by Angie West
***
The sun was well overhead by the time we gathered at the edge of Bob and Marta's property a few minutes later. It was already hours past midday, and Mark stood at the head of the large group, which wasn't unusual. What was puzzling was the haggard expression on his face. It was there in the tight set of his jaw and his over-bright eyes.
"Mark?" I shot a look at Claire before taking a tentative step toward Mark. "What's going on?"
His green eyes cut to my own wary gaze and I glimpsed something that made my blood run cold. It was fear. Mark was afraid. No, the emotions I saw on his face went so much deeper than fear. For one brief second, an expression of sheer and utter despair arced across his taut features. Then it was gone. Just like that, Mark's face became a blank mask devoid of any and all emotion. The dread I had been feeling congealed into a tight, hard knot that settled in the pit of my stomach.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Mike come around the side of the house and stride across the lawn toward us. I noticed, but quickly returned my complete attention to Mark. This was it. Something was going to happen and soon. The expression on his face couldn't have been any clearer if he had shouted it from the rooftops-we were going into battle. Not later, not two weeks from now, but right now. The distant, elusive "later" had finally come-it was here.
"Mark," I demanded hoarsely. Claire stepped up beside me and I could feel the faint tremor that coursed through her body.
"They're coming," he said. "Spotters reported a large group of coatyl beginning to form and organize at the northern edge of Lerna. Two hours ago, they began to move. They're headed our way."
"How many?"
"Over three hundred, at last count."
The staggering total wrung a startled gasp from Claire. My hands clenched into fists at my sides. "Any sign of Kahn or the Shadow Man?"
"No," Mark answered. The word was understandably clipped, tense. We were in trouble, and that was putting it mildly.
"The fences?" I was petrified to even voice the question.
"The fences are holding, for now." His tone was grim.
Claire and I were still processing our dismal situation when the unthinkable happened. In the instant Mike had reached our sides, one of the soldiers, a young man who looked to be barely out of his teens, broke through the trees at the edge of the property, running hard. He made a beeline for us and even from faraway I could see the panic in his wide brown eyes. Then he stood before us and uttered the one thing guaranteed to strike cold fear into all of us.
"The fences are wavering. They're fading," he gasped, out of breath.
"Let's go." The words had barely left my mouth before I was off and running, a mad dash through the trees that would lead us to the border, to the fence line, and probably to disaster.
There was no need to stop and check to see if the others were behind me, even though Mark was the only one who was able to keep pace with me. I could have gone much faster. I could have flown and cut my time in half, but I didn't want to leave the rest of our small group in the dust, so to speak. And so I paced myself, which wasn't such a difficult task because as much as I knew we needed to get to the border-and fast-there was a part of me, however small, that was in no hurry to get there.
Mostly because I knew bad news waited for us at the end of that ever-decreasing distance. The fences would fail this time. Exactly how I knew this, I couldn't say, but I felt it with one hundred percent, blood-chilling certainty. It didn't matter that last night the protective spell on the fences had bounced back and remained intact. This time-right now-we would not be so lucky.
I did the best I could to prepare myself for what we would find in a matter of minutes. I took slow, deep, even breaths and my gaze remained fixed firmly ahead. There was a job to be done and people were depending on me; this is what I chose to focus on. The duty, the responsibility, not the fear. And oh there was fear? Fear and dread and a whole myriad of emotions lived and breathed and preyed in the darkest corners of my heart.
I felt them there, in the way my pulse beat rhythmically, almost painfully, against my rib cage. It was the one thing I couldn't control.
But fear was crippling and so logic dictated there would be plenty of time for that later and, if there wasn't, then really, not having the opportunity to freak out and be terrified wasn't any great loss.
As I dashed through the woods with Mark on my heels and Claire and Mike several paces behind but still following at a fast clip, I thought of all the people who depended on me and who were counting on me-people like Ashley and Sienna and the children of my village, the nymphs, the people who lived under the dome. Thinking of them, and the people back home, piled on some added pressure but at the same time it helped me to stay focused on the task at hand-handling the situation with the fence.
I didn't like to think of it that way, as something that had to be handled, but it was true. Things were about to go horribly, irrevocably wrong. And so it came as no surprise when the four of us burst into the clearing to find the shimmering fence flickering crazily. No.
Hundreds of warriors were already gathered around, grimly watching the scene unfold.
I didn't blame them. I had no clue how to stop what I was pretty sure we all knew was inevitable. Mark came skidding to stop next to me. Claire and Mike cleared the tree line only seconds later. Both were gasping for breath.
"Oh, no." Claire clutched at the heavy strap of my pack. "We've got to do something."
Mark was shaking his head before I had a chance to answer. "There's nothing to be done, Claire, not now."
"No!" she cried, wide-eyed. "There must be something. This is not-" Her hands curled into fists. "This is not happening. Damn it, we have to do something." Claire's shrill, panicked command broke through the numb shock and with a start I realized she was right. I darted to the fence and gripped the wooden top rung with both hands, pressing hard and trying to lend some of my own strength to the flickering, fading light. Beside me, Claire did the same.
