Fire and Fantasy: a Limited Edition Collection of Epic and Urban Fantasy

by CK Dawn

  “You really want to know?”

  “Yes. How else is this going to work? If you tell me what I need to know, I can help you get better.”

  “I’ll bet anything that even you won’t be up for the task.”

  He stared at her. “Start talking, Asa.”

  “Fine, full disclosure. For starters, and because you’re going to want to know the back story, Asa isn’t my name. Well, not the name that was given to me at birth. I gave myself the name a long time ago. It fits me. I like it.” She smiled weakly.

  “Your name isn’t Asa? So, you’ve been lying to me all this time?” He moved from the bed and sat in the chair next to it, suddenly needing distance from her. He knew that she was keeping things from him, but how much did that amount to?

  “No, I haven’t. I’ve been Asa, to you, myself, and every other person I’ve encountered for so many years now. My old self, the self I still sometimes miss, is not one that I can ever return to. Ares is the reason that me, as I am today, exists.”

  “How? How could a god who fell from the heavens centuries ago ever be the anything in your life now?”

  “Because, I knew him then. I may not look it, but I’m just as old as he is. Okay, maybe he has a few centuries on me, but his time, the time you know him from, was my time.” Her breaths were labored, fever rising and energy store depleting, but this was the time. It would have been nice to never have told him about who she really was, that however, was no longer an option. Not that it ever really was.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Who are you, really? What is your name?” If she wasn’t Asa, he needed to know everything. There could be no more secrets.

  “I am Calypso.” The features of his face did exactly what she expected. Slight twist of his lips, furrow of his brow, and a long pause, frozen in a state of disbelief. The dots were connecting and he was bringing the recognition back to the stories of his youth. The drawings that filled the pages of Lehela’s book. She was her, Calypso, and she was with him.

  “Calypso, as in the siren? As is the nymph who called men to their deaths?” Apparently, he’d forgotten the softer tales of her. The feeling of betrayal had that effect on people.

  “Yes, that is what is told of me.” She smiled. “At least the more popular versions.”

  “None of this makes sense! How are you here?” She was lying to him, she had to be. Stealing a piece of his childhood and using it against him, it was cruel and an entirely new level of evil.

  “Ares took a liking to me, and when it no longer fit his agenda, being with me, he tossed me away. When I finally started to move on, and heal from the heartache, he had a curse put on me. He thought it was fair to punish me for that. He didn’t want me, but he wanted no one else to have me either. So, because I apparently deserved to be tortured for not wishing to allow him to pop in and out of my life as he saw fit, I was changed, transformed into a monster.”

  “A monster, he cursed you?” Carter thought back through his readings. He’d never came across the story of Calypso after Zeus punished her. Only what Lehela had written and that wasn’t very much more. In a sense, it was as if the woman vanished.

  “Yes. I can see you trying to put the pieces together. Let me help you along. It would turn out that Lehela, the woman who keeps such flattering tales of my life, was the witch he used to enact said curse. She told me while we were in Oikos.”

  “What did she do to you?” Lehela had always been honest with him—open about her past—yet this secret she kept. As many times as he read Calypso’s story, as many questions as he had, she never confessed to what had become of her. ‘Someday maybe you will uncover the truth of Calypso.’ This was all she offered. Is this what she meant? He always assumed she meant he would have to do the research, study the topic. Did she know all along that they two would come together?

  “She turned me into the sphinx.”

  “A sphinx?”

  “The sphinx. The one told about in the myths. The monster who guarded Thebes. The one and only.” She flared her hands in gesture of a small, joking bow.

  “The sphinx died.” He was all too ready to disprove her. He knew his history. “I’ve read that tale so many times. Oedipus solved the riddle and went on to be King of Thebes. The sphinx devoured herself as she fell from the cliff.”

