Fury Convergence

by Chrysoula Tzavelas

  Fury Convergence

  Chrysoula Tzavelas

  Copyright © 2018 by Chrysoula Tzavelas

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-943197-15-6

  Print ISBN: 978-1-943197-16-3

  Created with Vellum

  For Ailsa, who tracked down Shatiel.

  This one may not be appropriate for the kids.

  Contents

  Previously in the Senyaza Series

  Part I

  1. Recruited

  2. Tucker

  3. Gale

  4. Haunt

  5. Hunt

  6. Fools

  7. Forking Roads

  Part II

  8. The Court of Stone

  9. The Queen of Stone

  10. Between Stone and Summer

  11. The Domain of Summer

  12. The Summer Court

  13. The Summer Queen

  14. Slumber Party

  15. Summer Nights

  16. The Saint's Way

  17. Sainthome

  18. In Darkness

  19. Devoured

  20. Letting Go

  Part III

  21. Complications

  22. Index

  23. Focus

  24. Labyrinth

  25. Ark

  26. Triangles

  Part IV

  27. The Return

  28. The Hard Work Of A Miracle

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Chrysoula Tzavelas

  Previously in the Senyaza Series

  The faeries, an offshoot of fallen angels, were released into the modern world. Branwyn, a human artist, learns a rare human-only magic from the faeries called Artificing, which lets her enchant and ‘wake up’ mundane objects with the assistance of celestial Machine shards.

  In Divinity Circuit, she discovers just how what she creates can be abused when her sister Rhianna recruits her to recover a lost artifact. Rhianna works for both an angel and the government, neither of which Branwyn likes. She’s also entangled once again with the murderous schemes of the monster Severin, her least favorite ally. She ends the story angry at both of them.

  Meanwhile, the Wild Hunt, bound to hunt down corrupted souls and their haunts, was reformed with a werewolf, a zombie, a vampire, a mage, an artificial person and an ordinary girl. They quickly discovered that simply destroying corrupted souls wasn’t very palatable and have since been searching for a way to redeem those yet redeemable. They also discovered that the ancient magical horses of the Wild Hunt are violently against ‘office romances,’ blaming mortal passions for the corruption of the previous Wild Hunt.

  Previous stories relevant to Fury Convergence (and briefly recapped above) include Wolf Interval, Divinity Circuit, and “The Wild Hunt Goes To School” (in Etiquette of Exiles). The stories “Stainless,” “Her Daughter Pinned To The Sky,” “Endless Silence of Forgotten Things” and “Wicked Stepself” may be considered bonus material.

  Part I

  1

  Recruited

  When a 10-minute reminder chirped at her, Branwyn put down the tablet she’d been using to plan one of her artificing projects and looked at her agenda. Not because she didn’t know her schedule, but because she did. She’d been thinking about this appointment all day. It was… unexpected. Unusual. She’d gone along with it mostly out of curiosity.

  And now… Ten more minutes until she found out what exactly was going on.

  Ten minutes… but she probably didn’t have to wait that long. She’d played along this long, but why wait when she didn't have to? She stood up, strode to the front door of her cluttered studio, and yanked it open.

  Her sister Rhianna, slumped against the opposite wall, jerked upright and stared at her with wide eyes. Her shoulder-length red hair was shaggy and her green eyes had makeup carefully applied to hide the natural shadows, but her pantsuit was beautifully crisp.

  “You might as well come in,” said Branwyn. “There’s no point in both of us staring at the door for the next ten minutes.”

  “All right,” said Rhianna meekly. “Thank you for agreeing to see me.” She picked up her messenger bag, walked past Branwyn into the studio, and stood beside the chair in front of the battered wooden desk.

  Branwyn narrowed her eyes. “I saw you at Christmas, and in April, too. You didn’t make an appointment then.” Ever since they’d disagreed over the disposition of one of Branwyn’s creations a year ago, the relationship between the sisters had been cooler than normal. They still spoke, they still enjoyed the same family activities, but they no longer trusted each other the same way. It hurt.

  “Well, that was personal time.” The roguish smile Rhianna flashed at Branwyn was so familiar that her nebulous worries eased a little.

  She reached out to tweak her younger sister’s nose. “And this isn’t? Sit down, then. I’ll sit down too, and we can discuss your business like civilized women.” She did just as she said, but she also leaned back to put her feet on her desk, because that was the kind of civilized she was.

  Rhianna sat primly. “This is business, yes. I wanted you to understand that from the beginning, which is why I went through your appointment calendar.”

  Branwyn studied her, trying to read between the lines, before giving up. “I wasn’t sure. Because you already know I won't work for your little government agency. I mean, we've discussed that and everything. So I figured maybe you had some other reason.” She paused as an idea occurred. “Did you want me to refuse to meet you?”

  Rhianna looked pained. “No. I want to hire you on behalf of OX. Branwyn, I’m not being tricky. There’s no secret goal here.”

  “Then why did you make an appointment?” said Branwyn triumphantly. “You’ve never made an appointment before. You’re my sister.”

