Dream Magic

by Michelle Mankin

  “No, no, no,” my sister chanted. She knew as well as I did that our vision had been a glimpse into a very near and certain future.

  I whipped the wheel around without letting off on the gas. My elbow hit the door. Millie slid into me. We had to go back. Back to the cottage. Back to save our parents. The fire had started, but maybe if we hurried we could alter what we had foreseen.

  But there would be no awakening from this horrible dream. The dark night became darker still as one of the gargoyles landed hard on the hood of the truck, the weight of his stone form indenting a deeper wedge in the metal than where Ernesto had fallen. Severely damaged, the engine abruptly locked. The vehicle rocked back and forth from the force of impact as momentum carried us forward.

  I screamed. My chin smashed into the steering wheel. I bit through my tongue. My body collided with Millie as we tumbled around inside the hard unforgiving confines of the cabin. I blacked out briefly. When I regained awareness the vehicle was deadly still and Millie was slumped in a ball on the floorboard beside me.

  Before I could reach for her the crumpled doors of the vehicle were ripped from their hinges. Bloodless concrete hands snatched me from my perch. I kicked and squirmed trying to break loose but to no avail.

  “Be still, little girl.” Malevolent statue grey eyes flickering with a fluorescent hue beamed down at me before he snapped his head to the left. The nostrils at the end of his snout flared. “The Master will arrive shortly.” He dropped me to my feet on the ground in front of him. My bandana was lost. My hair was in my eyes. My mouth tasted like copper. Every muscle in my body was sore. And my heart was completely broken.

  The saggy eyed horned gargoyle stomped toward us with Millie in his arms. Her breathing sounded shallow. Her eyes were closed. I tried to dislodge the gargoyles’ cold grip from my shoulders but couldn’t. His claws only dug deeper into my flesh.

  “Millie, wake up,” I pleaded but she didn’t reply. Precious minutes passed while I was forced to stand alone alternating my tear blurred gaze from Millie to the smoke above the trees knowing what was unfolding only a few miles away but helpless to do anything to change it.

  Just when I felt like I was about to collapse, headlights from an approaching vehicle illuminated the wreckage of the truck first, then the horned gargoyle who held my sister cradled in his massive stone arms.

  Keep breathing, Amelia. Don’t die on me.

  “Kneel.” Marble hands dug unforgivingly into my shoulders. “Eyes to the ground prisoner and the Master may let you live,” the gargoyle hissed though his voice wavered.

  I did as he ordered but my heart thumped with dread knowing that his Master was Apollyon, one so feared he made even a creature of impenetrable stone tremble.

  Hearing the echo of heavy footsteps outside the small cinderblock cell, I hugged Millie’s unconscious form tighter.

  No one was going to take her away from me.

  No one.

  Not even the devil himself.

  I hadn’t let them separate us back in the rainforest, but I had remained on my knees gaze to the ground as the gargoyle had ordered and as Apollyon had drawn near.

  Not out of reverence.

  Out of malice.

  My eyes had burned with it as I stared at the mud and blood spattered shoes of the Progeny who had just murdered my parents.

  “Interesting,” he had pronounced enigmatically after a long silence when my senses had tunneled and I had felt the chill of his lingering perusal. Then he had wandered away casually complaining to those in attendance about the inconvenience of the night.

  I vowed to teach him a harsh lesson regarding ‘inconvenience.’

  I swore it.

  The Destroyer’s days were numbered.

  First, I had to get my sister somewhere safe. Somewhere he could never harm her again.

  Then I would end his worthless existence.

  Slowly and painfully.

  Somehow.

  Someway.

  Someday.

  Soon.

  The footsteps ceased outside the cell door, bringing me back to the moment. Keys jingled. The rusty bolt scraped against metal and hinges creaked loudly in protest as the door slowly opened. Artificial light streamed into the dark room temporarily blinding me. I blinked rapidly to adjust my eyes and lifted my chin in stubborn defiance. I refused to be embarrassed that the cell reeked of urine, that I had been forced to use the drain in the center of the room. I would do whatever was necessary to survive and protect Millie. Those were my immediate goals.

