Dark Horse

by E. A. Copen

  I’d have gone over if Haru hadn’t run to grab me. He hauled me away from the side by the shirt.

  “Captain wants to see me!” I shouted.

  “I know,” he answered just as loud. His voice was still almost lost against the thundering waves. “Nobody can see anything. I think he’s hoping that our ability to see souls will be useful.”

  “Do Titans have souls?”

  Haru shook his head as we reached the stairs. “I don’t know. You’re the only one who’s seen one and lived.”

  We fought our way to the upper deck, holding onto the railing for dear life.

  “Can’t see a damn thing!” Jean shouted. “Compass is useless and I can’t get our bearings, but we must be right on top of the damn thing! I need to know if you can see it.”

  Haru wiped salt water from his face. “I can’t see anything.”

  For the first time, my stomach didn’t try to jump out of my nose. Maybe I was too afraid to be nauseous. I blinked away the stinging water and glanced out over the rising and falling waves, seeing only blackness. “No, there’s nothing out there.”

  Jean muttered a curse as another huge wave swept over the Dutchman.

  A dim light suddenly appeared between the waves in the distance. “There!” I shouted. “Behind us and closing fast!”

  More souls appeared in the darkness, glowing reddish orbs of light. They swept by with a familiar screech, prompting Haru to draw his sword. “Harpies.”

  The harpies flew by and landed on the masts, screaming and clawing at the wood.

  “If they bring that mast down, it could be the end of us!” Jean shouted.

  “Um, we’ve got a much bigger problem,” I said.

  Another, larger monster surfaced from the waves, this one a draconic creature with a dozen angry heads and wings that blocked out the whole sky. With the flick of his tail, he sent another fifty-foot wave straight at us. The Dutchman tipped enough that we were parallel with the ocean for a moment.

  “Whatever you’re going to do, you’d better do it!” Jean yelled. “One more of those and we sink!”

  “Get Beth into the crow’s nest,” Haru said.

  I looked over to see he’d just finished tying a rope around his waist, then looked back at the tiny bucket-like lookout spot on the tallest mast. He was right about one thing. That would be the best place for her to blow the horn. It might be the only place high enough for the sound to carry. But it was also currently occupied by three harpies.

  “I’ll clear out the harpies,” Haru promised and rushed by.

  I stumbled toward the stairs.

  “Where is he?” Jean shouted after me.

  I squinted back at him. “Who?”

  “Typhon!”

  Not knowing the correct terminology, all I could do was point.

  Jean nodded and spun the wheel. “I’ll get you as close as I can!”

  I grabbed the railing and pulled myself onto the lower deck. There was nothing to hold onto there and water was rolling over the deck ankle deep now. I’d have to make a run for it in between waves and hope I was fast enough. I waited for one wave to hit the boat before letting go of the railing and half-running, half-falling toward the entrance to the lower decks.

  Something big and black suddenly splashed onto the deck in front of me, a monster I could only describe as a two-headed lump of coal with arms and legs. Black talons slashed at my head. I ducked underneath them and shoved a shoulder into the monster. Its middle was squishy, almost gelatinous like the skin on day-old pudding. My whole arm sank into it before I realized I’d left my Vision on.

  Might as well, I thought and moved my arm up in search of the thing’s soul. Heat slashed across my back as the monster tried to cut me in half. Thankfully, another wave hit, and we slid to the side, which meant his claws only grazed me. I, however, had a hold of his soul. I yanked it out. The monster screamed and turned to dust, clearing a path for me to get through.

  More monsters like the first dropped onto the deck, more than I could hope to fight. One fell right in front of the door to the lower deck and spread its claws, waiting for me to dare to approach.

  Giant hands closed around one of the monster’s heads and twisted. Bones snapped and the head slumped to the side, revealing Hades behind him. The other head tried to maneuver the body around, but he wasn’t fast enough. Hades delivered a bone-shattering punch to the monster’s face, reached into its gelatinous body, gripped its spine and pulled four vertebrae out with ease.

  I would’ve yelled, “Fatality,” if I thought anyone would hear me over the storm.

