She'd read my mind, I think. Wait a minute.
I interrupted her. "I killed a what?"
She waived a dismissive hand. "Pointless now. I will pay you the one million for the stone, Mr. Iceman."
One of the others said, "Mistress, The Soul's Eye must be secured or returned to its home. It has seen the souls of two Innocent's and may no longer be stable. Already it has cloned itself. As a result, we may never be able to use its evil foresight again. Let's go home and separate the two of them there."
I don't know what that shit was about, but Thingy's name wasn't Soul's Eye. Not only that, I was keeping it. Twelve-gauge buckshot and a blown away follower made my point clear. Now, with three rounds left against Biddy and the three with her, shit was even.
Strangely, though, the others hadn't moved a muscle. They stood there, hooded with their hands clasped over their bellies, facing me. I couldn't see their faces for their hoods, but I could see Biddy clearly, and now her hands were flickering with a white glow.
Further freaking me out.
"Like many before you, you were given a job to do because of your historically professional performance. Yet, you failed. Not only me, you failed yourself. Nonetheless, Mr. Iceman, killing Mr. Benson was a non-issue. Trying to kill my Flock, however, that must be appropriately rejoined."
Trying to? I had put 12 gauge buckshot in that mutha … "Oh shit!"
The druid got up.
I looked back at Biddy, which I shouldn't have done, because Biddy's hands glowing white, steadily now.
When Biddy flicked her fingers, something white-hot slammed into my chest. It didn't move me. It just impacted there, hurt like the dickens, and stole my wind. I slumped a little and the shotgun fell to the floor. "Mine," I winced.
Biddy cackled like a … uh … like a Witch? Yeah. Just like a Witch.
When I looked back at her and her followers, all of them had glowing hands. They were humming together, too. My asshole puckered involuntarily and I couldn't smell it anymore. Based on what Biddy had done to me with those glowing hands once already, I knew this shit was going to hurt bad, and I didn't have the strength to grab the shotgun. Still, I raised my head and said, "Mine."
***
I don't know how long I had been out. Thankfully, though, the pain was gone, or maybe I was numb from the cold environment I was stranded in. Whatever Biddy and her people did to me, I was glad it was over. Maybe they had left me for dead, thinking I would die up here in Alaska from exposure or something. They be right, too, if I didn't hurry up and find me some shelter. First, I had to figure out where in the hell I was.
Obviously, I was in a cave. Overhead, I saw gigantic icicles. In fact, all around was a sheet of ice. Everything shined smoothly, too. It was also as bright as daylight, which was strange as hell, considering that I couldn't see an opening. All I could see was a long and narrow, icy corridor. I could faintly hear voices, too.
"What the …" They got me tied down? No. Not tied down. Something held my whole body in place, but not at various points. It was like I was being pressed onto a table by … hell, I didn't know what it was. I couldn't move a muscle.
"Hello, Mr. Iceman. It's comforting to us that you've regained consciousness."
Looking to my left, as only my eyes could move, I couldn't see Biddy. Somehow, though, I could feel the old sack near me. She wasn't the only one either.
"Mistress, may I do the honors? After all, he did shoot me."
"You may, Shelly."
Apparently, the druid I shot was a teenager, or just looked really young. Cute, too .
"Mr. Iceman … hold on a second." She stopped talking and I could feel her hand in my pant pocket. When she pulled her hand back, she held him up. "There it is. Say hi, Mr. Iceman."
She's got Thingy! "Give it back, you little bitch! You give that back!"
"My goodness, Mr. Iceman. What is the connection here? Why are you so attached to this gem?" Biddy asked.
I put in the work, I did the job, I made it out, and dammit, that spoil is my payment. "It's mine!"
"Release him and pay him."
I didn't recognize that voice. It was big, though. That's the only way I can describe it. Not deep or Barry White-ish, but huge as hell. It was coming from across the room, I think. "Who are you?" I demanded.
"Shut up, snack. My meals do not engage me on a personal level."
