Summon (Rae Wilder)

by Fletcher, Penelope

  “I make it look easy. She’s powerful.”

  The blade bit deeper into the scarred flesh of my throat.

  “Release her.” Wasp’s eyes were dead, an apt counterpart for her hollow tone. “I’m not afraid to die. I ran once, but not this time. This time I fight.”

  “As you wish.” I shoved Gwendolyn away. “She’s yours.”

  The vampire Queen twisted in the dirt, snarling. Her attention shifted solely to the dreadlocked fairy hissing at her. Both their expressions were intense with hatred, and both capable of destroying the other.

  Wasp circled Gwendolyn, waiting for her to stand. “Now, bitch Queen, you die.”

  No longer interested, I snagged a passing zonbi, and ripped its limbs off as I scanned the battle.

  Damballah was caught in the middle of a skirmish. Two werecats, a werewolf, three zonbi and a vampire surrounded him. He fought all with equal fervour, confusing them into attacking as one.

  “Pointless,” I muttered. “There’s cosmic equilibrium, and there is stupidity.”

  I tossed the limbless zonbi torso. It bounced and rolled towards a werecat mauling the carcass of a werewolf. The blood-crazed shifter fell on the moaning zombie with frenzied desperation.

  I trudged through the mounting rush of muddy water flooding the streets. The riverbanks have broken. The water lapped at my shins. It drenched the end of my cloak, soaking the material to mid back, and churned into rapids where piles of rubble disturbed the flow.

  Still the winds howled. Cold rain fell in wet slashes. The clouds broke apart to expose a blood-misted moon then covered the starry sky in a roiling mass of grey.

  While I desired to end the rain and improve visibility, my affect on the weather was nominal at best.

  A tempest this wild was endured until it raged itself into submission.

  Raising my arm, ready to begin a fight that would cost my life, I paused as Conall rushed into the fray and engaged Damballah in combat.

  A ragged scream ripped through the clamour.

  Startled by the suffering in the cry, I twisted and clucked in exasperation.

  Gwendolyn bent Wasp over her arm and tore into her throat.

  If you want something done….

  I conjured a particularly nasty spell that would wrap Gwendolyn in agonizing pain before she burst into ash.

  A pale hand batted mine aside as the spear of power leapt from my palm. It decapitated an unnamed vampire darting past the wrong place at the right time. Annoying since the splendid effect of the spell ended up wasted on a headless corpse.

  Hell, this so called Queen will live forever if fate has its way.

  The dark-haired creature stood before me jabbed a finger at Gwendolyn. “Not by you.”

  Puzzled, I cocked my head, fascinated by his defiance. It took a moment for me to recognize who he was. “Gwendolyn’s consort and Marinette’s distraction.” My memory of him deepened. As did my understanding of why he’d shown up with my sister. “You do know Rae is in love with Breandan.”

  The phantom’s eyes were unreadable. “I’m aware.”

  “So where do you fit in?”

  “Nowhere. I never have.” He stared past me, but when he looked back he seemed at peace with something. “Breandan has Rae. He will see her safely from the city.”

  Gwendolyn dumped Wasp’s lifeless body and swiped a hand over her mouth. “To think I loved you, Tomas. Grieved for you. Yearned for the blood tie to bind us.”

  “Help your kin retreat,” the phantom told me. “I shall deal with mine.” To an unobservant eye, Tomas remained unaffected by the vitriol his former lover spewed. I glimpsed a flicker of pain within his deadened eyes. “I’m inclined to think your grief was selfish and short lived,” he said to her.

  “Indeed. I got right back up and carried on.” Liar. She tittered. “I’ve moved on, but you’re decidedly stuck. Where is she, Tomas? Your precious fairy.”

  The phantom jerked towards her then stilled. He scrutinized her pleased expression. “What do you know, Gwen?”

  “Other than you were a fool to choose her over me? Much.” She tapped her temple. “I see,” she giggled, “a distinct lack of air.”

  Bored of what was to become a bitter dispute, I sought Conall, curious as to how he fared with the godling. I cut a bloody path in their direction all the while marvelling at my Elder’s proficiency with magics and a blade.