  “Lazarus,” he shouted as I came near, “what are these creatures?”

  “Don’t know. I need to get Beth up to the crow’s nest.”

  He nodded. “I shall make sure you get there then. Get her!”

  I passed Hades and rushed into the cargo hold where we’d been waiting before. The cabin was practically flooded. Beth was limping away from the hammock gripping the horn. All the movement had made her rip open the temporary stitches, covering her front in dark shining blood. I stepped into the knee-deep water and pushed floating debris out of the way to get to her side.

  “I don’t know if I can make it,” she said, leaning on me.

  “Then I’ll carry you.” I picked her up and waded through the water for the door.

  Another blob monster stood in our way.

  Hades kicked it in the back and snapped its spine in half before picking it up by the tail, swinging it in a circle and letting it fly. “Come on! What are you waiting for?”

  The deck was in chaos. Besides the blob monsters, the headless and hacked up corpses of several harpies lay around. There was enough black monster blood to stain the whole deck black. A screech in the sky made me look up. Three of Typhon’s dragon heads loomed dangerously close, razor-sharp teeth snapping at one of the masts. Five skeletons had climbed up to slash at it with swords, but they couldn’t penetrate the dragon’s scales. One of them finally sank his sword into an eye socket and the dragon heads reared back, roaring so loud my ears hurt. Tails thrashed in the waves and five more heads appeared.

  We reached the ladder up to the crow’s nest just as someone nearby shouted, “Brace!”

  I closed my hand around one of the lower rungs and pressed my body hard against the ladder. Beth did the same.

  Wood cracked and splintered like thunder. Voices screamed. Typhon roared. The Dutchman shuddered as the front of the boat jammed into the body of the Titan. Typhon raged at being struck and huge tentacles slammed onto the deck, tearing up boards and knocking the crew into the sea two at a time.

  “Up!” I screamed at Beth. “Go!”

  She gripped the next rung and pulled herself up.

  Rung by rung, we climbed. She pulled and I pushed, supporting as much of her weight as I could. By the time we reached the crow’s nest, we were both covered in blood.

  Haru was already there, cutting the last of the nearby harpies in half. “This boat is going down,” he observed grimly.

  Even if this spell worked and we defeated Typhon, we’d go down with the Dutchman. There was no other way this could end that either of us could see.

  Beth gripped the edge and pulled herself from the ladder into the crow’s nest. “Gentlemen, focus. I’ve got a job to do. Keep the harpies off me long enough so I can do it.”

  Another harpy swooped in and met with Haru’s sword. I swung my staff at another that dared to come close, but missed.

  Then, suddenly one of Typhon’s dragon heads appeared in front of me. It opened its mouth and let out a roar that knocked me over.

  Beth answered the roar with a blow of her horn. The sound vibrated through the air in visible waves of blue sound. Typhon recoiled when the soundwaves struck him, the dragon head shaking vigorously much like a dog who’d come in out of the rain. Beth took a deep breath, put the horn to her lips and blew again, this time deeper and louder.

  Typhon screamed, all his tentacles retreating. His
heads and tails thrashed around in the water, making waves tall enough to brush the bottom of the crow’s nest.

  A third cry from the horn and the wind stilled. Clouds parted and the pink rays of dawn shone through. With the fourth bellow from the magic horn, a lance of magic exploded from it and slammed into Typhon like a spear made of light. Everything the light touched turned to ash, falling like flower petals into the sea.

  “Look out!” Haru shouted.

  I turned just in time to see a giant black tentacle careening toward us. The sound of snapping wood filled my ears, and everything suddenly went dark.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  I woke up to the sound of a bell ringing and an unpleasant bump on the head. Wet, fleshy things were wriggling all around me and my mouth tasted like bad sushi. I opened my eyes and found two of the most confused shrimpers ever staring down at me in wonder.

  “He’s alive,” said the older of the two in a heavy Cajun accent. “Come see, Ti-Joe.”

  “I see ’em, ol’ man,” said the younger fella. “You a lucky sumbitch.”

