Queen of the Immortals

by T. R. Hamby

  Mel reached into the inside pocket of his coat. “Let’s make a deal, Barrett,” he said, extracting a neatly folded wad of cash. “How much is your rent?”

  Barrett looked flabbergasted, and stuttered for a moment. “Six hundred.”

  “Six hundred,” Mel said, counting out the bills. “Right. I will pay you six hundred pounds a month for your information. Anything you have from the streets--talk, rumors, gossip.”

  “Gossip?”

  “We’re looking for something….big,” Nora explained. “Some really bad crime. Really fucked up, probably.”

  Barrett raised an eyebrow. “And you think I’ll hear about it?”

  “You must know some people,” Mel said.

  “I’m not having a cuppa with any kingpins or nothing,” Barrett replied, shrugging.

  “It’s better than nothing. All you have to do is listen. It’s your month’s rent, one less thing you have to worry about. Do you have anything to lose?”

  He hesitated, looking between the two of them. Mel had to hand it to him; he was smart, cautious. Maybe not the best pickpocket, but still useful.

  He finally nodded, and took the cash.

  “Here, I’ll give you my number,” Nora said, taking out her phone. “But don’t send me any pics,” she added warningly.

  “Chist, woman,” Barrett muttered under his breath. “I swear I wasn’t groping you.”

  Then he looked at Mel. “What was that you did to me?”

  Mel shrugged. “I have superpowers. Goodnight, Barrett.”

  Barrett didn’t seem to want to stick around. He quickly walked off, and Mel and Nora went the opposite way.

  Mel was exasperated. “What did I tell you about running back to the enemy?” he said sternly, slipping his good arm around her waist.

  She snorted. “Did he really look like he was going to do anything to me?”

  “Nonetheless,” Mel said, getting another idea, “we should probably start fighting lessons again. Your loft would be a good space.”

  “I agree. But first,” and she looked at him firmly, “your sisters.”

  They agreed on noon the next day. That would fall in the morning back Home. Michael would Travel there and take their sisters downward, to a Place they hadn’t visited in the longest time.

  Mel was excited, almost manic, bouncing on the balls of his feet and grinning. He checked the clock constantly, and each minute seemed to tick by slower than the last.

  Nora was amused, and kept him occupied learning sign language with Gilla. Michael was sitting out this time, sitting on a nearby couch and poring over a thick book.

  When noon came Mel was almost nauseous with excitement. They went to the living room and waited. There was no fanfare, no drama--Michael reappeared, and there was Judith and Agatha at his side.

  The two charged him, and Mel wrapped his arms around them. They sank to the floor, laughing and murmuring and weeping. The women looked Mel over, dazzled by his clothes. They touched his face, his hands, as if making sure it was really him. He looked at them too--Judith’s dark skin and long braids, Agatha’s short hair and little body.

  They fell into their old way of speaking to each other, almost instanty. Judith was worried, looking him over, examining his arm, being her maternal self. Mel brushed at her cheek, trying to soothe her worries, and she beamed. Agatha had her head on his shoulder, clinging to his good arm. Mel murmured to her, old jokes they used to tell each other, and she threw her head back and laughed.

  200,000 years. For 200,000 years he hadn’t seen them, his beloved sisters. Judith, who had soothed him when he was brooding, and held him when he was feeling low. And Agatha, who had made his clothes, who had laughed with him, had wrestled with him outside. So many years without that.

  And now they were here.

  They eventually got to their feet. Judith and Agatha clung to Mel, touching his arm, his waist. He kept close to them too, holding their hands.

  But he turned toward Gilla and Nora, who were watching almost cautiously. He held out a hand, and Nora slowly approached. Nora took Mel’s hand, and he grinned at her, joyful.

  “Judith, Agatha,” he said, “this is Nora. My love.”

  Nora flushed, and Judith and Agatha took her in. Agatha, Mel noticed, was wary, her little jaw working, and her face flushed. She took a slight step back, and Mel frowned at her, tugging at her hand. She shot him a warning look, and he desisted. He remembered her warning looks very well.