  “On your feet, little girl,” the horned gargoyle who had attacked us barked in a gravelly tone. His footfalls sounded like sledge hammers striking granite as he moved toward me.

  “Si, yes, por supuesto, of course,” I croaked falling naturally into Spanish, my mother’s native tongue the way I often did whenever I was tired. And I was way more than tired. I was exhausted, nearly in shock, and reeling from raw loss.

  I gently placed my sister on the floor and stood, swaying unsteadily on my legs. I curled my fingers into tight fists willing my lower limbs to hold and swallowed to moisten my dry throat. My mouth tasted like copper. It had been hours since Millie and I had been locked inside the cell with nothing to drink. Not that Millie cared. She had remained unconscious through it all and that worried me greatly.

  “My sister’s hurt.” I tipped my head toward her. “She needs a doctor. Please. I…” I trailed off as the gargoyle brushed me aside and reached for her. “No!” I cried, not wanting him to touch her, but he completely disregarded me, shrugging off my attempts to stop him and throwing her over his shoulder as though she were a sack of grain instead of a gravely injured girl.

  I curled my fingers into my palms, the bite of my nails into my flesh making my eyes burn. But my anger was impotent. I was completely powerless against such a thing. What could I do or say to redirect an immoveable creature?

  “The Master calls for you. Come,” he intoned seemingly more automaton than sentient being.

  He plodded out of the cell, and I followed despondently. He had my sister. Where else would I go? Down a long silent corridor past several closed doors we traveled. A single barred window at the far end provided the only light and framed a setting I recognized. Fajardo, the dockside town below the rainforest. It was midday and bustling with activity. Crowds of people surging busily between the buildings and the dock. Sailboats, fishing vessels and tankers bobbed on the turquoise surface of the Atlantic Ocean.

  If only I could reach the water, I thought. The islands of Culebra and Vieques weren’t far away from the harbor. Millie and I were expert swimmers, and Papá had taught us how to hold our breath longer than most immortals. The ocean was Poseidon’s domain. The neutral Progeny had no love for Apollyon. I might be able to convince him to grant us asylum.

  Lost in thoughts of escape, I ran directly into our jailor who had stopped abruptly. I would probably bruise later. The gargoyle grabbed my arm and tossed me through an open doorway before I could get my bearings.

  I landed on my hands and knees skidding through a slippery puddle before coming to a stop in front of the single chair in the middle of the small windowless room. Apollyon the Destroyer was sprawled sideways on it. His long legs draped sideways over the armrest and hoofs rather than feet poked out from beneath the cuffs of his trousers.

  “Cecilia Ramirez.” His onyx eyes gleaming, he grinned down at me seemingly pleased by my subservient position. “How kind of you to join me.” His hooves clopped against the tile floor as he slowly stood, his dark form eclipsing the overhead light.

  I pressed my lips flat willing the wave of nausea to recede as I watched him delicately dab at the corner of his thick lips with the cuff of his white dress shirt sleeve. His effort left a disturbing red stain on the material that I knew wasn’t lipstick. A quick panicked glance at the puddle beneath my hands confirmed what it was…blood, sticky and still warm. I scrambled out of it, desperately wiping my hands on my tattered shorts. I tr
ied to stand. I wanted to flee, but a heavy concrete hand on my shoulders held me in place. Rear pressed to my heels, pinned in place, I glared up at the sadistic demon who slithered toward me like a cobra summoned from its basket.

  “You’re a spunky one. I believe that I like it.” Apollyon’s lips curled, the rancid smell of his fetid breath choking me as he leaned down and captured a lock of my hair. I gulped compulsively while he rubbed the incongruous strands between his thumb and finger. I remembered that my bandana was back in the cell. I’d used it to staunch the startling amount of bleeding from the back of Millie’s skull. My hair was loosely tangled around my shoulders, the reflective parts dulled by grit and grime. “Very unusual,” he decided, his head angling to the side as he regarded me. “But fetching in a strange way.” He moved toward Millie twisting his neck to get a better look at her as my breath caught. Her eyes remained closed. She was totally defenseless slung over the gargoyles’ shoulder. “Twins, are you not?” he asked.

