by Linsey Hall
But now the events would replay, wouldn’t they?
A moment later, a seal climbed onto the beach.
The seal woman.
As expected, she removed her skin and ran up the shore, having no idea what waited for her when she returned.
It didn’t matter if I turned back time but didn’t change anything. Everything was going to happen just as it had before, unless I stopped it.
I had to stop it.
The moonlight gleamed on the man as he snuck out of the bushes and moved toward the seal woman’s skin. His movements were furtive, and the briefest flash of guilt seemed to race across his features.
Could I convince him to change his mind, if there were already a spark of guilt there? Probably not, since the seal woman’s tears had done nothing, but I could try.
I crept toward him, moving quickly and silently amongst the rocks. He was almost to the skin when I jumped in front of him. "Don't do it. You'll regret it."
Shock flashed across his pale face, then his eyes hardened. "Who the hell are you?"
"It doesn't matter. But I know what you're going to do, and it's wrong. You can't kidnap her."
"Why? She's not even human." He shifted closer to the seal skin, his fingers twitching.
He’s still going to do it.
Disgust bloomed within me. “You're a monster." I glanced up the beach to where the seal people were dancing under the moonlight. Their laughter echoed across the shore, joining the sound of crashing waves and creating a joyful symphony. "They look pretty human to me."
The man scowled, and I could see how much he didn't care. There was nothing but greed and desire in his eyes, and I was just in his way.
He moved toward the seal skin, inching a bit closer.
I shifted left, getting in his way. “I’ll stop you." But I really didn't want to have to. I wanted him to make the decision for himself, though that seemed unlikely now. “I won’t let you do this.”
He gave me a look, his slimy gaze traveling up and down my body. "Maybe I'll make you my wife."
More disgust filled me. "That's not how this works. That's not how any of this works."
He’s got a seriously skewed worldview. Muffin’s voice sounded from behind, and I assumed he was hiding behind the rock.
The man drew a glinting silver knife. "Then I'll kill you."
“Is that how this works in your world? Wife or dead?" I scowled at him. “That's insane."
The annoyance on his face turned to rage, and he brandished his blade.
Annoyance flashed through me, and I drew my own sword from the ether. "Two can play at that game.” I grinned. “And I always win."
He spat at my feet. “I don't like aggressive women."
"And I don't like slimy worm men." I grinned at my insult, delighted when he bellowed and charged me.
As the seal people danced behind us on the beach, oblivious to our battle, I collided with the man.
I didn't want to kill him, so I would have to be clever.
His blade flashed out, swiping for my middle. I sucked in, darting back just in time to avoid the blow. I kicked him in the stomach, sending him flying backward.
"You don't have to do this.” I stood over him, my blade raised. "You can go meet a nice woman in the village and convince her to be your wife. You don't have to steal the life of the seal woman."
I could see in his eyes that my words did not register. He didn't want a normal woman from the village. He wanted to torture the seal woman by kidnapping her. She was just a thing to be owned by him.
No way in hell was I going to let that happen.
The man leapt to his feet and charged me, then swung his blade in a wide arc that sliced my arm. Or at least, it should have. He made contact, but the steel couldn’t pierce my jacket.
Hell yeah. The Seamstress’s gift was like armor.
“Didn’t see that coming, did you?” I darted right, then swung my own sword, aiming for his leg.
He dodged just in time, and I questioned my desire not to kill him. I knew what he would do in the future, and it would be terrible. He would kill and destroy lives, and his selfishness would hurt future people in his village once the seal woman laid down her curse.
But still, I didn't want to kill him if I could help it. I didn't want to have too much effect on this story. But I was determined to save the seal woman.
Incoming! Muffin’s voice sounded, saving me just in time as the man stabbed his blade toward my stomach.
I dodged, then attacked, swinging my blade as fast as I could toward his legs, but he was too quick.
He was a good fighter, the bastard.
We danced around each other on the beach, avoiding sword strikes. The moon provided enough light that I could see the blood lust in his eyes. I landed a blow to his thigh, and crimson welled. He returned the favor, delivering a thin slice to my calf. Pain flared, and I hissed.
The man lunged toward me again, his sword outstretched. His foot landed in the crevice between two rocks, and he fell, somehow going down on his blade in a way that sent the dagger driving through his heart.
I stumbled backward. "Holy fates."
It looks like you don't have to kill him after all. Muffin grinned, his fangs glinting in the moonlight. And I say good riddance to bad rubbish.
I sat on the rock, my lungs burning and heart speeding, and stared at the man's body. He twitched one last time and lay still. "Well, you were a bastard. I can't say that you didn't deserve it, nor that I'm disappointed I didn't have to deliver the blow."
It was a win-win, as far as I could see.
Muffin jumped up on the rock next to me. You still changed history.
"It's just a story." But still, I wondered if I’d done the right thing. Stories had purpose, after all. This one taught that you shouldn’t abuse others.
But I was here. The seal woman was real, at least in this story realm. I couldn’t watch her life go down the drain without helping.
And the man had killed himself, after all.
