Death's Hand

by N. P. Martin

  "I don’t own a bikini top," she said.

  "Maybe you should get one then."

  "If you want to gaze upon this body, Corvin, you only have to ask."

  "You’re such a floozy, D."

  She elbowed me in the ribs as we entered the shop. "I’m not the one who throws himself at any girl who waves themselves in his face."

  I burst out laughing, then stopped when I noticed a few people in the shop giving us disapproving looks. "Not everyone," I said, keeping my voice down as I picked up a few of the newspapers from the stand. "Just the ones I like."

  "You must’ve loved mine then. You were balls deep in it for long enough."

  I smiled. "You know I did."

  As we walked to the counter, a middle-aged woman in a summer dress gave us a dirty look as she shook her head at us.

  "What?" Dalia said to the woman. "You don’t like that kind of thing?"

  "Jesus, D," I said, wincing. "You’re going to get us lynched."

  She stared after the woman as she left the shop. "Looking at me like that," she said. "I should—"

  "Yeah, D, I get it. Let’s just get the papers and go."

  The young girl who was serving behind the counter kept looking at Dalia like she was her hero or something, as if she had never met anyone quite like her, which I could pretty much guarantee she hadn’t.

  "How do you stick them?" Dalia asked the girl when she noticed her staring.

  "Who?" the girl asked shyly.

  "All of these stuck-up tourists. I’d have them all imprisoned in their own darkness by now if I worked here."

  The girl just looked at Dalia dumbly, as if she didn’t know what Dalia was talking about.

  "Don’t listen to her," I said to the shop girl. "She just hasn’t had her morning coffee yet."

  Dalia snorted. "It’ll take more than coffee for me to like those sun-bathing mother—"

  "Yes, right, she gets the idea," I said, cutting her off and steering her out of the shop.

  As we walked back to the car, Dalia stared over her shoulder at the sitting tourists outside the pub, most of whom had angry looks on their faces by now, probably having heard of Dalia’s disgraceful language inside the shop. Then, before we reached the car, there was a loud scream as if someone had just witnessed something horrible. As I stopped and looked behind me, I saw the woman from the shop—Dalia’s nemesis—standing there pulling her hair out as she continued to scream uncontrollably while everyone else stood around her in a panic. Shaking my head, I said, "What did you do, D?"

  Dalia had a smirk on her face as she got inside the car. "I just gave her a little glimpse of her worst fear, that’s all."

  Sighing, I started the car and prepared to leave the village before we really did get lynched. "Jesus, D, I can take you nowhere…"

  When we got back to the rental cottage, I made us coffee and we sat inside at the small kitchen table as we started reading through the newspapers.

  "This place is boring," Dalia said as she scoured one of the papers. "Nothing happens in it."

  I smiled and shook my head. "That’s the way most people like it in this part of the world. Are you missing the big smoke already?"

  "Not at all. I’m actually enjoying being here, despite the circumstances, that is." She smiled softly. "I’m enjoying being with you."

  We stared at each other for a moment as we seemed to share some kind of longing to be together again, which Dalia appeared to feel more than me. I loved Dalia to bits, but we had been just friends for so long now I wasn’t sure if I could go back to being with her in that way. Dalia seemed to sense this herself as her smile became plaintive and she looked away. I continued staring at her a moment longer, feeling slightly bad now, but I said nothing and eventually went back to reading again. Both of us sat in silence for a long while as a palpable tension arose, a tension that we both keenly felt but which neither of us particularly wanted to deal with at the moment. I was therefore glad when I came across something of interest in the Southern Star, West Cork’s local rag. "Here’s something," I said. "Dublin tourist reported missing from Skibbereen. That’s not too far from here. It’s also about twenty minutes from Glandore and the Druid Circle."

  "What does the report say?" Dalia held her coffee while she stared at the paper.

  "A thirty-three-year-old woman from Dublin has been reported missing after she disappeared three days ago. Apparently the woman was last seen walking near a local beach in the early evening. Her husband is reported to have turned around for a moment and when he turned back his wife was gone."