What? This sumbitch has got to be out of his … Holy shit!
From out of nowhere, dude was looking down at me with red eyes and long-ass, I mean, get-the-fuck-outta-here-long-ass-fangs. "Dracula?"
"Not quite."
"D-dude, you ain't gotta … Nah. I ain't buying this shit. Y'all freaky bastards are way too early or way too late for Halloween. Druids and Dracula? Really? Y'all kiss my black ass and let me off this damn table!" I wasn't buying into this bullshit.
Fang-face smiled at me and that's when it all got real. This cat had more teeth than nature allows. All of them were razor sharp and longer than my Johnson, too. Homie's whole face got big as hell and his mouth protruded like …
"It's my way or no way, Mr. Iceman"
What way is that? "What the hell, man? Fuck it. Take Thingy back. Y'all can keep it and the money. Just let me outta here!"
Biddy said, "We intend to do just that, Mr. Iceman. You'll have to wait, however. It is daytime and you can't move about until after sunset. Before we release you, though, there are some things you need to know. King Perry, here, joined us and released your soul by making you like him. Because you had The Soul's Eye in your possession during your conversion, it has captured your spent soul and we have a far greater tool, as a result. Unfortunately, your predecessor fought us and we could not use him. You, however, you are fantastic. While we could have found good candidates anywhere, the effectiveness we required could only come from one whose underlying essence is fully warped by the Mortal Sin. That is to say, Mr. Iceman, the hidden truth of your character is Greed. Greed that has made you steal and kill for your personal gain. Your Deadly Sin has finally completed our collection. Along with Gluttony, Wrath, Envy, Lust, Pride, and Sloth, we have the gamut of Souls Eyes to further my Coven's ambitions. But let's stick to your hidden truth; Greed. I think it was addressed best by former New York Congresswoman, Shirley Chisholm. 'When morality comes up against profit, it is seldom that profit loses.' You see, Mr. Iceman, because of you, me and my followers have profited greatly. If you are wise, you will have profited, as well."
Okay. I know who Shirley Chisholm was and all that. Know about all them Deadly Sins, too. But I was stuck on this King Perry, shit. What the hell kind of king had teeth like this dude, assuming that he's King Perry. I looked at the monster and he changed back, looking all human-like and shit.
Now, not only could I not smell my ass, I couldn't smell anything. I could sense stuff, but smell? Not a chance. I was sensing the hell out of a bunch of people in the room that I couldn't see, too. Like they were pressing against my skin without touching me. Freaky.
Biddy said, "King Perry, release him, please."
"As you wish, Mistress Somersby."
Just like that, I could move again. Energy like I'd never known reverberated throughout my body. It was like I was made of some brand new, super-duper, powerful shit. Now, not only could I move, I felt like I could fuckin' fly. That's how I came off that table, too. In a blur, I ran against the far wall, looking back at more than twenty people. Only the Dracula cat wasn't dressed like a druid. He was wearing a hot-ass suit, lookin' spiffy like a male model.
He pointed at a suitcase beside the ice-table they had me on. That was weird, too, because I wasn't even cold. I wasn't hot either. I was like … hell, I can't explain it.
Dude said, "That case contains one million dollars, Mr. Iceman. You'll need that to begin your new life. We have confiscated all of your former holdings and you will need to find a new place to call home."
Greed? New life? Thingy with my soul?
Speaking of Thingy, the
young trick had my friend in her hand, staring at it like a child at Christmas. Eyes full of wonder and shit.
"Gimme that!" Thingy was mine and I wanted him back.
It was like I hadn't said a word. Everybody turned and walked out of the ice-cave-room-place, totally ignoring me. They turned their backs and everything. It was cool, though. After Biddy and her people had done whatever they did to me, I didn't want any more of that. I did follow them, though. That's after I grabbed the case. They can call it greed, but I call it getting paid.
Just outside of the room we were in was a long staircase and I was the last one up. The place was dark as hell, but there were candles placed about that gave off just enough light. Hell, after blinking a couple of times, I didn't need those candles. I could see everything perfectly. Freaky.