  I don’t remember much of the boat ride home other than feeling cold and gross. I slept through most of it wrapped in an old army blanket tucked in the belly of a shrimping boat named Networth. The shrimpers played the radio report for most of the ride back on a beat up old all-weather radio.

  Albus, the hurricane, had apparently blown itself out and vanished off the radar about fifty miles off the coast. Every weather expert and their brother wanted to weigh in on what happened because it shouldn’t have been possible.

  Ti-Joe weighed in with a conspiracy theory about aliens at one point to which his old man snorted and answered in Cajun French, “The Lord works in mysterious ways.”

  Aside from localized flooding and some looting, New Orleans was just fine. She’d stand just like she always had, shaken, but unbroken. The first throngs of people had already returned to the city by the time we docked, as evidenced by the ambulance waiting on me.

  While they strapped me into the stretcher, I got Ti-Joe’s attention and asked him if they’d pulled anyone else out of the water.

  He removed his hat and shook his head. “You the only one, friend.”

  My heart sank into my toes. Most of the people on board weren’t technically alive, but Haru was. I hoped he’d washed ashore elsewhere. I’d also hoped to recover Beth’s body for a proper funeral. She deserved that much.

  They wanted to keep me in the hospital overnight due to the usual: dehydration and the normal low body temp. When I told them I didn’t have insurance and a couple of sports drinks would do me, they made me sign extra paperwork and released me on my own recognizance. With no money on me, getting home was interesting, but I eventually flagged down someone going in the right direction and bummed a ride as far as the end of my road.

  Seeing the house still standing was more of a relief than I expected. I almost collapsed under the rush of emotion that hit me. I’d been so prepared to walk away and never see it again. Now I had to go through those doors and face sorting through Pony’s belongings, help arrange several funerals, and oversee Finn’s treatment of Emma.

  Emma... She would be waiting for me. I’d told Karasu to take her back to my house and Finn to meet us there. There was still one more thing I had to do. I swallowed my fear and found the strength to stand.

  I found the front door unlocked and staggered through only to stop and consider walking right back out. It looked like my house on the inside, but someone had gone through and cleaned the place. All the dishes were clean and neatly stacked in the cabinets, which had also been wiped off. The floor was clean enough to eat off of. The living room rug had been vacuumed, the trash taken out. Even the giant pile of laundry that was usually right next to the washer was gone.

  “Welcome home.” The sound of Nate Frieder’s voice almost gave me a heart attack. I hadn’t seen him in months. Here I thought he was done with me after all that’d happened. Now, he stood in my kitchen with a dish towel over his shoulders and yellow rubber gloves on that went all the way to his elbows.

  “Nate,” I said, my voice raw, “what’d you do to my place?”

  He pulled the towel down from his shoulder and walked over to tuck it neatly against the front of the stove. “I cleaned it. I had help, of course. It was really too big of a job for me.”

  “Why?”

  Nate looked around and shrugged. “You’ve been gone for three days. No one was sure you were coming back. But if you were, I figured you’d be hurt enough you wouldn’t be able to clean up after yourself for a while. Look at you though. On your own two feet.” He smiled and pushed his glasses up. “I guess you’re still full of surprises.”

  “Guess I am.”

  “Actually,” he said, folding his hands, “I originally came here to see to a different patient.” Nate looked over his shoulder at the living room behind him.

  I passed him without a word and stopped in the doorway. Emma lay on the sofa hooked up to an IV of clear liquid, eyes closed as if she were asleep. Karasu the Tengu stood at the far end of the sofa, flipping through a paperback.

  Persephone paced between me and Emma, arms crossed. She stopped pacing when she saw me and uncrossed her arms. “Lazarus.”

  I nodded to her. “Persephone. Did your husband make it home?”

  “With some wild tales about the greatest battle he’d ever witnessed. Thanks to you.” She came to me, took my hand and kissed me on the cheek. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. I’ve still got to find him a suitable body. Speaking of, let me know if you’ve got a particular model in mind and I’ll make the call.” I patted her hand. “How is she?”

