Dream Magic

by Michelle Mankin

  “Daddy, please. Don’t.” My raptor hearing picked up on the softly spoken plea. A flash of metal, a threat, too close to the woman who I would protect at all cost. Near her a willowy blonde her hands cuffed in front of her squeezed her eyes shut as a blade wielded by the herald bit through the vulnerable flesh of her wrists. Pain glassed her gaze. She swayed on her feet, but didn’t fall. Two guards held her their hands clamped around her upper arms. Blood flowed from her wound splashing up the sides of a ceremonial bowl that the monarch held to catch it.

  I had heard rumors that Phoebus’ sadistic madness knew no bounds. He was in truth a fiend. I saw it played out before my own eyes. Even his own daughter was not spared.

  The white wigged attendant licked the blade clean as his regent bore his odious bounty toward Cecilia.

  “No,” I muttered through my gritted teeth. I had witnessed enough. It was time to intervene. I didn’t know exactly what Phoebus had planned for Cecilia, but I did know that I didn’t want him anywhere near her. Extending my talons to their full length, I stretched out my wings knocking aside those who stood near me.

  “Stop,” a feminine voice hissed quietly. Delicate yet surprisingly strong fingers fell upon either wing.

  I growled my frustration at two dark skinned vampires who were attempting to restrain me. “Unhand me at once, worthless vermin, or suffer the consequences.” I brandished my talons to punctuate my point.

  “Be still,” whispered the shorter one with tightly cropped curls. She appeared distracted, her gaze darting to the side. “Please,” she pleaded, shifting on her bare feet as she sought to maintain her grip on me.

  “I’m tempted to let you go just to watch how fast the guards riddle your worthless body with obsidian bolts,” the taller vamp spat out, her Haitian accent identical to the other. “But Marcel vouched for you, and we reluctantly approved your admission through the dark gate.” She spoke in measured tones so that her voice didn’t carry. “If we have misjudged you all of our heads will end up in a basket.” She shook her head, her agitation making her straight black hair strike her slim but powerful shoulders. “For the Creator’s sake,” she sighed as I continued to resist her grasp. “How dense are you? Lower your wings and retract your claws right now, you fool, before you undo us all.” Her crimson eyes flashed bright with warning.

  A measured breath and a cursory glance around the hall revealed the wisdom of her counsel. Several of the guards in the stands had taken notice of us. I had lost myself momentarily. I could scarcely think straight, the pull of Cecilia was so strong. I withdrew my wings. Both vamps stumbled in the empty space they had occupied. I seized the advantage, grabbing both of them by their cropped raiment, drawing them in, my talons denting the skin under their chins. Their eyes widened, but the resolve in them never wavered.

  Impressive. Most would quail at the kiss of my razor sharp claws.

  “Who are you?” My gaze narrowed with suspicion. In my peripheral vision I was relieved to see that the guards had lost interest in us. From their vantage point it probably appeared that the minor disturbance was over. “Convince me why I should hearken to anything you have to say?”

  “Because I’m Catonia,” the taller one said. “And she’s Evercy. Bacchus might have secured you your day pass into the city, but we hold the power to gain you an audience with the oracle if your official request is denied. But that is not going to happen if you continue to make a scene and put us all at risk.”

  “Shit, Cat. Look at her. Poor Cici,” Evercy observed sorrowfully, her gaze upon the stage.

  Dread like venom dripped into my gut. Cecilia’s head turned aside trying to avoid Phoebus and the bowl he thrust at her. His hands glowed, heat waves emanating from them. Steam from the blood rose into the air drifting beneath the oracle’s hood. Cecilia immediately began to thrash, the voluminous sleeves of her robe rolling back and uncovering her hands. I keened a protest when I realized why her posture had been so awkward. Manacles bound her wrists to the armrests and her ankles to the legs of the chairs.

  “No,” she moaned. “No.” Hearing her voice for the first time gave me no pleasure, for her pleas were laden with pain.

  “Phoebus coerces from her what she would not willingly reveal,” Evercy explained without taking her eyes off of the stage. Even in profile I could tell that what she saw wounded her. “It makes her ill when he forces her. She can’t use her gifts for a time afterward. But he doesn’t care. He is obsessed with finding those who defy him.”