  “Oh, how that story has changed over the years. Carter, as you said, it’s a tale. A story passed down through generations, which changes and transforms with the imagination of whoever is the current orator. I’ve heard so many versions of my ending. One was so ridiculous, said I burst into flames when it was all said and done. Sorry to say, those myths, stories, legends, tales, they were all wrong.”

  “They were wrong? Okay, right. You’re a siren or nymph, depending on the storyteller, from centuries back who is out to kill Ares because he turned you into the sphinx as punishment for denying him in some way.” He laughed. “Am I missing anything? Yeah, it’s all very logical.”

  “Tell me something, Carter, is anything about your life … logical? Have you ever experienced an average or normal day? You run around hunting down returning gods and sending them into purgatory. How can you, of all people, doubt what I am saying?”

  “I need proof.” He sat back in his seat. “I need something that verifies all of this. Honestly, your words have very little weight right now.”

  “What proof do you have of these gods? How do you know the people you harm aren’t just humans? How do you know that they go to purgatory when you kill them? What is your proof of any of this?” She kept her voice firm.

  “These are facts that have been a part of my life for so long. I’ve studied, trained, I believe in them. You, however, I’ve only just come in contact with, and either you’ve been lying to me since the moment we met, or you are just starting to lie. Either way, I am going to need proof of what you’re saying to me.”

  “Those aren’t facts. Those are things you were told, granted at an early age, and chose to believe in. Those are things that you have faith in. Look, you want proof, I will give it to you. Keeping up this façade uses a lot of energy anyway, and as you said, I should be resting.” She pushed away the covers which partially covered her legs.

  “What façade? What are you talking about?” He shook his head, tired of the riddles that lead to only more questions. Maybe she was the sphinx after all.

  “The one that makes me look normal.” Asa relaxed her body, but kept her eyes on Carter, watching his expression closely as she dropped the veil that dulled her beauty. In her current state, Asa was just another moderately attractive woman. No one who would get shunned by men, but she wasn’t exactly turning many heads. It was how she wanted to be—average, able to blend into the background. Without the magic she used to hide herself, the siren that was still a huge part of her moved to the surface. From within came a light that glowed in a soft hue, making the cocoa tones of her skin stand brighter. Her hair, though it appeared short, revealed a length that she never felt able to cut. It laid down her body, touching the bed at her sides as she sat up. Her eyes, the hazel revealed flecks of green and gold that danced in the irises. As she relaxed against the bed, his face relaxed and he looked on at her in amazement. Knowing that the only way to get him back to reality and restore his ability to have a cohesive conversation was to hide her true self again, she called the veil to return. “Is that proof enough for you?”

  “You look just as she depicted you. Those pages, those images, all this time. I’ve stared at that face and wished that I could know you.” Unable to remain seated Carter, stood and stared down on Asa. “You are her.”

  “I am. When you showed me those drawings, I was afraid that you would be disappointed to know that the person who you read about is no longer who you imagine her to be.”

  “But you are! You’re her.”

  “I am damaged now. Flawed, and jaded, a product of a life derailed.” It was the truth, Asa accepted th
at her heart would never be the same, able to love and hope. She was forever changed by what Ares had done to her.

  “Lehela, she did that to you, cursed you. It makes sense now. How else could she have drawn you in such detail? Her magic connects her to whoever she uses it on. Those drawings, they were hauntings for her. I know now why she kept them locked away like she did.”

  “Yes, well, apparently, it’s a good idea to become highly familiar with those you intend to curse. The woman knows a lot about me. A lot more that I wish she would tell me.” Still there was the feeling that Lehela had held out. She knew what was to come for Asa, she knew more about her past as well. All the questions that she wanted answered and the old witch would give her nothing.

  “I am so sorry, Asa.”

  “What could you possibly have to be sorry about?” She sighed. Already tired, the conversation was starting to wear her down even more.

  “I am sorry that you had to go through it all, and I am sorry that now you have to face this again. I know an apology from me feels empty, I didn’t do this to you, I know, but I wish like hell that it hadn’t have happened. Even if it means that you and I would never have met.”