  Judith, however, smiled tenderly, and reached out and took Nora’s other hand. “You are beautiful,” she said, squeezing her hand. “Mel has written so many wonderful things about you.”

  Nora flushed, and laughed nervously. “He is too sweet.”

  Then she continued, “You are beautiful, too. Your hair is….stunning. Where do you get those beads Up There?”

  Judith reached up and brushed at the beads in her hair. “They’re stones from the Northern Mountains,” she explained calmly. “Not quite jewels, but still fairly close.”

  Nora seemed enchanted, and Mel was relieved to see her nervousness dissipate.

  Michael was still on the couch, watching tensely. Gilla went to him, signed Should we talk to them?

  He seemed torn, and shrugged hesitantly.

  Mel watched them for a moment, before taking a deep breath. He approached them and held out a hand.

  “May I?” he asked, and Gilla went pink.

  She smiled shyly, took his hand and stood. He could feel Michael staring at him, but ignored it.

  He led her to the group of women. Judith was asking Nora questions about life on Earth, and Agatha was studying her blouse, fascinated with the stitching.

  Then Mel and Gilla approached, and they fell silent. Nora instantly smiled, of course, and took Gilla’s free hand and stood beside her.

  “This is Gilla,” Mel said quietly.

  Judith and Agatha studied her. Judith was naturally pleased, smiling tenderly--almost sadly--and immediately slipped gentle arms around her in an embrace. Gilla was only taken aback for a moment before returning the gesture, rosy-cheeked and smiling.

  Agatha was silent, and pale. She didn’t move, but watched Gilla with almost cold disbelief.

  Mel drew to her. “Don’t be shy,” he whispered, trying to lighten her mood.

  But she was unimpressed. “Forgive me if I don’t bow down to Michael’s mate,” she breathed, and she almost spat his name.

  Mel took a deep breath. Dealing with Agatha when she was angry required tact.

  “She’s an innocent,” he said.

  “Innocent, or stupid?” she shot back. “It would be better if she was stupid, but I’m sure she’s not. She knows what he did?”

  “Agatha, please. You’re here. We haven’t seen each other in so long,” he pleaded quietly.

  Her jaw worked, and she glowered at the floor.

  He stared at her. He had known she was livid with Michael, refusing to speak to him. But seeing it in person was….different. It was painful--something he cared not to admit.

  “We have to discuss something,” he said, and she looked at him. “My arm….”

  She nodded, running a gentle hand down it.

  “Well….we’re hoping--if everything goes according to plan--that a surgeon can fix it.”

  Agatha nodded again; apparently Michael had briefed the two sisters before taking them down to Earth.

  “But we need you,” Mel continued, and she immediately went pale. “I need you to put me to sleep.”

  “Mel,” she breathed, horrified, “I’ve never….I’ve never done that before.”

  “Consider it a test run.”

  “It’s not funny,” she insisted, her eyes sparkling angrily. “What if I kill you?”

  “You won’t. I know you can do it.”

  “We haven’t seen each other in millenia and you think you know me enough to use my Talent on you?”

  “You haven’t changed, have you?” Mel said softly. “You’re still
my sister, Agatha. Please. Let’s just try.”

  For a long moment she looked mutinous. She gazed ahead, clearly thinking. Michael stood, and she caught his eye. She immediately looked away, red patches appearing on her cheeks.

  When she finally agreed, they went up to Nora’s loft. Agatha was a mess, shivering and biting her lip, keeping her hands--where the power emanated--hidden deep in her pockets. Judith was beside her, whispering soothingly, but she didn’t seem to hear.

  “Agatha, it’ll be fine,” Mel said, kicking off his shoes and getting onto Nora’s bed. “I trust you. You can do it.”

  “I’ll kill you,” she moaned.

  “No you won’t,” Mel replied firmly. “I’m much stronger than humans, remember? You can’t kill me.”

  She stared at the floor, her short hair scraping her chin.

  “I killed a human,” she whispered icily. “I’ve killed many for Father.”

  The room grew cold. Mel felt his insides sicken, and Lilith, her body burning on a pyre, flashed through his mind. The burning flesh, the melting skin….