  “None can stop him. Not here,” Catonia cautioned placing her hand on my arm. “Not even you.” I had taken a step toward Cecilia without even realizing it. “They would drop you well before you reached the platform.” Catonia was studying me intently, perplexed by my behavior. I knew my actions betrayed me but I couldn’t seem to control them.

  “Speak, oracle,” Phoebus had set aside the bowl. He shook her chair by the armrests. “Your regent commands it.” His tone compelled, the power of his Progeny persuasion rippling through the entire hall. He reached into his pocket, withdrew something small and placed it in her hand forcing her fingers to close around it. Her body started to shake violently. The hood slid away from her face…

  I stopped breathing.

  She was beyond exquisite.

  A more beautiful creature I had never seen.

  Her silky hair framed her smooth and golden countenance. Darkest ebony like the night sky contrasted purest platinum that sparkled like the stars. Her thickly lashed eyes glowed like a new moon. Mesmerizing eyes, their gaze unfocused, nonetheless held mine.

  Suddenly, a sudden gust of air swept from the back of the hall as if summoned by her. I drew in a deep breath as it passed. It carried a fragrance recalling the moon flower whose blossoms opened only when the night called to them. The sweet rich floral scent aroused unfamiliar feelings within me.

  “Normandy,” Cecilia intoned. “Rouen. The medieval old city.”

  “Yes, my pet,” Phoebus purred his eyes hot on her. “Very good.” He stroked her hair. I growled. She was mine. I would not have his malign touch upon her. “But Rouen is such a big place. Where exactly does Parnell hide? You can do better than that, n’est-ce pas?”

  All of a sudden I recalled where I had heard the name Parnell. It had been on the transport request from the Cypress Organization. I remembered Hermes’ fascination with the group that sought to spirit away those unfortunates convicted in Phoebus’ unjust court.

  Cecilia’s hand tightened around the object it held. Lips the color of a Carolina rose blossom fluttered. “A bed and breakfast. The Beach View. There you will find the one you seek.” Her breath escaped in a rush. Her eyes closed and her body slumped forward.

  “Come, falcon.” Evercy tugged on my arm. “Court is dismissed.” I heard. I knew everyone was leaving, but my gaze remained glued to the threshold through which Cecilia’s unconscious form had been carried. The guards with their crossbows remained vigilant watching as everyone filed out of the hall. Despite them, I found myself calculating the odds of making it through that door myself.

  They were not encouraging.

  “Morpheus.” Catonia snapped her fingers in front of my face. I dipped my gaze to her and raised a brow. “Try to blend in for Creator’s sake. Everyone is leaving. So must we. Dark Immortals are not allowed to linger in the court.” She picked up a spear from the ground and started walking in the opposite direction from where Cecilia had been taken.

  “My goal is in that direction.” I motioned toward the door, my talons extended, my thoughts cluttered, my life upended. “You said you had the means to get me to see her. I paid handsomely for that privilege.”

  “You did. And we will. Unfortunately she won’t be able to prophesize until she recovers. And we cannot go that way. You came in through the dark gate. You must leave in the same manner. You must learn the rules that govern our kind in this realm.”

  “I am not your kind. And I am not bound by your rules,” I announced arrogantly turni
ng to go the way I wanted. In my agitation I dislodged a single feather. It lifted high into the air caught on some invisible current. I began my advance feeling the eyes of the Sun Elves upon me.

  “Dumbass.” Catonia zipped in front of me using the speed of her kind. “You are determined to get us all killed, aren’t you?” Evercy joined us, not before retrieving my errant feather. Catonia ran an irritated hand over her forehead. “I don’t really have time to coddle you right now. I must find Stone.”

  “Cici must have sent him away,” Evercy exchanged a worried glance with her cohort. “Phoebus will…”

  “I know, Ever,” Catonia cut in, her tone revealing her frustration. “Which is why we must leave now to find him…” Catonia trailed off distracted by her friend. “Why are you waving that stupid thing around?” Evercy held my feather aloft tilting it back and forth under a patch of sunlight from the window. The iridescence in it sparkled much like the diamond dust in the cobblestone mortar outside.