  I held my tongue refusing to answer though he trained his powerful Progeny gaze on me.

  “Not an Offspring,” he mused, tapping a finger to his pointed chin, “but immortal nonetheless, daughter of Raphael and Panacea. A shameful heritage best forgotten. Your father’s sins against my dear father Hades are well documented. It is doubtful that he or your mother will be allowed to enter the gates of the city on the Otherside even if they should manage the toll to cross the river.”

  I kept my expression neutral. He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know. Hades had been very displeased with my father and the other three Ancients for abandoning their positions as guardians of his city. And immortals had a long time to nurture their grudges.

  Apollyon frowned. Apparently he had hoped to upset me. He stalked closer to Millie. “Panacea’s features and Raphael’s coloring. She’s such a pretty plaything.” Tension tightened like a clamp around my lungs as I noted the spark of lustful interest in his gaze. “What is wrong with her, Bast?” he barked abruptly.

  The gargoyle shuffled his weight side to side nervously but didn’t answer. Worried what his master would do to him for damaging the captured goods I imagined.

  “She hit her head when your gargoyle crashed into us,” I informed him. Bast’s cold hand squeezed my flesh in warning. He didn’t approve of me ratting him out. Too bad. “She needs a doctor.” My voice warbled. “Please,” I begged.

  “Does she indeed?” His tone and his expression lightened. He seemed to enjoy my desperation. “And why should I grant such a request, daughter of Raphael? Why should I not have my fun and games before I put an end to both of you?”

  Fear felt like an icy spike in the center of my chest, but I straightened my spine and forced myself to hold his gaze curling my sticky fingers into tight fists should he attempt to harm one hair on my sister’s head.

  Think, Cici. Think. I needed a bargaining chip, something to offer that would convince him to help rather than hurt her. “She’s worth nothing to you dead,” I stated the obvious working things out in my mind, borrowing time. His tongue darted out as if he sensed and tasted my panic. His maniacal grin deepened. “If you help her, if you let her live, I…I can…I will predict your future.”

  His gaze sharpened to a point. He moved so fast and so unexpectedly that I gasped when he suddenly hauled me to my feet. His hot rotten meat breath swamped my senses, and his cold fingers pinched the flesh of my upper arms. “You are a seer?” His gaze darted back and forth across my features. It was obvious he wanted me to answer the question in the affirmative. I also suspected that he would be able to sense it if I lied.

  “Yes.” A half-truth. I was more than only that but he didn’t need to know everything yet. I already risked much with my offer to prophesy. Without Millie to balance me, I wasn’t sure that I could really do it. I might have to lie. I would have to be very clever to trick him. He was in many ways potent and perceptive, but I could also sense that his power sometimes blinded him.

  “Interesting.” He inclined his head. “Possibly useful.” He tipped his chin toward the door. “Take the sister to Laveau,” he told the gargoyle. Marie Laveau. She had become Apollyon’s principal advisor after my father had resigned. The Voodoo Queen lived on centuries after a normal lifespan aided by means of dark magic and a potion she had concocted from the fallen leaves of the General, the oldest obsidian barked tree in the Underground.

  The gargoyle hefted my sister higher on his shoulder turning away to do his Master’s bidding. Worried, I wanted to follow my twin with my eyes, but knew I needed to keep my focus on my adversary.

  “Go ahead, daughter of Raphael.” Apollyon’s grip tightened on my arm, his dark eyes dancing with anticipation. “Speak. Foretell. Why do you delay? Do I need to…inspire you?”

  “Let go of me,” I brazened lifting my chin. “You have to let go of me. I can’t do it if I’m coerced.”

  “Very well.” His tone was oily with reluctant acquiescence but he released his hold. Watching me carefully, he stroked my cheek with the back of his icy knuckles. I had to lock my muscles to hide my shiver of revulsion. “No more dawdling,” he warned softly. “I am not known for my patience. If I must I will bring your sister back for unpleasantries.”

