by Amy Sumida
The magic slammed into forty-six minds; I felt each one falter under my spell. Forty-six! I suppose I should have been flattered that they thought they needed so many manticores to take me down—and even more flattered that they'd miscalculated. I stood up, and my lovers stood with me; never breaking contact. My arms stretched out to the sides as I summoned my slaves forth. The manticores came stumbling out of the shadows to the rhythm of my music—a sort of stunted march. Their eyes stared blankly forward from their human heads, their mouths closed loosely over their shark teeth, and their shoulders relaxed. Their human torsos flowed down into lion bodies with fur the color of old blood. Behind them, scorpion tails rested on the forest floor; their deadly spikes waiting to be launched... at my command.
The manticores were mine.
I sang the last lines of the song—the power of our collective strengthening it into something unbreakable—and then I took a satisfied breath. They hadn't even stood a chance. Holy shit; I was starting to scare myself.
“It looks as if we have an army to fight Mimir for us,” I noted as I looked over the mass of manticores.
Gage hefted Odin upright, and I glanced at the Witch elder. Odin's eye was relaxed; I knew he'd be smiling if he hadn't been paralyzed.
“The paralysis wears off pretty quickly for beneathers,” Cerberus nodded to Odin. “Unless you're as bad-ass as I am.” He smirked. “In which case it wouldn't have affected you much at all. But I guess being a Witch doesn't make you more tolerant to poison.”
Odin glared at Cerberus.
“Let me translate that look for you, Cer,” I offered. “Odin said; Fuck off, you poison-resistant mutant from Hell.”
Odin's eye crinkled with amusement.
“Way to ruin a guy's fun, El,” Cerberus huffed.
“Way to take advantage of a fellow soldier, Cer,” I shot back.
“That was shitty, Elaria,” Cerberus whined. “I was just teasing him.”
“Should we leave him here?” Torin looked over Odin skeptically. “We can't be taking him into battle like this.”
“I'm not leaving Odin in the bushes like buried treasure,” I growled as I turned toward Torin.
“Technically, he wouldn't be buried,” Banning pointed out.
“Guys?” Gage tried to interrupt.
“We could take him to the edge of the forest, so at least he'd be nearby,” Declan suggested.
“Excuse me,” Gage persisted.
“What is it, Gage?” Torin stepped back so that we could all see Gage.
Gage stood beside Odin—who was fully recovered; arms crossed as he surveyed us with an amused smirk.
“How the hell did that happen?” Banning gaped at Odin.
“Just a little talon dust on the tongue,” Gage said. “It only took a couple of specks. I think Odin would have come to on his own in a few minutes anyway, but I figured we didn't want to waste any time.”
“You're damn convenient to have around, griffin,” Torin noted. “Those healing talons of yours are worth their weight in onyx.”
“The line is; worth their weight in gold,” Banning corrected.
“Not for me, it isn't,” Torin said blandly.
“I'm glad you're all right, Odin,” I said as I stepped past the men and went to address the manticores.
“Thank you,” Odin murmured. “And thank you for not wanting to leave me in the woods.” He shot an annoyed look at the others.
“Do all of you know who Mimir is?” I asked the manticores.
They nodded, and I cast a glance back at Odin. He scowled as he joined me.
“Ask them if they're working with Mimir,” Odin prompted.
I repeated the question, and the manticores nodded.
“Son of a bitch,” Banning hissed. “That's why they're here.”
“But how did you know that I would be here today?” I asked them.
“We didn't know the exact time you'd arrive, but we knew you'd be coming for Mimir,” a male answered; his voice echoing like a trumpet.
“Sheesh!” Cerberus jiggled a finger in his ear. “Tone it down, loudmouth.”
“Mimir told you that I would be coming for him?” I asked. “Why would he tell you? And respond in a quieter tone.”
This time, a woman answered, “We contracted Mimir to help us find you. He was to kill you if given the chance. If not, he was to lead you to us.”
“Mimir is a fucking assassin?” Banning asked.
“No,” Odin said. Then he huffed, “Oh, who the fuck am I kidding? I don't really know the man at all.”
“Why did Mimir agree to kill me?” I asked the manticores. “Was it simply for money?”
“He thought that you had placed yourself above the rest of the Beneath,” the woman answered again. “He was happy to help us for free.”
“He's just helping everyone who has a bone to pick with me,” I muttered. “First the Trinity, and now the fucking manticores.”
“It was fate,” a male manticore said. “You are destined to die, Spellsinger.”
“Fuck, this guy really hates you if he can speak like that under a slave spell,” Cerberus noted.
“Well, we did slaughter an entire pride,” Torin said dryly.
