Teja looked over at him, a vulnerable expression on her face.
She was standing with her back against the wall, her eyes flickering between her bickering relatives. Sullivan wasn’t sure how old she was here, but clearly she was young and feeling lost. She wore a gray dress that seemed to be some kind of mourning outfit, her hair pulled back in an austere braid. She looked beautiful and fragile and like she’d rather be anywhere else in the universe than in the middle of this fight.
Sullivan moved to stand next to her. He still didn’t know what was going on, but he was fairly sure now that he wasn’t crazy. He was reliving scenes from Teja’s life. Everything around him was a virtual-reality replay of her past. He was observing it like a ghost, unable to touch anything or talk to the participants. It kind of freaked him out. Either Sullivan was having one hell of a bizarre dream or he was seeing into Teja’s memories. His money was on the second option.
All of this had actually happened to her and he was somehow tapping into it.
Eian rolled his eyes. “Sentiment is all well and good, Oberon, but it doesn’t trump the facts. Teja needs to be with her real family.”
“We’re her fucking family.” Djinn snapped. He was sitting on the arm of the Fire House’s obsidian throne, twirling a knife in his hand with agitated flicks. “We’re the ones who love her. You just want to use her, because you’re a bunch of ice-cold, power hungry bastards. Right, Pey?”
“Yep.” Pele nodded, her dark gaze fixed on Eian, like she was a bird of prey and he was a rat.
“Ya see?” Djinn waved a hand at his Match. He always took Pele’s vote as the deciding factor in any argument. Which was convenient, since she always seemed to agree with him.
“That’s not true.” Freya protested. Unlike her arctic brother, the little blonde doctor was a bundle of kinetic energy. Words poured out on top of each other. “Teja’s as much one of us, as she is one of you. She can control the power from both Houses. That means she’s part of both of us.” Freya stood next to Eian, making expansive gestures as she spoke. “There’s no reason we can’t set aside our past differences and reach some kind of understanding. Maybe Teja can be a bridge between our Houses.”
Eian and Djinn both scoffed at that idea.
“There’s only one understanding we can reach.” Oberon told her flatly. “And that’s for you to understand that Teja’s a Fire Phase.”
“We’ll take this to the Council.” Eian threatened. “We’ll have them decided.”
“The Council can rule whatever the hell they want.” Oberon retorted. “But, they’ll have to send an army to take Teja from me and the whole stodgy lot of them knows it. In case you missed the rumors, I’m fucking crazy, boy.” He arched a brow. “You can’t reason with crazy.”
Sullivan snorted. That old man was crazy like a fox.
“You think Job wants thousands of Phases dead on the ground?” Oberon continued. “‘Cause that’s what it’ll cost to steal my granddaughter. I will fight until the last Phase falls. Until every kingdom is dragged into the slaughter and every House is empty. The killing will stretch and on and on and on. I’m betting the Council would rather just see things my way and not piss me off.”
Djinn smirked.
Eian’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “You think I’m scared of you? If you want war, we’ll have a war, Oberon. I’ll see your land turned into a frozen wasteland.”
Teja bit her lower lip, her eyes on Oberon. “Grandfather, I don’t want war.” She said quietly.
“Neither do I, Tej!” Oberon lifted his arms as if he couldn’t understand why everyone was picking on him. “I’m a peaceable man, who just wants to be left alone. Talk to him.” He gestured towards Eian. “He’s the one who won’t back off.”
Eian focused on Teja. “You know that the Fire House are nothing but gangsters. I can’t believe you would even consider staying here. It’s a disgrace to your father’s memory.”
Teja shook her head, not responding to that.
“Let her decide, Eian.” Freya moved forward, so she was between Oberon and her brother. “We both have claims to Teja. We could go to the Council or battle it out with swords, but there’s a much more logical way. Teja’s old enough to know what she wants. Let her choose where she wants to live. We’ll all abide by her decision.”
Teja’s head whipped around to look at Freya. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, we’ll agree beforehand that whoever you choose is your choice. No war, no more legal maneuvering, no more arguing. We just end it all now.”
Oberon’s bush eyebrows compressed. “Let Teja pick?”
