The fire crackled around them. Her hair was singeing.
At last Ettoriel raised a hand to touch the wheel of light over his head. “I can’t—” and his voice cracked. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry. I fell from my grace years ago.”
Marley’s initial burst of elation was cut short as the world suddenly went wrong. The wrongness was everywhere. The fires were out of focus. The rings of light were the extrusions of some great Machine that arched over them and climbed into the sky. The watching figures complained bitterly.
Ettoriel’s curse, weakened and deprived of tools by Ettoriel’s own fire shield, finally found a channel and struck one final time. Her Geometric Sight fully activated, showing her the lines of light twisting around her in a vortex. Something struck her like a hammer. The Sight went out. All her shields vanished.
She crumpled to the ground, staring without understanding; angry words emerged from the roaring of the fire as the ring of watching figures grew larger. The HUSH. Focus on the HUSH break the HUSH everything can be done but for the HUSH ETTORIEL THE HUSH free us use them there’s still time DO IT NOW redeem yourself.
But the Machine wheel over the heads of the girls lifted and merged with the one over Ettoriel’s head, turning onto its edge and growing larger. It drifted down so it was level with Ettoriel’s face. “My friend,” he whispered, touching it again. “Help me understand.”
ETTORIEL screamed the watchers. The sky yawned open and a lightning bolt as thick as Marley’s waist struck Ettoriel. For a split second, his entire body was nothing but plasma. Then he and the lightning bolt were gone. The chain he’d been holding, along with the Ragged Blade, dropped to the ground.
Some of the Machine wheel’s symbols changed color, and then it vanished as well.
The restless, angry observers remained. Crimson light began to gather in the center of the circle.
Corbin threw himself down beside Marley, putting one arm over her. “You’ll be okay,” he muttered.
“What about everybody else?” she mumbled. “What about Penny and the girls? What about...” She trailed off. The crimson light was condensing, becoming a humanoid shape with wings. She couldn’t remember what she was saying. She was all out. Of energy. Of words. She’d done it all, but apparently all of Heaven was behind Ettoriel, and what could she do against that?
Out of the corner of her eye, Marley saw Severin the kaiju lift his head. His hands were still in his pockets, but a fierce smile stretched his face. “Are we breaking the Hush after all? Oh, please do.” He stepped forward, and his footfall shook the ground like thunder. “We have suffered terribly under the Hush, haven’t we. The angels and the monsters.”
The crimson, winged entity paused, a half-manifested, misty form. The kaiju continued, “I would so enjoy getting more than a taste of each of you gathered here. A grand council of angels, all agreed! So you just get started with tearing down the Hush, and I’ll finish with the spirit tethers.” And he pulled his hands out of his pockets and opened them. In each palm was a handful of tiny, glittering balls of light.
The crimson figure fuzzed as the circle of observing entities recoiled away. A few of them vanished completely. Severin’s fingers closed over the glittering orbs again. “Oh, come on. It’s been so long. How can I eat you if you run away?”
“Good question,” murmured Corbin in Marley’s ear.
More of the glowing outlines vanished. The crimson figure collapsed into a shower of sparks. Severin paced over to the two remaining figures and leaned toward them, his hands back in his pockets. “Come on,” he said again. “Let’s do this. We can find out what happens if an angel dies during a valence event. Is their name erased from the Sea of Dreams? It’s for science!”
One of the figures spoke, with a voice like an eagle’s cry. “My brothers each worry they will be the one who falls before we erase you from the world, lost one. But I would have—”
The other figure interrupted, with a voice like an underwater song. “This has been an informative experiment already. We have much to discuss. Thank you for revealing yourself as part of the equation, lost one.” Then it vanished, leaving a little swirl of ashes behind.
The final remaining figure flickered belligerently at Severin for a moment, then faded away. The kaiju snickered, and pulled his hands out of his pockets, shaking dissolving specks of light off them. Then he turned toward Marley on the ground. “Nice job with Ettoriel, sweetheart. I’d never have thought your mother was an angel, with you talking dirty like that.”