  Dalia raised her eyebrows. "Sounds suspicious."

  I nodded. "Someone disappearing so suddenly? Smells like Fae to me."

  "And you know all about what Fae smells like."

  Laughing, I shook my head at her. "Are you feeling frustrated or something?"

  "It’s all this talk of death," she said. "It just makes me want to have sex. Is that weird?"

  "Not at all, I always get a hard-on when the end of the world is nigh."

  She reached out and felt my crotch suddenly. "Liar."

  "I can’t believe you just did that, and you can remove your hand any time."

  Putting slightly, she pulled her hand away. "I’m sorry, since becoming… what I am, I have difficulty controlling my urges."

  "Your urges?"

  "Yeah, my urges."

  "Well, try to keep your urges in check, at least until we find your friend."

  She turned around in her chair and went back to reading the newspaper in front of her. "I doubt she’s my friend anymore."

  "So you don’t think you’ll be able to talk her out of what she’s doing if we find her?"

  Dalia shook her head. "I seriously doubt it. I left her behind, remember?"

  "You didn’t have much choice."

  "I could’ve stayed there, in the Otherworld."

  "What for? Sorcha was locked up anyway, wasn’t she?"

  She nodded. "Yes."

  "Well then, there was nothing you could do to help her. I’m sure she’ll understand that."

  Dalia just stared at me. "You really don’t know us Fae, do you?"

  "I know you."

  "Okay, fine. So let’s say I was the one locked up in that castle, and you left me there to rot. How do you think I would feel toward you?"

  "You’d probably want to kill me."

  She nodded. "Exactly. Talking Sorcha down is not an option."

  "So what are our options? Detain her?"

  "Or kill her."

  "You would really kill her?"

  She shrugged one shoulder. "If I had to."

  I stared at her a moment. "Killing someone isn’t easy."

  "You killed that elf, Iliphar."

  "He wasn’t someone I used to call a friend, plus he killed my mother. And even at that…"

  "What?"

  "I feel like… I don’t know, like I’ve stained my soul or something."

  "My soul is not like yours."

  "How do you know?"

  "It just isn’t. Half my humanity was taken away, replaced by Faery magic. I doubt you would even see a stain on my soul."

  "I beg to differ," I said, staring at the newspaper again. "You’d still feel it."

  Sighing, Dalia said, "Let’s just find her first. We can play things by ear after that."

  I nodded, satisfied for now. "Let’s keep checking the papers, see if anything else turns up."

  Over the next half hour or so, we read through all four newspapers, finding reports on five more missing persons: a farmer who disappeared five days ago outside Skibbereen; a young tourist girl from up North who vanished four days ago; an older woman who was last seen three days ago in her home in Church Cross; a man who was out walking his dog; and another tourist last seen on a local forest trail. Tearing out the reports, we laid them on the table. "So do you think these are all her?" I asked Dalia, who nodded slowly.

  "Of course," she said. "How many people would usually go miss
ing around here anyway, and in such a short space of time?"

  "That’s what I was thinking, although the police haven’t said much about it. They obviously don’t see the disappearances as being related."

  "It’s too much of a coincidence. It has to be Sorcha."

  "There’s still four victims unaccounted for, assuming she’s been plucking one a day since her escape, which I’d say she has. I mean, she wants to end the world, so why wait, right?"

  "That’s what I was thinking too. The other victims may not have been reported as missing yet, or they have and the papers haven’t reported them yet." She stared down at the cuttings. "Either way, we should still have enough to go on. It’s pretty clear she’s operating in this general vicinity."

  "So where does that leave us?" I said as I stared at the reports. "They all seem to be in the same general area around Skibbereen, but even at that, there’s still quite a distance between each of the sites. How is she getting around? I doubt she’s driving."

  "She’s teleporting."

  I raised my eyebrows. "Fae can do that?"

