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

by CK Dawn

  As the men whistled and cheered, the distant town plunged into blackness.

  “What happened to the village?” Orlando asked.

  “Someone’s coming,” Vladimir warned.

  A pillar of light moved toward them from the border of Hell Gate.

  “Code Three!” Orlando pulled out his combat knife and dashed toward the light. The giant and the other commandos fanned out, closing in on the spot of light from either side.

  Vladimir guarded Lucienne, though she didn’t really need a shield. Orlando grabbed the unknown figure running toward them and threw him to the ground. Dropping to a knee, he put his knife to the person’s throat. “It’s that peasant girl,” he called over his shoulder, removing his knife.

  Lucienne strode toward them with Vladimir beside her.

  The light on the ground illuminated the redhead’s heart-shaped face. Lucienne picked up the light bar the girl had dropped, studying it. She twisted the bar. There was no opening. It shone on its own as the only source of light in this blackout town.

  Orlando extended his hand to help the girl, but she hit his hand away and got up on her own. “I’m not a peasant girl! I have a name,” she said.

  “Violet, right?” Lucienne asked.

  “Give me back my light pen!” Violet reached toward Lucienne.

  Lucienne gave the pen back to the girl. “What are you doing here?”

  “I need to talk to you,” the girl said, then stopped, startled as Ziyi’s voice buzzed out of a radio in Orlando’s belt. “Dragonfly was blocked for twenty minutes. A commotion is breaking out in the town. The natives have vowed to take down all of you. Kind of scary.”

  “What do you want to talk about?” Lucienne turned to Violet. “Make it quick. Apparently I have a war to fight.”

  “Can your machine bird find my friend?”

  “Which friend?” Lucienne already knew.

  “Ash,” Violet said fiercely. “Your bird can find him. You must find him!”

  “My bird can do many things, but my warriors are eager to go home,” Lucienne said, testing the girl. “Why should they stay and search for him? He’s nothing to me.”

  “If you find him, he’ll help you build a bigger and faster machine bird.”

  Lucienne laughed musically. “He’s only a farm boy, like the rest.”

  Anger blazed in Violet’s eyes. “Ash is nothing like the rest! I’ll show you.” She shoved her hand inside her odd-looking peasant green blouse.

  Vladimir kept the girl in sight, ready to pounce if she produced a weapon. Lucienne darted an amused glance at him. After spending two years with her, he was now aware that every girl had the potential to be dangerous.

  Violet dragged out a silver flute. Vladimir relaxed his shoulders, but Lucienne fixed her eyes on the instrument—it might not be an ordinary flute. Before she could question the girl, Violet placed the lip plate below her lower lip and breathed into the embouchure hole.

  High-pitched screams filled the air.

  Orlando and the warriors threw their hands over their ears, doubling over. Lucienne clenched her teeth, while Vladimir, his strength barely holding out, lunged at Violet, snatched the flute from her, and blew a lungful of air into the mouthpiece that her lips had just touched.

  The scream persevered.

  Beads of perspiration crawled down the warriors’ faces and their eyes bulged in anguish.

  Vladimir bent the weapon against his knee, but it was unbreakable. He smashed it onto the ground. Nothing worked. He dropped the flute as the horrible sounds became too much. Staggering, he raised his gun and leveled it at Violet, who remained untouched.

  “Don’t . . . shoot!” Lucienne warned. She knew if the redhead died, the sound would never be turned off. “Turn . . . it off . . . now!” she commanded Violet.

  Violet picked up the tool and blew air into the opposite end of the flute. The screech ceased instantly. “Ash made the Screamer. It doesn’t hurt me or Ash’s family,” the girl gloated. “Only he and I can turn it off. Would you like me to show you again?”

  Lucienne’s face was still pale from the onslaught. “You’ve made your point. But if you try it again, my men will shoot you.” Her soft approach from moments ago was gone. Lucienne had steel in her eyes.

  “Ash didn’t set the sound to the killing range. I wasn’t going to kill you,” Violet said without sympathy or even a hint of regret.

  “You turn it on again, we will kill you,” Lucienne asked. “Do you understand?”

  Violet glared at Lucienne, then nodded. “Will you help find Ash?”

