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

by CK Dawn

  He pulled the object out. The white piece of stone stared up at him from his palm. He recognized it. This was one of the interlocking pieces of the artifact he had been supposed to steal. The other two were light green and blood red. The three of them formed a round piece of stone, like some sort of talisman.

  “Where are the other two pieces?” he asked himself aloud while examining the stone closer. It was white and shiny like mother-of-pearl.

  Then he looked at the dead body again. He remembered the moment before the explosion and the position in which he and the woman were standing. She wouldn’t have had enough time to grab the box before the cabin exploded. So the artifact would have been blown out of the box and shattered…and the white stone had embedded itself in her body.

  Or maybe she’d survived the explosion somehow and picked up the piece from the bottom of the ocean. But that wasn’t possible. Lorcan knew for a fact that the human body couldn’t survive direct contact with the environment of this submarine dimension.

  He slid the piece of stone into his pocket and continued to walk deeper into the cave. The further he walked, the higher the temperature got. It was as if he was walking into a heated oven.

  The cave corridor opened to a large area, hot and reeking of rotten flesh. Lorcan could see rows of small prison cells flanking the corridor.

  A couple of prison guards walked past. Lorcan ducked down as far as he could in between two rock columns to hide from the guards. When they turned the corner, he crept out and walked along the hall in the opposite direction. They must have come from the exit, because the direction in which they were going went down, deeper and darker.

  “Shhh!”

  Lorcan jumped at the noise that blasted at them. He turned and looked. It wasn’t coming from the wall but from a small window in a thick door, locked from the outside.

  The pair of eyes in the window stared at him, and there was a torrent of whispering.

  “I don’t speak Nepolymbian, and I don’t want anything to do with you,” Lorcan responded in a hushed tone and kept walking.

  “Hey!”

  He moved on.

  “Hey, human!” the person shouted in English, copying Lorcan’s tone exactly.

  Lorcan glared at the creature. “Don’t shout!” he said.

  “Open the door for us, and then I won’t make a sound.”

  Lorcan scurried along the corridor, heading out. The man in the cell yelled, “Guards!” in English, and followed that with a string of Nepolymbian.

  Lorcan heard the footsteps of the guards, charging his way from another direction. He turned and ran, but the footsteps were everywhere, echoing down the long and narrow corridor. Soon, guards of all shapes and sizes, armed to the teeth, flanked both ends of the corridor.

  Fifteen

  “You’ve just eaten!” the Keymaster exclaimed, looking at the baby angel’s pouting lips. He gazed into those beautiful eyes. They had been the first thing he saw whens he came to after the spider-wolves’ attack.

  He didn’t know how long he had lain there in the cold moss at the top of the cliffs. He awoke and saw that the baby had somehow gotten out of the protective stone circle he had put around her, crawled over and curled into his arms.

  He didn’t know who had kept whom warm in the midst of the night. The next thing he realized, his wounds had healed. He took the baby back to his home after he buried the parents’ bodies and promised them he’d take the baby to the Daimon Gate.

  “All right, I’ll get you more food. But don’t ask for milk. I’m not your mother. I make powerful keys that change worlds. But I don’t make milk.”

  He put a bowl of fruit in front of the baby angel. She stared at him.

  “All right, I understand. I’m not a vegetarian, either. But it’s all I’ve got.” He crouched next to the bench. “I’m going to take you to the Daimon Gate. People there will take care of you, much better than I do. But for now, I have this task at hand. I need to finish this key. So please bear with me. It won’t take long.”

  He returned to the large piece of stone in the middle of the room. “You see, I need to make this Key of Pisces. It’s important, and it’s supposed to be made of jade. It’s more than a job for a client now—it has your mother’s flesh and blood in it.”

  The baby giggled.

  “I know!” he sighed. “It’s taken me three times longer than my usual process.” He held up the stone carving knife. “Jade isn’t a hard stone to carve. It represents wisdom, balance, and peace, do you know that?”

  The baby made some more giggling noises.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” He cut into the light green part of the stone. But the cut resealed as soon as he pulled the knife out.

  “What the hell?” This had never happened before. Well, an angel had died, and her flesh and blood had been absorbed into this stone. Her blood had made a part of it red, and her flesh and feathers had made some of the stone a pure shiny white. At least that had been his assumption when he’d seen the three-color stone and the dead body of a female angel lying on top of it.

  But he wasn’t sure anymore.

  He had needed only the jade. He’d find another stone. It might take him a while, but this stone might have more than just three colors. It might not be worth his trouble.

  The baby made a giggling sound again.

  “You can laugh at me now. I can’t use this stone. What a waste of time. Why don’t I take you to the Daimon Gate and come back to this key later?”

  The baby smiled.

  “I knew you’d agree. You can’t wait to get out of here.”

  He approached the baby angel. She looked excited, he thought.

  Then she raised her hands and clapped.

  He covered his ears. It had been fine when she killed the wolves, but now, the clapping sounded like thunder and felt as if it punctured his brain.

  “Wait…don’t.”

  The baby clapped a few more times and stopped.