  “It’s all right. I’m a big girl, and centuries of life have made me a lot stronger than I once was.”

  “How did you get away? I mean, how did you break the curse?”

  “Magic. I don’t know if it was Lehela’s design, but I started to absorb the life force of those I killed. It’s not a pretty picture and I wish there was a way that it could be done without the gruesome side of it, but those are the cards I have been dealt. It was when a witch crossed my path, she got the riddle wrong and as per usual, I devoured her. It was different with her. I usually got a buzz after a killing, I felt energized, and a little high. That time, however, with her life came her magic. It wasn’t lasting, though. It faded, and I realized that I would need more. It was selfish of me, but I used those that I could, I targeted magical beings, bad ones mostly, so that I could escape the hold of the curse. I staged my death and Ares never looked for me. I knew, however, that the day might come that he would return and I was determined to be prepared. I’ve been stockpiling magic for ages. I didn’t expect to use so much of it to save you, but it had to be done.”

  “You shouldn’t have done that.” She had risked more than he had known.

  “Was I to just let you die? Why would you think I would ever do that?”

  “I don’t know, one thing comes to mind. Let’s just say, because you have a mighty powerful, mighty vindictive god who is coming after you. How are you going to protect yourself now?”

  “I will restore. I have time. Besides, I didn’t use it all up, mostly just feel winded. Using magic takes a toll on the body and I haven’t used that much at once in a long time. I suppose it’s a good thing. I know I will need to use a lot against Ares, I need to be prepared for the aftermath.” She smiled. “Assuming your offer to fetch me a meal is off the table now?”

  “Um …”

  She laughed. “No worries. Not like you would be able to capture anything strong enough to sustain me anyway.”

  “For now, please, rest. Let me take care of you. I can’t get you a vampire, or a demon to eat,” he laughed, “but I have the ability to make a mean soup and a nice cup of tea.”

  “Considering my inability to stand at the moment, there isn’t any other choice. Is there? Tea actually sounds good.”

  “If the lack of physical strength is what it takes to get you to stay in bed, I’ll take it.”

  “You’re right. I need to rest; my head is spinning. Can you please get me something to drink?”

  “Water okay? I will need to make a run to get ingredients for food and tea. Sorry, usually I go out for tea.”

  “Yes, that is fine.”

  By the time he returned to the bedroom, water in hand, Asa was sleeping again. Pensive, he watched her, sitting on the edge of the bed and listening to deep breaths. It isn’t at all what he imagined. She isn’t what he imagined, but he knew that regardless of what happened, he could never let her go.

  Before he left, he wrote a note and left it on the nightstand.

  “Running to the store, be back soon. Please don’t leave.”

  Ten

  Carter fully expected Asa to be gone when he returned from the store. She’d already proven that she was headstrong and unaccepting of taking orders. Arms hanging with plastic bags, supplies that probably overcompensated for what she really needed, he entered the apartment. Everything seemed fine, but there was a distinct smell coming from the bedroom. One of woman. How to explain the aroma that tickled the inside of his nostrils? It was earth, ocean, flowers, and a summer night’s breeze. She was still there, waiting for him. He dropped his haul on the counter and headed for the room to check on her. There she lay, the veil she dropped before was gone yet again, and he saw her the real her. He sighed.

  She shivered, stirred, and curled in on herself. The air had begun to chill outside; late August meant the summer heat was beginning to retreat from the Midwest. She must have managed to get up and crack a window in his absence. He crossed the room and lowered the window slowly as not to wake her. He locked it in place, closing off the sounds of the busy outside allowed him to hear her and nothing more. The soft whimpers that were undertones to her breathing. Each breath elicited another moan, a light quality that was barely there. He wondered what she dreamt of. Pleasure, or pain? He hoped it wasn’t the latter.