  “Besides Ashburn, who else can make things like that?” Lucienne asked.

  “No one,” Violet said. “The others are all mean and useless.”

  “We have a more urgent matter, Lucia,” Vladimir said. “The riot—”

  “The riot can wait,” Lucienne shifted to Russian. “We must find this boy first. I don’t want anyone else getting to him before I know if he is the one who tampered with the Eye of Time.” She turned to Violet, shifting back to English. “You can tell me more about your friend inside my bird.”

  “Fine,” Violet said. “Thank you.”

  Lucienne didn’t hear appreciation or trust in the girl’s voice. She knew the redhead had no choice but to rely on them, strangers, to find her friend.

  “Don’t thank me yet. I need payment for our efforts,” Lucienne said.

  “I don’t have money.” Violet’s lips tightened; her eyes flashed panic.

  “The Screamer will do. I can’t risk letting you use it against us again.”

  “I won’t. I give you my word.”

  Lucienne laughed softly. “Words are cheap.”

  “Not mine. This Screamer is Ash’s. I can’t just give it to you.”

  “Suit yourself,” Lucienne said. “We’re leaving.” She said to her warriors. “If she attempts to use it again, shoot her hands.” She headed to the aircraft, her men flanking her.

  Orlando walked backward, his gun trained before him, his eyes on Violet.

  “Take it!” Violet scurried toward Lucienne.

  Lucienne signaled for Orlando to get the Screamer. He took it from the redhead and held it like it was a snake.

  “Follow us,” Vladimir commanded Violet.

  Lucienne let Orlando take the co-pilot seat beside Vladimir as she sat with the redhead in the back. Orlando offered to fly BL7, but Vladimir politely turned him down. The two argued heatedly for a few seconds.

  “Orlando will fly it when we go home,” Lucienne intervened.

  “Fair enough.” Orlando flashed Vladimir a gloating grin.

  “But—” Vladimir wasn’t pleased.

  “Orlando is as good a pilot as you are. If he wants to share the burden, let him,” Lucienne said. “You’ve flown BL7 more often than anyone. Don’t think I don’t know.” Before Orlando could gloat further and Vladimir protest, Lucienne said, “Now, will you two be quiet for a moment and let the girls talk, please?”

  Violet’s hands grabbed the edge of the seat. She loosened her grip and put on a brave face when she noticed Lucienne watching her.

  “In order to locate your friend, I need to know why he came to Hell Gate,” Lucienne said.

  “He’d never have come here if it weren’t for me. The law forbids anyone to enter Hell Gate, for fear of waking up an evil spirit here.” Tears sparkled in Violet’s forest green eyes.

  “How do you know there’s an evil spirit here?” Lucienne asked.

  “The Book says there is,” Violet said.

  “What kind of book?”

  “The only book we have. The Priestess keeps it in the temple,” Violet said.

  A light glowed in Lucienne’s eyes. Could it be the last scroll that had evaded her family for centuries? Was it hidden in this cloaked town after all? Lucienne made a mental note to fetch this book after retrieving Ashburn. She continued to interrogate the girl. Violet was protective when it came to her friend and sly at holding back information, b
ut Lucienne tailored to the girl’s needs. When she expressed her admiration of the redhead’s special friendship with Ashburn, Violet opened like a floodgate. Within minutes, Lucienne had all the information. The Book wasn’t the third scroll but a brainwashing tool; Ashburn was advanced; Nirvana was a wrinkled reflection of Eterne.

  BL7 circled Hell Gate, then Attu Mountain, then the surrounding areas for two rounds in a slow scan. On the screen, all Lucienne saw were snowy mountains and sulfur-worn rocky land.

  Ziyi reported through the communication link, “Dragonfly has searched the Aleutian islands three times. Two: no trace of the missing kid. Three: the footage we recovered didn’t show how he disappeared. Last: the satellite counted nine hundred ninety-seven humans within the nameless town.”

  “How many people do you have in Nirvana?” Lucienne asked Violet.

  “Nine hundred ninety-nine,” Violet said.

  “Then Ashburn isn’t in the town,” Lucienne said.