  “That’s why,” said Rhianna quietly. “You wouldn’t have given me a chance to say anything if I just showed up at your door again. Not after last time.”

  “Aha! That’s your plan!” Branwyn said, but her heart wasn’t really in it. “Rhianna…” She wanted to say her sister could always talk to her, would always be able to ask for help. But there were some kinds of help Branwyn would simply never give her now. Probably never. Almost certainly never.

  It really did hurt. She said, “Well, I’m not making anything for OX, unless something has seriously changed behind the scenes.”

  Rhianna hesitated before leaning forward. “Bran, what I’ve been doing lately… No, nevermind. We don’t want you to build anything. My Advisor wants you to come with me to investigate something. We’re trying to track down some missing kids.”

  Caustically, Branwyn said, “Of course you are. Has anybody asked you to track them down or did you just make it your business?” Tracking people was a big part of what she hated about Rhianna's Office of the Unexpected.

  Rhianna’s mouth thinned, and she sat up straight. “Have you ever heard of Tucker, Idaho?”

  “No.”

  “No, of course not. It was a tiny, isolated town with slightly more than four hundred people. Nobody’s heard of it, except in passing. We were very careful about that.”

  The back of Branwyn’s neck prickled. Was. She swung her feet off the desk and leaned forward. “Rhianna….”

  Rhianna kept talking flatly as if Branwyn hadn’t said anything. “On May 12, a little over a year ago, Tucker was destroyed by a firestorm. We initially thought there had been no survivors. It too
k us a little longer than expected to discover we were wrong. Seventy children vanished in the inferno. We want them back.”

  Branwyn’s hands felt cold. “A firestorm.”

  Rhianna nodded. “A firestorm with a notable respect for town limits.”

  “And you covered it up?” Branwyn asked slowly.

  “Oh yes. The details, anyhow.” Rhianna set her shoulders like she was ready for a fight. “Do I need to explain why?”

  “Rhianna… a fire that stopped at the edge of town. Who did it?”

  “Ah, see, I knew you’d understand. Who, not what. And we don't know. We have theories, but our investigators keep running into problems in the remains of the town. It’s been hard to gather much evidence, which is one of the reasons we're keeping it quiet. We don't want anyone jumping to dangerous conclusions.”

  Branwyn put her head in her hands, thinking of times past when she’d worked hard to prevent similar atrocities. She’d pushed herself to her limit to pull people out of the path of a potential supernatural rampage, and that had… worked, mostly. Once. Then.

  And since then she’d chosen not to make weapons. Surely this couldn’t…

  After a moment, Rhianna said, “Would you like a tissue? A bottle of water? Some vodka? I brought all three.”

  Branwyn looked up. Her sister had carefully laid out a packet of tissues, a half-sized water bottle and a miniature of vodka in a row on the desk. A smile trembled on the corner of Branwyn’s mouth. Then it faded away again, swallowed by her inner turmoil. “No. Are you asking me for help because something I created was involved?”

  Rhianna’s eyes widened. She shook her head energetically. “No. We think whoever controlled the fire didn’t need an artifact’s help. But my Advisor believes you’ll be useful for tracking down the children.”

  “Seventy missing children. And you know they’re missing? Not just…” She trailed off, her tongue twisting around the grim words as she visualized her youngest sister, bright and vibrant and so very small.

  “Not just too small for there to be remains? That was an early theory, but it’s too consistent. Somebody took them.”

  Branwyn thought about all her sisters, right up to Rhianna, and her brothers when they’d been kids. She didn’t particularly enjoy children, but as the eldest of seven, it was hard-wired into her to care about them. The idea of somebody burning down a town and stealing seventy of them made her skin crawl.

  But something niggled at her. Rhianna simply didn’t work like this, by making appointments and offering jobs, and Branwyn trusted her precious Advisor not at all. There was a trick here, and she wasn’t seeing it.

  “Why me? I won’t make anything for OX, even as part of a different task.”

  Rhianna shrugged. “I don’t know. My Advisor doesn’t usually tell us his reasons, but they’re always good ones. It may be because of who we suspect, but I can’t tell you anymore until you’ve agreed to help.” Rhianna dropped her gaze and drew circles on the desk’s surface with a finger.

  Branwyn frowned and then shook her head. “That’s not enough. I don’t trust your Advisor.”

  Rhianna winced but kept her gaze on the table. “He thought you’d want to help find the children. And we’ll pay you.” She glanced up. “He insisted I mention that.”

  “That doesn’t make it better!” Branwyn snapped, then caught herself. “And you know that. I know you know that. I assume you told him. And you trust his reasons for his instructions.” She shook her head again and rose. “What are you supposed to do if you can’t get my help?”

  “I didn’t get a flow chart. I was instructed to hire you and provided those details—would you like to examine the contract? After that, we go on to Tucker and report back once we've turned up something.” Rhianna also stood up, packing her bag again. “I’m working on making better decisions but in this case I’m a little stumped. I suppose I’ll go to Tucker by myself.”

