Petrified

by Ben Meeks

  “You sure that’s a good idea? You can’t see it but the elves are back on the guns. What do you think the odds are you can outfly bullets?” I said.

  She paused and stood erect again. She didn’t make a sound, standing as still as one of her statues. I was starting to feel a little better. My back felt like it had stopped bleeding. I took a step forward. “I believe the agreement was to the death. What do you say we finish this?”

  The snakes turned toward me. “You’ve taken my eyes but I’m not blind.” The calmness of her voice bothered me more than any anger I had seen from her so far. “Yes, we will finish it and I won’t underestimate you again.” She spread her wings, not to fly but to make herself as large and imposing as possible.

  Cearbhall lifted his head off the concrete behind Petra. He rose slowly and quietly off the ground and crouched. Before she knew what happened he was on top of her. He wrapped his arms under her wings, pinning her arms to her body. He winced as the snakes bit him repeatedly, he didn’t try to defend. This was my chance.

  “Jump!” I yelled, and rushed in.

  He did, lifting them both off the ground. I charged into them, grabbing them around the waist, pushing with everything I had to drive us into the side of the bridge. Their higher center of gravity was enough to send us toppling over toward the water. Petra spread her wings, flapping as hard as she could. She was able to slow, but not stop, our descent. Cearbhall shifted his grip and grabbed a wing. The result sent us spiraling out of control as the other wing flapped helplessly. Pushing off, I turned head first into a dive and glided smoothly into the water. The cool water was refreshing on my fur and my shoulder. With only a second to enjoy myself, my moment was interrupted by Cearbhall and Petra’s collision with the water. I picked up the vibrations in my whiskers telling me the direction and distance of their impact. In contrast to the gentle pattering of the rain on the surface, the initial shock felt like a violent wave, immediately followed by smaller but frequent tremors running through the water from their movement. Glad to be in my own element, I rose to the surface.

  It was hard to see anything. The storm had made the lake choppy and the rain didn’t help. I caught glimpses of a dark figure I thought to be Petra splashing on the surface about ten feet away. There was no sign of Cearbhall. Two spotlights came on from the trucks, flooding the area with blinding light. I squinted as my eyes adjusted and considered diving just to get away from it when Petra surprised me. I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but she started to lift out of the water. She floated face down, her large wings sticking out of the water and catching just enough air to take flight. By the time I realized it, it was too late to catch her. She was going to get away.

  The water’s already tumultuous surface exploded in a large circle off to my left like the rain had intensified tenfold in a finite circle. I had never seen anything like this before. It wasn’t until I noticed the humming a split second later that I realized the elves had let loose with the big guns. I looked to the top of the hill to see a line of fire coming out of the end of the gun, illuminating the truck as well as the elves and shifters watching. The bullets slamming into the water were redirected onto the fleeing demon. Some ricocheted into the water off her scales, while others tore her leathery wings to pieces and hammered her back into the water.

  The fire ceased when she had disappeared back into the lake. Now it was my turn. Taking a breath, I disappeared under the water. I could feel the vibrations of her movement in my whiskers, indicating her direction before I spotted her. The spotlight penetrated the water revealed her, or what was left, I should say. The light surrounded her, casting a long shadow into the darkness below, looking almost like the darkness was reaching up to claim her. Her wings looked to be intact structurally, but the leathery skin that ran between them had been shredded.

  I came up underneath, grabbed her foot, and pulled her under. At first she struggled to return to the surface but when that didn’t work, she turned down to try and attack me. I let her go and swam out of reach before she could get me. She again tried to get to the surface but the extra drag created by her ripped wings combined with the inability to swim made it impossible for her make any progress before I pulled her even deeper. We repeated this dance a few more times until she was still. I stayed under with her a few minutes extra, just to be sure.