“A pride that was eating women in Vegas,” I huffed. “Fuck you, asshole!” I pointed a finger at the male's face. “Your cousins—or whatever they were to you—deserved what they got. Now, all of you get your asses in gear and go kill Mimir!” I pointed toward Mimir's hall.
The manticores turned in the direction of Mimir's hall and started to run.
“Well, that worked out nicely,” Odin said with a smug smile.
Chapter Forty-One
We raced after the manticores and came out of the forest just as they knocked down the enormous door to Mimir's hall. The man was the size of a redcap, so he needed a large home, but it was still a little startling to see the massive building looming up before us.
Roars and shouts echoed out to us as the manticores tore through each room in Mimir's home. We went in behind them, searching the rooms more slowly after the manticores had cleared them. Oversized furniture sat on hardwood floors beside massive décor. Talk about livin' large. I felt a little like Jack after he'd climbed the beanstalk.
I started humming the music for “My Favorite Dream” from the movie Fun and Fancy Free. You know; the part where the magic harp sings to Mickey/Jack about where he can find the key to free her... right in the sleeping giant's pocket.
Banning started to laugh. When the others just frowned at us, he whispered, “I guess they're not Disney fans.”
“Heathens!” I hissed dramatically.
“We are in a magic-using, giant God's house, and you two are whispering about Disney songs?” Cerberus huffed.
“Sorry.” I gave Cer a look that clearly said the opposite.
“Please be wary, everyone,” Odin growled. “Mimir could be hiding; just waiting for an opportunity to strike.”
Cerberus gave me a sassy look.
“What are you; a six-year-old girl?” I asked him.
Cer's look disappeared.
The pound and screech of clawed paws preceded the manticores down the stairs at the end of the hall. The main room was a wide, nearly-empty space; which was fortunate since there were so many manticores in it now. One of them stepped forward.
“Mimir is not here,” he said tonelessly.
“You're certain?” I asked him.
“We searched by sight and scent.”
“Fuck!” Odin hissed. “That sneaky bastard!”
“He left the manticores to delay us,” I concluded.
“He left the manticores to kill us,” Odin corrected. “Then he left the vicinity as a precaution.”
“What do we do with them?” Banning waved toward the manticores.
“I find myself in a dilemma,” I mused as I stared at the impassive manticore faces. “They tried to kill me, and they will most likely try again if I let them live. And yet, they are defe
nseless now. I don't know if I feel right about killing them.”
Gage strode forward—shifting one hand into a lion paw as he went—and swept off a manticore's head with a single strike. The head tumbled to the floor and rolled into the space between the manticores and me. The other manticores didn't even flinch.
“Decision made.” Gage glanced over his shoulder at me. “You can't leave such a threat to fester, Elaria. If you have the chance to defeat your enemy, take it.”
“I like this boy!” Cerberus shouted and then started to howl.
We all leapt forward, and the second manticore slaughter began.
Chapter Forty-Two
“Something feels wrong,” Odin said.
I stared at the manticore corpses pointedly and then back at him. “You think?”
“No; not this,” Odin murmured. “This was foul work, but it was necessary. Something else is wrong. We need to get back to Coven Cay.”
My stomach dropped. Odin was very intuitive; nearly to the point of being psychic. If he said something was wrong, then—
You had better move your ass, an image of myself appeared in my mind and spoke to me with my voice. But it wasn't me; it was RS—the Rooster Spell.
I jerked in shock. It had been awhile since I'd heard from her, and I kinda figured she'd gone—
Dormant? She asked and then laughed.
“Stop that!” I hissed.
“Stop what?” Odin asked with confusion.
“Not you; it's the Rooster Spell,” I explained. “She's suddenly speaking to me again.”
“Hasn't she always?” Banning asked.
“No, she hasn't spoken much since I bonded—“
With Kyanite, she finished.
But, of course, no one else could hear her. So, it just seemed as if I'd stopped mid-sentence.
“Cut that out,” I growled. “No one can hear you but me.”
I know; more's the pity. She pouted. I've taken a backseat to that blustering boulder, but you really should listen to me; I have so much to say.
“Like what?” I asked.
“Can you talk to yourself later, Elaria?” Odin huffed. “I really think we should get going.”
Like how maybe that Witch should know better than to leave the home of another Witch without searching his workspace.
“Oh, shit,” I whispered. “Odin, do you know where Mimir's workroom is?”
Odin's eye widened in shock. “Fuck me! Why didn't I think of that?”
“You were probably a bit distracted by the slaughter of all these manticores,” Torin said dryly.
“There's that.” Odin grimaced as he headed to the far end of the room. “Come on; it's through here.”