  “Does this thing look familiar to you?” Evercy asked, her tone rhetorical almost as if she already knew the answer to the question she had posed.

  Catonia looked dazed for a moment. “By the Creator!” Her expression brightened with sudden understanding. “It’s just like hers.”

  “Exactly.” Evercy nodded.

  “Weird.” Catonia squinted at me. “Have you ever met our oracle before?”

  I shook my head. I had no clue what was going on or why my interaction with the vamps had taken such a bizarre turn.

  “Your request said only that you wanted the oracle to find Thyme Bellerose, the daughter of Bacchus. Is that truly the only purpose of your visit to the Sun City?”

  What had been true once was no longer, there was much more to it now that I had seen Cecilia, now that I knew who she was, what we were to each other. These two seemed to be knowledgeable and well disposed toward the oracle, and I knew that like it or not I was probably going to need their help. “That is no longer the only reason,” I admitted vaguely.

  “Care to elaborate?” Catonia pressed.

  “I was unaware of the gravity of the situation within this realm. Now I see that things have deteriorated. That the oracle is forced to use her gifts against her will. That she is bound.” That he hurts her. That he dares to touch that which belongs to me, I added internally. “Such treatment must cease.” I said no more. I had already given away far too much by my actions.

  “The situation is indeed dire. Phoebus devolves daily in his madness. Cecilia knows that full well, yet she continues...” A Sun Elf drifted closer to us as if trying to overhear our conversation. Catonia’s face hardened. “You may come with us,” she decided abruptly. “Creator knows we could use an ally like you, that is when you are not behaving like a mindless oaf. Ultimately, it is up to the oracle. It always is. You’ll find out soon enough how she is.”

  “Don’t. Please don’t,” I begged before his ravenous lips closed over mine. I tasted the demoness on his tongue and felt ill remembering what he had been doing to her moments earlier as she straddled his face. I hadn’t watched but listening to the sounds had been almost as bad, knowing that he was thinking about me the whole time.

  “Cecily.” He groaned, his scalding lips trailing across my jaw as he pressed his cock against the bared skin of my ass. “I hate you, my pet, but I want you like no other I have ever known.” His hands closed around my breasts. I felt the abnormally warm heat of his skin. He wanted me to feel it. He wanted me to be afraid of him and yet to give in to my desire. Desire I couldn’t escape. Desire he forced me to feel.

  Creator, I hate him. I twisted my torso trying to escape his touch but he wouldn’t relent, pinching my nipples so hard my flesh burned, shoving his bony fingers inside of me while rubbing his cock along the cleft of my ass.

  I didn’t beg any longer. It wouldn’t do any good and I knew he got off on it anyway. I closed my eyes instead and pretended that I was playing a game, one that was a little rough but one that I wanted to play. What else could I do? After all, no knight waited in the wings ready to swoop in and rescue me. It was just me now. So day after day, year after year, I survived.

  Once we were outside the palace very few of the Dark Immortals who had been with us in the hall remained. Most were already retreating across the bridge I had taken earlier. The vamps motioned for me to come along, taking to the street at a jog in the opposite direction. But I had questions that needed answers before I blindly followed them.

  The sun beating hot on my face, I snapped my wings open, lifted off the ground and grabbed both of them by their necks. “Halt.” I let them feel the edge of my talons again, for ‘encouragement’. In my experience that usually made those I questioned infinitely more pliable. “Why are we leaving, why when the oracle remains in the palace?”

  They twisted their heads around and glared at me with glowing crimson eyes.

  Catonia answered though it obviously vexed her to do so. “Because Phoebus has Cecilia and she is heavily guarded at the moment. Because we can’t get near her in that place. Because of what we are.” Her eyes flashed brighter. She was not a creature who suffered her confinement easily. “And as formidable as you may be, you are bound by the same restrictions. You can’t just rush in there, grab the guards by the necks, lift their feet off the ground and demand that they do your bidding. There are too many of them, and then there is Phoebus. He is mad, but he is cunning, intelligent and powerful. It will take finesse and a concerted effort to extract her.”