Marley gagged and threw up on Corbin’s arm. Corbin said, “That's okay. I'm okay with that,” and raised his voice. “Can anyone do anything about the fire? Before it burns us or I’m forced to do something drastic?”
“Faerie magic, that is,” said Severin cheerfully.
Everybody turned to look at Tarn. He’d left Branwyn sitting on the ground next to a huddled Penny as he walked over to where Ettoriel had vanished. Slowly, he bent down and picked up the iron chain from the ground. His hands blistered instantly, but he stared down at it wonderingly. He muttered, “Break the chain.”
Marley sat up and wiped her mouth, prickles running down her spine. “Should we...?” she began uncertainly.
“Yeah,” said Corbin, heaving himself to his feet.
Tarn carried the chain over to Lissa and Kari, who still clutched each other's hands. He knelt down before them. “I’m so sorry I took your guardian, little ones. It was this chain that compelled me. This chain forced me to do it. And it could be used that way again.”
“No,” said Kari flatly. “It couldn’t.” And she touched the chain with her hand.
White light outlined each link. For a moment, everything was frozen. Then, each link in the chain burst, split cleanly into two, and a pile of iron shards fell to the ground at Tarn’s feet. Tarn remained kneeling, his head bowed.
Corbin said, “Did she just...?”
Severin said, “Destroy something that it took dozens of celestials to craft? Oh yes! There’s fun times ahead, kid. I'm pretty sure faeries one-third freed can cause a hell of a lot of chaos.”
“I don’t care,” shouted Kari. “I want my uncle back! Now!”
The fires around them went out, and in the sudden, howling silence, Lissa said, “Nobody else was putting the fires out and it was hot. Was that bad, too?”
“I don’t care!” began Kari again, but the world parted like a curtain beside them, and Zachariah stepped out, looking as though he’d just finished showering and dressing for a day at the office.
“You’re good girls, both of you,” he said, before they double-teamed him.
Tarn stood up, his head still bowed. Marley staggered toward him, and he turned. The smile on his face was as wide and frightening as Severin’s grin had been before. “Finally,” he breathed. “After millennia... finally.” A shudder passed through him, and the faraway look faded from his face. “Thank you, Marley. You were useful in the end. Time for me to go, though. So many things to do! One chain down, two to go.” He looked around until he spotted Branwyn, holding Penny’s head in her lap. “Sweet, inventive Branwyn. I’ll be seeing you later.” Branwyn stuck out her tongue at him, he blew her a kiss, and then—he was gone.
Marley stared at where he was, still trying to process the last few minutes. She’d confronted Ettoriel with his feelings for the twins’ mother. She hadn’t stabbed him. If she’d stabbed him, sacrificed Penny, would Tarn still have been able to free himself? Did she really care right now if faeries had been loosed on the world again? What would they do? Maybe Zachariah would know. Zachariah...
“Marley!” cried Corbin, just as he had when she’d been fighting with Tarn, a lifetime ago when they’d arrived at the wildfire zone. It was so like a memory that she didn’t even dodge as Lullaby’s blade skidded up her back. Then the spear thudded to the ground and Severin whirled past her, holding Jeremy in his arms like he was spinning a dance partner.
Jeremy looked charred. Half his hair
had been burned to the roots, and he was covered in ash and dirt. But his eyes were furious and feral. “I was going to be immortal,” he hissed at Marley. “But you. You and your words... Your lies...” He struggled against Severin’s grip.
Severin’s face was alight. “Charming. I think I’ll take this one. Don’t argue; you owe me.” He whispered something in Jeremy’s ear, and Jeremy’s struggles grew even wilder, his expression more enraged.
Exhausted, Marley said, “I won’t. Take him away, please.” Severin smirked at her, and stepped backward, vanishing behind a world-curtain with his prey.