  He shook himself. Everyone was staring between him and Agatha.

  He took a deep breath, shaken by that horrible image.

  He tried to rally. “Please, Agatha. It needs to be done.”

  He saw Michael out of the corner of his eye, leaning against the wall and holding his head in his hand.

  Mel felt a pang--but also anger. So now he was upset. Now he cared. Fucking hypocrite.

  He couldn’t quite remember what happened after that. At first they were all talking, and then he was lying on the bed, very dizzy and very exhausted. His whole body was almost numb, and his heart was very slow.

  Nora was beside him, brushing at his hair. “There you are,” she said soothingly.

  She looked over her shoulder. “He’s fine,” she said.

  Mel blinked and shifted. “Agatha….”

  “Yes,” Nora replied, straightening the pillow behind him. “You were asleep for five minutes.”

  “Not a bad start,” Mel mumbled, still trying to get his bearings. “Is she okay?”

  But Agatha was beside him before he even finished his question. “I’m sorry,” she moaned, brushing at his cheek. “How do you feel?”

  “I’m fine; I promise. Just waking up.”

  “I was afraid I would hurt you. I had to use a lot of power to force you to sleep. You might feel weak for a while.”

  He chuckled. “I don’t even remember.”

  “It wasn’t particularly exciting,” Nora joked. “You might have snored a bit.”

  “I don’t snore.”

  “You did this time.”

  He looked at Agatha. “Did I?” he asked, feigning indignance.

  A small smile was finally playing on Agatha’s lips. She glanced at Nora, then back at Mel.

  “Of course not,” she finally said, and she and Nora giggled.

  “Whatever. Can I sit up?”

  Agatha, having Angel strength, helped Mel haul himself into a sitting position. Then the two women adjusted the pillow behind him. He was dizzy, his heart still beating slowly. He shook a little. But he was all right.

  Judith and Gilla were sitting on opposite sides of the end of the bed, studying him carefully. Michael was in the foreground, arms folded, shifting on the balls of his feet. Mel was used to attention, but it was very strange finding himself the subject of five people at once.

  Gilla signed, Good sleep?

  Mel smiled. “No nightmares.”

  She nodded firmly. Good.

  Agatha frowned and looked around. Gilla was behind her, and she turned to study her.

  “She--you can’t speak?” she asked, amazed.

  There weren’t such deficits among Angels.

  Gilla flushed and nodded. My deal with God, she said.

  Agatha didn’t speak sign language. Mel looked at Nora, who hesitated; neither of them were eager to translate.

  But Gilla was looking at Nora expectantly, so Nora said, “God--Father promised to make her Immortal in exchange for her voice.”

  Judith gasped, and whirled around to face Michael. “You didn’t say!”

  He looked almost anguished. “I didn’t know how--”

  “And you accept this?” Agatha exclaimed, and everyone jumped.

  Gilla looked shocked, and stared at her almost fearfully.

  “No one’s happy about it,” Nora said, bristling a little. “It was her choice to make, and she made it.”

  But Agatha was on her feet, staring at Gilla as if she was staring at a strange creature. “All you had to do was say no,” she breathed, almost disgusted. “You’re playing his game. You’re one of his pawns now, just like the rest of us. You had the chance to stay out of it and you chose to join. Do you have any idea what you’ve done to yourself?”

  “That’s enough,” Michael said, stepping between the two of them.

  He was angry, his dark eyes glittering.

  Agatha was icy, glowering up at him as if she was wishing she could cause him great pain. “I shouldn’t be surprised,” she whispered.

  “Agatha,” Mel said warningly, his heart finally picking up speed.

  She ignored him. “You already took--”

  “Agatha.”

  “We’re leaving,” Michael said, as Gilla stood and took his hand.

  “You took one human’s life; why not ruin another’s?” Agatha finally spat. “I don’t know how--”

  “Agatha!” Mel growled.

  It was as if his body had Regenerated again--his heart raced, heat ran through his limbs, and his exhaustion vanished. The temperature dropped, and Agatha shivered, unused to Mel’s Talent.