  Rhianna turned to the door and then leapt backward in a respectable imitation of a frightened cat, kicking her chair forward at the man who was unaccountably leaning against the studio door. "Holy crap—!" She scrambled backwards, around the desk and behind Branwyn.

  Branwyn scowled as the man caught the chair and neatly moved it out of the way. "What the hell are you doing here?"

  He had dark hair and shadowed eyes, wore a plain black t-shirt over old jeans, and his rugged face was far too familiar to Branwyn. Not a ‘man’ at all, but Severin, a fallen angel, a monster, and Branwyn’s own personal nemesis.

  He straightened up and stepped away from the door. “Oh, I was in the neighborhood and I happened to overhear your little sister. You know, I think this is a job you should take, cupcake.”

  Branwyn growled, “In the neighborhood. I worked hard so—” but the mark he’d placed on her collarbone itched, and her teeth clicked together as she was reminded once again that it was more than an ugly, unwanted tattoo.

  Severin looked at her, unsmiling. She preferred it when he smiled. It was a surefire tell that he was being evil somehow. “Take the job, Branwyn.”

  “What?” Branwyn stared wildly between Rhianna and Severin. It involved some twisting because Rhianna was still hiding behind her. “Why are you both telling me this? I’m not going to work for the feds and I’m certainly not working for you.”

  Severin spread his hands. “Missing kids, cupcake. And you can’t say somebody else will deal with it. Nobody in the world can do what you do. You know it, Umbriel knows it.” Umbriel was the angelic name of Rhianna's Advisor.

  “Potentially true,” Branwyn conceded. “But now that you’ve shown up, my moral responsibility might be to keep you away from wherever those kids might be.”

  Severin’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, but Branwyn, so attuned to his every move, noticed. “You couldn’t. But you might make recovering them run more smoothly.”

  Rhianna, peeking over Branwyn’s shoulder, said, “What do you know about those kids?”

  “Ah, little sister. As I said, I overheard what you told Branwyn.” He gave Rhianna his widest shark-like smile. “Very worthy.”

  Rhianna shuddered against Branwyn’s back and asked softly, “He has a soft spot for kids?”

  Staring hard at Severin, Branwyn replied, “Not that I’ve seen.” He'd once claimed he'd saved her youngest sister from being run over, but Branwyn was convinced even now he'd engineered the situation to insinuate himself into her mother's household for an evening.

  Severin's smile twisted. “Umbriel is more cunning than I’ve given him credit for. Come on, cupcake. Find the missing children and I’ll consider your debt to me paid.”

  “I don’t owe you anything,” Branwyn snarled. “And if you think I’d trade a kid to pay off any debt I might owe you, you don’t remember our walk through Faerie together.”

  "Why do you even care?" added Rhianna.

  "Let's just say that whoever stole them sounds like somebody I'd like to meet." Severin's gaze flicked back to Branwyn. "Are you honestly going to abandon these kids?"

  "Go to hell," Branwyn said.

  His mouth twisted further. “As delightful as always, cupcake. Fine. Your choice. I have bigger fish to fry. Little sister, come here. I can take you directly to this town the faeries burned and help you investigate. If you do a good job, I'll even mention it to those of my siblings who want your head.”

  Rhianna came out from behind Branwyn, but she said, “My name is Rhianna. I didn’t tell Branwyn faeries did it.”

  “Very well, Rhianna,” he said, with a mocking lilt. “Yes, I've heard of the place. It’s a memorable event when a faerie wipes out a town. People gossip. Well, when I say ‘people’… But this is wasting time. Save your boss the price of a plane ticket and come along.” He held out a hand to Rhianna.

  She glanced at Branwyn, squared her shoulders, and took Severin’s hand.

  Branwyn said urgently, "What are you doing, Rhianna? His friends want to kill you. You can't trust him."

&nb
sp; Patiently, Rhianna said, "I need magical help for this investigation, Branwyn. And I'm harder to kill than I look."

  Branwyn wanted to shout at Rhianna not to be stupid. Instead she clenched her fists in helpless frustration. Her mind raced. There had to be something else she could do…

  Severin glanced at her with an appreciative little smile. “If you show up in Tucker sometime tomorrow via plane or bus, I’m going to be very annoyed.” He held out his other hand to her.

  Branwyn, who had been formulating that very plan, said a bad word as she realized just how far she was considering going to prove nobody was the boss of her. Instead, she grabbed Severin’s hand.

  Severin’s fingers closed around Branwyn’s hand and wrist and he yanked her toward him, pulling her into the crook of his arm. Blackness dropped over them, close and tangible, and then they were floating in a vast dark space, orbited by windows of light.

  Branwyn had been here twice before, but both previous times, she’d been too shocked and traumatized by the preceding events to notice much. This time, she managed to observe that the windows of light each opened onto a different place, and one of them was her studio. From the corner of her eye, she caught a flash of color, and turned to look at her sister, clinging to Severin’s other hand. Rhianna glowed like a Pre-Raphaelite painting, complete with brushwork.