I looked toward the beach, where the seal people were dancing in the moonlight. Their laughter echoed across the shore, making something inside of me feel lighter.
I had to believe I’d done the right thing. I had to.
A moment later, the earth spun around me. Briefly, my vision went black. When I opened my eyes, I was back in the enormous white room, sitting in front of the green fire and surrounded by the cloaked figures. Lachlan sat next to me, shock in his gaze.
I looked at him. "How long was I gone?"
"Only seconds."
“Felt like longer." I looked at the cloaked figures. "Did I do the right thing?"
"What did you learn?" The voices of the twelve Elders echoed in unison.
I sat back. What had I learned? I didn’t care about that right now. “Did I do the right thing?"
"What did you learn?" The words boomed louder.
Okay, they were not going to answer that question. Apparently, that was for me to decide, or for history. Either way, I didn't regret saving the seal woman. I couldn't imagine the pain of years of captivity, or the agony of having my family killed. And then all the deaths that came after, once her curse had been laid down.
"I did the right thing."
"What did you learn?"
I sat back, my mind racing. What was this meant to tell me? And how did it relate to the tattoo? Understanding flared. "I can change fate." Holy crap. "I changed fate. Not just in stories, but in real life.”
"One person's selfishness can change history." The voices boomed in the open space. "One person’s goodness can do the same."
I wanted to fist pump. That meant I had done the right thing. Not just in my world, but in the real world.
The figures spoke again. “When you return to your realm, you must use this power wisely. You can alter the course of history, and that can cause great damage. Be wary.”
I heard their warnings, but my mind raced with thoughts.
I could change fate.
Who changed fate in Celtic myth? Because that's where this power had to come from, right? And didn’t this make me like an opposite side of the coin to the Fates?
I had the power that they no longer possessed.
It made me their perfect enemy.
No wonder I was fated to fight them.
The Elders stared at me, shaking me away from my questions.
Right now, I had to figure out how to save my friends. I raised my hand, showing them my tattoo. “I will be careful with this power. But how exactly does this help me save my friends? How does it help me get the tattoo off?"
“That tattoo is a component of the Doomsday Spell, one of the most dangerous pieces of magic ever created.” Their voices deepened with seriousness.
I shivered. Freaking Doomsday Spell? “What is the Doomsday Spell?”
“The spell allows a group of powerful supernaturals to be enslaved. If the Fates control individuals as powerful as those at the Protectorate, they could use them to destroy the world and bring about Doomsday.”
Horror welled in my chest. “That’s evil.” It was one thing to destroy the world. It was another thing entirely to use good people to destroy the world. I could be used to destroy the world? Hell no. “And it was stupid of you to create such a spell.”
I shouldn’t have said it, but I couldn’t help myself.
Every one of the Elders of the Indomidae glared at me. I smiled weakly, not willing to take the words back.
The Elders glared again. “If you desire to stop the spell, you must locate the Doomsday Stone and destroy it. It is what the Fates seek as well. They can use the stone to ignite the magic in the tattoo and make the enslavement curse invincible.”
"Invincible?" Lachlan asked. "Do you mean that the Seawort protection potion won’t be able to block the power of the tattoo if the Fates get the Doomsday Stone?"
The Elders answered him in unison. "Precisely. The stone is used in the last part of the spell, and it will make the enslavement permanent—no Seawort potion or other magic will be able to break the curse if the Fates obtain the Doomsday Stone. You will be enslaved for all days. The stone is so powerful that even a piece of it is enough to cast the Doomsday Spell.”
Why did supernaturals create such powerful magic in single objects? It was so damned dangerous. “Do you know if the Fates have already found the stone?”
“They have not.”
Okay, so we had to move fast to beat them to it. “What do I do once I get the stone?”
“You must destroy it and kill the Fates. Then the tattoos will be removed, and you will be free. But obtaining the stone will be difficult.”
Of course it would be.
“Where is the stone?” Lachlan asked.
Their voices echoed as one, reverberating around the chamber. “You must go into the depths of hell. Into Dante’s Inferno.”
Oh, that was just perfect.
8
Fortunately, the Indomidae were able to send us straight back to the Protectorate castle. Since we didn’t meet Fearnan within the twenty-four hour window he’d given us, I assumed he’d found a compass and returned to Demonville. Unfortunately, it meant walking into their green fire, which was also a portal. It had been very unpleasant, but fortunately brief.
“First things first, let’s find Jude,” I said as we crossed the castle lawn. It was strangely silent for a mid-morning.
“Aye.” Lachlan nodded. “Then we eat.”
My stomach grumbled, agreeing that it was a fabulous idea.
As soon as we stepped into the castle, I caught sight of Jude on the landing. Her starry blue eyes went straight to us. “Any luck?”
I nodded. “We’ll update you. Want to go to the round room?”
She shook her head. “Kitchen. You look like you could use a meal.”
It was like she’d read my mind. The Cats of Catastrophe hurtled down the stairs a moment later, as if they’d heard the word meal.
We all gathered around Hans’s scarred wooden table in front of the fire, tucking into plates of sandwiches and boxes of juice.
“We’re too busy for real meals these days, alas.” Hans’s mustache quivered with disappointment.
