The Awakened World Boxed Set

by William Stacey

  Kilyn, his chest tight against Angie's back, leaned forward to yell into her ear. "You won't fall. Stonebeak won't let you."

  "Stonebeak is the bird?" she asked, amazed she could speak at all.

  "Roc, and yes."

  The other rocs soared in their V formation, the closest about a hundred feet away. She saw her friends, each gripping their own saddle horn with an elven rider behind them. Tec was on one of the other birds farther back, but she was too terrified to turn and look for him, certain she'd slip if she did. Is he even alive? Yes, somehow, she was certain she'd know if he were dead. Their dragon-marks tethered them.

  "I'm not used to this," she yelled, forcing her mind from Tec. "I'm not going to lie. I don't like it."

  "I know. I can feel your heart pound. Look to the left of the saddle horn. There are straps. Hand them to me."

  "I ... I can't let go," she stammered. She had been so terrified she hadn't noticed the straps before, even though their ends kept slapping her thighs.

  "You'll be fine. Just hand me the straps one at a time."

  She took long, deep breaths, then pried her left hand free of the saddle horn. Pain throbbed in her fingers, but she quickly clutched at one of the straps and thrust it behind her. The moment Kilyn took it, she grasped at the saddle horn once more. He passed the strap around her waist and back again, seemingly completely at ease, and then secured its end to the saddle with a click. "Now the other."

  This time it was slightly easier to let go of the horn, but she still desperately thrust the other strap behind her. Once more, he wrapped it around her waist and secured it to the saddle. Now two straps held her in place, and her panic began to subside. The wind whipped at her, and she was still hundreds of feet above the golden mountains of Baja California, but she no longer feared she'd fall off.

  Or at least, she didn’t fear it as much.

  Kilyn leaned forward, keeping his lips near her ear, his chest against her back. He wore armor of some type, she realized, feeling the hard ridges against her T-shirt. "That thing, that monstrous beast that looked like a bat," he asked. "What was that?"

  "I ... a demon."

  "Stars above and below! Mother always said they were real, but I never expected to see one."

  "Happens to me all the time."

  His laughter was sincere. "Well. We've left it far behind."

  She swallowed, praying he was right. It had named itself Sudden Bloodletter. And she remembered the name now. Tec had described it in Canyon City, the more powerful brother of Gouger of Faces.

  Kilyn kept talking to her as they flew, speaking with calm tones to put her at ease. The tightness began to lessen in her muscles, the pain lifting from her shoulders and back. She began to feel better, even risking quick glances over Stonebeak's neck at the ground far below.

  It was mostly barren scrubland and sparse yellow vegetation, much like Canyon City and the southern part of the Commonwealth of Cascadia, what had once been southern California. The Pacific Ocean was on their left. She had no idea how fast they were flying, but the land sped past beneath them, and the wind whipped her hair about. They flew over small settlements and once saw an Aztalan walled town, but Kilyn banked Stonebeak and the other rocs away, well beyond the range of even a heavy machine gun. Then they saw the signs of military mobilization and Aztalan outposts. Once they saw a long line of men on horseback, Aztalan soldiers riding north. The horizon was black with smoke. Soon, they overflew burned settlements with thick plumes of smoke rising from the charred ruins.

  "The war is not going well for your people."

  "Not my people. Nortenos. I'm from the Commonwealth."

  "I'm not sure it matters," he answered in a voice laced with sorrow. "Your kind can only kill one another."

  There seemed little point in arguing. Even without the Tzitzime and their dragon masters, humans needed no excuse to fight one another. As the Home Guard intelligence officer, she had been involved in planning numerous small-scale operations to secure resources that didn't really belong to the Commonwealth. At the time, she hadn't cared, had felt no shame in taking the resources. There was little point in pretending outrage now.

  What did that say about her?

  Kilyn guided Stonebeak toward an open clearing with a stream that was surrounded by woods. The other rocs followed, and in moments, all landed in the clearing. Relief surged through Angie, especially when Kilyn unstrapped her and helped her climb down and set her boots on hard ground once more. She swayed in place for a second, and the elf held her elbow, a smile on his angular features. When she nodded, showing she was okay, he let go of her elbow and handed her a leather water gourd.