  He stood still, making sure there wasn’t another round of thunder. Then from the corner of his eye, he could see the stone had broken into three different pieces, each with one of three different colors.

  “What have we here?” he muttered. Then he looked at the baby. “Do you want me to make the key with stones of three colors?”

  The baby nodded.

  “When you respond, it feels rather creepy, you know. Why don’t you just make baby sounds?”

  He examined the stone. Each piece was cut precisely where the color stopped. He had never done this before, but he knew now he was meant to make this key with all three colors.

  Green. Red. White. What does this all mean? He held up the carving knife and started the work.

  Sixteen

  Lorcan opened his eyes and pulled at the steel shackles holding him to the wall. He was in a dark dungeon, surrounded by stone walls. The cell was dimly lit, and he couldn’t see a door anywhere. The heat rising from the floor was unbearable. He was surprised he hadn’t turned into charcoal already. This must be the place they called the Heating Ducts.

  “Human, how did you end up here?”

  The ancient voice echoed through the room. Lorcan blinked. The voice sounded distant, but it hadn’t come from far away at all. An old man with striking purple eyes was shackled a few feet away.

  “Why do you assume English is my human language? What if I spoke Cambodian?”

  The man chuckled. “It’s good that you can have a sense of humor under these conditions. It’ll help you retain your sanity.”

  Lorcan looked the man up and down. In the glowing light coming from a fire at the far end of the corridor, he could see the man’s formidable shape. He had long dark hair, broad shoulders, and a masculine face. There was something about him that held Lorcan’s attention. Maybe it was his aura and the authority in his voice.

  He was sure the man wasn’t human, because a human wouldn’t have addressed him as “human” the way he had. But what exactly the man was, Lorcan couldn
’t tell.

  “How long have you been here? Where are we? What do they want from us?”

  “I've lost track of time. But it hasn’t been long enough for me to forget why I'm here.”

  “This is the Heating Ducts, isn't it?”

  “You've got the name right, but you I don’t think you know what it’s really about.”

  “Who is that?” said another voice. “Why are you talking to him, Father?”

  Lorcan strained his eyes and saw a younger man tied to a wall behind the old man. He looked more frail, though, and didn’t share his father’s formidable features.

  “Just rest, son. Save your strength.”

  “I don’t think I can handle this, Father. I’m sorry I disappointed you.”

  “I only expect you to survive. Can you do that? Or did your mother die in vain?”

  The young man started to cry. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “Alexander, calm down. You’ll be fine.”

  “No, Father, I’m weak. I can’t survive any more torture.”

  “Yes, you can.”

  “No…I can’t. I’m useless…”

  “Stop it, Alexander. I order you—”

  “No, please let me die.”

  Lorcan saw a spark come from the old man’s eyes, and Alexander’s head flipped back then lolled toward the front. His body dangled heavily by the chains attached to the wall.

  “You killed your son?” Lorcan exclaimed, but then he saw the pain in the man’s eyes.

  “I merely put him to sleep. But whenever I do it, I draw energy out of him. He will be even weaker when he wakes.”

  Lorcan jiggled the shackles on his hands, and they began to cut into his flesh. “You must know something very important for them to kill your wife and torture your son. I hope the secret you’re keeping from them is worth it.”

  “I’m sure you’ve never had to take care of anything greater than yourself and those directly related to you.”

  Lorcan chuckled, thinking about the family he had left a long time ago to pursue his dreams in the city, and his love for Orla, his childhood sweetheart.

  “My family doesn’t need me to take care of them. The only person more important than my own life is my lover. And what I had been trying to do was to finish off a job, buy a ring, and propose to her. And see what that got me!” He yanked again at his shackles and said, “I can’t imagine how much more trouble I’d be in if I had to take care of something more important than that ordinary human affair.”

  “I see you’re a sentimental kind of person.”

  “Should I be embarrassed about that?”

  “Most human males would be. But you don’t look at all embarrassed about showing affection toward your woman.”

  “I don’t need to live up to anyone’s expectations. And I guess I’m selfish.” Lorcan took a closer look at the man. “You must be someone of high authority.”

  The man shook his head. “They have my family in here for a piece of jewelry, which if I knew where it was, I would give to them.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Yes, that’s all.”

  They heard a loud bang right in front of the door to their cell. Then the door swung open. A lanky man walked in, flanked by five creatures, all with small lizard-like heads and scaly green skin but human-like bodies. They were armed to the teeth, with a variety of weapons dangling from their vests.

  The lanky man didn’t wear much armor. He walked straight up to the old man.

  “The great Fabian?”

  “Who are you?”

  “My name is Pexami. Your daughter sends me.”

  “I don’t have a daughter.”

  “This is the only cell in which they keep the royals. Look, I don’t want to be disrespectful, but I’ve lost fifty pets, thirty soldiers, and seventeen inter-world mercenaries trying to get in here to see you. That’s much more than your daughter paid for. I don’t have time to waste.”

  Before Fabian could say anything further, Pexami yanked Fabian’s shirt open. Seeing the tattoo of two crossed tridents, he turned and said to the lizard mercenaries, “He’s the right one. Take the son.”