  C H A P T E R • 29

  The spotlights were still on, scanning the water in lazy circles, when I pulled Petra’s now lifeless body to the surface. It didn’t take long for them to find me when I appeared, but the lights only stayed on me for a moment before being redirected into the sky. I looked up to see an athol with what looked like Petra’s leather satchel dangling from one of its feet, circling toward the bridge. The elves on the bank closest to me opened fire. The creature lacked the protective scales Petra had, and after a violent jarring that seemed to suspend it midflight, it fell lifelessly into the water twenty feet to my right. I made a quick detour to retrieve it and pulled the two demons to shore.

  Cearbhall was waiting on the bank when I finally made it to shore with Petra. He sat on a large rock under the bridge with his head between his knees.

  “It’s done,” I said. “You going to make it?”

  “Aye, feeling dizzy. The antivenom works but not all the way,” he said. “I got bit a lot.”

  “Hang out here until you feel better,” I said. “I better check on everyone.”

  I hauled Petra’s body up the steep incline, opting to retrieve the athol later, stepping over large rocks and using trees to pull myself to the top. Coming over the crest of the hill, I found multiple demons lying dead, strewn around the truck. Two elves sat wounded but conscious against the truck while a third tended to them. Harlan stood by himself but was in one piece, as far as I could tell. Otis laid lay in the road with Hank and a werewolf named Chisel crouched over him.

  Hank stood and turned to the elves with a fire in his eyes I knew from past experience to be wary of. “You killed him.”

  If Otis was dead Hank was next in line for leadership. Chisel followed Hank’s lead and took a threatening posture but waited for Hank to start the attack. They both bared their teeth and emitted low rumbling growls as they started to stalk forward.

  The elf tending to her comrades rose and spun, raising a pistol in their direction. I threw Petra’s body on a collision course that made impact just as she was in position to fire, sending her sprawling defenseless onto the ground. The pack charged, but I was already on my way to intercept. I leapt in front of the snarling group before they could tear the elves to pieces. I wasn’t sure they would stop, they could plow right over me and there wouldn’t be anything I could do about it. Hank put the brakes on with only inches to spare. The T.O. jumped to the side but didn’t attack—they wouldn’t go against him. If Otis was in fact dead, Hank was in line to be the new club leader.

  “Let me take a look, maybe I can help,” I said.

  “Can you raise the dead?” he asked, spittle flying out of his mouth onto my face.

  I wiped his anger from my nose and whiskers. “No, just let me take a look.” I moved around him, holding palms out. Otis lay on his back. His stomach had some large gashes, probably from the claws of the demon that lay a few feet away. That shouldn’t be life-threatening but he didn’t appear to be healing. I knelt beside him and found a bloody spot on the side of his head. Moving his hair back I found an entry wound. I turned his head and found the much larger exit wound, still something he should be able to heal through, unless . . . I held my hand out and concentrated. The energy didn’t flow, there was nowhere for it to go. Otis was, in fact, dead.

  “Who shot him?” I said, turning back to Hank.

  He pointed a finger at the elf that had just made it out from under Petra. Again, she raised the pistol, this time as much in my direction as Hank’s.

  I walked past him directly into her firing line, moving up to where her gun was three inches from my face. “What happened?”

&
nbsp; Her voice was stern but I could see the uncertainty in her eyes. “He had a demon on him. I tried to help, it was an accident.”

  “Elves don’t miss,” Hank yelled from behind me.

  He was right about that. I reached up and put my hand on the pistol. She let me take it without a fight. I released the clip and looked at the cartridges. As I suspected, silver bullets. Otis didn’t stand a chance after a headshot with these.

  I slid the clip back in and handed the gun back to her. “Let me see your AK.”

  She slid it off her shoulder and handed it to me. Again I released the magazine, no silver here, but there were rounds left. She wouldn’t have needed to draw the pistol as long as the rifle still had rounds. I looked up at her and she knew she was busted. I replaced the magazine and put the gun in the back of the truck.

  “Load your wounded and get out of here,” I said.

  “Now just hold on a damn minute!” Hank screamed.

  I turned, holding my hands out again to put myself between them. “She’s empty, Hank. She must have pulled the pistol trying to help and a shot got away from her.”