The cats didn’t seem to mind digging into piles of sliced turkey, and I was certainly enjoying my sandwich. I told him so, but he just nodded and turned.
“The castle is under great strain,” Jude said.
Lachlan polished off the last of his sandwich. “No surprise. But we’ll get it settled. Soon.”
Jude’s gaze sharpened. “What did you learn?”
I told Jude all about the Doomsday Spell and the corresponding stone that was imbued with the magic to make the spell official.
“So, this whole time, the Fates have been seeking different pieces of a puzzle that will enslave the Protectorate,” Jude said.
I nodded. “I think so. They got the first part of the spell from the Celtic Otherworld when they invaded my mother’s village. They also needed power to fuel the curse, and I assume that’s why they stole Arach’s heart. They must have gotten enough from it to enact their plan.” I could still remember the contraption they’d hooked the heart up to and the way power had dripped from the stone heart. We’d saved the heart, but not retrieved the liquid that had dripped from it. It must have been imbued with strong magic.
“They’re getting the last part of the spell from the Doomsday Stone,” Lachlan said. “We just have to stop them before they get it.”
“Where is the stone?” Jude asked.
“The Indomidae said that we can find it in hell,” I said. “Dante’s Inferno, specifically.”
Muffin’s ears perked up. Dante’s Inferno? The nine levels of hell?
“Yes. Why, do you know it?”
“What is your cat saying?” Jude asked.
I’ve spent time there. I know some shortcuts through the different levels, all the way to the bottom. We’ll get there fast. Faster than the Fates.
Heck yeah. That would help. I turned to my human companions. “Muffin has spent time in Dante’s Inferno.” I’d have to make a point to ask him why. “He said he can lead us through the nine levels to get to the bottom, which is where the Indomidae said the stone would be encapsulated in ice.”
“Why would the stone be in a hell that was explored by an Italian poet in the fourteenth century?” Jude asked.
“I don’t know.” I frowned. “Maybe because he is Italian and the Fates are from Italy? That’s the only connection I could find.”
“There’s got to be something else,” Lachlan said.
We’d have to figure it out. The Italian poet Dante Alighieri had written an epic poem about the hell so long ago. But it could be a useful guide for us since it explained the nine different levels of hell and all of the souls who inhabited it. But then, we also had Muffin.
Magic shimmered in the air, making the spot in front of the fireplace grow hazy. A moment later, Arach appeared, her semitransparent form shimmering. Her somewhat reptilian features were strangely beautiful when viewed with the fire behind them.
“Did I hear you mention Dante Alighieri?” She drifted toward the table, interest glinting in her eyes.
I nodded. “Yes, what do you know of him?”
“He was an early member of the Protectorate, centuries ago.”
“Really?” Jude’s brows rose. “I had no idea.”
“There have been so many members, I am not surprised you cannot recall all of them.” She smiled. “I never met him during his tenure here—I spent much of those decades resting beneath the castle, regaining my strength from a battle in the previous century—but I do recall his name.”
“Huh.” I leaned back in my chair. “So it’s possible he went to the Inferno on a mission for the Protectorate, then wrote about it.”
“If he did, he never mentioned the mission in his book,” Lachlan said.
“You’ve read it all?” I asked.
He nodde
d. “It was…odd. From another time.”
“He was a strange one, from what I have heard,” Arach said. “There were whispers. He was not right in the head. And not in a harmless way.”
“I got the sense from his writing that he was very fascinated by the misery of hell,” Lachlan said.
Definitely an odd duck, then. Muffin scowled, his lined face creasing even more. Because that place is freaking miserable.
“Should he have been at the Protectorate, then?” I asked.
“Perhaps not. But like I said, I was asleep for most of his life. I don’t know any details. He may have been harmless.”
“Well, we’ll get started right away,” I said. “Maybe we’ll figure out what Dante was doing down there. And why he was so odd.”
“I would not hold your breath.” Arach frowned. “That is the correct phrase, is it not?”
I nodded. She was ancient enough and spent enough time sleeping beneath the castle that modern phases were difficult for her.
She smiled. “Excellent. Well, do not hold on to your breath. That was so long ago that I imagine the information is lost.”
“That’s fine,” I said. “As long as we get that damned stone, I’m satisfied.”
We finished the meeting quickly, with Jude updating us on the progress of everyone else. My sisters were busy collecting enough Seawort to protect all the cursed members for a short while, though they were having a hard time finding enough. The FireSouls had almost found the Fates, and I hoped they’d succeed. I’d rather bring the battle to them than the other way around.
After the meeting, Lachlan and I changed clothes in my apartment and then set out with the cats. Muffin’s knowledge of the shortcuts through hell would give us a good jump on the Fates, if they, too, were after the stone already.
As the five of us walked down the sweeping staircase, I looked at Muffin. “Why were you in Dante’s Inferno?”
How do you think I met my crew? He looked pointedly at Bojangles and Princess Snowflake III. It was our first job, robbing level four.
“What could you possibly want in hell?”
Oh, you’ll see. Level four. He sounded wistful.
