“You took the throne,” she said. “The witches defend the thrones at all costs, as natural leaders must be protected.”
Eliza held her gaze.
“Will they send us aid?”
“Yes,” Sienna replied. “I believe they will.”
“Then call for it,” Eliza said. “Jonah, call the Jeffro forces. As many as we can spare.”
“My concern, your highness, is that if Jeffro is left half defenceless, they will storm on there as well.”
“No,” Eliza was defiant “We will defend both fronts. Call the witches now, Sienna. Ask for aid.”
“Aye,” Sienna nearly dropped the tablet and headed out of the large marble hall.
Devon was waiting just outside the door, expecting her to be finished work. Their life together on Natrine was much different from the rigid life the Order had demanded of them. Eliza was a kind mistress, expecting the work to be done when it was due and not much more. Sienna found herself happy, light and free. With her magic blocked, she was finally able to see what life was beyond the Order. With Devon's hand almost constantly in hers, she thought it was beautiful.
Today, though, her eyes were wide with panic.
“I need to call Nathaniel,” she said, as they ducked into a quiet corner. “We're under attack.”
“Mm,” Devon answered. “Somehow, I knew this day would come.”
“So did I,” she said. “We'll be flooded with witches in a few days. It's odd, this is the warrior excitement I always wanted. And now that it's here...”
“Now that it's here, you realize you are happy with your other path,” Devon answered. “Regardless, it will be nice to see our friends. I can call Laura, if you like.”
“Probably needed,” Sienna said, as she dialed through.
Nathaniel looked tired when he answered, his lighting dim. She could make out that he was at the school, in his room, and it was early morning. She hadn't thought about the time change.
“Maestro,” she said. “The day has come.”
“Oy,” Nathaniel replied, sitting up a bit more. “Do you need us to come now?”
“I do,” she said. “You and your Tiro. I'm going to put quest bids up, we'll need several teams.”
“We're ready,” Nathaniel replied. “Prada is stronger than any Tiro here. We will protect you.”
She remembered the days that he said that about her, and smiled.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Just stay safe,” he replied, and she sensed a grin in the darkness.
“Nathaniel...are you ...excited?”
“I am a warrior after all, little one,” he said, as his tablet jiggled with him getting up. “And you always wanted to see me in action.”
“I did,” she answered. “I'm going to put a few calls out. Let me know if there's anything else I can do.”
“Look at us,” he replied. “Working together on intergalactic quests. Did you ever think that would happen again?”
She smiled.
“I didn't,” she said, truthfully. “But we've found a way.”
“There's always a way,” Nathaniel said. “If you believe. I'll see you soon.”
“Bye,” she hung up, passing the tablet to Devon to call Laura. Despite the on coming danger, Devon grinned at her.
“Well, this is exciting,” he said, as he keyed in Laura's number.
“It is,” Sienna drew her knees up as she perched on the window seat. “And I'm ready for it.”
“We're together,” he said. “We're ready for anything. And with you here, we can call in teams in any language. You're magic.”
His choice of words made her smile.
“I didn't use to think I was,” she replied. “Not until you made me feel differently.”
“So, my love,” he said, as the call began to ring. “Are you ready for a new adventure?”
“I am,” she said, as Laura picked up. Like everything in life, it wasn't going to be easy. A year ago, she couldn't believe that she ever would have been happy with this reality. But today, with Devon by her side, and her skills sharp and making a different, she felt happy, and strong. It had taken walking away from her once dream, and from magic, to make her feel like she was indestructible
There was always another path, and she was so glad that she had found it.
***THE END***
The Plague Preview
Chapter 1
“Thank you for calling Medelis Health Insurance. My name is Andi. May I have the spelling of your first and last name?”
“Hayden Pfluke.”
“Thank you. May I have the spelling of your first and last name?”
“Hayden Pfluke.”
I gritted my teeth and forced myself to use my most customer friendly voice. “May I have the spelling of your first and last name?”
“Oh! Yeah.” The consumer continued on actually answering the question, and I did my best not to slam my head onto my desk. My doctor had told me that I had enough skull trauma to last a lifetime, and since he had a degree and I didn’t, I was more inclined to believe his medical opinion.
Thankfully, the rest of the call went more smoothly. The consumer listened as I explained what their vision benefits were and what doctors were in their network. It wasn’t even a five on the calls-from-hell scale and when it was over, I logged out of my phone and headed out.
“Another day, another dollar,” one of my coworkers said as she passed me in the hall.
“Ah yes, dollars. I love selling hours of my life for monetary gain. It’s fantastic.”
She laughed and kept on, but I couldn’t help but sigh. I mean, I knew I was lucky to have a fairly cushy job where I earned twelve dollars an hour, but call center life wasn’t exactly fulfilling. I was eternally grateful that I was gainfully employed, but I couldn’t help but stare out the windows beside my drab, gray cubicle, wishing for something more.
There had to be something more, right?
That was a rhetorical question, of course. No one answered me. Not that I expected anyone to. I’d been through enough therapy as a kid to know not to talk to the voices. Granted, they had faded right around the time I had hit puberty.