  The cover he’d provided her with before he left had been tossed to the floor. He retrieved it and hesitated to cover her up. His eyes traveled the length of her, noting every curve, every detail that matched in the most uncanny way, to the drawings he’d come to love. Warm skin of browns kissed with gold, dark natural hair that reached out in every direction around her and framed her sleeping face. He wished that he could touch it, feel the weight of it in his hand, bury his face in it and breathe her in. The pout of her lips as she moaned in her sleep. Even the depth of the curves at her waist and thighs, creating a figure that seemed fictional. How could she possibly be real?

  Regardless of the question in his mind, Calypso … Asa was real. At that moment, the woman who once existed only in memories of drawings, needed him. Not to ogle her but to protect her while she healed.

  His friends would be arriving soon, and though they were mostly understanding, they would have a hard time processing the ancient siren lying in his bed. At the very least, it was a good thing that the depictions of her with the tail were inaccurate. No, she didn’t have a tail, she had legs. Short legs that were toned yet looked like they would be soft to touch. Legs that ended in a pair of feet, not too small, not too large, and sported a pedicure with a light orange polish, mimicking the sunrise. Again, he had to redirect his thoughts. Asa was a private person and he could tell he had only begun to crack the surface with her. Being as vulnerable as she allowed herself to be was a sign that she trusted him. If he wanted to have any hope of keeping that trust, he would have to get her in good health before they arrived or at least healthy enough that she could sustain her veiled appearance.

  While he was out, he put in a phone call to a friend who could give him a few recipes to help. Some homeopathic remedies that would promote healing. It was a difficult task, getting an indication of what would really work considering that he couldn’t really tell her who he needed it for. She pressed him for further details but eventually seceded to give him five mixtures that may or may not work for his friend in need.

  While she slept, he mixed the concoctions, an ointment that was to be spread on the palms of their hands and the soles of her feet. There was a soup for her to eat, a tea for her to drink, and aromatherapy as well, burning herbs that promoted healing and rejuvenation. The last was a root, brought from Oikos from a tree that is one of the oldest in existence. He boiled it in a mixture of vinegar and the leaves of a chaste tree. This would be the hardest to get Asa to accept as she was supposed to chew on the r
oot. When he lifted the lid to the pot, he gagged on the smell.

  “This one may have been a waste of time.” He coughed and replaced the lid. There was no way he was going to get her to put that in her mouth. He checked in on her periodically and other than a few stirring motions, and the continued moaning in her sleep, there wasn’t much from his guest. He lit the herbs and rubbed the salve on her, expecting her to wake up, but she did not. The soup and tea could wait. Rest was important.

  The television was muted; images danced across the screen, text below captioning the events that occurred. Though the screen was active, his mind was not engaged. He stared in vain while his thoughts retraced the events of the past week. He’d gone from his normal routine into complete chaos. He thought of all the people he hadn’t been to visit, those who’d come to rely on him, and he hoped that they were all okay. Asa had struck a chord when she asked about. Those he had killed in hopes of eliminating the gods. He hadn’t forgotten them, he hadn’t taken their lost for granted. It was why he visited the old woman to provide food and companionship. He’d taken the life of her daughter. The single mother, her husband. The orphanage, the mother of the young boy who he spent most of his time with. He owed them all a debt, one he would never be able to fully repay. All he could do was hope and pray that his actions were not in vain.

  “Carter?” He was so lost in thought he barely heard his name called, and it wasn’t until after the third repetition that he realized she had awoken.

  “Asa?” Entering the room, he was relieved yet disappointed that she was no longer Calypso. “How are you feeling?”

  “Tired.” She yawned and stretched. “Actually, I do feel better. What is this?” A swipe of her hand across her face left marks of sticky ointment down her cheek.

  “It’s a salve, an ointment that is supposed to help you recover. I didn’t want to wake you, but it has healing properties. I reached out to a friend who helped me. It was hard, getting her to give me cures and not being able to tell who or what it was for. I’m sure I will be getting grilled about it later, but your secret is still safe.” He smiled as he moved to sit in the chair next to the bed.