  Out of nowhere darkness crashed over me like a rogue wave. Whether from his threat toward Millie or some kind of psychic link between him and me that I didn’t understand, my new moon eyes immediately began to glow. His face swam before me as I lost contact with the here and now.

  I heard a sound and strained my ears to hear. A cacophony of voices.

  “We’re trapped,” they cried. “Save us!” I covered my ears as the terror in their pleas rose. Murder all around. I could feel their anguish. Pain twisted in a horrible way I couldn’t fathom. Lives snuffed out dissolved in a red hazed wind. Suddenly, I found myself in the dawn of a different place floating on a tumultuous sea. I fought the current. Seeing an untainted light ahead, I swam toward it. A harmonica. Shiny and silver. Irresistible music filled my ears. I saw laughter in the crystal blue gaze of the handsome man who played it. The woman beside him had beautiful café con leche skin and gentle violet eyes. They were happy. I wanted to linger with them but a growing shadow loomed on the horizon. A man with two faces materialized. Handsome yet scarred. Within his body raged a terrifying beast that clamored for release. He stared longingly at a woman with long blonde hair. She might have been Millie but was too far away for me to see her features clearly. I ran toward her as she reached out her hand for something I instinctively knew she shouldn’t touch.

  “No!” I screamed but she couldn’t hear me. Too late I saw the glint of darkness as she placed the horrible thing atop her head. An onyx crown. She was setting in motion a chain of events she would never be able to undo. Then, as abruptly as it had all started, I was suddenly alone again. A heavy sadness weighed me down like an anchor until a pair of mysterious yet somehow familiar iridescent eyes lightened my burden. Eyes that I knew had seen too much. Eyes with an intensity I had never before beheld. A gaze that left me at once exposed and fulfilled.

  “What is it?” Apollyon’s voice snapped me out of the vision. I cracked open my eyes. “You cried out.” He shook me and the vision dissipated leaving me feeling drained. “Tell me. What did you see?”

  I blinked into a dark gaze that I knew personified all the evil I had foreseen.

  “A crown,” I blurted out without intending. Had he used his persuasion on me? “I saw a dark crown.”

  “Ah, the Crown of Hades. It will be mine. Excellent. Laveau has foreseen this as well. What more? Speak, wench!” His grip tightened on my shoulders. He shook me so hard my teeth rattled together.

  “A harmonica and a girl.” I clamped my lips shut.

  “Nyx. Damn him to hell.” His brow creasing, he released me seeming unsettled.

  By Nyx? The god of night? Por supuesto, of course. I remembered now. The harmonica had been his talisman. Nyx was a Dark Progeny. On the Council. A Favored. He h
ad been thrown into the abyss of the eternal fire because of his forbidden union with Hemera the goddess of day, a Light Progeny. Everyone knew their tragic love story. It was a dire parable, a lesson to any who would dare to ignore the line that separated Dark and Light Immortals.

  Why had I seen him?

  How could he be the future if he was already dead?

  And what was his link to Apollyon?

  And most disturbing of all, had it truly been Millie donning Hades’ crown?

  “Take her back to her cell.” Apollyon barked the order and the two gargoyles from the hall stomped toward me as he threw himself back into his chair.

  “But my sister…” I began.

  “The bargain was made,” he cut me off. “The bargain will be kept.”

  I swallowed my protest. From the irritation evident on his face I knew it would be unwise to press him.

  “This way,” the gargoyle that resembled a Chinese dragon ordered.

  Apparently, I didn’t comply fast enough. The other gargoyle with ram horns protruding from his forehead grabbed my arm, curled his stone fingers around it and tugged hard. I turned to follow him. Outwardly, I shuffled my feet obediently, but inside my head I riffled through possible escape scenarios. I was so deep in thought I almost didn’t react quickly enough to dive out of the way when the door to the hall suddenly burst open. The forceful entry knocked me free of my captor’s grip in one direction while the gargoyle’s splayed in the other. The combined weight of their heavy stone bodies shook the floor beneath my feet. Swaying and coughing within a thick cloud of loose mortar, I waved a hand in front of myself to clear the air but drew back with a gasp as a large form vaulted past me.