  Dalia nodded. "The more powerful ones can, and like I said, Sorcha was powerful."

  "So why didn’t she just teleport out of her prison cell?"

  "Who says she didn’t? Sorcha didn’t teleport when I was there, but there’s nothing to say she didn’t learn it eventually."

  "I’m surprised Hedrema didn’t curb her powers more."

  "Again, she probably did, but knowing Sorcha she found a way around whatever restrictions Hedrema placed on her."

  "This Sorcha sounds very strong-willed," I said. "Like she’s going to be hard to stop."

  Dalia stood up and stretched slightly. "Make no mistake, she will be."

  "Maybe we should just sic Hedrema on her when we find her… if we find her."

  "No." She shook her head emphatically. "I wouldn’t do that to her."

  "To Sorcha? Why not? As long as she’s stopped—"

  "I have to give her a chance, I owe her that much."

  "And when she inevitably tells you to fuck off?"

  "Then we deal with her ourselves."

  I would’ve preferred the other option, but I wasn’t about to tell Dalia that. This was obviously personal for her, as Hedrema knew it would be when she summoned Dalia here, and as Dalia had backed me against Iolas to the bitter end, I was sure as shit going to do the same for her.

  To the bitter end.

  7

  Around early afternoon, we decided to leave the cottage so we could go and investigate the areas where the disappearances took place. They were the only leads we had to go on, so we were hoping to get at least some idea of where Sorcha could be, although to be honest our prospects seemed bleak. The radius we had to cover was large, and consisted mostly of rugged terrain that stretched for miles along the coast and further inland where there were also great swathes of forest. As it was highly unlikely that Sorcha had just checked herself into a hotel, that meant she was holed up in the wilderness somewhere according to Dalia. She was Fae after all, and therefore used to living in nature. There was also the fact that she was keeping herself all but invisible, given that Hedrema and the other Fae were still trying to find her as well. And to top it off, she could apparently teleport, so if by some miracle we did manage to locate her, she would probably just vanish somewhere else.

  "What do we know about these Shadow Dwellers?" I asked Dalia as I pulled over to the side of the narrow road for the umpteenth time to let yet another car full of tourists squeeze by.

  "Why?" Dalia asked, looking at me through her dark shades.

  "I don’t know, I suppose I just want to know what we’re in for if we fail to stop Sorcha."

  Dalia stared at me a moment. "Well, imagine Cthulhu and all the Ancient Ones and all of their inbred spawn rose up from the Depths so they could make this world and the Otherworld their new home. Imagine that and you might get somewhere close to knowing what an invasion of Shadow Dwellers might be like."

  I shook my head, wishing I’d never asked as all sorts of images came into my head of colossal creatures who devoured everything in their path, including the very light from the sun. It was depressing to think about, and even more depressing that the odds of such a thing happening were better than good. If I was a betting man, which I’m not, my money would have to go on Sorcha and the Shadow Dwellers she would ultimately release.

  "Maybe we should get some help with this," I said as we drove along the coast, captivated by the spectacular sea views despite the heavy mood inside the car.

  "Help from who?"

  "I don’t know, Monty maybe?"

  "And what’s he going to do, lure her in with card tricks?"

  I almost laughed. "Monty has skills and you know it."

  "Yeah, he has, with technology and conjuring, two skills we aren’t exactly in need of right now."

  "So what skills do we need then?"

  "We have me," she said. "I know Sorcha better than anyone, I know how she thinks."

  "You did know her, you mean? She’s probably changed."

  "That’s possible, but I doubt she’s changed that much." She turned her head and stared out the window at the passing rocky landscape. "There’s no time to be calling in any cavalry. I just need a little time to assimilate, and then I should be able to track her."

  "I hope you’re right, for all our sakes."

  As we were coming up on a junction, something odd happened, causing me to stare at the windshield to make sure I wasn’t imagining it. "Is that…"

  "Rain drops," Dalia finished, taking her shades off and frowning as I was at the large drops of water splashing onto the glass and then the roof of the car as they increased in number.

