Scarred (the Spellbound Series Book 3)

by Rene Lanausse

  When I sit down on my bed to slip on a pair of sneakers, I gasp as I realize I’ve been looking in the wrong place for a solution. I do have other people I can go to… they’re just very far away. People who have studied angels well enough to know how to subdue them. I need the help of the elves. The only problem is, time works in strange ways between the realms. Even if I open a portal to Elfame right this second, stay for ten minutes, and open a second portal to return home, I might end up returning well after Michael has killed millions.

  In order to get around that, I’m going to need to take a leaf out of Lily’s book. I’m going to have to either find or create a permanent link between our worlds. I’m sure I’ve heard of something like this before, so I pick up my phone, open a new browser tab, and look up faerie lore. Sure enough, I find exactly what I’d been looking for; a legend that says if anyone steps into a faerie ring, they’ll be transported to their realm. That sounds like exactly what I need.

  Next, I search for pictures of faerie rings. I scroll though a few of the results, but they all appear to be the same. I finish getting dressed, pocket my phone, and head up to the roof. My wings are still sore from hours of flying last night, but I only need them to carry me over Central Park. I take flight, and keep an eye out for a ring of mushrooms in the grass. I find one after a few minutes of circling the lake, and land a few feet away from the ring. For a moment, I wonder if what I’m about to do is even a good idea. But I have no choice. I close my eyes, and step through the faerie ring.

  It doesn’t feel like anything happened, so I’m pleasantly surprised to see that I’ve moved when I open my eyes. I look down at the ground before me, and find that I’m standing in a small circle of light that reaches up to my waist. Miraculously, the faerie ring transported me to the same exact forest-turned-city where I was imprisoned during my last visit. But unlike before, the cobblestone streets are lined with tall flowers whose petals glow in the fading twilight. A parade of elves with painted skin and bizarre instruments crosses the street before my eyes, playing a haunting melody that makes me want to follow them deeper into the city. It’s just as well; the palace at the city’s center is exactly where I need to be.

  Apparently, I’m not the only one drawn in by the parade’s allure. Other elves come out of their homes to fall into step behind the band. I carefully step out of the ring of light that’ll bring me back home, and follow them closely, trying with all my might not to stick out. Either they’re unaware that there’s suddenly a foreigner in their midst, or they’re too wrapped up in the moment to care.

  The parade marches around a fountain right in the middle of a plaza, and comes to a stop once they have the fountain completely surrounded. A slender elf from among the players hands his instrument to a friend, and spits a massive plume of flame from between his lips. A seemingly endless stream of fire shoots out, but instead of traveling in a straight line, it curves upward, then in upon itself. It continues twisting and turning through the air, almost like the flames have a mind of their own. The elf purses his lips, and while no fire can be found coming from his mouth, his creation retains its serpentine shape, crackling as it hovers above the plaza.

  Someone in the crowd grabs me by the wrist from behind, and pulls me away from the spectacle. Normally, I’d protest loudly, or fight them off, but I don’t want to make a scene while I’m surrounded on all sides by potentially dangerous elves. I turn around to look at them as soon as the plaza is out of sight, but all I can make out of my captor is a hooded figure. I’m pulled into a quiet thicket of ancient trees, and the hand around my wrist relaxes enough for me to pull free. I back away from the hooded elf, and ask, “Who are you? And what do you want?”

  The elf pulls back the hood, and reveals a familiar thicket of wild, yet elegant orange hair. Queen Aileana smiles at me, and remarks, “I know you find it hard, but you need to show at least a glimmer of respect for authority.”

  “Your Grace!” I bow to her, and ask, “What are you doing here? I mean, uh-“

  “No need to concern yourself with excessive formality, Heather.” The elf queen regards me with amusement, and says, “Tonight is the first night of the Festival of the Dancing Dragon. It begins on the tenth moonless night of every year. And normally, my royal duties would prohibit me from attending. However, this year, I… How would someone from Earthrealm phrase this? Ah yes, I ‘gave my guardians the slip’. I suppose when it comes to issues with authority, you and I are cut from the same cloth.”