I hopped into my car and headed home, making sure to order some fast food that I could wolf down in shame in my cramped room for rent. Once I was inside, I peeled my pants off and collapsed on my beanbag, stuffing my face with some greasy thing or another. Today was one of my only days during the week without classes, and I kind of just wanted to be lazy instead of productive. I knew I should have gone to work out, but I wasn’t really feeling it.
I wasn’t feeling much of anything lately, other than anxiety.
I had periods of insomnia every now and then, and when I finally could sleep, my dreams were plagued with violent and stressful images. Granted, when I woke up, I could only remember faint echoes of discomfort. It didn’t help when your only respite from the world turned into another exercise in awful, and I was beginning to feel it fray at the edges of my psyche.
The food did help, though. All that salt and lipids. I remember girls in high school, who had always looked at me in such horror when I horked down food that they would have been teased for consuming. Thankfully, no one wanted to mess with the chubby redhead who had once dunked a bully head first into a trash can.
At least that hadn’t changed. Sure, it would be nice if I had the model waist and poise that all the magazines touted, but that wasn’t in the cards for me. I was quite tall, just over six feet, with wild, red hair that looked like lightning had just struck me. And I was solid. Not ripped like your average superhero, but that kind of stocky, hardworking body that you saw on farm boys and amazons. I was known among my friends for being just bizarrely strong enough for party tricks, but not enough for any competitions where it mattered.
Thinking of my friends just made me feel more miserable. It seemed like food wasn’t going to cut it. Groaning, I forced myself up to grab a book from my messenger bag, then fell back into m
y squishy chair.
It was a sci-fi thriller, very action oriented, and I had been following the series for a while. I didn’t know why, but something about it always felt comforting to me. It wasn’t like there was a same cast or running plot to get attached to; they were all just standalones in a connected universe. They were short, too, only a couple hundred pages, so I could finish them in a few hours. Not that I had ever had time to read anymore.
The hours passed as I sank into the literary world between my fingers. This particular tale focused on a mooreerie that only had three arms going on to become a multi-world champion fighter. Or at least trying to. Like any good book, there were plenty of plot twists and pitfalls.
When I finally finished the book, it was dark, and I realized I was pretty exhausted. But, there was a certain sense of satisfaction that I had reached the culmination of the fighter’s story. As much as I loved long series, it was sometimes nice to just get in and get out.
I stretched and flipped over the back of the book, which was formatted a bit differently from all the previous novels. This one had an ‘About the Author’ paragraph, and then a picture of her.
She was fairly different looking, with dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and a very high forehead. She had large eyes that were complemented by a generous smattering of freckles that dotted her almost like camouflage.
“Jenna Vellock,” I pondered to myself.
For someone so unique looking, there was something vaguely familiar about her face. Like someone I had known once but hadn’t seen in several years. I stared at it for several long moments, sifting through memory after memory, but came up empty.
Eventually, I shrugged and tossed the book back into my bag. Dragging my butt to the kitchen, I helped myself to a large glass of water, then went about the rest of my nighttime routine. When I finally laid down in bed, I let out a long sigh. Sure, I had my rest for now, but tomorrow was just another day of the same drudgery it always was.
*
A cloud–dark, malevolent, and churning–filled up a chrome hall. Its voice thundered and clawed at my ears.
I looked around in confusion. Where was I? When was I? Everything was impossibly shiny and futuristic-looking, illuminated by highly filtered light.
I was distracted by the voice of someone small next to me. Familiar. Vaguely amphibious.
Gee-Gee!
I reached toward her without question, pulling my childhood friend to my form. The strange force tried to pull her away, but I kept a hold on her. Something dangerous was happening here, and I didn’t want her to be any part of it.
And then, suddenly, we were running down hallways that were much too bright, sliding under a door that slid down from the ceiling like a guillotine.
Just as abruptly as it started, I was spinning away, tumbling through I don’t know what, until I was in another hall and alarms were sounding all around me.
God, it was loud. Too loud. I could barely think. And why was everything so unnecessarily shiny? Like someone had gone a bit too crazy with the highlighter effect in a photo editing software.
My critique of the environment quickly vanished as something slammed into the wall behind me, and I was thrown forward. Right, I should probably pay attention to what was going on.
I scrambled to my feet, looking at the terrifyingly shaped dent in the metal partition that I had been leaning against. My mind tried to place what kind of figure could make a shape like that, but before it could supply an answer, claws ripped through the metal.
I… I should probably run now.
I turned and bolted, only vaguely aware of people shouting around me. Oh, I wasn’t alone.
There were three others with me, but their forms shook and winked out of my vision, like a weak signal on a TV. I couldn’t make out if I knew them or not, but for the moment we all seemed to be running in the same direction and that was good enough for me.
When was the last time I had run? It had been ages. As much as I loved pumping some iron, my soft and jiggly bits hated the inherent bouncing that came with ninety percent of cardio. And yet… I seemed to be racing along just fine.