  “Our fuel’s low.” Vladimir turned to look at Lucienne over his shoulder.

  “Outside the mysterious town, all three hundred square miles of the island are covered in snow,” Ziyi said. “Even if he isn’t wheelchair-bound, he won’t survive long.”

  “Ash must be around, somewhere. He must be.” Violet begged. “Please find him!”

  Ziyi’s voice commented. “Guys, sorry to interrupt again, but you have an imminent crisis: two hundred or so peasant soldiers are marching in your direction with primary weaponry. See for yourselves.”

  The townsfolk marched with burning torches and weapons, including kitchen knives and spears.

  Lucienne turned to Violet. “We’ll look for Ashburn again tomorrow. Where should we drop you?”

  “Can you just look for him a little longer? Maybe you’ll find him if you—”

  “No, we can’t. We don’t have enough fuel,” Lucienne said. “Which means the bird is hungry. Without proper food, it won’t stay in the sky.”

  Violet bit her lip and lowered her eyes. “Drop me at Hell Gate.”

  BL7 stopped at Hell Gate to let the girl out, then took off, and headed toward the lost city.

  Nine

  The king had assembled an army.

  Gathering at Nirvana’s entrance, farmers and soldiers brandished torches and spears, shouting, “Fight for the gods! Bury the outsiders at Hell Gate!” Archers shot a stream of flaming arrows at the approaching BL7. A spear hit the cockpit window and bounced off the bulletproof glass.

  “That’s definitely not nice.” Ziyi’s voice came through the intercom. “Should I be worried about your safety, Lucia?”

  “We’ll be fine, Ziyi,” said Lucienne.

  “It’s hundreds against the five of you!” Ziyi said.

  “Then don’t disturb us,” Vladimir said. “We’re busy.”

  “Well, I love you, too,” Ziyi said.

  “Then I pity you.” Vladimir turned to Lucienne with a dazzling smile. “Ready to roll, Lucia? Like old times?”

  Lucienne had retaken the co-pilot seat after they’d dropped off the redhead. She regarded Vladimir’s boyish grin, her blood racing. “What’s stopping you, Blazek?” she purred sweetly, tilting her head to one side and gazing at him.

  Vladimir looked dazed for a few seconds, blowing out a long breath.

  “Yeah, what’s stopping you, Blazek?” Orlando said impatiently. “If the natives want to play hardball, let’s toss it back.”

  Vladimir pushed down on the joystick.

  BL7 dipped and skipped over the crowd like a surfer riding rough waves. The violent wind forced the army to scatter. As the jet pulled up to skim over the town, the crew spotted an ancient temple with a high terrace on the north corner of the marble square, its golden columns aligned over the richly decorated platform.

  “It looks similar to the Temple of Artemis at Ephesus,” Vladimir said.

  “It can’t be modeled after that. The natives have their own gods,” Lucienne said. “Besides, how would they know about one of the Seven Wonders of the World?”

  The jet’s intense searchlight homed in on two fifteen-foot-tall, winged statues guarding each side of the temple. At the feet of the statues lay a sacrificed lamb and a pig’s head. Incense smoke swirled into the air from an open altar.

  “Orlando,” Lucienne called, “behead one of their idol gods.” She pressed a button on the control panel. BL7 opened a triangular side door and hovered in the air.

  Orlando lifted a rocket launcher to his shoulder and fired.

  Marble debris rained down. A second later, the god’s head on the right side of the temple plunged to earth.

  “Lucia, I beg you,” Vladimir sighed. “Don’t make a habit out of abolishing relics.”

  “Just trying to give the natives a new god,” Lucienne said. “Better to behead their gods than put bullets in their flesh.”

  She turned on BL7’s external speakers. “People of Nirvana,” she announced, “we are the outsiders from the sky. We have the gods’ power and have beheaded one of your gods. We can destroy you, your town, and everything you love, just as easily. You don’t stand a chance if you choose to fight us. We do not come to hurt you, so don’t make us.”

  The king’s hysterical shouting was drowned out by BL7’s roar and Lucienne’s announcement. “We’re going to land the gods’ vessel and have a word with your king and queen.”

