Earth's Hope

by Ann Gimpel

  “Have ye ever passed through Persian mirrors?” Gwydion asked Arawn.

  “Nay, but I’ve read about them.”

  “Have you?” he asked Andraste.

  “Aye.”

  Gwydion snorted. “Excellent. I’ll take all the help I can get. Build this spell with me and we’ll be on our way.”

  A rustle from a distant corner of the room had him spinning in place, hands raised to summon a death blow. Bella stalked from behind a mirror. “Son of a bitch,” Gwydion swore. “Why aren’t you with Fionn?”

  “The mirrors felt bad.”

  “Why dinna ye show yourself afore?” Arawn demanded.

  The raven’s head drooped. “I didn’t wish to shame myself before the other animals.”

  Gwydion chewed on his lower lip. “Ye showed yourself to us now for a reason. And it must be damned important. What is it?”

  Bella rustled her feathers. “You picked the right mirror. Or the one Fionn took, anyway. Rune went with him. Don’t let anything happen to him.”

  “I hate to take the time,” Andraste said, “but tell us what happened here. Just hit the high points.”

  “Won’t take long.” The raven sounded like her old, sulky self. “One of the dark gods nabbed Aislinn right off Dewi’s back. Dewi went after her. Nidhogg freaked out, and he, Fionn, Rune, and Bran went after the women.”

  “What happened to the humans?” Timothy asked.

  “They went to Inishowen to keep watch over Fionn’s manor and fight Old Ones.”

  “Aught else?” Arawn walked to where Bella was.

  “Adva’s here, and I saw D’Chel too, but not Perrikus.”

  “’Tis a safe bet all three are here, since the other borderworld held booby-traps but no master of ceremonies.” Gwydion clacked his mouth shut.

  “Would ye rather wait for Fionn here or outside?” Arawn asked the bird. “Kra and Berra are keeping watch.”

  “Outside. There are no guarantees Fionn will return by the same route.” Bella settled her wings across her back. “I can teleport myself. Go. Make sure nothing happens to Rune.”

  “Doona ye wish me to watch out for Fionn too?” Gwydion furled his brows.

  “He can take care of himself.”

  The master enchanter grasped his staff and turned away. The bird was a sour number, but Fionn was bonded to her and there was no undoing it. Over centuries, they’d established a brittle détente, but Gwydion was mightily grateful he didn’t have to deal with Bella. He’d have throttled her long since.

  As soon as the bird was gone, Andraste rolled her eyes. “That,” she intoned, “is why I never bothered with a bond animal. Too much trouble.”

  “Never mind about that,” Gwydion said. “Let’s get moving or we may miss our opportunity to help anyone.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Aislinn got as comfortable as she could inside the dragon and tried to ignore Dewi’s rich mind. Before, when she’d shared Dewi’s form it had been tempting to help herself to what amounted to a comprehensive library and history of the world, but there’d never been time.

  And there isn’t now, either.

  “We need a better plan,” she told the dragon.

  Dewi cocked her head to one side, listening. “Might be a tad late for that,” she grunted and swung her large body toward one of the unadorned walls moments before the room dissolved into blackness around them.

  Aislinn wanted to call power, wrench herself out of whatever they were being sucked into, but Dewi commandeered all their joint magic to ward them.

  “What’s happening?” She felt like screaming, but her mind voice sounded the same as it always did, not entirely barren of inflection, but almost.

  “What do you think, child? Adva is moving us somewhere. Let’s hope it’s a larger space where I can maneuver a bit.”

  “He can do that? Without even being present?”

  “It’s their world. They can do whatever they like here and you’d be well-served not to forget it. Nidhogg couldn’t get away from them, even with all his magic.”

  Desolation spread through her. If it was that hopeless, why not just give up? The black void shifted to gray and then to pallid, yellow lighting from smoking wall sconces, and a huge cavern formed around them.

  “Are we still on the borderworld?” she asked Dewi, worried about Fionn and Rune.

  After a long pause, the dragon said. “Yes. Probably beneath the fortress. All these places had dungeons, and— Shit! Things are going to get ugly fast. Give me access to your power. Now. And don’t distract me with questions.”