  "How the hell can it be raining on a day like this?"

  By the time I stopped the car at the junction, the rain had increased in ferocity, and soon it felt like there was a deluge coming down on us. Then lightening flashed and a moment later a huge crack of thunder rattled the old car.

  "This can’t be right," Dalia said. "This has to be…"

  "Sorcha," I finished.

  No sooner had I said her name when a figure floated down just in front of the car. As I stared through the windshield in amazement, I saw a girl in her late twenties, with very long dark hair that billowed wetly out around her as the storm she wrought continued to rage. The black and white dress she wore seemed tattered and frayed at the ends, the thin material pulled taut against her curvaceous body by the wind. Floating there in front of the car, she looked like a Banshee, or some crazy runaway from the local nuthouse. I also couldn’t help but notice the blood stains on her dress, which only added to her menacing appearance. Her eyes were dark and firmly fixed on me. All I could do was stare back, caught in her strangely hypnotic glare. I was glad when she finally switched her gaze to Dalia, her anger appearing to rise as she did.

  Dalia stared back, saying nothing. She seemed even more distressed than I was.

  "What do we do?" I whispered.

  "Nothing," Dalia said. "No magic. She’ll kill us if you do."

  "That’s right," Sorcha shouted. "I will kill you… both of you." Her gaze on Dalia intensified, forcing Dalia to look away.

  Despite the rain, I wound the window down a little. "You have to stop this!" I shouted out over the noise of the storm.

  Sorcha’s response was to make a bolt of lightning strike the road just inches from the car, causing me to jump back in fright. Satisfied that she had silenced me, she then turned her attention back to Dalia. "So the Queen calls and you come running," she said, then shook her head in sheer disgust. "Well, you’re too late! Leave here now and maybe I won’t kill you both, even though I should… Dalia."

  "I’m sorry," Dalia said quietly as she dropped her head in shame, though I wasn’t sure if Sorcha heard her. Even if she did, I doubted she cared. I’d never seen anyone look as fiercely determined as she did.

  Then, as if to prove what she was saying, she snapped her hea
d around to stare at me once more, only this time her eyes seemed to glow a dark greenish color, and the next thing I knew, I couldn’t breathe. My hands instinctively went to my chest as I tried to get air into my lungs, but it felt as if my whole breathing apparatus had seized completely up. In a panic, I looked at Dalia for help, who had now turned in her seat to face me. I could feel her try to work her magic to counter the magic being used on me, but whatever she was doing it was making no difference. All too soon, my face turned purple and my brain, starved of oxygen, began to shut down.

  "Stop this!" Dalia screamed through the window at Sorcha. "You’re going to kill him!"

  Through wide, bugged out eyes I saw Sorcha smile as if she was enjoying seeing Dalia’s reaction to my pain. "I should let him die. Perhaps then you’ll feel some of the pain I felt when I realized you had left me to rot in that prison cell."

  Dalia shook her head, her face now showing her panic, her helplessness. "Kill me then! Leave him be!"

  Sorcha continued to glare at Dalia for another long moment, before seeming to punch the air with her fist. Dalia reacted to this movement by slamming back into her seat as her hands folded over her belly as though she had really been punched there. Sorcha then looked at me again and a blessed second later I was able to breathe once more. I held onto the steering wheel with one hand, the other on my chest as I took in huge gulps of air to fill my lungs back up and oxygenate my starving brain. There was such a head rush that I almost fainted. When I looked up, Sorcha was still floating out there.

  "You have sealed your fate coming here," she said, her gaze on Dalia. "Goodbye Dalia."

  Sorcha then floated back into a dark fog, disappearing into it even as it began to lift. Then the rain stopped and the storm clouds above us began to dissipate. A minute later, the sun was steaming through the window again and the sky outside was cloudless and a deep blue. Breathing a sigh of relief, I sat back in my seat and looked at Dalia, who seemed as shaken up as I’d ever seen her. "Are you all right?"