  Skilled as he was, Conall was getting his ass handed to him.

  Damballah fought with his bare hands and feet. He evaded Conall’s every move, staying low, rolling and ducking. He moved with ethereal grace, swaying from side to side as if dancing to drums. He whistled tauntingly only stopping to holler when he landed a blow with the knobby end of his bone cane.

  Conall’s reaction to the soft hits were staggering.

  Plum-coloured bruises formed on his flesh. The blotchy patches mottling his skin looked painful. Not a hint of pain creased his expression, but his movements were sluggish, wooden.

  He needed help.

  Will he accept mine?

  Damballah raised his arm to land a blow across Conall’s face that would likely render him unconscious.

  Sneaking up behind, I grabbed the cane and yanked it from Damballah’s grip.

  Power zinged up my arm.

  Imparting power into an object. It’s how those cursed amulets locked the grimoire. Foolish Vodoun. His greatest weapon is his greatest weakness.

  With relish, I twirled the cane, clasped each end then snapped it across my knee. I tossed the blackening pieces at the godlings feet. “Are you healing, Conall?”

  Expression curdling, he mumbled a reluctant, “Thank–”

  I threw him a withering look. “Spare me the awkwardness.” My brows mashed together noticing the bruises faded too slowly. “Your body nears the brink of collapse.” I slammed my hand to his chest and pushed healing magics from my palm.

  Jolting at the bang of energy that leapt from me to him, Conall grunted. “Your touch is rough. You force the flow of healing rather than coaxing the body’s natural reserves into quickening.”

  “Terribly sorry.” I kept Damballah in sight. “My method may not feel pleasant, but it’s effective.”

  Conall and I warily circled the godling.

  Magics thrummed around my forearms, wrapping them in swirls of icy radiance. Sparks crackled from my fingertips when I snapped them impatiently.

  Damballah pressed his lids closed, and his lustrous brows drew close. He shuddered then opened solid white eyes. “Marinette and Ti Malis exist,” he boomed. “I must endure.”

  Conall and I exchanged a look. I asked, “And why is that?”

  “We are triad. I balance the paths they tread.”

  “What is he talking about?” Conall demanded.

  Studying the godling’s impassive face, I knew what I had to do. “Then we shall destroy your vessel. Your spirit may leave. If one of the other two die hunt the survivor. If they’re both destroyed you remain neutral.”

  Damballah turned pensive. Body relaxing, his eyes cleared. He opened his arms and lowered his head. “Agreed.”

  A shower of flames ignited from my hands. They consumed his still form then froze. Conall swung his sword and shattered the pillar of flesh and ice.

  Hovering a few feet from the ground was a humming ball of pure energy that levitated into the sky.

  We stared at the glowing light.

  “He watched as members of my Coven were mauled.” I created a sparkling sphere of power. “I don’t feel he suffered enough.”

  “I concur.” Conall conjured a glassy ball of red-hot fire. “He killed innocent Knights.”

  We both hauled back and tossed our magics at the retreating nebulous.

  The impact knocked us off our feet. The demons fighting around us suffered the same fate.

  Ripples of heat and light blasted through the streets.

  The all-consuming curiosity innate to fairykind ran through me strongly, and I shield
ed myself with a bubble of magics. I watched, enraptured, as colour-tinted winds fanned from the collision of raw energy.

  Nature is ugly at times, but right now, it’s beautiful.

  Energized, I gained my feet dusting off my tattered clothes. “He’s too powerful to destroy, but he’ll think twice before challenging us in future.”

  Conall sat up. He rested his wrists on his knees, breathing heavily. “Perhaps.”

  “Damballah prizes balance. If Rae defeats Marinette, he won’t return until new evil rises.” I brushed rubble from my shoulder. “I’ll await his arrival with bated breath to see which path he picks.”

  “Until new evil rises.” Conall smiled grimly. “Until.”

  “Without evil good ceases to exist.”

  “Is that how you justify the wickedness you inflict on others?”

  I cut my eye at him. “Think what you wish.”

  “Give me time, Cael.” He lifted his head. “I cannot change the way I feel within a matter of days. My guilt is vast. Give me time.”

