lightweight plastic doll and slid across the dirt on his back, screaming as his body blistered and tiny stones cut deep into his flesh.
Then he was still.
Life as I knew it was over. There was no point going on now, all hope was lost.
Darkest Despair
Kane's tiny, pale body was a mess of cuts and bruises, his hands were terribly burned, blackened and covered in fiery red blisters that popped and oozed. He looked impossibly small there, this part of me that consumed my entire existence, amazed me with how much love I had to give, thinking it wasn't possible to have such depth of emotion, to worship with such intense devotion.
Now he was dead.
Anger the likes of which I've never known surfaced and I let out an almighty, piercing cry of bottomless anguish that thundered through the clearing. With it came an outpouring of magic, fortifying my torment and sorrow with soul-tearing energy. The sound hit the veil and the entire thing vibrated and shone silver as sparks pulsed and the dawn turned black.
I was plunged into darkness, absolute, and I welcomed it, welcomed the respite so I didn't have to look at my son. Again I screamed, a cry for all the mothers in the world who had ever lost a child. A noise tinged with true Hidden magic, something primordial and base, the very essence of the universe.
The black veil bounced my sorrow back at me, magnifying it, until I didn't think I could stand it a moment longer. Then light poured in as the blackness melted away like hot water poured over ice, and the veil dissolved, leaving me open to the raw power of nature, the sounds of the birds.
A breeze ruffled the fine blond hair on Kane's head. His body was blue now.
Untold Strength
Through my tears I could make out indistinct figures at the edge of the clearing. For a moment I thought they were standing stones, or trees, but as the tears stopped I understood that they were people. A blast of hot wind dried my eyes and everything came into sharp focus, but I didn't want to look at anything, as I knew I'd stare at my baby, could never look away.
"The One. The One," came a chant, and I peered at the motionless figures, only for my despair to intensify as I stared at maybe thirty perfect copies of me.
"You fucking freaks. You're sick, the lot of you. Have you no pity, no shame? You killed my baby!"
Something went wonky in my body, or mind, I don't know which, and for a moment I was insane, I'm sure I was. I lost control of limbs; I lost control of everything. Blood magic surged from every cell and activated, bringing with it an impossible strength. Hidden magic joined in, fattening my ink and spitting from my skin as I twitched, my flesh burning and scarred as the rope tightened. I didn't care about that now, didn't care about anything, especially myself. I screamed in final, complete release and let the magic do as it would.
My skin split under the pressure as magic anguish burst from my chest, my abdomen, my arms, and legs. It spewed from my mouth in a fierce volatile torrent and my dark eyes bled tears of actual magic as my fangs dripped deadly poison and my hands stretched and the nails became claws of a sort. All the power I held within, more than I thought possible, all the rage and utter despair surged from my body until I was engulfed by it.
Maybe I'd find peace now, find oblivion.
Everything burned away, leaving me hollow inside and with only one purpose before I gave up this useless life once and for all.
I would destroy these monsters.
The bindings grew tight, my breathing was cut off, the ropes chewed down to the bone and I welcomed it. As my wounds flared with white fractal energy, the ropes, magical or not, failed, the power imbued in them not up to this level of violence. Then they were just plain ropes, burned away in a moment.
I was free, but at what cost?
I ran to Kane and picked up the bloodied, battered corpse of my little baby boy and hugged him to my chest as the magic faded as quickly as it had come.
"The One. The One," the doppels chanted, thirty of me circling the compound, closing in as they smiled and made me lose my mind.
"I love you," I whispered as I held Kane tight, too late to protect him.
His tiny body twitched, and I dropped him.
Oddness
I gasped as Kane's spasming body fell from my arms. Everything slowed down, and I watched as his death-twitch was repeated as he fell. But then he wasn't falling. As the body turned, he vibrated and was enveloped in a magical cocoon like a spider wrapping up its next meal in gossamer thread. He was imprisoned in untold strands of this silver energy, and he spun faster and faster, trapped in magic that suspended him parallel to the ground.
Hidden energy flowed from me to him, and from him to me, like a two-way umbilical cord, and I felt a glimmer of hope beneath the despair. The connection deepened and the magical aura intensified and then as suddenly as it began it stopped.
The cocoon split apart and a wave of supercharged energy swept over me and drew a gasp from the doppels, who were now a mere twenty feet away.
Kane hung sideways in the air, surrounded by a silver aura, spinning slowly. But it wasn't Kane, at least not my baby boy. This was a child of three, maybe four. Then five, then six, then eight, ten. Twelve.
Abruptly, the spinning stopped, and he curled up in a fetal position, knees tucked in tight against pale flesh. Brown hair hung long and curly, and then he dropped to the dust with an "Oomf."
"That hurt," came a muffled voice.
As I stood there in shock, a pair of bright blue eyes, impossibly large and full of love and a deep, intimidating hardness, looked into my soul.
"Hello, Mother," said my son.
Everything Goes Wonky
"Um, hello?" I ventured, unable to keep up with events, or get anywhere close to understanding what was happening.
The child on the floor shuddered and shook off magic like a wet dog, then he rose, naked and perfect, pale and flawless. He shone like an angel, melting my heart with joy, but I couldn't understand how this could be. It wasn't possible.
"The One," the doppels shouted once, but they didn't move, came no closer.
"Shall we leave, Mother?" asked Kane. He ignored the others, put out his hand.
In a daze, I took his slender fingers in mine and we gripped hard, like nothing could ever part us again.
His touch was electric, like a static charge, but it was also cold. I clutc
hed tighter, ignored the tightening of my skin as it healed, then I staggered as pain stabbed at my mind. Guess I'd fried more than a few synapses with all this going on, and for the first time the magic was actually having to repair my mind. Reconfigure pathways so I didn't go hide in a dark corner somewhere and gibber nonsensically.
We had eyes only for each other, and I smiled at my son, sure of only one thing. That this was him somehow. He had my slightly large forehead, a snub nose of youth, and full lips. His hair was dark now, the chestnut locks giving way to lustrous black. He was slender, verging on skinny, and perfect in every way.
He smiled at me again but there was something going on behind those eyes. Deep thoughts, a decision made. Without warning he leapt at me, grabbed my face in his hands, and we toppled backwards. He pushed against my mouth with his forearm, forcing it open, and his touch sent a shockwave through my body, made my mouth twitch as the familiar tingling signaled that my teeth were about to descend and I'd be in vampire mode.
No, no, no. What was he doing?
I panicked. I squirmed and writhed and beat on his back with my fists, tried to roll him off me but he had impossible power and strength, easily held me fast. I would have to use true violence to defeat him but how could I hurt my baby boy?
"It's okay," he whispered into my ear. "This is how it's supposed to be." He shoved his arm harder against my mouth until I was gagging.
My teeth descended, pierced his skin.
Unwanted blood flowed and the vampire's tears circulated in my son's system.
Somehow, I knew he was right. That if we were to survive, if my son was to live, then he had to be burdened with this terrible thing. And, God help me, I did as he asked. I made my son into a monster.
