The Awakened World Boxed Set

by William Stacey

  "Shane Harper was a traitor," Tavi said. "He was working for the Tzitzime and controlling the chupacabra pack with a talisman, but he had no idea the dragon was here."

  "I remember him as a student. He was odd. Always struck me as older and quicker to learn his lessons. Maybe he was already a Tzitzime mage. Or maybe the Tzitzime simply considered him a useful idiot. No doubt Mother Smoke Heart doesn't tell him everything, but she may have also been unaware of the dragon's presence."

  "He—the dragon—believes the Tzitzime are trying to lure him out into the open," Angie said.

  Queen Elenaril nodded. "The Twin Deaths would finish him as they did his brothers. As I said, it is dangerous to interfere in their affairs."

  "Yet you sent us here to do just that. Why?"

  "Because the twins must be stopped. If their sire Memnog is released from his stone enchantment, none of the Fey can stop him. The twins and their Tzitzime cultists controlling the Aztalans are bad enough, but Memnog would leave nothing but ash and charred bones. You must stop them from sacrificing the changeling and using her blood to break the spell that binds Memnog."

  "We did," Angie said, casting a glance at Erin.

  "No," said Queen Elenaril sadly. "They have found their sacrifice, the Haanal X'ib of prophesy."

  "They have another female werewolf?" Erin asked, her face reflecting her disbelief.

  Queen Elenaril shook her head. "The prophesy calls for the blood of the Haanal X'ib."

  "Yes, we know," said Angie. "The one who is changed."

  "Changeling," corrected the queen. "The blood of a female changeling. Never a female werewolf."

  Queen Elenaril must have recognized the confusion in their faces, because she turned to her guard commander, Wyn Renna. "Show them, daughter."

  "Yes, my queen." Once again, the voice sounded eerily familiar to Angie. The elven warrior unclasped her helm and pulled it free, revealing the short blond hair, angular features, and ice-blue eyes of Mago Commandante Constance Florida Morgan.

  "Mago Commandante Morgan," Tavi said in disbelief. "I … what?"

  "I am not your Mago Commandante," she said, her voice no longer muffled by the helmet. "Nor have I answered to that name in years, even if it is my birth name."

  "It might be best if you use it once more," said the elven Queen. "Our deception has come to an end, it seems."

  "What are you?" Angie asked.

  "She is human, as human as you," Queen Elenaril said. "Although she has spent many years among my people. She has become a powerful mage, no doubt the most powerful of all humans."

  "You switched them," Angie said, suddenly understanding. "I thought the stories of elves stealing babies were myths."

  "Not babies," Queen Elenaril said. "We would not do such a cruel thing. Constance Morgan was an adult when she came to us—of her own accord. We stole no one."

  "This makes no sense."

  "Then let me explain. After the Awakening, when the dragons forced my kind out of the Hallows and into this world, we became vulnerable and needed to protect ourselves from humans. You don't understand how much of a shock it was to us. In one moment, my people went from safety, from slipping back and forth between the realms, to the sudden anarchy of this broken world and all its anger. And amid all this turmoil, Constance Morgan came to us seeking our help."

  "It's true," Wyn Renna, aka Constance Morgan, aka the woman standing before them said. "I was twenty-five on A-Day, a lieutenant in the U.S. Army Reserves and on maneuvers, training with the rest of my unit. When the power went out, I felt something flow through me. My world had changed, and I knew I was different. It's hard to describe, but I knew that if I didn't learn to control the forces I felt, the magic flowing around me, I'd die."

  "I understand," Angie said. "It was the same for us all. If not for the Concord and Char's school..."

  "Then you know this was before the Concord," Morgan continued. "During all the chaos, the breakdown of society, the Food Wars. My unit tried to do what it could, but without communications or vehicles, there was just nothing. Nothing anyone could do. It was barbarism. Neighbor killing neighbor for the barest scrap of food—or any other pretense. My commander was trying to do as Marshal was doing, to set up a protected zone, but..." Her voice trailed off. She composed herself and kept going. "And during all this, the Fey suddenly appeared, elves and fairies and creatures of legend, all forced out of their own realm and into ours. We heard rumors about them, heard that they could do ... magical things. And I saw the only chance I had. I needed to find them, to find someone who could teach me to control the magic."