  “I apologize for intruding upon your night of freedom, Your Grace.”

  “Oh, nonsense. It’s quite alright. I know exactly why you are here.”

  “You do?”

  “Of course. Two realms are preparing to converge upon yours, and plan to spill blood on human soil. It was written in the stars that this day would come.”

  I take a deep breath before launching into an explanation. “That’s not the worst of it. My father, the archangel, has decided to tip the scales in his favor by stealing fifteen million souls, and using their raw power as fuel for his armies.”

  “Hmm.” Queen Aileana places a hand on her chin, and gazes up at the sky. “The act of stealing even one soul is nefarious, and difficult. But to steal millions…”

  “Please, Your Grace. I need a way to put an end to Michael’s schemes.”

  “Patience, child. I have the answers you seek. You need only listen.” The queen picks up a fallen branch, and draws a circle in the dirt between us. “Angels perform their most difficult, arcane magic with sigils arranged within a circle.” She draws random looking symbols along the inside border of the circle, and adds, “These sigils are written in an ancient tongue, older than your mother’s entire species, and hold great power. When the correct ones are arranged in the correct order, their spell will have the desired effect.”

  I lean over Queen Aileana’s drawing, and frown down at her “sigils”. I’m not sure if angels have horrible handwriting, or if the queen is artistically challenged. “Alright… how do I stop it?”

  “This particular spell can be undone in one of three ways. Several of these sigils will spell the name of a particular angel, whose power will be the source the spell draws upon. If he were to be killed, the sigils would become meaningless, and fail to activate.”

  I nod, but say nothing. I’m guessing that Michael will become the source of this spell’s power. And we may not see eye to eye, but I don’t think I’ll be able to assassinate my own father.

  “Another method could be the removal of those who would be effected by the spell. If there are no souls to steal within the limits of the circle, all the angels’ efforts will have been in vain.”

  I don’t think that one will work either; there’s no way I’ll be able to evacuate fifteen million people on my own, not without drawing Michael’s attention. “What’s the third way?”

  Queen Aileana draws a new symbol in the center of the circle, and draws a tiny circle around it. “Implant a new sigil that will override the meaning of the others, rendering the entire circle useless.”

  Now this sounds like exactly the solution I needed. The queen steps aside so I can get a better look at the central sigil. I get the feeling it would be important to actually remember this one; unlike the others, it’s been rendered in great detail. I pull my phone out of my pocket, and snap a picture of it before standing up straight. “How do I draw this sigil? Is there some special method, or material I’m supposed to use?”

  “You carry heavenly blood within you, Nephilim. When the time comes, you will know what to do.”

  I touch my first two fingers to my lips, and bow to my savior. “Thank you, Your Grace. How can I ever repay you?”

  “Leaving so soon? Do you not have more to ask of me?”

  Now that she mentions it, I do have one more question concerning angels that I’ve wondered the answer to for a long time. But I’m sure that it isn’t an appropriate one to ask. “No, Your Grace. I wouldn’t dare-“

  “
It’s alright, Heather. Merely ask the question, and I will provide you with an answer. While neither condoning nor condemning how you peruse the information.”

  “Alright… How would one go about killing an angel?”

  Queen Aileana flashes me a smile, and her eyes glint dangerously in the waning sunlight. I get the feeling she’s been waiting to share this information for a long time. “Angels are notoriously difficult to kill… unless you have the right tools. Anything crafted by the hands of an angel may be used as a weapon against them, and may be used to strike a fatal blow.”

  I think back on when Michael first gave me his sword. He of all people should know exactly how dangerous it would be if I ever cut him with it. So why offer it to me as a gift? Did he never expect me to learn the truth? Or was that his first attempt at trying to trust me? Even as I try to ponder his motivations, I mutter, “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  “You are most welcome, Heather.” Queen Aileana draws up her hood, and turns to leave the alcove. “But be warned… Mixing in the affairs of Heaven and Hell will only bring you pain. I would like you to promise me that you will use caution when the time comes to play your part.”