And talk about macabre. This place was sci-fi meet horror-type shit. Swords, pentagrams – eyes, fingers, balls, toes, and all other kinds of shit were in jars all over the place. On the walls were shields and gothic paintings, too. No furniture, but in the middle of the room was an altar.
"Where in the hell are we?" I asked.
Some voice said, "Church."
"Humph. You mutha fuckas are sick. This ain't no church."
I suddenly saw a beam of daylight down the hall to my right. At the same time, King Perry shrieked like a girl and disappeared. How he did that, I don't know. Why? Well, that shit was a mystery, too. Me? I saw a way out.
I checked the case in my grip and got closer to the kid holding Thingy. She was still marveling at it and I saw my chance. Something was tugging at my mind, saying, "don't do it," but there was no way in hell I was staying here with these freaks.
The beam of light grew larger and I could only imagine that it was a door to the outside being opened in another room. This was it. Against my better senses, and they were heavy as hell, I snatched Thingy and made a dash. I had never moved like this before. I mean, like, you know, ghostlike fast.
Daylight.
Something about the sun seemed to make me want to scream like girl. It was weird as hell. For a split second, I'm thinking, I should slow my roll and try to figure some things out. Uh, no. Bitty would probably cook my guts or some shit. That King Perry cat wasn't too cool either.
Turning left at the end of the hallway, I squinted my eyes involuntarily, blew by another druid, and was loose like a scalded dog, yo. Off the porch and blazing down the street like a freed slave, money and Thingy with me.
"Where in the hell are we?" I asked.
Some voice said, "Church."
"Humph. You mutha fuckas are sick. This ain't no church."
I suddenly saw a beam of daylight down the hall to my right. At the same time, King Perry shrieked like a girl and disappeared. How he did that, I don't know. Why? Well, that shit was a mystery, too. Me? I saw a way out.
I checked the case in my grip and got closer to the kid holding Thingy. She was still marveling at it and I saw my chance. Something was tugging at my mind, saying, "don't do it," but there was no way in hell I was staying here with these freaks.
The beam of light grew larger and I could only imagine that it was a door to the outside being opened in another room. This was it. Against my better senses, and they were heavy as hell, I snatched Thingy and made a dash. I had never moved like this before. I mean, like, you know, ghostlike fast.
Daylight.
Something about the sun seemed to make me want to scream like a girl. It was weird as hell. For a split second, I'm thinking, I should slow my roll and try to figure some things out. Uh, no. Biddy would probably cook my guts or some shit. That King Perry cat wasn't too cool either.
Turning left at the end of the hallway, I squinted my eyes involuntarily, blew by another druid, and was loose like a scalded dog, yo. Off the porch and blazing down the street like a freed slave, money and Thingy with me.
Suddenly, I started feeling hotter than hell. For real, though. I was actually on fire.
# # #
Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall.
—Proverbs 16:18
III. PRIDE
Queen of the Black Dragons
by
Vickie Adair
From her throne in the great cavern of the Ice Caves, she listened, staunch in her own regal splendor and power, while her first hatchling challenged her decision in open court. Though extremely irritated with him, she couldn't help but admire his strength and beauty, fitting for one of her hatchlings. He was much like her physically, larger than most of the Blacks and muscular, his scales shining an almost blue hue in their darkness, the tips of his wings and horns a deep, violent red. He was not quite as beautiful as her, but she was proud of the extreme attractiveness of all her hatchlings.
"Your Highness," said her son and Warlord, Fastarr, his own irritation evident in his voice that echoed through the massive chamber that could hold a thousand dragons in cold spaciousness, "we cannot make such a challenge without more information. We are still down to just over a thousand adults, so this could be genocide for the Blacks."
She looked out into the chamber at the three hundred adult Black Dragons of the court, standing tense, listening intently to the exchange between her and her son. What she said next would weaken or strengthen support for her plan, not that any command from the monarch could be disobeyed, but a happy populace is much easier to control.