  "See to the Jaguar Knight. We can only rest a short while. My mother expects us."

  That was the first time she realized that the elf had recognized Tec, but she shouldn’t have been surprised. Tec had been well known to Kilyn’s mother the queen because of his long service to the winged serpent Quetzalcoatl.

  Angie ran to the roc on which Tec was strapped. Rowan and Casey joined her, and they lifted Tec down, laying him on the ground. His chest rose and fell, but blood coated his dark hair, plastering it to his scalp. More blood glistened on his naked body, and she saw long cuts and gashes that still oozed. How much blood has he lost? Rowan ran his fingers over Tec's frame, prodding the injuries. Tec groaned but remained unconscious. Rowan sat back, his hands on his knees.

  "Well?" demanded Angie. She winced internally at the sharpness in her tone but couldn't help herself.

  One of the elven riders brought a leather sack containing bandages and other medical supplies, including human medicine—antibiotics and even ampules of morphine. Most people who didn't know any better assumed all Fey scorned technology, but the truth was that most, including the elves, were far more practical. The Fey didn't much like humanity, especially the elves, but they did appreciate many of humanity’s inventions. Char had loved indoor plumbing and pre-Awakening music, especially hip-hop.

  "He was lucky, I'd say," answered Rowan. "Some broken ribs and a nasty puncture here. Must have been a claw." He pointed to an oozing hole in Tec's left side between the ribs big enough for her to shove her thumb into. "But nothing that'll kill him ... I think. There might be internal bleeding, maybe some head injuries I can't see."

  "You don't know?"

  Erin joined them, followed by Tavi. Erin placed her hand atop Angie's shoulder. She still wore only her T-shirt, a load-bearing vest, and underwear but seemed completely at ease. "Rowan knows injuries, Angie. He'll be fine."

  Calm down, she told herself. He's a friend, not your husband. Get a grip. But she couldn't. Nor would he ever be just a friend. She stared at the dragon-mark on her left palm and then made a fist.

  "We'll know soon enough," Rowan said as he began to pack gauze into Tec's wounds, literally ramming the material into the holes, especially the large one near his ribs. Erin took one of the ampules of morphine, injecting it into Tec's hip as Rowan worked.

  Angie only relaxed when she saw Tec breathing more easily, the morphine working through his blood. They wrapped him in a blanket and let him sleep.

  Tavi handed her a hunk of bread and an apple. "You need to eat," she said.

  She saw the others were eating now as well, and the elves moved among them, sharing more food. The horses, the weapons, all the supplies they had taken from the Aztalans had been left behind. She still wore Nightfall, thank God, but otherwise she was unarmed. She bit into the apple, the sharp tang delicious, and then wolfed down the piece of elven bread, finding it surprisingly filling. She joined the others, who were now seated together and talking quietly as they ate.

  Jay was speaking softly to Tavi, his hand on her knee. The young woman shook her head, her face pale, and Jay seemed unhappy. They were in her people's territory now, Angie knew. Those burned settlements had been her settlements, her people. That must have been messing with her. Angie would have felt the same way if they had been Commonwealth farms.

  The c
onversation died down. The others were lost in their own thoughts, and she kept looking to Tec.

  All too soon, Kilyn joined them again. "We need to fly. We're exposed here."

  They rose and helped secure Tec to his roc, strapping him facedown again, but padding him as well as they could, with the blanket still wrapped around him. Then Angie let Kilyn lead her back to Stonebeak. Once again, the intelligent bird lowered his neck for her, folding his wings against his frame. Kilyn cupped his hands for her foot and lifted her up into the saddle. Once she was settled again, he wrapped the straps about her, securing her in place before seating himself behind her. The bird turned his golden head and regarded her with clever eyes, then extended his wings to either side and shivered in anticipation of flight. A moment later, they were airborne again, Stonebeak's wings buffeting the ground as they surged up. This time, Angie's fear was lessened. She’d never like this, but it was becoming easier.

  The others followed, and they flew north.

  Two hours later, near midday, they flew over the ruins of Tijuana. This time she saw a vast armed camp on the northern side of the ruins with countless tents and campfires. Kilyn banked Stonebeak out over the water, keeping far from the camp. "Aztalan army," he yelled. "May their food rot and their water turn foul."