  “She hasn’t been awake since we brought her here.” Persephone’s hands slid from mine and she looked back at Emma with a tired smile. “I held out hope that you were still alive.”

  “Of course he’s alive.” Karasu snapped the book shut. “He’s a Horseman. Takes more than a little salt water to keep a good man down.”

  I turned my attention to the Tengu. “Speaking of Horsemen, about Haru...”

  Karasu waved a wing at me. “Alive. Washed up somewhere in Alabama. Said he was, and I quote, taking some much-needed time off. Whatever he saw out there, must’ve been something. Haru doesn’t take many vacations.”

  The toilet flushed and the bathroom door opened. Finn stepped out drying his hands on one of my good towels. “Might want to let that one air out a bit,” he said, closing the bathroom door behind him. “Lazarus! Looks like I owe Birdman here a twenty.”

  “Betting against a Horseman is never wise.” Karasu said. “And keep your money. You’ll only try to steal it back when I’m not looking, and I don’t feel like breaking your arm today.”

  “If I was to steal from you, crow, you’d never get the chance.” He clapped his hands together. “Well, let’s get to it then. I’m eager to even out this debt.”

  Nate was suddenly beside me, offering me a cup of tea. Normally, I’d ignore it in favor of coffee, but anything warm would do considering the last few days.

  I took it and sank down into the one free chair while Finn came around to the front of the sofa. “Is it complicated?”

  Finn rolled up his sleeves. “For your average wizard? Absolutely. For me? Not at all. Two shakes and she’ll be back to her old self with hardly any side effects.”

  He waved his hands over her body, wiggling his fingers in silence while I turned on my Vision to look at her soul. The spell had wound tight around and through her soul, crowding out all the light that was naturally there like a dark, choking vine. There was no end to grab hold of that I could see. What little damage I had done to Loki’s spell had already disappeared.

  Finn’s fingers sank into Emma through the skin in the same way my hand could pass through flesh. Emma’s body jerked and I jumped to my feet, ready to rush to her defense.

  “Easy, big guy. The spell has spread further since the last time I looked.”

 
; I leaned forward and licked my lips. “But you can still fix it, right?”

  He turned his head and narrowed his eyes at me. “If you get out of my light, maybe.”

  I stepped backward.

  “That’s better.” Finn moved his hands, gently pinching a thin section of the spell. He gave it a gentle tug and it moved a fraction of a centimeter. Biting his lip, he pulled harder and it slid an inch at most. Slowly, inch by inch, he tugged on the dark spell, threading it from one finger to the next. The more he pulled, the more it tightened around the glowing silver ball of light in her chest, her soul, and the tighter the spell became, the faster Emma’s soul spun. With the next tug, the spinning faltered and sparks flew. Emma’s body jerked again and her head slumped to the side. Her soul flickered a brief moment until the light faded.

  “Stop it!” I grabbed Finn’s shoulder. “You’re killing her!”

  Finn pushed me away. “She’ll be fine if you let me work! Whoever cast this spell was good, good enough to build in redundancies and failsafe measures that I have to undo first. I’m at the most delicate part. If I stop now, the spell snaps back tighter and chokes the life out of her.”

  “You’re choking the life out of her as it is!” I gestured back to Emma. The light had come back, but I was sure I’d seen it go out for a moment.

  Persephone’s fingers tightened around my arm. “Let him try, Lazarus. I once had to trust you with the soul of someone I held dear.”

  She was right. Finn was the only chance Emma had. I closed my eyes, let out a breath and stepped back.

  Finn must’ve worked for hours, long enough that the sun went down and Karasu had to turn on the light to continue reading. He pulled on threads here, tugged and loosened there. I never saw him rip or cut anything, and yet as the moon rose high in the sky, he pulled free a single thread of magic and declared, “Got it!”

  His fingers moved like a seamstress’ pulling out a bad seam, gently passing the long tail of thread to the next hand to tug again. The moment the spell threads left her body, they disappeared into dust the same way Loki had. As Finn pulled more and more of it out, Emma’s soul brightened.