Marley sat down in the dirt and ashes. It was over. She wanted to find out how Penny and Branwyn were doing, to talk to Zachariah about the twins, to talk to Corbin about the faeries and AT.... But, she thought, she could do that later. There was time. She lay back on the hot ground and looked at the sky, and waited for later.
-epilogue-
Later.
Marley stood at the bay window of the luxurious room in the private hospital she'd ended up in. She still wasn't quite sure how that had happened; many details were fuzzy in the hours immediately following the fight in the fire. She'd walked down the mountainside, but for how long? And she thought she remembered a giant-sized version of Neath... and there'd definitely been a helicopter. And then the hospital, and kind nurses who helped her bathe and dispensed the very nice painkiller that blew away all the aches that had shown up when Corbin lifted his support charm.
Now Neath slept on the foot of her bed. Penny was in the other bed. She wasn't waking up, but the doctors said she was stable and Marley could see they were right. It was enough, for now.
She turned back to the window and looked at the night. The red lines still traced the progression of the fire on the mountains, but it was smaller now. The firefighters, and all the technology and determination they brought to bear, were finally winning.
Branwyn bumped the door open and came in with two paper cups of coffee. She handed one to Marley before going to check on Penny. After smoothing their friend’s hair, she joined Marley at the bay window. "How are you feeling?"
"They gave me the good stuff, so a lot better than I probably should." Marley wrapped her fingers around the warm cup.
Branwyn gave her a keen-eyed look. "I didn't mean your aches and pains."
Marley sighed. "I know. I'm not the same as I was, you know? The thing behind the anxiety is real. It's not just me being... broken. Or if it is, it's something I inherited."
"You're more than what you inherited, though." Branwyn shrugged. "Obvious, but still true."
A little laugh bubbled out of Marley. "So I've heard. I've got to learn how to handle it. I can't just bury it again. But... I think I can."
Branwyn nodded, as if this was the answer she'd been expecting. Then she looked around the room. "So. All this really happened, eh? Wonder if it will help with the rent somehow."
Marley frowned. "Both Corbin and Zachariah have talked to me about that. Corbin said Senyaza would want to talk to me, and they'd pay me for my time. He said they might know something about my birth mother. And Neath the magic cat—which, did I mention, she apparently made? If I can trust what a faerie tells me. Oh, and Senyaza wants to dig into the twins' descent. They like to track bloodlines, I guess.” She shook her head. “And Zachariah wants..." She trailed off and stared at her coffee for a moment, until Branwyn touched her arm. "Zachariah wants to pay me to keep on protecting the kids. Be their nanny or governess or something. Their bodyguard." She met Branwyn's gaze, and said fiercely, "I promised them I'd never let them go. And I won't. I fought for them, I saved them, I know it's stupid but they're mine. I mean, I don't mind if they're his, too. Not that much, anyhow. But getting paid by him to take care of them seems... wrong. He used me once already."
"Mmm," said Branwyn, noncommittally. "If you do manage to talk yourself into accepting mere wages, go for the bodyguard bucks. They make more."
Marley tried to scowl at her, but another tiny laugh crept past instead. Then she slumped against the chair beside the window. Branwyn raised her cup in a grave toast. "By the way... I did want to ask you about Zachariah and Corbin. I'm guessing Zachariah isn't so high on the Potential Date list right now. But what's up with you and Corbin?"
Marley gave her a blank look. Corbin? But he—realization dawned. Then a slow flush crept up her cheeks. His motives are as selfish as yours, sweetheart, the kaiju had said. "We barely know each other. And it's not like we've had time to do anything but run and shout at each other." But she remembered the warmth she'd felt in his presence
Branwyn looked pleased. "Good, good. Don't rush into anything just because he saved your life or whatever."
"I saved his life, actually. AT and I." And the scowl returned. AT. Corbin had said she'd be fine and it would all work out, but would it? Her gaze went to Penny again. She realized suddenly that it wasn't all over. She wasn't going back to her old life, with a bit of additional babysitting. Everything had changed, and she could make a difference to more than just a couple of people now. At least, she could if she didn't run away.