  "And so she came to us," Queen Elenaril said. "We were in hiding because of your kind. Every interaction we had had with humans resulted in violence, and we almost killed her out of hand. Only my daughter, the real Wyn Renna, stayed my hand."

  "Real Wyn Renna?" Angie asked.

  "The woman you met who called herself Constance Morgan," the tall blond woman standing beside the queen said. "The one who took my face and my place among humanity."

  "We recognized Constance as a mage," Elenaril continued, "and trained her accordingly. We even bonded her with a shade so that she wouldn't burn herself out. But the fighting around us raged. Human against human. Human against Fey." Queen Elenaril closed her eyes and shook her head. "When we heard of Marshal's Concord with your mother Chararah, I saw an opportunity. We needed our own Concord so that I might secure a safe home for my people. But we didn't trust humanity. We have never trusted humanity. But if we could send one of our own among you, we'd have a spy within your own courts. And who better than one of your own mages, those most likely to sit in council with your leaders?"

  "That makes all too much sense," Casey said.

  "It does," Rowan acknowledged.

  "How?" Angie asked.

  "Through a powerful elven ritual known only to us. Even your mother Chararah did not know it, although I believe she suspected. My own eldest daughter, the real Wyn Renna, volunteered for this role. With powerful magics, we altered her form. Using Constance as a willing example, we changed my daughter’s appearance. The transformation, sadly, was permanent, but my daughter was ever a martyr to her people. She willingly became a changeling."

  "And she returned to the new Democratic Republica of Mexicana del Norte," Angie finished.

  Queen Elenaril nodded. "And the real Constance Morgan stayed among us as the captain of my Phoenix Guard, a life of honor and service."

  Angie's gaze darted to the human woman in the elven armor. She was Constance Morgan, but she was also Wyn Renna, and Wyn Renna was Constance Morgan. It was too confusing. "If you don’t mind, I’m going to call you Constance Morgan and the other—the one I met—Wyn Renna. I’m done with masks."

  "I stopped thinking of myself as Constance Morgan many years ago," the woman said. She looked to the queen, her blue eyes flashing with love. "Queen Elenaril and her people saved me. Serving her has been my duty. I would prefer to live out the rest of my life as Wyn Renna."

  "No," said the queen. "The time for tricks is over. We must all be who we were born to be. You must be Constance Morgan once more."

  The blond woman shivered but nodded, her lips a tight gash.

  Angie stared at her, the realization of what had transpired all those years ago reverberating into the present. "Quetzalcoatl believes that kidnapping Tec—and the chupacabra attacks—were meant to draw him out of hiding."

  "That may very well be true, but it is only part of the truth," Queen Elenaril stated.

  Sudden realization coursed through Angie. The dragon hadn’t known about Constance Morgan and Wyn Renna. "Tec wasn’t the target," she said in a whisper, her heart beating quickly.

  "No, my daughter was. The true Wyn Renna. The changeling. The Tzitzime learned of her and must have concluded she, not Erin, is the Haanal X'ib whose blood will free Memnog."

  "If that's true, she's long dead by now, and the Tzitzime have her blood to free this super-dragon Memnog."

 
; Queen Elenaril shook her head. "Not so, not just yet. The Tzitzime put great stock in the alignment of the constellations. They will wait for the blood sun, when her blood is most powerful—tomorrow morning’s sunrise."

  "This just gets worse and worse," Rowan muttered.

  "Can't you do anything?" Angie asked.

  "That is why we came." Elenaril turned to the woman standing beside her. "Wy—Constance shall go with you, as well as these Phoenix Guard warriors, the finest fighters in the land."

  Angie glanced to Rowan, who shrugged. "Shrike can carry them—if Tavi can keep her part of the deal."

  "I'll do it," Tavi said with conviction, still staring wonderingly at Morgan.

  "She's not your commander, Tavi," Angie warned her. "Remember that. She's chosen to live among elves, not her own kind."

  "Do you question my resolve?" Morgan asked, her eyes sharp.

