Grave Chance

by D. D. Miers

  “How did you even manage to track us to the Endless City?” Gwyd dragged Gil back over to us and threw him on the ground. “It is an impossible task.”

  The ancient monster continued to retreat several paces, oozing its way around us as it waited to see who would be left to feed it. Aethon gave me an evil grin. “Irrelevant. Perhaps you should ask me if I will let you live once I have the candle. Or your friends.”

  Even though I knew they were safe in Gwyd’s home, I faltered. “You don’t have them.”

  “Perhaps you should’ve told them where you were going, so they wouldn’t go looking for you.” His smile widened, but he glanced over my right shoulder, and I rolled to my left as one tentacle shot through the air where I'd been standing.

  “You bastard. You couldn’t have gotten them. They’re too smart to let you.”

  He chuckled evilly. “But you don’t really believe that, do you? Especially if my associate drew them out of hiding for me. Gilfaethwy has proven himself worthy of the reward I promised him.” He took a few steps closer to me. “You should know, this does not end well for him, either.”

  Thanks for the head’s up, asshole.” I brushed myself off and moved closer to Gwyd and Gil, still fighting as if the ancient monster and my equally abhorrent, if not quite as ancient ancestor weren’t even there. If Gil was supposed to die, I needed to get Gwydion back to the fae who might be able to save him from dying alongside him.

  “You know what I want, and I will get it, you cannot stop me from fulfilling my plan.”

  A tentacle shot past my ear, and I shrieked and ducked, staring at the chunk of hair the claw hacked off my head as it floated to the ground. I'd been distracted by the thought of Cole and Ethan in danger, and let the thing creep up on me. I cursed myself silently for my stupidity and drove it back with bursts of energy that seemed to annoy it more than hurt or frighten it.

  Aethon still wasn’t attacking me, possibly because he knew he couldn’t take the candle by force. Or maybe, I thought as the beast crept closer and struck out again, forcing me into a roll, maybe he’s just enjoying this.

  The second option seemed more likely, as Aethon looked on with an eerie calmness, the light in his eyes almost fanatically bright.

  I turned and faced the ancient, hitting it as hard, and as fast as I could with every bit of raw power I could muster, but it coiled its clawed tentacles and shot them out at me, rapid-fire, forcing me to scramble out of the way again. "Fuck narrowing it to a point, fuck controlling many things at once, just fucking stop, goddamn it."

  Aethon continued to bait the monster, hitting it just hard enough to force it into a retreat, but he hadn't broken a sweat, and he obviously had no intention of killing it or scaring it off completely.

  I waited until he turned to watch the Ancient retreat, and hit him in the back of the head, reveling in the small spot of decay that formed before he ran his hand over it and it disappeared again. Fucking necromantic healing, how am I supposed to fight him, when pound for pound he has all the same talents, and more power and control?

  As I weighed my magical options, a sense of alarm tingled between my shoulders. Gil and Gwydion had gone quiet, so quiet I feared the worst. Concerned at the lack of grunts and cursing, I tried to find them. I kept one eye out for the brute and popped up to survey the field of wells, finding Gwyd on the ground, using all his power to keep Gil’s knife away from his throat.

  Gwydion was straining too hard to even cry out for help, his strength faded, but I was too far away to do him any good. I ducked and weaved to stay away from the ancient, out of my line of sight where I crouched to avoid the dozen or so clawed tentacles and tried to close the distance to the struggling fae.

  But Aethon was closer. As I watched, he began to feed Gil power as Gwyd’s was fading.

  I closed as much of the gap as I dared and in turn, I fed Gwydion, but even from a distance, I knew I couldn't outdo my lich ancestor on this front, either. The fae silently strained, Gilfaethwy's stare empty of emotion as he strained to break Gwydion's hold and end them both.

  I launched myself at them, grabbing Gil from behind as he tried to cut Gwydion’s throat. “What the hell are you doing? You’ll both die if you do that.”

  “You have no idea, Vexa, what it is like to be trapped on earth and know your sentence will never end. I will not subject myself to it and killing Gwydion will end my sentence and cause him pain at the same time. It’s a win, win.”