  Michael was very pale. He and Gilla left, snapping the door shut behind them.

  Mel sprang to his feet. “What the hell?”

  “Agatha, you promised,” Judith sighed.

  Agatha threw her hands in the air, exasperated. “I don’t understand either of you. Especially you,” she continued, looking at Mel. “After what he did to you.”

  His anger surged, and both Judith and Agatha stumbled back a few paces.

  He stared at Agatha. “Do not,” he whispered, “speak of it. As if you know. You don’t. No one does.”

  There was a silence. He saw Nora stand in the corner of his vision. She gingerly touched his arm, and he looked at her. Her expression was soothing, and her brown eyes seemed to do the trick. His anger faded, and the room warmed.

  “We all need some time apart,” Judith said, and Mel looked at her.

  She had a hand on Agatha, who looked both ashamed and frustrated.

  He was about to argue. They had only just gotten here, had only just reunited with him. They had so many things to say, so many stories to tell. But he saw that knowing look on Judith’s face--that look of wisdom, her great Talent, and he knew she was right.

  He nodded. He felt a little ashamed--he had lost his temper, with his sister of all people. But Agatha should have known better, picking on Michael like that. And she had brought up Lilith, and that was….too much.

  But then he was struck. Agatha had been the one who had killed Lilith….in the very same way she had just put Mel to sleep. The memory was so painful it nearly took his breath away. But to think that Agatha had gone through that too….that, perhaps, she bore guilt for what she had been forced to do. She never had a choice, while Gilla had.

  God, he was an idiot.

  “I’ll get Michael,” Nora said, and she slipped out of the loft.

  Mel looked at Judith, feeling a wave of shame wash over him.

  “You don’t have to go,” he murmured, almost pleadingly.

  She wrapped her arms around him. “Yes we do. Not for long. We have to be there for your operation.”

  “You just got here.”

  She kissed his cheek. “It’s better for everyone. Trust me.”

  He pulled away and nodded. There was a horrible ache in his chest. He and his sisters had been reunited for an
hour, and he had already ruined it.

  He looked at Agatha, but she was avoiding his eyes, her arms folded and her little jaw set. Judith whispered to her, but she shook her head.

  Well, at this rate, Agatha would hate every last one of them.

  Nora returned with Michael. Mel noticed his eyes were red, and he felt another ache. Michael was holding that book from earlier, and he showed it to Judith now, tearing out a couple pages and pointing to them, murmuring in her ear. Judith nodded firmly.

  Once they were gone, Mel sat down on the bed. He felt fine--normal again--but he also felt like a prick. For which he wasn’t sure--for his treatment of Agatha, or for all the shit going on between him and his brother. It was difficult to tell--he loved them both so dearly.

  He frowned, bewildered. He hadn’t admitted….hadn’t accepted his love for Michael since the War. It was very strange to have heard it inside his head now, and at this time in particular. It was very out of place.

  It was confusing, too, and he hunched over, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  He felt Nora sit beside him. “That was rough,” she said gently, brushing her hand along his back.

  “I was a jerk.”

  “I don’t know,” Nora said slowly. “Agatha wasn’t being very fair.”

  “Michael forced her to murder Lilith, Nora. She has every right to be unfair.”

  Nora was quiet a moment. Then, “She doesn’t have the right to go off on Gilla. Or on you.”

  Mel studied his hands. She was right, as usual.

  He sighed. “I expected that to go better.”

  “I know.”

  “What if they can’t come back?”

  It was a fear that made him almost tremble. He loved his sisters so much, and now that he had finally gotten to see them again, he craved them more.

  Nora was soothing. “They will. God won’t let your arm stay like that forever. I’m sure he knows we need Agatha for this.”

  Mel snorted. “Yeah. Just for that. Forget about my feelings.”

  “I know that’s typical of him. But I don’t think he’ll keep them away anymore.”

  Michael appeared then, and Nora went to him. She whispered, but Mel clearly heard her ask him if he was all right.

  He simply shrugged, apparently not wanting to talk about it.

  Mel got to his feet. “What were you showing Judith?” he asked awkwardly.