  My heart pounded.

  He sees me.

  I plastered a disinterested pall over my features. “How hard that must have been to admit.”

  Conall chuckled. “I begin to understand you.”

  I held out a hand, face slack in mock outrage. “No, never that.”

  He clasped it, and I yanked him up.

  The ground shook in a tumult and light arced out over our heads. Screeches of misery sliced through the pandemonium. The angst-ridden noises originated from the direction of the river bisecting my war-torn city.

  Conall’s startled eyes met my bemused ones. “Bet you a hex Rae’s in trouble.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Rae

  Falling is nothing like dying. Death is peaceful. As you die there comes a moment when pain and fear extinguishes. After the numbing cold is reviving warmth. It carries you over life’s reach and into oblivion’s paradise. Falling is terrifying. The world rotates out of control as you tumble. Your gut ends up lodged in your throat making your shrieks sound funny. Or maybe that’s because you can’t drag in enough air to scream.

  The force of downward thrust trapped my wings to my back.

  I plummeted towards a stretch of restless blue I realised was a winding ribbon of river. As the gushing channel rushed to meet me, I felt giddy relief. Water is way better than concrete. Dread bit it cleanly in half. I can’t even paddle. Impact. Thousands of needles stabbed through layers of my skin. Millions of lead weighted water droplets rolled over my limbs.

  I sunk under into crushing darkness.

  My face broke the surface, and I gurgled. Spluttered as my hands thrashed, splashing the water into my mouth and nose. The river was covered in sludge. The oil slicking my skin was unpleasant, but the pungent stench curdled my stomach, and the sour taste made me heave.

  Plants dying on the riverbed tangled around my ankles. Drew me closer to bask in my power. Mindlessly towing me to death.

  The river swallowed me whole.

  For a terrifying stretch of time, I sank aimlessly. The sheer terror of being submerged in so much water forced me to kick and move my arms in a downward thrust.

  The plants latched on to all four limbs. They curled around my waist and wound around my hips. Swept into the undercurrent heading downstream, and trapped by the flora, I was dragged deeper into the vast nothing.

  Leashing my terror, I focused, and forced the creeping plants to release me.

  The vines loosened, and I wriggled free.

  I tried to regain the motion from before, but the urge to scream overcame the logic of keeping my mouth shut. Lips wrenching open, water flooded my lungs. It was cold and grainy. A flurry of bubbles swirling towards the surface dropkicked the reality of how deep I’d sunken into stark relief. My lungs filled and filled, and my pain threshold galloped past unbearable as they swelled to bursting.

  The moonlight marking the surface grew dim. My struggles slowed to odd twitches.

  An excruciating blast of energy seared me from the inside out. I bucked, and my body expelled the water through my mouth.

  Bewildered, I clamped it shut.

  I experienced a second of relief before my lungs burned for air. I fought the urge to breathe, and tried again to thwart the relentless pressure of the river water subduing my pitiable endeavour to swim.

  How many times will I drown then revive?

  I reached blindly waving a hand. Someone grabbed my fingers then let go.

  Don’t leave me!

  Two hands returned and grabbed me by the hair. I slapped my hands onto the ones towing me up to ease the pain.

  Don’t people know pulling hair bloody hurts?

  Pale hands dragged me bodily from the water.

  Flopping on the swamped bank, I rolled onto my stomach, vomiting river until retching was a reflex. My eyes stung, felt gritty, and tears cleared the grimy layer warping my vision. Stomach wrung out and throat raw, I finished puking.

  A cold hand brushed soaked hanks of hair from my face. I stared at Tomas’ glower in astonishment.

  Raven locks slicked back, water dripped from his nose and dimpled chin. “Your lips are blue.”

  Making throaty noises, I shivered and nodded at the observation. I’m freezing. “I need you to do something for me.” The request came out nasal and faint. I shivered hard and bit through my lip.

  Tomas’ spiked lashes separated when he blinked. A glossy eyebrow lifted. “Saving you from drowning isn’t enough?”

  “No,” I snapped then coughed up more water. “I drowned before you got to me. You lose points for that.”