Odin shouldered a heavy door open, and we walked into a hallway. At the end of the hallway, there was yet another door which led onto a downward-curving stairwell.
“This feels familiar,” I said.
“I taught Mimir to connect with the earth,” Odin tossed over his shoulder. “He built a workspace similar to mine.”
We came out into a room nearly as large as Odin's cave, except this one had walls of hard-packed dirt. Carved into the dirt walls were strange symbols packed with herbs. The floor was covered with stone slabs, and there was a simple, wooden table set before several shelves of spell components and books. To the left of the finished floor, there was more packed earth with a circle of stones laid over it. It didn't have the feeling of power that Odin's circle did, but there was some substantial energy emanating from it.
“What the fuck?” Odin hissed as he cringed.
“What?” I looked around, and the others searched the room with me. “What is it?”
“You can't feel that?” Odin asked as he shivered. “It makes my skin crawl. Mimir didn't just show the Trinity how to do black magic; he's also been practicing it himself. Except he took the proper precautions.” Odin pointed to the symbols on the walls. “It's not the best work”—he frowned at a particular symbol that was losing its herbal filling—“but it's good enough.”
“So, it wasn't just ignorance on his part,” I mused. “Mimir deliberately left the precautions out of his teaching. He set out to infect Tír na nÓg with black magic.”
“Or Primeval,” Odin whispered.
“It would have spread eventually,” I pointed out.
“But that would have taken years,” Odin said with a narrowed eye. “There would be plenty of time to contain the poison.”
“What are you thinking?” Declan asked Odin.
“I'm not certain,” Odin said carefully, “but I suspect that Mimir was more than an assassin. Perhaps he wanted Primeval for himself.”
“You just said he wanted to kill Primeval.” Gage scowled in confusion.
“Yes.” Odin looked deeply pensive. “Kill the forest and clear the land. Primeval is sentient, and as such, it was another threat. Poisoning the trees would have taken care of two obstacles; the forest and the Lesser Fey. Once the trees died, the Lesser Fey would have left, and then Mimir could have taken control of Primeval. A God would have ruled most of Tír na nÓg.”
“But the land would have been dead,” Banning noted. “Why would Mimir want a dead forest?”
“So he could replant and shape it into a non-sentient landscape,” I said softly.
Odin and I shared a terrified look.
“Once he took Primeval, he could push further,” Odin finally said. “Mimir could bring in more Gods and take over the entire planet.”
“Gods ruling Tír na nÓg?” Torin asked as if it were ridiculous. “They couldn't work with the stones.”
“Tír na nÓg is the most beautiful planet in all of the realms,” Odin said matter-of-factually. “The Gods wouldn't care about jewels.”
“Not care about the jewels!” Declan was horrified.
I have more, RS said in a sing-song tone.
“What else?” I asked.
I can feel what our lovers feel—sense what they sense—even when they aren't paying attention to those senses.
“Okay,” I said in a low, annoyed tone. “So, what aren't they paying attention to?”
Ask Gage who he senses here; if there are any scents that seem familiar to him.
“Gage?” I scowled as I turned to my griffin consort. “The RS says there are traces of someone here that you should recognize.”
“Really?” Gage blinked in surprise and then took a deep breath. “It's difficult to determine if I don't know who I'm looking for.”
He started walking around the room; breathing deeply.
“Damn it,” I growled at the RS. “We don't have time for this. Can't you just tell me what he sensed?”
What fun is that? She pouted again. I haven't spoken to you in ages, and now you just want to rush me.
“Eileen,” Gage whispered as he looked at us in horror. “Eileen has been here.”
“Gods damn it!” Odin roared. “I knew there was something wrong. I'm going back to Coven Cay right now; the rest of you can come with me or not.”
Odin pulled out his traveling stone and disappeared.
“Let's go,” I said to the men.
“Hold on.” Declan held up a hand as he approached one of the shelves. “Let's not waste this opportunity.” He started pulling books from the shelves. “There may be something here that could help us.”
“Odin could be facing a shitstorm right about now,” I growled.
“Then help me,” Declan growled back.
All of us went to the bookshelves and grabbed every book that looked as if it might contain black magic spells. We collected as many as we could, and then clutched them to our chests as we used our traveling stones—or eggshell, in Gage's case; it's a Griffin thing—to jump through the Veil to Coven Cay.
There was indeed a shitstorm awaiting us, but at least the Coven wasn't under attack again. This storm was all Earthshaker.
Outside Odin's chambers, there was a gathering of worried Witches. We slipped through them as Odin's rage-fill
ed curses carried out to us. I found Vivian at the head of the group; her frightened eyes making me hesitate.
“What happened?” I asked her.