"I understand that some of you are fearful," she said, putting scornful emphasis on the word fearful, watching bodies go rigid with indignation, "but we do not plan an open attack, only random attacks on small isolated groups of the human dragon riders and the spineless Blues, Greens, and Reds who let humans be their masters.
"The other dragons," she continued, "and the humans think we were all destroyed three hundred years ago when we came here, so to the humans we should exist only in legend, and to the other dragons, we exist only in memory. Nothing will survive any of our attacks, and no one will suspect us. We can eliminate thousands, before we ever challenge them openly, by using surprise attacks on isolated groups of five to ten dragons with riders against a sudden thirty of us unencumbered."
Enough of this, she thought as she saw Fastarr move to speak again. She rose and roared her fire toward the distant frozen ceiling; drops of water from the ice ceiling began falling on those gathered.
"So it is burned in fire! So it will be done! We begin planning our strategy tomorrow," she said and walked, her head held proudly high, out of the great cavern toward her chambers. As she walked from the chamber, she listened to her subjects chanting, "Fire and power to Queen Genette! Fire and power to Queen Genette!"
Yes, she thought, she was Genette, the most beautiful, brilliant, and powerful dragon to ever live. To war it would be, and she would rule the world.
~*~
Osane watched her brother Fastarr, his wings quivering in anger, move swiftly out of the great cavern and followed him through the lit tunnels to his quarters. She entered behind him and saw him lower his beautiful, sleek, black body and curl himself onto the huge smoothed boulder in the center of his cavern. He looked her in the eyes as he lowered himself. She did not speak.
When he was totally settled, he said, "Osane, one fight a day with family is enough. I've already had my fight with my mother and my Queen today; I don't want to argue the opposite extreme with my sister."
She felt a tightening in her chest; she didn't want to argue with Fastarr, either. She had loved him and looked up to him as hero and brother since she had first broken out of her egg and seen him there, peering around their mother, his eyes huge and excited. She knew he loved his whole family and that she pushed him to take sides, to side with her against their mother.
"I'm sorry, Fastarr, for feeling like I have to put you in this position," she said quietly, "but I have to give you facts that you don't know and explain how I got the information. I'm not arguing with you now, just confessing so that you have all the information you need."
&
nbsp; "Let it rest. When Mother dies, I'll be your Warlord, and you can command me as you will. Are you so eager to take Mother's power that you can't let us live in peace until she dies?" He looked tired and sad as he spoke.
Her breath rushed in, in an involuntary gasp. "I don't want Mother's throne ever, Fastarr. I never have. But, you won't have the peace you seek if you wage war on the humans and all the other dragons. The other dragons not only outnumber us but will fight to the death to stop us from annihilating the humans, and the humans are not the easy prey that Mother thinks."
"And just what do you base these assumptions on?" her brother asked with his eyes raised.
She looked away from her brother, around the walls of his cavern so similar to her own. She loved these Ice Caves with a passion almost as great as her passion for her species, especially Rafe. "It's not an assumption; Rafe told me."
"Osane! You betrayed us to the Warlord of the Red Dragons! Why? How could you do such a thing? Mother will have you executed. You know that, don't you?" He rose swiftly from his boulder. "We have to think of a story for you so that no one ever knows it was you who betrayed us. I, however, must let Mother know that we won't have the element of surprise that she thinks because the Reds will know it's us after the first attack."
"She knows that the other dragons know we are out here and that they've always known. She knows, just like all the other dragon Queens, that we are going extinct as a species. That's how we wound up in the Ice Caves. When the other Queens made the decision to let their subjects know that within a few thousand years the last dragon would die, Mother went to war with the humans and then with them, even though we made up only one-fourth the dragons, and then she had us retreat so far north that we had to learn to live in caves of ice."
"And you believed this outlandish story from Rafe? Did it never occur to you that he might be lying to get you to betray your own mother?" Fastarr asked with anger in his voice.
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