  He chuckled and pressed his forehead to mine.

  Remembering I hadn’t fallen off the roof, I stiffened.

  I shoved Tomas back to lift my head and look around. “Marinette?”

  He ran his fingers along my cheekbone, reluctant to speak. Sad. “Landed safely on the opposite bank.”

  “She’s watching us.”

  Mouth thinning, he nodded.

  “She’s waiting for me.” I flexed my wings to check my pinion wasn’t healing a break, but the cold numbed me from feeling. “You’ll do something for me?”

  “Rae–” Tomas’ sighed objection died. He stared moodily realising the futility of protest. “What is it?”

  “I need you to–” Distracted, I cocked my head and concentrated on a tickle of unease at the back of my mind that became a painful bashing.

  Lochlann tugged hard on my power, drawing from me the way I used to draw from the Source.

  It startled me, at first, but his fuzzy desperation impressed the urgency behind the spiritual touch. It felt natural to let him take what he needed. I can’t reach you. Get up and fight, Lochlann. I hoped it was enough to see him through.

  Worrying my lip, I fixed my attention on Tomas who shook me in a panic. I stopped him with a scowl. “Go to the Wyld and steal the grimoire.”

  He looked bewildered. “There’s no way I’ll retrieve the spell book and return-”

  “You will guard it with your life until you find the means to destroy it.”

  I caught the moment realisation of what I asked darkened his expression. “I won’t leave you.”

  “Friends help each other. If you won’t help me I no longer consider you one.”

  “Good. I’m more than a friend.”

  “Your death wasn’t destined. We weren’t meant to meet. Ana told me. Gwendolyn’s vision muddled everything. You’ll live past today.” I prodded his chest. “Do you know how lucky you are that your fate isn’t tied to this fight?”

  “How can it not be when I feel this way?” He cradled my head. “You’re here. I’m staying.”

  “Please.” The word was quiet with need.

  “Don’t ask this of me.”

  “This is important, Tomas. The amulets are going to lose power, and the grimoire will be left without a guardian or key.”

  “How do you know the amulets will lose power?”
>
  Ignoring his question, I flexed my wings and winced as holes in the membranes stung. “Help me up.”

  He did, but searched my face the moment we stood. He gripped my arms painfully tight. “Answer me.”

  I wiped dirt from his cheek then patted his chest. “I told you, you’re lucky.”

  “You knew she was a threat to the fairy’s life. The one you made High Priestess.” Tomas exhaled shakily. “That’s the way you’d know the amulets fate.”

  I nodded. “Maeve’s next move will be significant. As will yours.”

  “You’re calm.”

  “This is my purpose.” The corner of my mouth curved. “I know your future too. She’s beautiful.” I laughed. “And you don’t see her coming.”

  “Will I see you again?”

  “No.”

  A harsh sound tore from his lips. His red-rimmed eyes washed with bloody tears, and he pressed a fierce kiss to my forehead. “I love you.”

  I touched his hand. “Goodbye.”

  Tomas wrenched into movement. He blurred into an apparition as he fled.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Lochlann

  “Get up.” I scraped the tip of my blade across Malice’s throat. I scored a red line, but refrained from bearing down and severing his spinal column. My nature demands honour in the killing of a fallen enemy, but it’s a fitting end for this loa.

  Shifty, Daphne licked her lips. “Lochlann?”

  Malice laced his hands together on his stomach. Blood from his nose dribbled into his mouth. He smacked his lips tasting it. “Why?”

  “The body you wear, the boy it belonged to saved lives at my Wyld. He saved Rae’s life. He tried to warn us of your evil. I pay tribute with your death.”

  And if I die it will be a sacrifice freely given so the gods may see reason and keep my people safe.

  “What are you doing?” Disbelief warped Daphne’s husky voice into a broken quavering. “Finish it.”

  My chest tightened at her fear. I understand why Rae forever sends Breandan from her. How am I to focus when my heart is vulnerable? “I need you to listen to me, vampire. This one time.” I kept my eyes on Malice. He followed our exchange with melancholic delight. “Leave me and find your Sire. He will protect you.”