  Aislinn tensed and stared out through the dragon’s eyes. The cave’s ceiling disappeared in darkness. The floor was dirt. Other than the smoldering torches, the space was devoid of furniture or ornamentation. “Can we teleport from here?” she asked

  “I said no questions. Be quiet. Something’s coming. Can you feel it?” A quick intake of breath, and then, “If Adva dumped us here—and it pretty much has to be him—there’s no teleporting out of here until his scheme plays itself out.”

  Aislinn’s sense of desolation deepened. It was all too much. There was no way they’d ever win. Why keep fighting? Just lie down and be done with it. Easier that way.

  “Shield your mind,” Dewi hissed. “D’Chel is planting suggestions.”

  Horror filled her, pushing despair aside.

  I need to get angry. I should be pissed off as hell that slimebag invaded my thoughts.

  But when she tried to shove him out, he just laughed at her. It gave her the incentive she needed. Riding fury’s coattails, she chivied him out and slammed her mental gates behind him. How the fuck had he gotten inside her mind in the first place? Must have happened before he left the bedchamber. Maybe he used the cut Perrikus had opened in her arm to send something into her body.

  The thought creeped her out and she shivered, even inside Dewi’s warmth. The dragon tensed, and Aislinn did too. Whatever was coming would be easier to deal with now that her mind was her own again, and it was a hell of a relief to be shut of her despairing thoughts.

  I cannot relax my guard. Nothing actually got better. We’re still trapped.

  Maybe so, but if I go out, it will be in a blaze of glory, goddamnit.

  Fiery portals burst into view, surrounding them. Demons poured from the gateways, looking just like the ones that had escaped from Hell next to Fionn’s house in Inishowen. Aislinn counted a dozen, but that was just in front of her. She felt their fell energy from behind as well.

  “Can we kill them?” she shouted.

  “Yes. They’re not like the dark gods. Any doubts I had about them joining forces with Abaddon just vanished. How else would they have imported Hell hordes here?”

  Dewi sent magic spinning in a half circle. It incinerated everything it touched, but more demons waltzed through the portals. Six-and-a-half feet tall with cloven hooves, taloned hands, and fangs, they had eyes like old smoke and barbed tails they swung like whips. One struck the dragon’s side, and she bellowed in pain.

  A rush of energy blasted them from behind, and demons hurtled onto Dewi’s back and dug their sharp talons into her scales. She screeched her outrage and charged toward a wall intent on scraping them off. Some fell, but not all, and she stomped on the ones scrambling to their feet in the dirt.

  Demons closed from all sides. Dewi pounded them with fire and magic, but more kept coming, and they sent fire of their own right back. It didn’t bother the dragon, but the temperature inside her began to climb. If it got much hotter, Aislinn would have to leave or she’d incinerate. As it was, sweat poured down her and she was panting.

  “Dewi, do something. It’s hot in here.”

  “Nothing I can do. Gut it out. It’ll get hotter before we’re done.”

  Demon bodies piled around them, but fresh atrocities just used them to try to leap onto the dragon. She’d learned from the first bunch, though, and managed to keep her back clear.

  It was so hot inside the d
ragon, Aislinn felt consciousness slipping. She slapped a lid on her power, redirected it, and wrenched herself out of the dragon. Better to die on her feet than roasted to death, helpless.

  “Told you it would work.” The sleazy tones of D’Chel’s honeyed voice grated against her ears. She flipped around to face him, magic at the ready, only to feel arms close around her from behind.

  Perrikus.

  “Bastards!” she squealed. “You planned this.”

  “You bet we did, sweetheart.” Perrikus nipped her ear. “Be nice, and I won’t hurt you.”

  “Fuck you.” She writhed in his grasp, kicking, scratching, biting, but his grip only tightened.

  Dewi pushed toward her, but demons blocked her. “Fool,” she screamed. “I told you to stay put. I can’t help you now.”

  “Goddamned dragons!” Perrikus shouted. “Nothing but trouble.”

  “The demons will take care of her—eventually,” D’Chel said.

  Because he was close enough, Aislinn aimed a kick and caught him square in the groin.

  “Ooph.” He cupped his genitals. “You little bitch! That does it. We’re moving to Plan B.”

  “What’s that?” she inquired sweetly through clenched teeth.

  “We kill you, cut out your ovaries, and use your eggs that way.” D’Chel’s expression was so chilling he was hard to look at.