  She didn't say anything, but it was obvious the Aztalans were mobilizing to come north—straight for the Coronado Fey Enclave. She remembered the map they had captured that showed the invasion plans.

  The rocs dropped in altitude as they glided over the white-tipped waves of the Pacific Ocean. The smell of fresh air and saltwater was intoxicating. The sun sparkled on the waters, and when she saw the dark shape of a whale beneath the depths, her breath caught in her throat. Then she saw the coastline of San Diego on their right, and just ahead of them, the heavily forested Coronado Island and the isthmus that connected it to the mainland.

  "Silver Strand," Kilyn yelled out. "We kept your human name."

  They soared over the long, narrow isthmus and approached the island. She saw military fortifications, sandbagged trenches cut into the narrow strand, and armed elves moving about, their spear points sparkling in the sunlight.

  "Phoenix Guard warriors," Kilyn declared. "When the Aztalans come, they will find us ready—to their doom."

  Angie kept her mouth shut, but her doubt weighed heavily. There were probably hundreds of elven warriors down there, maybe thousands, but that wouldn't be nearly enough. Besides, spears were all well and good up close but useless against firearms, and the Aztalans were very well armed. Elenaril is no fool. She must know that.

  Then they flew over the thick forests of Coronado Island, following the western shoreline to the queen's palace, the old luxury hotel she had converted into her palace. Its red-domed, castle-like spires gleamed in the bright sunlight. The elves had reworked it, building new stone portions and growing gardens all about it. Thick vines snaked around the towers. It looked like a fantasy dream.

  Kilyn guided Stonebeak and the other rocs toward the sand. The moment they landed, elven handlers surged forward, taking care of the rocs and leading them to a walled-in pen.

  Waiting nearby was a small group of Phoenix Guard warriors wearing black-and-red Starsheen cuirasses. Before the warriors stood another elf in brightly burnished silver plate armor: Queen Elenaril Cloudborn herself.

  They had made it.

  Chapter 10

  Angie, Tavi, and the Seagraves stood before Queen Elenaril. The queen's children, Wyn Renna and Kilyn Star-Sword, stood silently behind their mother, their faces expressionless. Angie would never understand elves. She had watched the queen's reunion with Wyn Renna. After more than a decade away from home, years spent masquerading as a human, the queen’s daughter was finally home. Yet the queen had barely welcomed her, giving her little more than a nod of her head, and Wyn Renna had behaved just as coolly. Even now, she looked out of place, a tall, thin human with pale skin and short blond hair among elves. When Wyn Renna had been captured by the Tzitzime, the queen had sent both the real Constance Morgan and an elite force of Phoenix Guard warriors to rescue her, yet now, when they were finally together again, she barely acknowledged her presence.

  Elves could teach stones to be stoic.

  Angie bowed, her hand on Nightfall's hilt. The others bowed as well, even Casey, although his bow was little more than an ungainly head bob. "We thank you for your welcome, Queen Elenaril Cloudborn," Angie said in passable Elvish.

  The queen’s long black hair was tightly bound and pinned atop her elongated, egg-like head, exposing her long, pointed ears. Her almond-shaped golden eyes regarded Angie without a hint of emotion. Taller than most elves, Elenaril looked appropriately fearsome in her plate armor, each piece perfectly constructed to fit her frame. She wore a long sword on her hip, which Angie had no doubt she could use. Elves were gifted warriors. The last time Angie had seen the queen, she had worn priceless gems on her fingers and toes. Now she wore only armor and sword, yet she was still every inch the queen.

  Elenaril answered in English. "I welcome you, daughter of Chararah Succubus. I welcome your friends, the noble Seagrave warriors. And I welcome our former pupil, Octavia Navarro. I offer you food and drink."

  A trio of fairies stepped forward, each carrying trays of food and drink. Usually, fairies wore little if any clothing, but these wore long shirts of burnished scaled armor, with daggers on their hips. To see fairies girded for war was jarring. And it wasn't just the fairies. All the other Fey moved about wearing armor or carrying weapons.