  “Extract her from what exactly?” Unease made the tuna I had snatched for my dinner from the Atlantic slosh heavily within my stomach.

  “Why does it matter so much to you, falcon?” Catonia asked astutely, sliding from my grip because I let her. She put her hands on her hips and regarded me. My top feathers bristled with irritation. I enjoyed the challenge of discerning the motivations of others through observation. However I didn’t like it at all when I was the one being scrutinized. “You seem unduly concerned about someone you haven’t yet met. I think you’re withholding information. Important information.”

  “I need her services.” I shrugged. “She cannot aid me if she is injured.”

  “Hmm,” Evercy mused cryptically alternating her gaze between me and the feather.

  “We’re wasting precious time.” Catonia turned away waving her hand over her shoulder. “You obviously have your secrets, as do we. Time will tell if those secrets will be shared. For now our goals coincide. You need her help. We want her safe. And I am certainly curious to see her reaction to you. But first we have to get her away from Phoebus.”

  A ten minute sprint through busy narrow cobblestone streets took us to away from the more populated area of the city. We slowed down when we reached a tree lined street in a residential neighborhood. Urging me to come closer, the vamps stopped and knocked an intricate pattern on the blue door of a building with a whitewashed limestone facade.

  A wizened satyr opened it shortly. He glanced at the street behind us nervously before waving us inside. He closed the door and latched it, the eyes behind his spectacles filming with caution as he studied me. “Who’s this?”

  “Morpheus,” I answered preemptively.

  “Ah, the mercenary.” He shook his head and a leaf sprig fell from the horn where it had been dangling. “I heard you were granted entrance to the city.” His gaze shifted to Catonia. “But why bring him here?”

  “We don’t have time to discuss this, Donar. My choice. My call. A lot of bad stuff happened in the court today. Landon was sentenced. Phoebus gave him the death penalty.”

  “Cecilia feared as much.” Donar shook his head sadly. “She sent Stone ahead to make arrangements.”

  “And Phoebus forced Cici to scry.”

  “Merciful Creator!” the satyr exclaimed. “Not again.”

  “She revealed Parnell’s whereabouts. Someone’s going to have to warn him to vacate the safe house before Phoebus’ forces arrive. Since we have to liberate Land
on I was thinking he might be able to relay that message and help Parnell set up a new location. But that means we’ll have to move quickly.” She glanced toward the narrow darkened hallway behind the satyr as if looking for someone. “Our first priority is to get Stone to Cecilia. She gets so weak after the ritual. Is Stone here?”

  My mind started piecing facts together. It was obvious I had walked into some kind of subversive movement. Cypress organization no doubt, but who is in charge? I wondered. Catonia or Stone? His name had been brought up more than once. And what was going on with Cecilia and Phoebus? Everything I heard made my uneasiness grow. I was eager to take action. To do something. But there were too many unknowns at the moment. I was known for being levelheaded and methodical. Once the players and their motivations were known, and my plan of action predetermined, my victory would be assured. Stakes had never been higher than now with Cecilia being my Fated and the only one with the means to find Thyme. Crossbow wielding elves. A warded city. Subterfuge. I couldn’t take unnecessary risks. I had to proceed with caution.

  My musings were suddenly interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps. I braced just before the front door crashed open nearly knocking Evercy off her feet. One of the biggest gargoyles I had ever seen stomped inside. His features were more regular than the ones who served Apollyon, almost regal, though he most certainly was not human. His keen eyes revealed that he was intelligent. His gaze passed over the vamps and settled on me, weighing and taking my measure with certitude as I did the same. He lifted his chin as if I had cleared the initial hurdle of his approval.

  “Stone,” Catonia drew his attention after she closed the door. She recapped the situation as she had done earlier with the satyr.

  “Stone will go to Cecilia now.” Expression grim, the gargoyle turned and reached for the door handle.

  “And I will accompany you.”

  “Stone is not surprised.” The gargoyle was more accepting than I expected. “Stone only wondered when you would finally come,” he mumbled beneath his breath so low I almost didn’t hear him. But he didn’t pause to wait on me. A course of action decided upon, he seemed as eager to take action as I was. He unfolded his bat-like wings as soon as he stepped through the door.