The Fly House (The UtopYA Collection)

by Misty Provencher

  Tiddy's lips rose, waiting for Phuck's response. "A skin rug would be the most useful," Tiddy said.

  Wind whirled away from Phuck and launched herself, fingers curled like claws, at the female overseer. It was all too fast. If Maeve had blinked, she might not have seen the venom as it shot from Tiddy's mouth.

  The stream penetrated Wind's neck like a sharp, hot knife.

  Span screamed.

  Wind's head dropped off her neck. Her body dropped like a punching bag.

  Her blood splattered over the white snow. Span dropped to his knees.

  Phuck shouted, but it was over, even before the sound of his reproach faded. He spun on Tiddy and shot a twin line of his own venom. It sheared through Tiddy's neck. Her body hit the ground, landing on her pink-eyed head.

  "Fuck," Maeve gasped. The overseer turned his semi-gaze to her. Diem yanked Maeve behind him, but the Plutian stood frozen with shock.

  Abruptly, the snow stopped falling.

  There was a sound of pebbles and soil spilling into a well. It echoed from the base of the spindling tree, as Diem pointed into the sky.

  "They're coming," he said.

  ***

  Diem watched Span jump to his feet with a whistle. Soar dropped his head with a thomp that shook the ground. Span mounted the dragon, dug his knees to its flanks, and the enormous animal shot into the air like a missile. Maeve, Diem, and Phuck were thrown to the ground by the backdraft. Racing west, over the trees, Soar disappeared as a black dot shot through the sky, aimed straight at them.

  Phuck jumped to his feet and ran off, into the spindlings.

  "It's an alien dragon!" Diem shouted to Maeve as he scrambled to his feet. He hauled Maeve along with him, toward Forge's lair. Maeve couldn't take her eyes off the advancing dot in the sky. She squinted. The form morphed into a black dragon with an underbelly of glinting gold scales that burned the sky. It bore down on the grounds as Diem yanked Maeve inside the lair, smashing her to the wall. From beneath his arm, Maeve saw the mammoth belly of the beast flash by outside, the bright scales burning her eyes with the dragon's signal of attack.

  Diem's whistle was deep and ominous. Maeve struggled to get free from beneath him, but he held her against the wall. She stopped fighting as Forge's roar thundered from the depths of the cave. She clamped her hands over her ears, molding herself to the wall as Diem flattened himself against her. He braced as Maeve glimpsed Forge's head coming at them, through the dark depths of the cave.

  The hard plates of the dragon raced over them like cobblestones as Forge rushed past. Diem whistled again as Forge burst from the mouth of the lair and into the night, her tail nearl

  y crushing them in her pursuit.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Cold Season One, Year 2095

  "Stay here!" Diem shouted at her.

  Maeve didn't move from where he'd pushed her against the wall. The shock struggled to process, her brain stumbled trying to catch up.

  Diem shot out of the lair and whistled again to Forge. The dragon dipped down, gusting over the ground. As she sailed past, he vaulted onto her neck. Diem dug his knees hard into her plates and Forge blasted into the air. They were gone in a breath.

  Diem folded himself flat to Forge's neck as the dragon raced through the sky. The Plutians’ dragons came like hot, angry stars, racing toward them. Without a guide rein, Diem clamped his knees tight as Forge rolled in a spiraling trail before the enemy. She dodged through the line of them while signaling them all with her one broad warning. The next would be a strike.

  But there were too many, even for the great Samoan fighting dragon, and they were coming too fast. Thirteen dragons roared in response to her warning, and six split away, turning to follow Forge. It took every ounce of strength in Diem's legs to force his sheathen to plunge toward the Earth, rather than meeting the six dragons head on. Forge dove as Diem directed her, swooping upwards just before she hit the upraised, barbed fingers of the spindlings.

  Flying this close to the trees, the Galls could not detect them. Untrained in the Earth's night landscape, the Galls' nearsighted vision confused Forge's shape among the dark tree tops. The Plutians’ dragons flapped overhead as Forge glided out from beneath them in the opposite direction. Diem studied the intruders as they passed and his jaw dropped. A paralyzing marble of fear ran down his spine.