“Yes. She’s the one this will impact most, so…”
“I think that’s a marvelous idea.” Eian interjected, cutting off his sister. “Teja would you rather languish here in this military camp of horrors,” he paused for effect, “or be safely ensconced in the Cold Palace, where you will receive a world-class education and all the luxuries that someone of your station deserved?”
Djinn got to his feet, looking as concerned as Oberon about this idea. “We’re not agreeing to this shit. Teja’s ours. You think we’ll just hand her over and hope you assholes take care of her?”
Oberon’s eyes stayed on Teja. “No.” He said softly. “They’re right, D. We’ll let her decide. Fire Phases can’t be caged. They have to discover for themselves where they belong.”
Teja looked between the Fire and Cold Houses. She’d grown-up with her parents in faraway realms, so she didn’t have a lot of experience with either set of relatives. She didn’t completely fit into to either House.
It was a coin flip. …And one side was a scorched, jagged, blood-covered mess.
The smart money was on Teja picking the refined and law-abiding side of her family, rather than the Elemental Corleones. But, the Fire House sucked you into their cyclone of crazy and made you part of the storm. It was hard to resist that sense of inclusion when you were alone in the world. Only someone else who’d never belonged anywhere would understand.
Sullivan’s mouth curved.
“Honestly, I don’t think it’s a hard decision.” Eian continued arrogantly. “Gaia, I wouldn’t even want someone stupid enough to join the Fire Phases.”
Freya gave his arm an irritated whack.
Teja’s head tilted to one side, her gaze meeting Oberon’s.
He stared back at her. “This is your home.” He said in an uncharacteristically serious voice. “Nothing can change that. Even if you go with them, you will always have a place here. You’ll always be welcome. You’ll always be a Fire Phase. This is where you belong.”
Teja slowly smiled at him.
Eian’s eyes narrowed, seeing her choose before she uttered the words. “No!” He thundered, his expression darkening. “No! You can’t possibly be this foolish.”
Freya’s face fell in dismay.
Teja kept her attention on Oberon. “I want my own room.” She cast a pointed look around the Fire Fortress’ sideshow-in-Alcatraz interior design. “Without skulls on the walls.”
Oberon blinked. “You want to stay here with me?” He clarified, like he hadn’t expected it to be so easy. “Um… okay.” He quickly tried not to blow it. “Sure. We can redecorate your room. Absolutely. Pick any one you want.”
“Except mine.” Djinn put in with a perfectly straight face. “‘Cause that one’s mine.”
Teja glanced over at him, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. Sullivan knew that feeling well.
Eian wasn’t going down without a fight. “This is unacceptable.” He stalked forward to seize hold of Teja’s arm, jerking her around to face him. “This is your poor breeding at work. If you can’t make a reasonable decision, I’ll just have to make it for you. You’re coming with me and there’s nothing anybody…”
Four things happened at once. One: Sullivan’s vision filmed over in red as the Cold Phase grabbed her. Two: Oberon let out a roar of outrage that shook the rafters. Three: T
eja jerked away, as Eian tried to jump her out of the Fire Kingdom.
And Four: Djinn attacked.
His fist slammed into Eian’s aristocratic face, knocking the other man right off his feet. “You son-of-a-bitch.”
“Djinn, don’t!” Teja shouted.
He ignored that.
Big surprise.
“The next time you touch my cousin, they won’t find your goddamn body!” He roared. Before Eian could even stop rolling from the first punch, Djinn reached down to grasp the front of his shirt. He hauled Eian up and threw him into the wall.
Actually through the wall.
Sullivan’s eyebrows soared as Eian impacted the plaster about ten feet up, leaving a crater straight down to the stone exterior. That hole was still there, back in reality. Hope had hung a festive wreath made of broken Darth Vader toys around it. It was the only Christmas decoration Sullivan approved of. Now, he liked it even more.
“Great distance on the throw, Djinn.” He remarked with an impressed nod.
If he could’ve heard Sullivan, the Fire King no doubt would have agreed. The guy was the Picasso of violence. Pure artistry mixed with creative flourishes. Djinn stalked towards Eian as the other man staggered to his feet. “Fun fact.” He casually selected a mace from a decorative rack as he passed. “Did you know a Phase can sustain six hits with one these babies before they die? Crazy, I know. But, that’s fucking math.”