  He rolled his shoulders to buck me off, and I clung for dear life, holding him just out of reach of the bouncing pulse in Gwyd's throat. The power I fed him seemed to revitalize his strength enough to push Gil off him completely. He scuttled backward out of reach of the wicked, slashing blade and I scrambled to his side.

  “Vexa, the beast,” Gwyd gasped, and I threw myself back as two claws sped past my face. I landed on my ass and scuttled backward, while Gwydion shoved Gil off him and rushed to my side.

  “Aethon’s just toying with that thing. I can barely scratch it with my power.” I took a deep breath and tried to slow my racing heart. “Gwyd,” I added in a whisper. “I don’t know what to do. I never thought I’d be here when he found me.”

  Gilfaethwy went to Aethon’s side, and the ancient being rolled back and forth among the wells, waiting for us to deliver it a meal.

  “Vexa, pay attention. This, you need to see.” Aethon gestured to Gil, who knelt in front of him, the knife he’d tried to use on Gwyd held up on his palms in offering.

  “Gil, don’t be stupid. You can’t really believe this is the best answer.” I slowly approached him; my hands outstretched in supplication. “Don’t throw everything away for this monster.”

  Aethon scoffed at me. “You offer no solution to the evils of the world, but villainize those of us willing to do the hard things required to change it.”

  “This won’t end well, Aethon. There is no greater good in destroying the balance of the entire world. Gil, please. You can’t possibly hate us enough that killing yourself seems like a good idea?”

  Gil didn’t even look in my direction. He simply bared his throat for Aethon, who took the blade and slid it across his trachea. A thin line of blood appeared, then poured from him down the front of his body, soaking his shirt in crimson.

  Next, to me, Gwydion gasped, then fell into my arms, the color already disappearing from his face as he weakened. The connection between them had been the thing that kept us from harming Gil on more than one occasion. Now it turned on us, making Gwydion fade along with him.

  “You bastards.” I sniffed and held him tight as they watched me, and the ancient kept its distance, shuffling just close enough to move in once Aethon had killed us both. “I’m sorry, Gwyd, I should’ve gone with you, even if I don’t want a crown.”

  Aethon had won. The candle was the only relic powerful enough to save Gwydion and letting him die was impossible, even if I had listened to his barely whispered command to just let him go and get myself to the Seelie court no matter what.

  I brought the power of the candle to the surface and out of me, calling its power forth to shield Gwydion from Gil's death. I turned my back on Aethon and Gil and covered Gwydion with my body, the power engulfing us both. The flames that had been an almost pleasant pain inside of me threatened to burn me to a crisp as I pressed it to Gwyd, holding it in place even as my hands and torso burned with it and filled my nostrils with the smell of my own burning flesh.

  Behind us, Gil gave a last, gurgling gasp and Gwyd echoed it or rather reversed it, his lungs filling and exhaling hard. He sat up and stared at me with confusion on his face that almost instantly turned to anger and fear.

  Pain screamed over my skin, and I glanced down at the blistering skin that covered my hands and up my arms from the power I'd summoned to save Gwyd. The candle. Panicked, I pushed it back inside me, thrusting the power as deep as I could, but not fast enough. Gwyd shouted a warning a fraction of a second too late as I was jerked away from him and hefted into
the air.

  Aethon grabbed the candle before it could disappear from his reach and threw me as easily as flicking ash from a cigarette. I turned in the air, seeing an upside down Gwyd, the grotesque monster, and the side of the well, right before I tumbled into it and my world turned black.

  Chapter 15

  Water lapped at the side of my face, filling my mouth with salt and sand. “Well, it wasn’t a door to a baby universe,” I muttered to myself as I spit the seawater and debris out onto the beach I’d washed up on. I glanced around to see gleaming water that ranged in color from clear aqua to deep violet, and a bright, cloudless sky with no sun or start to cause it.

  I sat up all the way and looked around. The beach I’d washed up on was gleaming white sand lined with emerald trees that were like palm trees, but not any I’d ever seen, their trunks a creamy off white, the leaves almost translucent, like they were made of gemstones.