  This time, it’s my turn to fix the queen with a deadly smile. “If we are truly cut from the same cloth, then we both know I won’t be able to keep that promise.”

  24

  A couple of days after my trip to Elfame, Lily calls me to arrange a meeting with the other Nephilim. Of the ten others living in the States, she’s only been able to convince six of them to join our ragtag group of rebels. That sounds like more than enough; I’ve seen how much damage just one Nephilim can do. And after adding Nick and Alyssa to our number, we have ten unbelievably powerful people on our side. I tell Lily to bring the rest of the Fallen to Van Cortlandt Park in the Bronx. It’s time we talked about our role in the battle ahead.

  I text both Nick and Alyssa about the meeting, and realize immediately after that I should bring Jenna as well. If she wants to be our strategist, then she should probably come along. I send her a separate text telling her that I’ll pick her up in a few minutes, then start getting dressed. As soon as I’m ready, I walk to Jenna’s apartment, and tentatively knock on her door.

  Jenna steps out to meet me, fully dressed, with a mug of coffee in her hands. “What’s going on?,” she asks me once her door is closed.

  “You offered your services as a strategist, right?”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “Well, we’re strategizing today, so we’ll need you. Grab my arm.”

  Jenna wraps a hand around my forearm, and clutches her coffee tightly as we vanish and reappear on a browning patch of grass in Van Cortlandt Park. With no one around to maintain the parks, many of them have fallen into disrepair. Vines have begun to claim some of the stone structures, much of the grass reaches up past my ankles, and the zoos are overrun with animals with the means to escape. The ones who didn’t have the means lie rotting in their cages, making some of my favorite parts of New York City unbearable places to see.

  Jenna and I find a couple of benches surrounded the weather-battered remains of a barbecue that never got cleaned up, and clear away the refuse before taking a seat. We don’t have long to wait before Nick and Alyssa arrive. While waving them over, I notice that both of Nick’s eyes have begun glowing red. I’d ask if he’s alright, but I know he’ll lie and say that he’s fine. I choose to withhold my comments, and try not to stare as he takes a seat next to me.

  A few minutes later, Lily arrives with a group of six new faces. Many of them are roughly my age, although one woman seems like she may be nearing her thirties. Jenna takes one look at the newcomers, and says, “Why didn’t anyone tell me we were waiting on her?”

  “Didn’t think it was necessary,” I answer. “Try to be civil with Lily, alright? We need her if we’re gonna have any hope of getting through next week alive, and she’s a lot more trustworthy than any angel right now.”

  Lily pays us no heed, and introduces us to the rest of the Fallen. “Ladies and gentlemen, meet the faces of the revolution. This is Lucas, Morgan, Joel, Fiona, Terry, and Cora.”

  I nod as I match names to the faces in front of me. “It’s nice to finally meet you all,” I tell them as I stand up. “I’m Heather.”

  “I recognize you,” one of them says. Terry, I think. “I saw you on TV not too long ago!”

  I groan, and say, “Let’s get down to business-“

  “Yeah! I saw that too,” Fiona chimes in. “I started telling people what I am after you put the word out there. Turns out, I have a couple of werewolf friends and I never even knew it.”

  “Yeah, my step brother is apparently a vampire,” Cora adds.

  “Really? Gianni is a vampire?,” Lily asks.

  “Yeah! It happened a year or two ago.”

  “Wow.” Lily notices my confused expression, and explains, “I’ve been living in Sioux Falls with Cora since July. She’s my… what, second cousin?”

  “Doesn’t matter.” I gesture for all the Nephilim to come over and sit at the picnic tables. “We can get to know each other later, right now we need a battle plan.”

