AIR Series Box Set

by Amanda Booloodian

  "Please forgive me, Mrs. Brown," Henry said. Then he threw the door open.

  I fell back and hit the table. Pain shot through my back where it made contact with the rough-hewn wood. Scrambling around the edge of the table, I endeavored to put something between the Walker and me.

  Henry reached out.

  I swiped madly through the air. A symbol blazed only for my eyes before rushing at Henry and throwing him back.

  "Come at me again young man, and you will coat my walls." It was a bluff. Between trying to open a doorway home last night and the spell I just threw at him, the charge in the air was depleted. In my younger days, the latter would have done much more than knock the man off his feet.

  I could feel myself sag. When had I grown old?

  Henry rose to his feet.

  "You're not alone in there anymore, boy." My mind raced to find the spell that would cause the most damage.

  "What do you mean?" I couldn't see if he was nervous, but I could hear it in his voice.

  "Are you the one in charge in there?" I forced out a cackle, trying my hardest to unnerve the lad.

  "I am always in control," Henry said. He had tried to drain the emotion back out of his voice, but I heard the tinge of fear around the edges.

  "Better than most could say." I laughed at him again. "Especially at your age. Still, I see a bit of elf in you. Old Bill would be my guess." I swallowed hard and tried not to think too hard about that. "Is his daughter in there with you?"

  "Shut up, old woman." There was fire in Henry's voice.

  That was good. Fire from the man could fuel my next spell. At least if there was enough of it.

  Henry started forward.

  "The others are lively as well. What is it that you have against our community?"

  He stood opposite of the table from me. "I work to protect the Others."

  "By killing us all?" I grinned at him, trying to put him off balance.

  "The lives of a few shall save the rest."

  "Oh, good for the others, I suppose." As Henry moved around the table, I did as well.

  "It is good," Henry spat. "They will be left alone. Given freedom. The Others will be safe."

  "And you will live in safety with them?" I chuckled and could feel him grow angrier. "It's good to have an idea to cling to while you murder those around you."

  "Shut up!" Henry roared. He dove over the table.

  I jumped back. Maybe I had pushed things too far. One spell came to mind.

  Oris, I am sorry I could not live to set eyes on you again.

  Backed up against a wall, there was nowhere else for me to move. Henry clamped his hand around my wrist.

  I didn't bother to struggle. Being too old to run meant that I was too old to put up a good fight. But, at least I could do some damage on my way out.

  "Have you heard of the Triani Curse?" I asked.

  Henry appeared unnerved that I stood and stared him. "I've not."

  His eyes watched my hand trace the symbol into the air. It started to gather all the fury that had filled the room. It also soaked up the anguish that was pouring from my broken heart. Oh, Oris, I am sorry.

  "Triani is a death curse." I could see a look of panic in his eyes, but he didn't let go. "The moment I die, the spell ensures that your darkest nightmares are played out.”

  Henry stopped staring at the empty air and looked straight into my eyes. There was pain there. "My darkest nightmares?"

  My knees started to wobble. "Evil finds evil."

  Henry caught me and gently lowered me to the floor. "Madam, my darkest nightmares are happening now."

  I felt myself sag farther into the ground. I tried to say something else, but only a gurgle came out.

  "I will take your curse, Mrs. Brown. Please know that I will make all those responsible pay."

  My eyesight began to dim.

  "That includes myself," Henry said.

  ***

  My stomach churned as I stared at the body of clay before me. The barn door was open wide, and the light of the full moon clearly illuminated the entrance. It mocked me as it danced across the sky. The air itself felt heavy, as though a storm was on its way. Raging wind and the thunder of gods was out there somewhere.

  It should be here, storming over me and over the men who stood watch from the shadows.

  "We have one chance at this, Walker."

  It was William talking. William was forever speaking for the others. If another man attempted to speak, he sternly took over and yelled until the man was properly cowed. He had spat the word Walker out as if it were a curse.

  It was certainly a curse to me.

  "This thing," I gestured to the statue before me, "it will move like flesh?"

  William gathered all the superiority that he felt his station in life had warranted him. Because he was issued out by Stonewall Jackson, he felt he was significantly superior. "We do not have time to go over the particulars."

  Anger flashed, and I froze to the spot. Slowly, I turned to face the man, allowing my eyes to go pure black.

  William's dominance flailed under my gaze. Inside, I could feel the souls of the Others stir. Staring down a man like this didn't alter the iron grip that I used to hold onto those inside. I wanted to tell those inside me once again that I would make this man pay, but I knew they were beyond hearing.

  A throat cleared. "It will move." A thin man stepped out of the darkness.

  "And you are?" I asked, not taking my eyes off William.

  "Friedlein, sir. Samuel Friedlein."

  "What makes you certain, Mr. Friedlein?" I asked.

  "I created him."

  "I see. It sounds as though you are the man I must speak with. The rest of you may go." I was pushing it, I knew. I held no authority here, only threats. Still, all but William and Mr. Friedlein left the barn without a word.

  "Go to the house," William called at their retreating backs, "I will meet you there."

  "You wish to stay?" I asked.

  "This is done under my authority," William said. "I stay."