  They were definitely Gall dragons, every one of them. There was no mistaking the muddy, burgundy-brown color or the build of the dragons' bodies. They snarled behind razor sharp fangs. Their backs and underbellies were covered in barbs and they held their claws open, as if they were welcoming—no, beckoning—battle. They were more horrible to look upon than any legend had told.

  Too disoriented by the visual static of the forest's canopy, the Galls were unable to get an exact bead on Forge. Still, Diem's breath collared him until they were out of sight of the horrible beasts.

  Forge sped toward the Hold House peninsula. Diem needed to seal the wormhole before more Plutian fighters came through. He had no idea how he and Forge would do it on their own, but with twelve Gall dragons already flying over the Earth, Diem worried that it wouldn't matter anyway. It might already be too late.

  ***

  The snow fell.

  The training grounds stood quiet.

  Maeve's brain tumbled.

  The snow fell.

  Maybe none of it ever happened. Maybe she was waking up in a winter forest. She clutched her head. It would be easy to believe that most of her life had never happened in that moment, as the snow fell and the training grounds stood still.

  "Maeve?" The voice came from a distance, but it was familiar. She looked off to the right, to the hollow spindling where Diem once kept his guide rein, where Maeve had surfaced from the Archive, where Steven Burtman stood now, brandishing a rifle.

  Maeve's mind caught up, but her legs still moved toward Steven on their own. Behind him, others surfaced, her Archive family. Casper, the twins, Phil the Centurion, and Nearly Dead Dave, along with several of the other faces she'd met before leaving. They peered around at the odd trees, at the absence of the buildings and streets of Lancaster. The Archivers put down their rifles one by one. The twins, on either side of Casper, held out their hands to her and Maeve walked into their embrace.

  "Holy shit, it's true?" Amber whispered in her ear. "There are aliens?"

  "The attack just began," Maeve said. "I've got to let the Houses know...there will be people coming, lots of them, and we have to move them underground to the Archive..."

  "Steven told us," Phil the Centurion said. "We thought he went boogers."

  "It was the truth," Maeve said.

  "I tried to tell you," Steven added.

  "What we need to do is get undercover, before we're seen by the enemy," Nearly Dead Dave said, circling the tree with his gun drawn.

  "Where is the enemy?" Casper asked. Maeve felt his neck craning in the fold of her arm. "Steven said there were aliens."

  "They'll be coming," Maeve said, stepping backward. The moment rushed back; what needed to happen fell into place. "I have to go. I have to tell the other Houses," she began.

  "Where are the Houses?" Casper asked.

  "I don't have time to explain it all. You have to trust what Steven told you," Maeve said, hoping to God that Steven had told them and told them what he was supposed to with accuracy. Nearly Dead Dave put a hand on her forearm.

  "Just tell us what you need us to do and we'll make it happen," he said. The relief rushed over Maeve as her words streamed out. The Archivers leaned in to listen.

  "We need a good opening to the Archive. Humans will be coming from five Houses. Women and children, some men. We have to let them know that the battle's started. They need to be down in the Archive, for protection. Any of you who don't want to fight need to stay down there too."

  "Screw that," Amber grumbled. Her twin gasped, but Amber shrugged. "One twin up, one twin down, Ames. We should preserve the family name and give it something to
be proud of at the same time, right?"

  Amy nodded, but her skin dropped to a shade whiter than the snow around them.

  "What the hell's that thing?" Phil the Centurion pointed his gun to the sky. He was aimed at the flabby flanks of a dragon that was dragging itself through the air toward them. The beast looked more like an enormous bumble bee, its feet dragging over the spindlings and shearing off the tips of the trees as it came.

  "Don't shoot!" Maeve shouted. "Flesh is one of the leaders from another House," Maeve continued. "He is coming on his dragon, to guard the Archive."

  Bark stumbled down into the landing, jolting his massive Rha as he came to a halt. Bark crashed down into the clearing, throwing Flesh in the landing.

  Maeve ran to his side with Nearly Dead Dave and Amber right behind her. They helped the panting Rha to his feet.