  BL7 dropped Orlando onto the terrace of the temple. In position, he adjusted his night-vision sniper rifle, the best in the black market, training it toward the crowd below until he found the archers.

  The machine touched down in the center of the square. The giant commando stepped out first and pushed down his helmet. Looking through his visor, he held an M16 automatic rifle out before him. The sensors inside the helmet gave him three-dimensional audio and detected threats faster than the mind ever could. Lucienne had personally tested the outfit. It was sensually powerful.

  With a collective gasp, the villagers staggered back several feet. “Monster!” they called the giant. The king’s army waved their weapons and shouted in ferocity and fear.

  Duncan, the last commando, jumped onto the top of BL7 to cover the team’s blind spots. He mounted an MG43 machine gun, his eyes locked on the crowd.

  Carrying a case, Lucienne stepped out of BL7 with Vladimir at her side and walked straight toward the king and queen. The nine guards shielded the royal family in a half circle, while his army moved to surround Lucienne and her warriors.

  Flipping two handguns—including an Armatix Pistol—in his hands, Vladimir gestured for the guards to step back so that Lucienne could approach the king. Lucienne read the king’s conflicting thoughts—if he ordered an attack, could he get the upper hand? He had witnessed the manifestation of the outsiders’ gunpowder. But if he lost this battle, the outsiders would slay him. The queen whispered to the king, and with a grim expression, he waved for the guards to back down.

  As the guards fell back, Vladimir, tense and on alert, stayed put. Lucienne stood in front of the king. “We meet again, King and Queen,” she greeted with a cozy smile, “as I promised.”

  “I don’t want war, either,” the queen said in Spanish.

  You know you can’t win. “Then we’re on the same page,” Lucienne replied in Spanish.

  “Is it gold you want?” the queen asked. “We’ll offer you a load of gold for you and your men to leave in peace.”

  “I have more gold than you can imagine. I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth.” Lucienne laughed.

  The king gritted his teeth.

  “Then why have you entered our kingdom and risked your life?” the queen asked. “We’ve allowed you to conduct your affairs in Hell Gate, and that should be it.”

  “Unfortunately, we haven’t found the source of the abnormal climate change. Meanwhile, our world is suffering from global warming,” Lucienne said. “We need to locate Ashburn Fury first. Something must have happened before he disappeared.”

  “The cripple
is gone forever,” the king said. “No one has ever survived once they’ve crossed the Hell Gate.”

  “Ashburn Fury’s fate is in the hands of the gods and is not for you or me to decide,” Lucienne said. “But first, you need to open your eyes.” She pulled a laptop computer from her case.

  The king and queen jumped back at the sight of the laptop.

  “It won’t bite.” Lucienne switched on the computer.

  The guards stepped toward her. In the blink of an eye, Vladimir was at her side, his Armatix trained on the guards. “One step closer, and I’ll blow your brains out!” he warned viciously.

  The bulky guard who almost stomped the farm couple to death in Hell Gate had bloodlust in his eyes. Lucienne read his savage thoughts. He believed they could outnumber her warriors. If he killed this outsider queen, the king’s army would prevail. Without warning, he threw a two-blade dagger at Lucienne in an attempt to behead her.

  Vladimir’s sanjiegun instantly lashed out, smashing the flying dagger. Before the dagger even hit the ground, the guard dropped, his body riddled with bullet holes.

  “Stop!” Lucienne raised a hand, and the sound of the ear-piercing gunfire ceased.

  The first blood had been drawn, and Lucienne wanted to be sure this didn’t turn into a blood bath. Just when she was about to order a retreat, three black wolf-dogs bolted toward her and Vladimir. Someone had unleashed the war mutts.

  Lucienne slid her whip from around her wrist and pitched it in the air. The uncoiled whip stretched to seven feet, hissing, but didn’t even have the chance to draw second blood. The beast at the forefront bellied up amid the sickening sound of its neck snapping. Cam the giant tossed its corpse aside. The last two mutts collapsed with a yelp ten yards before they reached Lucienne. Vladimir’s Armatix killed one of them. Orlando’s rifle gunned down the other.

  Lucienne turned to the king and queen with a blank expression. “Are you ready to conduct business now? Or do you have more variety?”