“Five.” Oberon corrected, as if this was an ongoing area of scientific debate. “I keep telling you, ya gotta look at the average, Djinn.”
“I did and it’s six. Here. I’ll prove it to ya.”
Eian gave a squeak of alarm as Djinn reached for him.
“No!” Freya cried, moving to help her brother before his brain was liquefied.
“Isn’t D hot?” Pele asked the room at large. “I think he’s so damn hot.”
“Stop it!” Teja got between her cousins, pushing them apart. “I mean it. Just stop.” She glanced at Djinn. “We said I’d choose and that we wouldn’t fight.”
Djinn snorted. “Did I agree to that? I don’t remember agreeing to that.”
Teja’s eyes narrowed at him.
“Oh fine.” Djinn stepped back with a pout, tossing the mace to the floor. “But he started it.” He headed back over to sit on the arm of the throne like nothing had happened.
“Thank you.” Sullivan told him sincerely. Djinn might be a sociopath but he was a sociopath committed to protecting Teja. That was good enough for Sullivan.
Eian swiped at his broken nose. “This is the House you choose over mine, Teja?” He jabbed a wrathful finger at her. “If you go with them, the Cold House will wash its hands of you forever. We’ll disown you and cast you out of our family. I swear it.”
Freya’s lips parted. “Wait…”
“Do what you want, you jackass.” Teja scowled back at him. “I’m not going with you. I’ll never go with you.” She stepped back, closer to Oberon and Djinn. “I’m a Fire Phase.”
Scenes shifted and time passed. Sullivan saw Teja living in the Fire House. Refereeing video game championships between Djinn and Satour… Having tea parties with a much younger Hope… Laughing with Oberon… Helping Alder practice his sword fighting skills… Arguing with Pele about which TV shows to watch… Shouting at Oberon… Trying to reattach the heads of Missy’s decapitated dolls… Playing chess with Qadesh… Laughing while she shouted at Oberon…
Always with her family. Always loved.
Then came the Fall.
Sullivan looked around the courtyard of the Fire Fortress and saw nothing but death. The plague that Teja had told him about was a waking nightmare. The stench of burning bodies. High-pitched wails of grief. Sunken faces with lost expressions. Stacks of bodies being fed into massive bonfires. Hopelessness and despair.
Death.
Even in war he’d seen nothing like this horror.
His eyes went to the arched, Gothic door of the palace. Hope was hanging a picture of Oberon on it, surrounded by bouquets of blood-red flowers. There was only one possible thing that could mean: Teja’s beloved grandfather was dead. The one person she counted on most had left her alone in this hell.
Oh no.
“Teja?” Sullivan looked around trying to spot her in the chaos. His instincts were going haywire, screaming at him that she was in danger. Even if he found her, he didn’t know how he planned to protect her. It seemed like he was invisible in this place. No one could hear him and he couldn’t interact. But, he knew he had to be with her.
Sullivan moved through the crowd, spotting Djinn and Pele. They were covered in black soot and mechanically piling corpses for cremation. The fact that they were so damn silent had the hair on the back of Sullivan’s neck standing up. Fire Phases were never silent. It was like they’d just turned themselves off, so they could endure.
He kept looking for Teja, spotting Alder wearily using his powers to build yet another funeral pyre. Satour gathered wood for the blaze, tears cutting through the dirt on his cheeks. Missy was huddled against the side of the building her hands covering her face, as if she just couldn’t watch anymore. Qadesh moved restlessly between his relatives, like he was trying to protect them from something he knew he couldn’t stop.
Sullivan was having trouble breathing. This memory, or whatever the fuck it was, was too terrible for anyone to survive. No one could come through this and not…
He suddenly spotted Zakkery, of the Smoke House in the crowd. The guy was clearly trying to stay out of sight, but he looked like the member of a boy band and dressed like a refugee from an 80s music video, so he stuck out like a really tacky sore thumb. What was he doing there?
Sullivan started for him.