  "Stay...away," Flesh shouted as Casper stalked Bark in a wide circle. "He'll think...he'll think you're...trying to mate!"

  Casper halted and Flesh wiped the sweat from his face. The Rha stood, hiked up his pants as he observed the Archivers, and then turned to address Maeve.

  "My House is coming, as are those from the Fly House. Why are they all standing about? Ready yourselves! Open your underground, bring up your weapons!" Flesh shooed them with his fingers before turning and issuing orders in whistles to his dragon. Bark lumbered to the nearest spindling and scaled the bowing trunk. The dragon's shrewd gaze alternated between the sky and the spindlings, on high alert for enemies.

  Flesh returned. "Span was here," Maeve told him, but her gut did a sickening flop. She had no idea if Span was a traitor or not. He'd shot off in the direction of Hold House, but Maeve had no way of knowing if the Rha had gone to secure his own House, to try to seal the wormhole, or to escape the whole thing.

  "I saw his dragon and Diem's and the Galls. It is why I came. But we must alert the other Houses to come now," he said. As he spoke, people emerged from the trees. The Archivers drew their guns, until Breathe, Eon and Karma stepped forward, hands high.

  "We saw the Galls come over the House," Breathe said. "Our House is coming behind us."

  "Let us assemble these people to take the Housemen into the underground," Flesh said.

  "I can do that," Amy said. She hugged her sister quickly and retreated, into the opening of the Spindling tree. Breathe followed her and they quickly assembled men on the surface that could lift down the children, and people within the Archive to manage the incoming flow of faces.

  "We cannot wait any longer to tell the other Houses," Journey said. Breathe emerged from the tree at the sound of his voice.

  "How can we get there?" Eon said with a glance at Bark. "We only have one dragon and, no offense Rha Flesh, but he does not look fit for flying."

  "Bicycles," Casper said. "The snow is light. We can use the bicycles from down below."

  Three bicycles were excavated and brought to the surface.

  ***

  Steven may never have been more useful in his entire life as the moment that he jumped in to organize the Archivers. They were all his responsibility now, his people. He would keep the women calm. He would instill confidence in the men. He would lead them all, finally a hero, emerging from the midst of the panic.

  "How does this machine work?" Eon asked, as one of the bicycles produced from the Archive entrance weaved and fell over.

  "You don't know how to ride a bicycle?" Steven gaped. It was an immense hole in the plan. "How many of you know how to ride a bicycle?"

  The Fly Housers didn't offer hands. They looked between one another, some shrugging, some knotting arms over their chests, offended. An elegant beauty stepped forward, her skin as smooth as yogurt, a herring bone braid draped over her shoulder like an exquisite stole. Steven's heart stumbled at the sight of her. Then, an old woman stepped up beside her.

  "We don't know how to work your machines and you don't know where to go," the old woman said. "We would need to warn Hold House, Hot House and Breed House."

  "You don't think Span told his own people, Breathe?" the young beauty asked. Breathe shook her head with a pfft.

  "Who knows what Span would do," she said. The beauty turned back to Steven and Amber.

  "Can your machines hold two people?"

  "On the handlebars, maybe," Amber said. "If they'll even work in the snow."

  "They're mountain bikes." Steven pished, his eyes on the braided girl. "We could go in pairs. One to give directions, one to steer."

  Eon moved in closer, near the girl's elbow. His eyes narrowed.

  "Quit being such a creeper," Amber mumbled to Steven. "You're freaking out the natives. Besides, a mountain bike isn't a three wheeler. If you're going to have her on your handlebars, one snow-covered rock and she's road kill."

  Steven rounded on her. "What other choices do we have? We need to warn the other people and unless you've got a better idea..."

  "I think it will work," the beauty said. "It must."

  Steven's smile wasn't even conscious. He stared at her, imagining her braid bouncing against his nose as he whisked her over the terrain on the bike.

  "You've obviously never ridden on handlebars before," Amber said.

  "We have to try something." The girl's tone wasn't insulted; she was nearly pleading. Steven leaned toward her.