  "Are we gonna do some flying and blow some shit up or not?" Casey demanded. "Awful lot of talking going on, and ain't nobody who ever needed killing got dead by talking about it all night."

  Rowan sighed, but the trace of a smile turned up his mustache. "All right. But we're gonna need to go back into Tec's private arsenal and look for more NVGs and radios for your people."

  "Not necessary," said Morgan. "Our elven magic will suffice. We just need to close with our foe. Don't worry about us."

  "You're not an elf," Angie said.

  If she was offended, it didn't show. "I may as well be now. Trust me. Unlike you, I know far more than two spells."

  Angie reached a hand to Queen Elenaril’s sleeve but stopped herself before touching the elven queen. "Wait, I have a question, something else."

  Queen Elenaril’s strange eyes fixed upon Angie, her face expressionless. "Something that bothers you, I see."

  "Vampires, Ephix’s kin. They attacked Canyon City the other night, tried to kill the Norteno president and … and me. Why?"

  "What you really mean is why would Ephix Lamia try to kill you."

  "Yes."

  "She wouldn’t, as I’m sure you’ve already guessed. I told you the last time we met that there were few Fey remaining within the Aztalan Empire. That wasn’t entirely true. There is a clan of vampires—dark, loathsome creatures that no Fey has communicated with in more than a decade—the Night Kin, they call themselves. They do not answer to Ephix Lamia but to … another Fey, one even more vile. The lure of the Twin Deaths can be irresistible even for Fey. Be careful, Angela. You have made fearsome enemies."

  Angie shivered. But Rowan stepped forward. "They need to worry about us." He turned to Morgan. "Get your people in the bed of the truck. You're not gonna need horses tonight."

  Minutes later, they were driving away from the mountain, Morgan and her warriors crammed into the cargo truck, hanging on as the vehicles bumped their way down the mountain road.

  When Angie and the others drove into the Norteno airhead hours later, their Shrike was still there. Unfortunately, so was a platoon of armed Norteno soldiers and the uptight Norteno officer, Captain Aguinaldo, who had tried to arrest them when they first arrived days earlier. To be fair, Angie had to admit, we did just break out and lead them on a chase.

  "This is most irregular, Mago Diputado," the Norteno captain said to Tavi, his face shiny with perspiration. His eyes darted about, jumping from the elven warriors to Angie and the Seagraves. "These people are fugitives. The others are…"

  "No, these people are allies," Tavi said. "All of them. If not for their help, I'd be dead and my mission a failure. Do you doubt my authority?"

  "I … well…" His hands flailed, and his lower lip quivered.

  Angie stood next to the woman she had thought was Wyn Renna but was the actual Constance Morgan—a woman who had spent more than a decade living as an elf. Morgan still wore her conical lion-maned helmet, her face hidden. Tavi had used the radio inside the armored vehicle to call ahead, but the sudden appearance of two military vehicles filled with fugitives and elven warriors had been too much for Captain Aguinaldo. Apparently, General Gálvez had departed for the capital earlier in the day, and now the captain wanted to hold the Seagraves until contact could be made with him.

  Despite the ongoing debate, Casey supervised the elves as they lifted down the containers of aviation fuel and then showed them how to refuel the aircraft. Even from here, Angie could smell the sharp tang of the JP-8 fuel.

  The Norteno captain, however, looked ready to soil his pants, and Angie knew this could turn violent in a moment. The tension was becoming dangerous.

  "I'm sorry, Mago Diputado," the officer stated, his voice rising now, clearly for the benefit of the troops behind him. "I cannot permit this. General Gálvez insisted the aircraft be held ready for use during an invasion. You cannot take it. What's more, I must insist these escaped prisoners be disarmed and placed under arrest. The …"—he looked as though he had just smelled something unpleasant as his eyes drifted over the elves—"guests must also give up their weapons while we sort this mess out."

  Casey, standing less than twenty feet away as he supervised the refueling, turned and glared at the much smaller Norteno officer. "Try it, you little shit. See how far you get."

  Rowan glowered at his brother, gripping his arm and whispering something to him, but the nearby Norteno soldiers fanned out, fingering their weapons.

  That was when Morgan removed her helmet.