  “We’ve wasted enough time.” Perrikus sliced downward with one of the hands he had wrapped around her, and heat gushed down her belly, soaking her clothes.

  Blood. Hers. A lot of it.

  Pain filled her, hot, white, blinding as he wrenched something from deep inside her. The taste of bitter ashes flooded her mouth and she vomited bile.

  Fear battled fury. She was going to die in this underground hellhole on an alien world. And there wasn’t a damned thing she could do about it. She directed Healing magic inward, but the extent of the damage was enormous. Tears clouded her eyes. Fionn. Rune. Maybe once she was gone, the dark gods would let them go.

  “Please.” She clung to consciousness so she could ask.

  “Look at that,” D’Chel chortled. “Dying brings out the best in her.”

  “We should have jumped on that bandwagon a long time ago,” Perrikus cut in. “Saved ourselves a lot of trouble.”

  “Please.” More blood sheeted down her stomach. “Let Fionn and Rune go back to Earth. You have what you want from me. It’s a fair trade. A good one.” Her vision was shading to black.

  “We’ll think about it,” D’Chel said. His mocking laughter, and the dragon’s outraged scream, were almost the last things she heard as consciousness slipped away. Just before she let go, she thought she heard Rune howling, but it must have been a trick of her dying brain, neurons firing willy-nilly as she faded into the nothingness of death.

  * * * *

  “Close,” Rune howled mournfully. “Aislinn’s hurt. Hurry.”

  Fear closed a fist around Fionn’s heart. “How bad?”

  “She’s dying.” The wolf howled again just as they burst into an enormous cavern. Fionn had no idea where they were. It might be beneath the fortress, or on another world. Or in Hell from the piles of demons stacked around Dewi.

  Nidhogg ripped his way out of Fionn, trumpeting his rage, and cut a path through the demons. Rune sprinted away from Fionn and launched himself at Perrikus, sinking his fangs into the dark god’s throat.

  “This way.” Fionn told Bran and hurtled toward Perrikus, D’Chel, and Aislinn. She’d been sagging in Perrikus’s arms until the wolf attacked him, but now she lay on the ground. Blind fury drove Fionn and he wrenched a metal pikestaff from a dead demon’s hand and drove it through D’Chel, pinning him to the wall.

  Rune must have taken Perrikus by surprise. The dark god pushed power at the wolf, but Rune held firm. He’d ripped a six inch length of both jugular and carotids open along one side of Perrikus’s neck. Blood geysered everywhere, and the dark god was weakening.

  “Take care of them,” Fionn snarled at Bran and knelt to gather Aislinn into his arms. Was she still alive? Praying to every god and goddess in the pantheon, he sent magic auguring into her, relieved beyond measure when he found a weak heartbeat. He retreated to a corner and rocked her against him, deploying Healing magic to try to keep life in her body.

  “Leannán,” he whispered. “I love you. Doona leave me. Fight this.”

  He poured magic into her, but she didn’t rally. Blood. She needed blood. She’d lost too much. He ripped the dirk from her waist sheath, intent on cutting into a vessel to feed his own blood into her, but Dewi lumbered to his side.

  “Bran has the dark gods under control. I breathed dragon fire into them. Nidhogg is taking care of the demons. Give me the MacLochlainn.” She bent low and held out her forelegs.

  “Nay!” Fionn gazed at the dragon, and his soul twisted with anguish. “She will die in my arms, not yours.”

  A blood-coated Rune raced to Fionn’s side. “She yet lives. Can the two of you fix her?”

  “I’m trying,” Dewi said grimly. “Fionn, give her to me. Hurry. We’re running out of time. If you let me have her, she won’t die.”

  “Please.” Rune nipped him. “If there’s a chance. Any chance at all…” A desolate howl burst from him.

  Fionn handed Aislinn’s boneless body to the dragon. It might have been his imagination, but she was already cooler than she’d been when he picked her up.

  “Thank you.” Dewi’s eyes flooded and a pile of gemstones clattered to the dirt at her feet. She crooned in the dragons’ tongue and turned one of her talons to her own breast where she cut through scales and flesh. Once her blood, a deep red-black river, began to flow, she angled Aislinn’s wound beneath it and let her blood seep into the gaping hole that had been Aislinn’s stomach.