We sprinted through hallway, after hallway, and the critical side of my mind began to wonder if any of us knew where we were going.
My answer came in the form of us being confronted by another solid door.
I heard more shouts, more orders, and someone rushed to a panel at the side of the entrance. He hooked something up to the square, and punched in something or other, and the door slid open.
Only to reveal several pairs of gnashing jaws on the other side.
“Oh, my god!” I heard myself scream. “Close it! Close it!!!”
The man darted forward to override whatever was happening with the door, but before he could, a too-long arm shot forward, it’s decrepit looking fingers wrapping around his waste and yanking him to the other side of the still-opening door. Although I couldn’t see his face, I certainly saw his blood as it sprayed across the floor.
I screamed. I was pretty sure I was crying as well as I stumbled backwards. But like something out of my worst nightmares, the monsters behind the door surged forward.
We all tried to run, the remaining figures and I, but I didn’t need the sharp smell of wet copper in the air to know that there was no use. I heard screams of pain, followed by the tearing of limbs, until finally those same claws hooked into me and yanked me backwards.
The last thing I saw was teeth… so many teeth…
And as the world faded, I slid into the desk of my statistics class. Already I couldn’t quite remember why I was sweating, or the reason fear was coiled so tightly in my belly.
…God, I hated statistics.
*
I woke up with a start, my heart beating hard enough to star in its own rhythm band. Gasping, I looked to my phone to see it was just five minutes before my alarm went off. Might as well get up and get going.
“Geeze that was a blast from the past.” I hadn’t dreamed of my childhood imaginary friend in ages. Probably…high school, at the latest? And what was with that terrifying second half? No thank you. It did make me wonder what my subconscious was going on about though, to cook up something like that. Sure, every kid had nightmares, but that had been pretty different from anything else I could remember.
Granted, during puberty I did have a reoccurring nightmare that I was a spy whose teeth would fall out at the most inopportune times and cause me to fail missions. So there was that.
Back when I was a kid, I visited her every day. She lived in a very cool world that had a literal butt-ton of water everywhere, and flying cars, and it was super high-tech. Basically, anything that I might have seen in a sci-fi movie got shoved into her existence. She was one of the reasons I was put in therapy by court order after the school counselor and then a social worker raised concerns about my mental health. Which was completely ridiculous, by the way. Kids are strange folk with wild imaginations. I lived a not-exactly cookie-cutter life, and I needed an escape from it all. So, I had an alien friend from the future to help me cope; that didn’t mean I was insane. Or, uh, ‘childhood psychosis bordering on early manifested schizophrenia,’ as the official term was.
I can’t really remember what happened, but all I knew was that, suddenly, my visits to her stopped. One day, I could swing by her world whenever, and then…nothing. A lot of my memories from that time were just faint echoes and swirls of color, however. Severe head trauma tended to do that.
However, I really didn’t have time to get lost in nostalgia. I shoved myself out of bed and headed to the communal bathroom to try to force energy into my body via a hot shower. As long as I didn’t procrastinate, I would have enough time to eat a slice of breakfast pizza I had in the fridge and a banana before I headed to my public speaking class. For once, I had finished my homework, so I wouldn’t be frantically filling out some questionnaire in the hall, and hopefully today would go easily.
But, as I went through the motions o
f getting ready, I couldn’t help but feel a faint sort of melancholy lapping at the edge of my mind. Thinking about ye ol’ days was not putting me into the best of moods. Perhaps, after work, I would stop by the game store and see if I could treat myself. According to my math, I still had twenty-three dollars in my fun budget.
Grabbing my messenger bag, I nodded to myself.
Maybe a little escape was exactly what I needed right now.
Chapter 2
I whistled happily to myself as I crossed the parking lot to my favorite video game store. Normally, I just purchased my stuff online, but there was something particularly therapeutic about browsing physical shelves, picking up cases, and flipping them over to see their backs.
Plus, the employees knew me at this one, and I didn’t have to listen to any of the stereotypical comments about girls into video games, or other girls complain about comments about girls into video games. Not that the other girls were wrong to be upset, but sometimes, I just wasn’t up for a debate on equality, when I just wanted to blow stuff up.
The bell chimed as I walked in, and I debated between hitting up the console or computer sections first. There was no doubt that I could find better deals and more selection for my gaming desktop online, but I still couldn’t help but be drawn to that section first.
I had finally been able to save up for the parts to build my rig just a few months prior, and my beautiful, little, technological child was still new and shiny to me. After lusting after graphic cards and custom cases for years, I didn’t know if I would ever get over the surreal-ness of finally owning my own legitimate gaming computer.
The rows were in alphabetical order, which I always found to be the least helpful. In my opinion–because I had an opinion about everything–it should go by genre, and then be organized alphabetically within the genres, themselves. That way, if I came in wanting a shooter, I could just go to the shooter section. And if I wanted an RPG, I could skip puzzling through a thousand different games and just look only at RPGs.
Unknown Cargo (The Meridian Crew Book 1) Page 67