  The Norteno officer paled when he saw her, and he snapped rigidly to attention. "Mago Commandante, I … we … this is wonderful. We feared you dead."

  "I was on a secret mission for the president," she said, her face hard, her voice sharp with barely suppressed anger. "A mission you have now put in jeopardy." She spun about, glaring at the nearby Norteno soldiers. "Are you all stupid? Help with the refueling. Make yourselves useful!"

  "Apologies, Mago Commandante. I … I did not know," the officer stammered.

  The other soldiers rushed to help Casey, and soon, he had all the workers he needed.

  "Of course you didn't know," Morgan continued. "That's the entire point behind a secret mission. Now, we need to be in the air as soon as possible. Do you think you and your men could stay out of our way until then?"

  "Yes, yes, of course, Mago Commandante. Again, I am so—"

  Morgan stalked away to board the Shrike, her elven warriors piling in behind her.

  Tavi smiled sweetly at the officer. "That will be all for now, Captain Aguinaldo. I trust I can rely on your continuing discretion in tonight's activities."

  "Of course, Mago Diputado."

  The man practically bowed as Tavi strode away to board the aircraft. Angie followed, barely squeezing into the now-cramped cabin.

  "Gonna be a tad heavy," Casey yelled out, his face lit up with pleasure at being behind the instrument panel once more.

  Fifteen minutes later, their fuel tanks refilled, they were airborne and flying southwest toward the peninsula of Baja California, the desert rushing beneath them.

  Chapter 38

  The flight to the mountains at the southern tip of Baja California took just over three hours, and it was now just before midnight. Once again, Angie sat in the bucket seat behind Casey, with Rowan in the copilot's seat and Tavi sitting next to Angie in the other bucket seat. Casey was using the night-vision display on the helicopter's windshield, but there was nothing to see other than forested mountains. Angie held one of the aerial photos from Tec's database, and she turned it in her hands, matching it to the terrain below. They had been climbing over the mountains for some time now, and Angie nervously watched their altitude on the instruments.

  They were currently above five thousand feet, with the hardtop of the forested terrain less than two hundred feet below. She thought back to the flight over the Cuyamaca Mountains days ago, when she had been so worried about the engines but Casey had told her not to worry. He had been right. Now, the engines were indeed screaming. At this altitude, the air was thin, and the turbulence rattled the aircraft so hard Angi
e feared something would come loose—like maybe a rotor blade.

  Erin and Morgan slipped into the cramped cockpit as Casey announced, "One klick out. Bit of an eastern cross wind."

  "Low and sneaky sneaky," Rowan said, watching the terrain.

  Almost right away, the whine of the helicopter's turbines lessened as Casey brought the aircraft's altitude down so that they coasted just above the treetops. The turbines would be louder outside, Angie knew, especially at night, but the winds Casey had mentioned would muffle the sound. Casey and the Seagraves had mastered the art of stealthy direct actions years ago.

  Casey snorted in amusement, talking to himself. "Low and sneaky the man says. Teach your mamma how to suck eggs, army man."

  "Your mamma, too," Rowan answered.

  "Look for a giant fissure in the base of that ravine to our eleven o'clock." Angie pointed over Casey's shoulder. "It'll be a couple of hundred meters long."

  Casey nodded, keeping his attention on the mountainous terrain below them, filled with thick forests of oak and pine. "I see it," he said, slowing the aircraft to a crawl.

  "Me, too," Rowan said. "Go silent."

  "There," said Erin, leaning on Angie’s shoulder and pointing.

  Casey activated the stealth turbine, and the loud whine of the engines was replaced by a soft hum. The aircraft dropped, and Angie's stomach lurched into her throat, but Casey recovered from their descent, bringing the aircraft into a hover just above the treetops, the nose angled down. Now Angie saw the fissure as well, clearly defined in shades of green through the cockpit window and less than a half kilometer away.

  "Goddamn," she whispered. "That is big."

  It was as though the mountains had cracked apart, revealing an opening at the base of one ravine two hundred meters long and half as wide. The crack ran in a zigzag pattern along the base of the ravine, mountain slopes on either side filled with thick oak forests.

  "What are our thoughts on sentries?" Casey asked.