  Angie and the others accepted the food and drink, sipping the strong wine and tasting the bread, formalizing Elenaril's ritual welcome. The queen cleared her throat, the pleasantries over.

  Elves carried Tec away on a litter, and Angie’s gaze followed him until Elenaril spoke again. "Thank you for the gift of my daughter. I know it cost you dearly." Elenaril followed Angie’s gaze as her elves carried Tec into her palace. "We mourn the loss of the feathered serpent Quetzalcoatl and weep for this world with him gone from it." When her golden eyes regarded Angie once more, Angie thought this time, maybe, she saw a hint of kindness in them. "But rest easy. We shall attend well the Jaguar Knight."

  "I'd like to stay with him," Angie blurted, realizing how foolish she sounded the moment the words slipped out, but she couldn't help it. The thought of not staying by his side made her anxiety soar. "At least until he wakes."

  "That will, of course, not be a problem," the queen said coolly.

  "Angie," said Erin softly. "We can't stay here, not even a day."

  Angie looked to her friend in confusion. "Why not?"

  Rowan stepped forward. "My sister is right. We can't stay. It's already past midday."

  "Of course," Elenaril said. "The full moon is tonight."

  "And for the next three nights," Rowan answered. "It won't be safe for your people."

  "My son will fly you anywhere you wish to go." She glanced at Kilyn. "The rocs are not too tired?"

  "No, Mother, but there's a limit as to how far they can go before..." Kilyn glanced at Rowan. "Before dark."

  "Not far," Rowan said. "East, preferably. Mount Laguna, if possible. If not, then any wilderness. Anywhere there's no people."

  "You have to go right now?" Angie asked. "We only just got here."

  "I'm sorry, Angie," Erin said. "We told you we needed to get away before the full moon. We're not ... we have no control."

  "It's okay. I get it. It's just ... a bit overwhelming, especially after everything that's happened."

  "It's just three days," Erin said. "Come with us. You can barricade yourself in the bunker and wait for us. You'll be safe enough."

  "I..." Her gaze darted about, and she realized they were all watching her. "I can't," she said meekly. "I can't leave him."

  "You are welcome to stay with us." Elenaril's large eyes drifted from the Seagraves to Angie.

  Angie saw the unhappiness on Erin's face, but before the other woman could object, Tavi steppe
d forward. "Your Majesty, my people. What do you know?"

  Queen Elenaril sighed, placing her palm against Tavi's cheek. "I'm so sorry, Octavia. The Aztalans have broken your army. Those that have survived are in retreat, rushing north with the other refugees to seek sanctuary in Sanwa City among the Commonwealth."

  Tavi’s face drained of blood. The situation was dire indeed if the Nortenos were running to their former adversaries for help. "All of them?" Tavi asked in disbelief. "The Eastern Garrison as well?"

  "All of them," Elenaril answered. "Your military had pulled back from the border outposts to defend the smaller communities from the chupacabras’ attacks. By the time they realized what was happening, it was too late to make a stand against the invading Aztalan forces."

  "God damn General Gálvez," Tavi blurted. "This is all his fault."

  "I fear it would have made little difference even if your army had been waiting for them," said Elenaril. "The Aztalans have been planning this war for years."

  "Not just the Aztalans," said Angie. "The Tzitzime and the dragon Itzpapalotl are behind this."

  "My scouts report that the remains of the Norteno military seek to ally themselves with First Councilor Duncan Marshal's Home Guard in Sanwa City, but the refugees are stressing the city's resources. Marshal struggles to avoid bloodshed while readying his own people in case the Aztalans press their attack north—as they will almost certainly do. There are many within Sanwa City who urge Marshal to send the refugees back."

  "He'd never do that," insisted Angie. "The Aztalans would kill those people. Marshal must know this."

  "He suspects, I imagine, but others poison his ears, spreading their own hopes as truth."

  "You need to worry about your own people," said Rowan. "The Aztalans are mobilizing for you next, not the Commonwealth." He reached into his load-bearing vest and pulled out the map he had taken from the Aztalan fort. It was folded multiple times and battered and worn but intact. He opened it and handed it to the queen, but Prince Kilyn stepped forward and took it for her.