"So," said Branwyn, staring at her reflection in the window. "That was some magnificent bullshit you told Corbin and the angel, about the angel causing his prophecy to happen." She looked directly at Marley. "Did you believe it?"
Marley hesitated and then said, “I don’t believe in prophecies. Someone told me, ‘Men have always considered females with unusual power harbingers of the end.' And I believe that. I’ve seen that in books, in history. Women and children. Anybody different, really. Everybody from the old order always thinks it’s the end of the world when unexpectedly powerful people show up. Those girls will light a fire. I’d like them to be able to decide what kind of fire they light.”
"All right," said Branwyn. She sipped her coffee calmly. "I talked to Corbin while you were resting." Marley looked at her in alarm, and she added, "Not about you. It's been a big day for me, too. I wanted to find out more about the faeries, and if they'd be showing up again—"
The lights flickered. Shadows moved around the room, then vanished. Neath raised her head from where she was curled on Marley's bed. Her ears flattened and she rose to her feet, her tail twitching. Marley clutched Branwyn's arm, but before terror could really get a foothold, Neath stalked across the bed to the nightstand and peered at something there, then sat down again and began to wash herself.
Hesitantly at first, then firmly—not running away—Marley went to see.
On the nightstand was a glass bubble, like one she'd seen twice before. And it was perched on top of torn-edged piece of paper, upon which an elegant hand had scrawled in silver ink: For Branwyn.
Marley stared at it. All the old desire to protect Branwyn flared, then faded away like a dying spark when she remembered Branwyn charging from her prison with an iron bar. This faerie had no idea what he was in for. So, in a voice choked with laughter, she said, “Action Girl, it's for you!”
Branwyn narrowed her eyes. Then she smiled and reached toward the note. Marley moved out of her way.
The End...
For a preview of Branwyn's story, turn the page.
Hi!
Thank you for reading Matchbox Girls. If you'd like to know when my next book is available, you can sign up for my mailing list at www.dreamfarmer.net, follow me on Twitter at @chrysoula or like my Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/chrysoula.tzavelas.
Reviews help books and readers find each other. If you want to share your thoughts with others, I welcome all reviews, positive and negative. It's incredible how much they matter.
Finally: Matchbox Girls is the first book in the Senyaza Series chronology. The next book, Infinity Key, takes place a month later, and follows Branwyn. For a preview, turn the page....
While her best friend is pulled into the supernatural underworld, Branwyn isn’t about to sit on the sidelines. Unfortunately, Branwyn is decidedly mortal, and in the supernatural underworld, humans are weak and
helpless, no better than toys, tools and prey. But she isn’t having any of that. Branwyn wants to face the world on her own terms, mortal or not.
When she strikes a bargain with an imprisoned faerie, Branwyn thinks she’s found the solution. He’ll teach her magic and she’ll use that magic on his behalf. It’s a great deal, until she discovers what the faeries really want from her: there’s a door that only she can open…
Infinity Key
“What can you do?” he asked. “What can you do that all my people cannot? After all, you’re only human.”
He didn’t mean to be cruel. It was the truth. Her best friend was dying, and there was nothing she could do. In a world where angels and demons and monsters and faeries waged secret wars, what were humans but toys to be fought over?
She didn’t like that at all.
*
Marley threw an agonized look at the clock as she dragged a brush through her hair. “I’m not going to have time to visit Penny today.”
Branwyn curled her legs under her on a tattered couch, watching her friend hurry with wry amusement. Marley's hair already gleamed like polished oak. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll go and tell her all about your double date.”
Marley froze mid-stroke, looking aghast. “Going to lunch with two men is not a double date.”
“Well, they both want to date you. It’s practically the same thing.” Branwyn suppressed a smile as she watched the flush creep over Marley’s face.
Matchbox Girls Page 28