  One of the mercenaries moved to the wall to break the shackles. Pexami asked another two to break the lock on Fabian’s restraints. The old man said nothing, but Lorcan was sure there were millions of strategies running through the man’s head.

  Lorcan figured Fabian was not only royal but was perhaps at the highest rank in his court or some equivalent governmental structure in this dimension. Perhaps he could hitch a ride out of here.

  “It sounds like you endured a massive fight to get in here, but we didn’t hear any noise. If they let you get in too easily, it might be a trap,” Lorcan said.

  “Who are you?” Pexami asked.

  “No one important. But I worked my way in here via a tunnel, and no one saw me until a prisoner shouted. If you break my chains, I’ll take you out through that tunnel.”

  Pexami nodded and signaled the remaining mercenary to free Lorcan. The left the cell through its already open door and stepped out into a hallway covered in the blood and gore of dead creatures, wardens, and guards.

  Lorcan remembered the way and navigated precisely back to the tunnel. This was one of the important skill sets he had acquired after being a spy for so long.

  Once they entered the tunnel, Lorcan knew it would lead them back to the cave, and then they would swim out to the sharks if they still lurked nearby.

  He slowed down and whispered to Fabian, “There were sharks at the mouth of the cave. I don’t know if they’re still there.”

  Pexami turned around. “There is no time for chatting.”

  The lingering pain in Lorcan’s side intensified, and he rubbed at it absently. “You’re walking too fast,” he said. “I can’t keep up. The mouth of the cave is straight ahead. You can’t miss it. You don’t need me anymore.”

  Lorcan sat down on a large rock.

  Pexami shrugged and signaled the mercenaries to keep going. Then a mercenary Pexami had sent ahead to survey the grounds hurried back in, speaking in a stream of language Lorcan didn’t understand. But he could tell by the look on Pexami’s face that he was in trouble.

  Seventeen

  Fabian cast a glance at Lorcan and was pleased to see he wasn’t shaken by Pexami’s intimidation. He liked this young human, but he disliked the aura around Pexami, the contractor his daughter had hired.

  “My sharks are well-trained pets,” Pexami growled. “When I send them after prey, they don’t give up. As long as their prey is still within this dimension, they will find it.”

  Lorcan backed away, and his back struck the cave wall.

  Pexami approached slowly. “You are the only human prey I sent them after!”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  “You’re the human from the boat. The one with the key.”

  “I don’t know anything about a key.”

  “Faye is such a bitch. She paid me to get you. She knew you were with her family. She sent me to rescue her family and you, paying the same amount of money!”

  “I don’t like the way you’re talking about my daughter,” Fabian said and let out a long whistle. The sound penetrated the air and the dark water ahead. Fabian inhaled the air in the cave again, enjoying the freshness of it.

  He whistled again, calling for his daughter. Not only he would have his freedom back now, he had a feeling his reign would be returning. God had finally answered his prayers.

  Before the mercenaries could react, Fabian’s eyes sparked a bright purple shade. All five of them dropped to the ground like sacks of potatoes. Fabian smiled to himself. That was one of his many talents—he could vacuum the energy out of any person or creature he wanted.

  Generations of his family had descended here from Earth. They were living happily in Nepolymbus as royals before being overthrown. It pained him to think about Faye being out there by herself, struggling to survive in disg
uise, working nonstop to rescue the family so they could resume their government. His daughter was not a commoner. One day, she would be the rightful queen of this submarine dimension.

  Pexami grabbed his chest and slumped to the ground. He spat out black blood. “Poison!” he muttered. He looked up at Fabian. “Trademark of your daughter. I curse your entire family…” he said and then fell to the ground, dead.

  Fabian looked at Lorcan. “Something has to give for the greater good. He farms the killing sharks, and that is unforgivable under my reign.”

  “The situation suggests that the reign you talk about isn’t current.”

  “You’re a smart man. No wonder you’re the chosen one.”

  “Look, I know nothing about a key. And if you mention it one more time, I’m going to be pissed. I’m a spy and a thief. Yes, I steal for clients, but I’m no key keeper. And if you paid me, I’d give you the key. I wouldn’t keep it.”

  There was a sound like a train going past outside. Then it grew quiet again.

  Faye and Kai rushed into the cave.

  Faye darted toward Fabian and dropped to her knees as if she saw no one else there but him. He crouched, clutching her in his arms and letting her cry. The emotion came out of her like a storm.

  Kai glanced around, pulled out a knife, and killed the sleeping mercenaries.

  “Was that necessary?” Lorcan asked.

  “No, but if they awakened, they would kill you without asking whether it was necessary,” Kai said.

  Faye’s emotion subsided. She stood up, glanced around. Her eyes stopped on Lorcan.

  “He was put in the same cell with us,” Fabian said. “You hired Pexami to grab him from the surface, so he must have something to do with the key,”

  “No, Father.” She looked down to the ground.

  Fabian lifted her chin up and looked into her eyes.

  “Don’t lie to me, Faye.”

  A tear rolled down her cheek. She nodded. “Yes, he might have information about the key. He was with it before it vanished. We’re working on finding it.”