  My head felt strangely okay when I thought it should be ringing from my beating and near-drowning, and the aches and pains from the battle and healing Gwydion were all gone. "Small miracles, I suppose, but where the hell am I?"

  I got to my feet and jogged up the beach, away from the gentle waves from the purple alien sea and surveyed my surroundings. The crystalline sand beach stretched on for as far as I could see in both directions, and the ocean’s flat horizon seemed impossibly far across the glassy water.

  “Seriously. Where the fuck am I, and how do I get back before Aethon fucks the world over?” A bark turned my gaze back toward land. “How am I not surprised to see you here?” I asked Mort. “Am I dreaming again?”

  “You are not dreaming, though you are not awake, either.” He trotted to me and accepted a scratch behind his ears when I automatically reached for him. “This is the Distant Shore. Do you like it?”

  “Sure. I’d like it a lot more if I knew Gwydion was okay. Oh Mort, when I saw him last…I don’t know if he…” I remembered the shrieking that I’d realized was coming from my own throat, the smell of burning flesh that was coming from my own hands. There had been burns that crept up my arms to my chest and throat, then Aethon grabbed me and tossed me like so much garbage, Gwydion lying so still it hurt me to think of it.

  The memories rushed over me with a visceral reaction, almost driving me to my knees. I looked down my body and turned my hands over, inspecting them. The skin was soft and smooth, unblemished and unbroken where there should have been burns that had eaten their way to the bones beneath. Instead, there were no signs of any trauma. Even the scar I’d gotten as a child from a loose bolt on a playground was gone.

  “If you knew Gwydion was all right, would you be happy here?”

  His voice pulled me back from the memory of pain and the confusion that it had disappeared…Had it all been a magically induced nightmare? I shrugged. “Well, it’s beautiful here, but what about Aethon, and the guys? What’s happening right now back home?”

  “What is happening there may no longer be within your control.”

  I scoffed at him. “Since when has anything ever been in my control? Control isn’t my best thing.” A light breeze lifted wisps of my hair across my face. “It’s so peaceful and serene, especially with the air moving the through the trees away from the beach. I could wake to this every morning. But you haven’t said anything about the guys yet. Can I bring them here? I’d miss them pretty quickly.”

  He trotted away from me without answering, then turned to see if I was following. “Would you like to see more?” We headed away from the beach and through the trees to a clearing. “I thought you would like to spend time in a place like this after all you have endured.”

  The breeze that moments ago had been moving the palm trees on the beach was quiet in the verdant clearing, barely moving the tall grass and wildflowers that grew there. In the middle, there was a stream, narrow enough to jump over, which I did, back and forth like I was ten years old again.

  “Mort, this place is…almost too perfect.” I thought of the city and how I would miss the smells of bakeries and restaurants if I was stuck in the woods, unable to find a portal back, and immediately I began to smell fresh bread and cookies. “Wait. What the hell was that?” My pulse jumped at the sensory response to my thoughts. Was I trapped in my head again, shifting reality with even the hint of a thought?

  "This is a place of rest, Vexa. You can stay here if you'd like."

  “A place of rest? That doesn’t make sense to me. I ended up here while trying to get home. I need to get home and save the others, like ten minutes ago, Mort. Aethon has the candle.”

  “Yes, and he removed you from the equation when you were at your weakest, burned and hollowed out by the magic you used to protect Gwydion from Gilfaethwy’s fading.”

  “Removed me from the equation.” I snorted. “It sounds like he bribed me, instead of chucking me in a well that emptied into an ocean.”

  Mort sat and tilted his big head to one side. “The well is not what leads to the Distant Shore, Vexa.”

  I rubbed my hands together, reminding me of the scars and wounds that should have been. “I died?” I scoffed and kicked my bare foot, sending seedlings into the air from the wildflowers. “I’m fucking dead, aren’t I? Was it the candle?” My head spun. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. Talk about a plot twist. I was upset at the thought but couldn’t bring myself to be truly angry or afraid. The Distant Shore was too calming, or death negated my most negative emotions, I couldn’t tell which.

  He chuffed at me, grinning. “There are worse things, than this. This place is a reward for your heroism.”