  "What is your name?" he asked.

  "Karma," she said.

  "You and I," Steven swallowed, "we could go, together."

  "No." Eon stepped between them. Steven's head retracted like a turtle, but Karma took hold of Eon's forearm and tugged for his attention.

  "We must do this," she said.

  "Diem wouldn't..."

  "Diem would want our people protected," she said.

  "We'll send someone else. You don't know who you'd run into."

  "I'm sure that whoever we'd run into wouldn't be much against the business end of my gun," Steven said, lifting the rifle.

  "I will go with you," Karma said. Eon considered it a moment, finishing with a nod. He pointed to Amber. "I'll go with you."

  "Fine by me. I keep the gun though," she said. Eon shrugged with one shoulder.

  "Good," Breathe said. "Karma, you go to Hold House. It's closest. Eon, you go to Hot House and Journey and I will warn Breed House," Breathe said. And old man lifted the fallen bike upright by the handlebars.

  "You can't go to Breed House! It's the most dangerous House and you are the Rha's family..." Eon objected. Journey held up a hand.

  "As we are all the Rha's family," Journey said. "Breathe and I are not only the oldest, but you forget, she was a Rha. We can handle ourselves. Survival of our young is the most important and this is how we are most useful right now, so we will go."

  Karma's cough strengthened her voice. "You can work the machine, Gra?"

  "Of course," Breathe laughed easily, taking hold of Karma's cheeks with both hands. "Bikes are just like all the things I've taught you, my love...once you learn, you never forget."

  Steven watched Karma nod, her beautiful wide eyes swimming with tears. He made up his mind right then that he would die before he'd let any harm come to her.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Cold Season One, Year 2095

  "We need to surround the opening of the Archive." Flesh said.

  "You know how guns work?" Maeve asked, reaching for one of the stream of rifles that came up from below, passed hand by hand, to the surface.

  "I'm from the archaic Earth," Flesh grinned. "Of course I know how guns work. Wonderful things. It's nice to see them again."

  The people from the Houses began to flood in from all directions.

  "How do we know that they're all okay?" Phil asked as they swarmed from the tree line. He aimed his gun.

  "Do not shoot!" Flesh bellowed. "Bark will flame any that are Plutians! He can smell a Plutian, see a Plutian! You may shoot whoever is running toward us in flames! If a Plutian gets near us, they'll kill us, so be sure to shoot them dead."

  Maeve watched
Bark as he sat hunched in the sagging tree, his head sweeping from side to side, picking through the humans like berries. His jaws were formidable although his jowls shook like loose chicken skin beneath them. Maeve watched as the dragon's head suddenly jerked skyward.

  The massive dragon ducked and his mouth opened. A shrieking cry suddenly blasted out of the animal.

  The Archivers tightened their guard, backing in around the tree as they jut their guns up toward the sky in all directions, confused by the sound of the dragon's alarm, but unsure of where to aim their weapons.

  The Galls came like a loose knit afghan. Staggered in the sky, six dragons soared high above the dragon grounds. The people from the Houses scattered, screaming, in all directions. They seeded in among the spindlings, but it was no use. The Galls blasted streams of flame that slithered through the spindlings and exploded like bombs over the ground. Bowls of fire jumped up, incinerating groups of people from the Houses as they scurried for their lives.

  The last dragon in the formation swooped down into the opening.

  Maeve's breath evaporated from her chest as the dragon roared across the training field. The animal let loose a blanket of flame. From around the entrance tree, the Archivers fired at the back of the dragon's head and at the dark figure riding upon the animal's neck.

  Flesh shouted direction to the Archivers, "Fire at the rider! Shoot the alien!"

  Maeve dropped her own gun to her shoulder, one eye squinted shut and the other wide in the scope. The rifle shots cracked all around her, but she waited. She tracked the Plutian as the dragons glided over the field, leading her target, until the alien was parallel with her.

  She pulled the trigger. The bullet kicked from the rifle. Maeve scooped in a breath, everything moving in slow motion until the Plutian jerked sideways. The rider tumbled from the back of the Gall and landed with a thud on the ground.