  Now that I’ve commanded everyone’s attention, I give Jenna the floor. She stands, and looks around at all of us, studying our faces carefully. Probably evaluating our worth on the battlefield. “Alright,” she says. “There are ten of you, a handful of angels, and millions of demons we have to contend with, correct?” We all nod, and Jenna continues, “Then I think what needs to happen is pretty obvious; we deal with the demons first.”

  One of the new recruits, possibly Joel, raises his hand and asks, “How are we gonna do that?”

  “Demons are susceptible to holy water. Weaken them with that, then you can either knock them out or kill them easily. The problem is, we’ll need a LOT of holy water for millions of demons…”

  “Holy water?,” Lily repeats dubiously. “Regular water ought to do the trick.”

  “No shit?”

  “No shit.”

  Jenna looks mildly impressed by the revelation, and says, “That makes things way easier, then. Any chance one of you can handle starting a city-wide downpour?”

  Morgan lifts her chin, and says, “I’ve got it covered.”

  “Excellent.” Jenna pulls out her phone, and types in what we’ve covered so far. “We can talk later about who’s gonna be where, and good ways to get rid of a demon. Now, for the angels. How are we gonna deal with them?”

  “We should go after the two big ones first,” Lily suggests. “The rest of them will be easy pickings once Michael and Lucifer are out of the way.”

  “We wanna kill all of them?,” Nick asks.

  “Yeah,” Lily tells him. “All of them. It all goes. That’s the only way to make sure this sort of thing never happens again.”

  “Alright. What’s the plan for that then?”

  “The demon army is probably gonna arrive through a portal. I’m gonna slip through it and kill Lucifer, while Heather-“

  “No.” I shake my head, and stare hard at my hands. “I can’t. I can’t kill my father.”

  “Fine,” Lily groans. “Then I’ll take care of Michael, with a little help from two of you guys. But that means you’ll have to take down Lucifer, Heather.”

  “But-“

  “You’re the strongest of us, and I can’t do everything. Please, Heather. Don’t puss out on this, we need you.”

  I shrug, and mutter, “Fine. I’ll do it.” I suppose if I remind myself of all the pain Lucifer’s caused me, I might be able to live with his blood on my hands.

  “I’m going too,” Nick announces. “And don’t you dare try to talk me out of it. I owe him a punch or two for turning me into this… whatever I am.”

  “Okay, glad that’s settled,” Jenna says as she types in the new information. “But that wasn’t exactly what I meant. What I meant was, I’ve never once seen any info on killing an angel. What if they’re indestructible?”

  “T
hey’re not,” I say with absolute confidence. Even if Queen Aileana hadn’t taught me what we’ll need to do the deed, I know for a fact that Michael’s killed his fair share of angels. “You just need the right tools. And I think I know where to get some.”

  The rest of the meeting goes by pretty quickly. Jenna pulls up a list of defensible positions in the city, and assigns each of the Fallen to an area from which they’ll contain the battlefield. Lucas and Cora will be on the East and West Sides respectively, patrolling the length of the island to keep the rivers clear and hem in any demons that stray too far from the action. The same will be done will be done by Alyssa and Fiona, though with the uptown and downtown sides of the island. Morgan will focus on stirring up the perfect storm, and keeping it going at least until Michael and Lucifer are finished. At that point, all of us will gather in Midtown and wipe out what’s left of Lucifer’s forces with everything we’ve got before turning on the remaining angels.

  Once everything’s planned out, and everyone understands where they need to be and what they need to do, I ask Lily to tear open a doorway to Genesis. I trust her skill in that department more than my own. Without questioning my request, Lily does what I ask, and I instruct everyone, including Jenna, to follow me through the tear. The transition from one world to the next is jarring; dying grass and overcast skies in New York City are immediately replaced by blinding sunlight and thriving seas of green. As soon as everyone is through, I lead the group towards the Temple of the Guardians.

  We’re greeted at the door by Artemis and Apollo, who bow to me respectfully as I approach. “We weren’t expecting you again so soon,” Artemis says. “But we welcome you and your associates to our realm.”