  "I'm no hero. Aethon won unless the guys can stop him without me."

  “The magic you did required sacrifice. Gwydion could live and not fade, but someone had to take his place.”

  “The family story. I used the candle to save a life that was meant to be taken, and death evened the score by taking me. Well, why the fuck couldn’t death have done that to Aethon and saved us all the fucking trouble, then?” I managed to feel the tiniest stirring of frustrated anger at the unfairness of my situation. Because I’d broken the spell of tranquility over the place, the clearing spun for a moment before righting itself again, but my anger had already slipped away again. “So, if I stay, what happens?”

  "You've died. The candle won't work on you. No one can ever touch you again since your body was lost when Aethon discarded you."

  Discarded. That’s exactly what it felt like, I thought to myself. Fucking Aethon threw me out like trash. “At least no one can raise me and use me for ill, I guess.” I sat hard enough that it should’ve hurt, but just like everything else on perfection island, I simply landed on a pillow of flowers. “I can stay dead, and nothing can hurt me. I’m safe. But Cole, Ethan, Gwydion… I would’ve made sure he got safely to Tir Na Nog if I’d known Aethon was going to win.”

  “He doesn’t have to, but it would be harder to defeat him with the candle.”

  I scoffed, grief swelling in my chest. "It would be harder to defeat him from Distant Shore, too. Isn't there anything I can do to help? Magic I can send to Ethan or a message to Cole. If I were a demon, he could summon me. But dead? That was my department. I can't very well raise myself."

  Mort simply stared back at me, one ear flopped over as he tipped his head to the side again.

  “Mort. Is there something I can do?”

  “If you wish.”

  I huffed my impatience at him. “Could you stop being all Zen master for a minute and just tell me? I don’t know how to be dead, only how to raise them.”

  “Because that is what you do.”

  Goddamn it. “Yeah, because that’s what I do.” He continued to stare at me, waiting for me to catch up. “Mort, do I have to stay dead?”

  Finally, he cracked a wide doggy grin, his tongue lolling out contentedly. “No, Vexa, you do not, though it would be a difficult path, both rising and continuing on.”

  “Difficult is par for the course Mort, what do I have t
o do?”

  “Vexa.” His voice was stern enough to give me pause. “You must understand that Distant Shore may be closed to you if you do this. You will no longer be the human you are, and that changes you and your path, forever.”

  “That tends to be the consequence of making choices, no matter who you are. Just tell me, would I be like Aethon?”

  “Perhaps, or like something else completely. Only you know the path you would choose, but know that death may never be an option again.”

  "I've seen a snippet or two of how that can turn out. But I've got to save my guys. Oh, Gwyd's going to be so mad if I saved him, just to force him to endure a humanity that never dies." It wasn't funny, but a razor-thin wedge of panic managed to survive the calm of the afterlife. It caught in my chest, and the thought of him so mad at me for dying and leaving him stuck made me giggle maniacally.

  I wrapped my arms around my legs and sniffled, the humorless laughter giving way to overwhelming grief. “Could I at least see Percy and say goodbye to her?” I would have given anything to erase the last image I had of her, monstrous and terrified, and replace it with the kind, amazing woman who had raised me and helped mold the person I’d become.

  “No. I’m sorry. She is in another place, too far to go to if you hope to return in time to save everyone. You have only a few minutes to decide, then you must make the choice to stay or go back.”

  “She’s not here at all?”

  “There are many havens for the dead.” He paced slowly in front of me.

  “But is she…okay?” That last image of her, insect-like and grotesque, made my throat close for a moment.

  “She is as she was, the monster that Aethon’s magic perverted in her is gone forever. Persephona is the person you knew in life once more, her love for you preserved and the power of the candle removed from her.”

  I could’ve almost cried with relief. Percy, the woman of wisdom and good food, a shoulder to cry on, who would’ve stood between me and any storm if I’d let her, was the woman I wanted to remember. Knowing Aethon had only been able to corrupt her for those last few hours gave me hope that we could keep pushing him back. For all his power over death, his own power was still limited by it…for the moment.