  “Do you understand what she’d doing?” Rune asked softly.

  “Not entirely. I was on the verge of doing much the same. Giving Aislinn my blood.”

  “What she needed was mine,” Dewi said and handed Aislinn back to Fionn. “It is done. She will live.” The vertical tear in Dewi’s chest closed as if it had never been there.

  “Dewi!” Nidhogg bellowed. “I could use a spot of assistance.”

  “Take care of her.” Dewi’s voice was as gentle as Fionn had ever heard it. “Coming,” she called over her shoulder and waded back into the battle.

  Bran made his way to Fionn’s side. “I heard most of that. Dewi may have fixed one problem, but we’re a long way from out of the woods. The only one having a good time is Nidhogg. I swear, that dragon thrives on battles. Those damnable demons are pouring in here as if we’re having a fire sale on pitchforks, and he’s killing them and laughing his head off. I’d hoped when we took Perrikus and D’Chel out of the action, those portals into Hell would close.”

  “Why would they?” Fionn asked. “Adva’s the one controlling them.”

  “Och aye. I hadna exactly forgotten about him, but he wasn’t at the top of my mental list, either. Where the hell do ye suppose he is?”

  “I’ll watch over Aislinn,” Rune said, “if you need to fight.”

  Fionn wanted to teleport them all the hell out of there, but he couldn’t leave the dragons to face Hell’s denizens alone, not after Dewi had saved Aislinn’s life. He experimented with the teleport spell, but it bounced back at him. Apparently, Adva was still controlling the game with his warped house of mirrors.

  Aislinn moved weakly in his arms. “Fionn? Or did I die and I’m dreaming you?” Her voice was the barest whisper.

  “Nay, love. I’m real enough. Ye dinna die, but it was much too close for my taste.”

  “Put her down,” Rune demanded. “I want to clean her wounds.”

  “Rune?” Aislinn twisted her head to look at her wolf. “Aw, Rune.”

  Her eyes flooded with tears, and Fionn’s heart shattered at how close he’d come to losing her.

  Smoke and fire thickened in the cave. Fionn caught glimpses of other fell creatur
es: incubi, succubi, gnomes, trolls. Kneeling, he placed Aislinn in an alcove. “I have to fight, love. I’ll return as soon as I can. Rune will keep watch.”

  “Nothing will harm her,” the wolf said with a simple dignity that touched Fionn beyond words.

  “Where…” The single word trailed off, and Aislinn tried again. “Where did all these things come from?”

  “Hell,” Bran said shortly. “’Tisn’t enough to kill them. We must subvert Adva’s spell and shut the gateway.”

  A flash of light nearly blinded Fionn, and he shielded his eyes with one hand. “Shit! Fuck! We do not need more demonic bastards in here.”

  “’Tisn’t,” Bran said, and a grin bloomed on his face. “By the goddess, ’tis the baby dragon horde come to bail us out.”

  “I knew you were out there somewhere,” Nidhogg roared at his brood. “You wanted war. This is war. Dive right in. No one’s stopping you.”

  “But they’re my babies,” Dewi wailed and shot a swath of fire through a dozen undead who incinerated in a stinking flare of ghoulish bits.

  “They were old enough to join their power to escape from Royce and Vaughna,” Nidhogg said. “This is their birthright, Dewi. Dragons were born to rid all worlds of evil.”

  With the black dragon leading the troupe, the seven younglings fanned out. Fire and magic spewed from them in a mix so potent, it cut through at least fifty demons before they gathered themselves enough to fight back.

  “I’m impressed,” Bran cried. “Go younglings!” He fist pumped the air, pulled magic, and three trolls blew up, scattering rock everywhere.

  “See?” Nidhogg shouted at Dewi. “Our brood will be just fine.”

  “Shut up and fight,” Dewi growled, and cast her gaze Fionn’s way. “Speaking of which, Celt—”

  Fionn grabbed Bran’s arm and they waded into the fray. Somehow, they had to track Adva down, but maybe if they dished out maximum destruction, the god of portals would get discouraged and leave. Behind him, twin flares went up, lighting the cave bright as day, and he knew it was Perrikus and D’Chel, burning form the inside out, courtesy of the seeds of dragon’s fire Dewi had breathed into them.