Zakkery had some kind of paper in his hand. He frowned down at it, like he was willing it to make sense. Curious, Sullivan peered over the guy’s shoulder, so he could read it, too. One sentence jumped out at him like neon, so horrible that he couldn’t even process the rest of the note.
Stop Teja from killing herself.
No, no, no, no, no.
Sullivan began to panic. “Teja!” He bellowed, his head whipping around frantically. “Fuck!” He turned back to Zakkery. If he could have touched anything, he would’ve grabbed Zakkery by his Sid Viscous t-shirt. “Why are you just standing there? Find her, you moron!”
Zakkery sighed in frustration and looked around the courtyard as if he had no idea where to begin searching. His eyes flicked over the other Fire Phases, lingering on Missy’s dark head. She and Teja had the same color hair. He looked briefly confused, taking a step towards her.
“That’s not Teja.” Sullivan snapped, when Zakkery kept moving forward. “Concentrate! We have to…” For no reason at all, he looked up and his lungs stopped working. “Teja!”
She was standing on the edge of the roof, staring sightlessly down at courtyard. Even from the distance separating them, Sullivan could tell she was in shock. Her eyes were unfocused and glassy; her features far too pale and calm. She’d seen too much.
She was breaking.
“No, no, no, no, no…” Without even realizing it, he chanted the word out loud. “Teja, don’t.” He took a step forward, all his attention glued on her. “You can’t do this. You can’t leave your family alone! Think of them.”
She paused, almost as if she heard him.
Sullivan kept shouting, his instincts all blaring at him to help her. “Goddamn it, step back! It’s not your time. You have too much life to just give up. That’s not you. You’re a Fire Phase. You fucking fight.”
Her head tilted to one side, like she was listening. Like she was reconsidering this terrible plan.
Sullivan stared up at her, his heart pounding out of his chest. “Teja,” he whispered, switching to begging, “please don’t do this. Please don’t leave me here alone.”
Teja slowly pulled away from the ledge. At the last possible second, she changed her mind about jumping. Sullivan exhaled shakily as he saw her fight
against the darkness. She shook her head and stepped back.
His vision waivered in relief and he had to brace his hands on his legs to stay upright. She wanted to live. She wanted to stay with him.
…Only something went wrong.
Tiles slid free of the roof, crashing to the cobblestones below. Teja lost her balance. She grabbed for the crouching gargoyle beside her and missed. Sullivan watched her tumble downward and couldn’t even roar out a denial. He didn’t have the oxygen.
Oh God…
“FUCK!” Djinn bellowed, seeing Teja fall. His hands automatically went up, like he was trying to catch her.
“Goddamn it!” Zakkery shouted at the same time.
Clouds of dense smoke appeared around Teja, trying to shield her. It had to be Zakkery’s energy at work. Sullivan didn’t know what the Smoke Phase’s powers did exactly, but the clouds were more than ordinary mist. They seemed thick enough to slow her descent, at least somewhat. It wasn’t going to be enough, though. Teja was going to hit the pavement and nothing could save her.
Sullivan heard his heart beating in his ears, as everything slipped into slow motion.
Qadesh’s eyes went wide in horror.
“Nooooo!” Hope screamed, dropping to her knees.
Satour and Pele froze.
Missy stared uncomprehendingly at the scene, like it was just too much for her to process.
Alder cringed, turning away rather than watch the inevitable impact.
Sullivan didn’t think about what happened next. It was pure instinct. He saw that Teja was about to die and everything inside of him refused to let it happen. A great swell of energy moved through him. A charge that burned through his system. It felt huge and powerful and right. It came from deep inside of him and poured out like a wave, taking everything he had. More than he had. He threw every bit of his strength into protecting Teja, because, without her, he would be nothing anyway.
Teja plummeted towards the cobblestones… but she never hit the ground.
Sullivan stopped her.
Sort of.
Rather than smash against the unforgiving rocks, Teja landed in a ten foot pile of moss that appeared out of nowhere. It materialized directly below her, cushioning her fall. She slammed into the center of it, unhurt and still three-dimensional. Her head popped up and she looked around in confusion.
Magic of the Wood House Page 17