  I nodded curtly and released William from my gaze before my own fear was put on display. Focusing in on the statue, I started to walk around it, examining every inch.

  "How was this made?" I asked, not looking at the others.

  "Mysticism," Mr. Friedlein said. "It was—"

  "These are things that are not necessary," William said stiffly.

  This time, I let my anger get the better of me.

  Chapter 25

  "General," I said, catching him once again in my gaze, "I do not think you understand the situation as it stands now." Once again, my eyes filled with blackness.

  William went rigid when I moved towards him. He stood taller than I did, but only by a hair. By the time I was close, I had drawn myself up enough that it felt as though I loomed over him.

  To his credit, William didn't move back.

  "Let me explain things to you. You have asked me to enter into this creation of yours. As you know, to make this thing,” I gestured at the lifeless form, “move, it will take us all and we must remain together." I said.

  "In return—"

  "In exchange for the freedom of the Others. The Vice President has confirmed that all shall be released. I still believe that this hell is worth the price."

  "If you—"

  "What you have failed to grasp, General, is that it would take no effort to bring you into the fold. Would you like to have a closer look at my process?" While I watched my words sink into him, I let a smile slowly spread. "In order to understand the need for my questions?"

  William’s jaw clenched tight. "Ask your questions."

  "Once I have your assurances that we will not be interrupted again." Again, I felt as though I were pushing things too far.

  A scornful smile spread across William’s face. "I'll stay quiet and watch you as you pave your way to hell."

  I'll see you there. Out loud I said, "Mr. Friedlein, please continue." I gazed at Willia
m for a few more moments, trying to drive the threat home, and then I turned towards my new prison.

  "Jewish mysticism," he continued, as though he hadn't seen the whole exchange.

  "It came from humans?" I asked, genuinely surprised by the fact.

  "As far as we know, that is correct. The knowledge falls from one to another throughout time."

  "You've seen others built then?"

  Mr. Friedlein hesitated. "No. What we do here is forbidden."

  "Then why is the knowledge kept?"

  "It is a choice. As you are sacrificing yourself, I too will be losing any hope of an afterlife."

  "You are forsaking your soul for him?" I asked, gesturing to William.

  Mr. Friedlein looked horrified. "For the cause. We have the chance to put an end to this war. On the battlefields, brothers are fighting brothers. Men are falling to these creatures.“

  “People.” I put steel into the words to make sure the man remembered. “These people were slaves and have been forced into this.”

  Mr. Friedlein didn’t look me in the eye. “Battles are now slaughtering grounds. What chance do men have against ogres and trolls? These are things…people of legend. This country cannot continue in this way.”

  "So you give yourself for this country?" I asked.

  "What is one soul if thousands of others are saved?"

  It was the same idea I had been clinging to for days. "I've taken many souls in the past week. I hope that yours finds the peace that I shall bring to the Others when this task is complete." I studied every inch of the statue, ignoring William's growing impatience. "This will hold up in battle?"

  "If you are against a Howitzer or Parrott rifle, you will not survive. A Minie Ball or other shot might penetrate the core, but it can be repaired."

  "And swords?"

  "Will have very little effect."

  “The strength of those that I will be fighting against is great.”

  “If I had doubts that it wouldn’t hold, I would not have forsaken my soul or yours.”

  I nodded and inspected the face that would become my own. "How will I go about repairing myself?"

  "Most any material can be used. Take whatever you may have at hand. In the end, I would suggest that you get clay. However, it is said that you may use..." Mr. Friedlein grimaced. "Uh, body parts. But that is unnecessary."

  My stomach clenched. "Clay is easy enough to obtain."

  "If you come to me, I shall repair you."

  "And if the war continues for years to come?" The thought wasn't appealing, but I would endure. When the conflict was over, the Others will be free and left in peace and I will make all these bastards pay for their folly.

  "My heirs shall have the knowledge."

  I didn't look at Mr. Friedlein, but focused on the statue. "You would task your children to forsake their own souls?" The energy of others inside me rattled their own frustrations at the thought.

  "No!" The word broke off as though the man were choking. After a few ragged breaths, he continued. "They will have the knowledge. They will be able to mold the clay or give advice. As will their children, and so on. They will not participate any further in this business." In the end, his tone was resolute.

  I took a moment to shove back any emotion that I, or those inside me, felt. "As you say." A breeze blew through the barn. Realizing that soon, I would no longer feel the breeze on my skin, I took a few moments to bask in the sensation. As it had for days, it felt as though a storm approached.

  Perhaps I was the oncoming storm.

  "How many, uh..." Mr. Friedlein started.

  Even in the dim light, I could tell that he could see my expression. He nervously began twisting his hat in his hands. "Is the exact number of importance?"

  "No, ah...no. But you must understand the more there are, the better chance..." His voice faltered under my gaze.

  "Let's stick with the necessities." My voice was curt. So many Others had been massacred by my hand. Young and old. Powerful and weak. I would not degrade them by reducing them to numbers. I had shamed myself enough.

  "I only meant to confirm that you can, uh, fill it. I can mold the clay. Make it bend and flex as though it were human. It will even move in a rudimentary way. I am unable to give it life, however."