"What are we doing?" she asked without loosening her white-knuckle grip on the fence.
I watched thin tendrils of wispy light and sparkles weave around our fingers, the light becoming slower and weaker with each passing second.
"I don't know. But this worked last night. I thought?"
"Well, it's not working now."
"I can see that." I forced the words through my teeth.
The energy pulsed and vibrated beneath our fingertips and we held on tighter. A giant flashing light exploded into the sky-one final, desperate outburst. The light was gone. Finished.
I turned to see Mark next to Claire and me. For a moment he looked up and I could completely understand the stark desperation that was etched on his features. Because we were desperate and there was no end in sight, except our own.
"Oh God, no." Claire raised horrified eyes to mine and abruptly released the plain-looking fence. "This is bad, Ari," she whispered, her troubled gaze darting to the ominously silent forest beyond the now-useless fence.
"Bad." I nodded, swallowed. "That's one way of putting it."
But it was about to get much worse. The whole lot of us stood there for long moments, sprites and warriors and nymphs alike, until a young, slim soldier-a scout-dashed out of those woods and jumped the fence.
"They're coming," the girl shouted. "Lots of them. Hundreds of them."
"Where?" Mark demanded.
"About ten miles back."
Her words incited a flurry of action around us, most of which was chaotic and counterproductive. Ten miles. I exchanged a desperate look with Mark. Neither of us had to say we were screwed. We were all well aware of how fast the coatyl were capable of moving. Mike and Bob's studies of the creature I'd killed had even suggested the potential for increased speed in the mutated ones. Could we fight them? All of them?
My heartbeat was a dull, deep ache in my chest as I spun in a slow circle; all around me, arguments were breaking out. It hurt. Oh how it hurt to think
of the thousands of people back in the town and the small outlying areas, the men, women, and children who were counting on us to protect them from Khan and horrors like the coatyl.
What the fuck had we spent years and months and hours training for? So that we could be slaughtered along with our entire communities? Everyday citizens and?family. Innocents like Megan and Rose, Ashley and Sienna, who were, at this very moment, practicing lines for some silly Christmas play Tara had cooked up. Tara. I froze, suddenly thinking of the vivacious nymph and her over-abundance of holiday decor?of lights.
"Hey!" I shouted over the cacophony of sound that swelled around me. "Hey! Everybody!" I took a deep breath. "Quiet!" I screamed for all I was worth.
Most of the noise subsided then and I waved a small group of warriors closer. "I think I know how to fix this." My voice rang out cool and clear. "We have to recreate the lights around the fence. And we have to hurry."
A wide grin spread across Aranu's face. "Smart." He inclined his head.
"But it won't keep anything out," one of marksmen argued, looking harried. "We need to prepare for a battle-"
"We won't win." Aranu cut the soldier off. "And we're wasting time. Listen to what Aries has to say."
"Let's run!" someone else shouted from the outskirts of the group gathered in a wide circle around Mark, Aranu, Claire, Mike, and me.
"No!" I roared, eyes narrowing on the soldiers gathered close. "No one runs until they're told. Panic and chaos will bring us nothing but death today." I didn't bother to point out the high probability that death would claim us today anyway. Instead I launched straight into my plan.
"Spread out, nymphs, and move down the fence line. We've got to be quick," I instructed. "There's a lot of fence to illuminate and very little time left."
I took my place at the fence, concentrated on how the shimmering used to look, and exhaled close to the wood. Tiny, glowing sparkles danced around the post and I had to admit, while it wasn't an exact replica of what the Matrons had done-it looked damn close.
"Wow," Claire murmured, "Ari, I think?this could work." She eyed the two-by-four section of lit-up fencing with shrewd speculation. "What can I do to help?"
"Stand there and act like we're not about to be slaughtered," I answered before turning to Mark and the other men. "You've all got to go. Right now. I don't want to chance any of those things seeing you, so go back that way, toward the village."
"No way." Mark planted his hands on his hips.
"Like hell," Aranu added.
"Have you lost your mind?" Mike exploded, oblivious to the hard stare Aranu leveled on him.
"Hardly," I bit out before forcing myself to take a deep breath and be diplomatic. "Listen, for this to work we have to be convincing. Those things, and possibly even Kahn and the Lahuel, have to believe there's nothing wrong here, nothing out of the ordinary," I stressed. "In other words, no reason for us to rally the troops."
"She's right." Claire gestured to the golden shimmer that cast its light over the clearing and the band of woodland nymphs who'd already moved farther down the fence line, hastily casting their artificial shimmer as they went. "They have to believe we're still protected by the enchantment. Please." She looked first at her husband, then her brother.
"We aren't leaving." Mark's voice rang with cold authority.
"If those coatyl come through the fence at us, there won't be a damn thing you or your men can do about it," I pointed out.
"I said we aren't leaving."
"Then at least hide in the trees behind us." I sighed, knowing it was all the compromise we were likely to get from the stubborn jackasses.
"Unbelievable. Just what happens if this plan of yours doesn't work?" Mike demanded.
I flipped him a single glance over one shoulder. "Then I guess we'll all die."