  "It will have life," I said stiffly.

  "The rest is up to you then. You will be in control."

  Drawing my hand over the clay, it felt smooth and cold. "You sound sure for a man who has never witnessed this."

  "Truth is truth. Even if it is not seen with your own eyes," Mr. Friedlein said. He moved in closer to me and spoke in a low voice. "You are doing your country a great honor. Is there anything that you want to be done? You know...with your body."

  I took one last look at my prison. This would be my new body. Our new body. I stepped away from the clay and took one last look at the starry night outside, one last moment to feel the air on my skin.

  Then I turned to Mr. Friedlein. "Burn it."

  He nodded. "Let's get started."

  They would all pay for the actions forced upon the Others, as would I.

  ***

  Lightning lit the room. Had the storm finally arrived?

  My mind was muddled with so many thoughts that had been pressed into me. They were countless. The clay statue stood still before me. The prison cell for those countless voices in my head.

  The Path was still there, but my hold was slipping. Other Paths twisted to reach me. They wanted to be heard.

  There were too many. It was too much. They whispered their stories all at once. I felt them. I knew them.

  They were a part of me.

  Stumbling back, I fell to the ground. I looked up at Einar and he took a step back.

  "Cass! You have to let me go." I could hear Vincent’s voice above the rest.

  My voice caught when I tried to speak. I cleared my throat and tried again.

  I understand now.

  "Cass?" Vincent yelled.

  I could feel his fury, but I couldn't let him go. He didn't know. Einar didn't move when I rose to my feet. I stepped back to Vincent. I couldn't let him go, but I could join him.

  Vincent turned to me only when he found he was still unable to move forward. He seemed to struggle with what to say.

  I knew exactly how he felt.

  While watching Einar, I took Vincent's arm. When he wrapped it around me, I leaned on his shoulder while I watched Einar. The clay man stood, staring into nothing.

  "Einar." When I spoke, Vincent gripped me tighter. Einar didn't look up. "Henry?"

  There was a screech that reverberated through my mind. Vincent gasped and held me protectively until the cry died away.

  We are Einar.

  My energy was fading fast and I was having a hard time picking apart all the voices in my head.

  "What is it that you want? What do you understand now?" I asked.

  My tenuous hold on our protection was starting to break down. If Vincent tried to attack Einar or Einar us, I'm not sure I could hold them apart for long.

  This world has changed.

  "It has."

  Would he attack now? Would we be safe if I stopped reading? Would it be safe to continue reading?

  The lines of color were flooding over the surface of Einar's dark Path. He seemed to be having trouble containing everyone.

  There is much more to learn before I continue.

  "Let it go, Cass," Vincent said.

  I hadn't realized I was leaning so heavily on him.

  "Let it go." Vincent's eyes were on Einar.

  Judging by the hard line of Vincent's jaw, I knew he had a plan, and I was pretty sure it wasn't one I was going to like.

  Einar looked us both over before moving. I will take my leave for the evening.

  Vincent's surprise mirrored my own. Einar came trying to kill us and he was leaving as though an invited guest.

  Einar was out the door before we could say or do anything.

  With
him gone, my choice was clear. Concentrating hard, I moved the Path away. As the shimmering ripples disappeared, I sagged against Vincent.

  He didn't move for a while. Since higher brain functions were mostly on hold for me, I wasn't sure if he was trying to decide what to do, if he was angry, or if it was something else entirely. With my head against his chest, I could hear his steady heartbeat. Closing my eyes, I concentrated on that sound, trying to drown out the confusion in my head.

  "We should call Logan and Rider," Vincent said.

  "Umm hmmm," I murmured, not opening my eyes.

  Vincent guided me over to my bed. "I'll check the house first. Are you good here while I’m gone?"

  The word 'no' almost flew out of my mouth. My insides twisted painfully because I desperately wanted to ask Vincent to stay. Einar was gone, but the voices were still there. I didn't want to be left alone with them.

  Vincent sat down next to me on the bed. When he hugged me to him, I felt him shaking. I wasn't the only one having a difficult time with this.

  After soaking up a few moments of comfort, I tried to sit up. His muscles tensed around me.

  In a voice no louder than a whisper, he said, "I can stay."

  The voices were starting to fade, but that only made me more aware of how utterly exhausted I was. I was trapped in indecision. Did I want him to stay?

  That's a stupid question. Of course I wanted him there. It was Vincent.

  Did Vincent really want to stay? I think he did. At least that is what I wanted to believe.

  Did it matter either way? Another stupid question. It mattered in so many ways.

  My mind twisted. Thinking through something was one thing, understanding the answers I tried to give myself was another thing altogether.

  Vincent relaxed. Maybe because I hadn't moved away?

  I closed my eyes and noticed once again that he wasn't wearing a shirt. My skin was warm everywhere we touched. It pained me knowing that I would have to move away.

  There was a clatter downstairs. Vincent gripped my arm, and our decision was made for us.

  "Stay here," Vincent said. He stood and was across the room before I could protest. His gun was in his hand, but my fuzzy brain couldn't remember if it was still loaded.