  “They don’t miss, those guns are their lives. No way it was a mistake,” he said.

  “Maybe she’s just not that good of a shot.” I turned to see if I had hit my mark.

  She was helping the second wounded elf into the back of the truck and paused from my comment. Elves are too proud. I could see her contemplating her next move. She could admit she killed Otis on purpose and start a war, or take the shame of one of the worst insults you can give to an elf. She clenched her jaw and loaded her comrades into the truck before quietly getting in herself and starting the engine.

  Harlan had gotten in his truck and pulled up, followed closely by the elves and T.O. from the other side of the bridge. “What happened?”

  I moved over to the truck so I could speak a little more privately. “Otis is dead. Y’all should get out of here. Tell the Queen I will be by to see her soon.”

  He pulled out without another word. I waved the other two trucks of elves off and they followed Harlan out. The first stopped just long enough to let the shifters jump out of the back. We had at least avoided a war tonight. Maybe Hank could cool off for a couple days and things could calm down. The Tortured Occult surrounded Otis’s body, beginning to come to grips with their pack leader being dead. There was a lot of anger, but more uncertainty. It was going to be a hard few weeks for the T. O. to move forward from this. I found Hank standing off by himself by Petra’s body, while the pack stood vigil over Otis.

  “Have you given any thought to joining the T.O.?” he said. “With Otis dead we’re going to need new leadership. They would follow you.”

  “You know I can’t. My loyalty has to stay with Thera first. That’s something I haven’t been as good about as I should have, but I’m going to do better. You don’t want to lead?”

  “I always figured I would lead one day, somewhere off in the distant future,” he said. “I’m not ready. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “I think you’re more ready than you realize. Otis already relied on you for a lot of the management of the T.O. You’re a strong and competent leader. I know you are going to get through this just fine,” I said.

  “What about them?” He looked over at the club.

  “They’ll be fine, they have you,” I said.

  He looked uncertain. “Maybe you’re right, but I don’t feel ready.”

  “If everyone waited until they were ready to do things, then nothing would get done,” I said. “I’ll load the truck and take the demons to Hob. The pack should stay together tonight.”

  “That’s a good idea. Thanks, Obie. One more thing, her eyes are gone. Looks like they melted out. What did you do to her?”

  There were black charred holes where Petra’s eyes used to be. “Old Keeper trick,” I said. “Cearbhall is down by the water, he should be up soon. He got a lot of poison in his system. I need to get some things done. Can he stay at the clubhouse tonight?”

  “No problem,” he said.

  I helped Cearbhall get back up to the bridge and in a car, and put the athol in the back of the truck with the rest of the demons. After fifteen minutes of searching, I found the remains of the leather satchel. It was little more than a strap and a few scraps of leather. The book had either been shredded by the guns or was somewhere in the lake. Otis was put into the back of a truck and we all pulled out together.

  C H A P T E R • 30

  I split off from the T.O. and headed to Hob’s to drop off the demons. It was the largest haul that I ever remembered delivering at one time, maybe the largest we had ever had. It might even have been large enough to keep Hambone from complaining, but I doubt it.

  “Is it finished?” Thera asked, from what had been an empty passenger seat a moment before.

  “Yes, the demon that was causing you problems is dead. I am taking her to the duster right now,” I said.

  “And the grimoire?”

  I was hoping she would have forgotten about it, not that that was a real possibility. “Well, it’s either destroyed or somewhere in Lake Lanier.”

  “Which is it, destroyed or in the lake?” she asked.

  “Same thing. I got a look at it, it’s an old book. Even an hour floating will severely damage it, if not completely destroy it. Just because I don’t have it in hand doesn’t mean it’s going to cause any more trouble,” I said. “Even if it is still out there somewhere, which it isn’t, then whoever finds it won’t know what to do with it. They will think it’s worth something and try to sell it and get it translated and then I will find out about it. There’s no scenario where that book shows up again without me finding out about it.”

  “I would rather you have found it,” she said.

  “Well, me, too,” I replied.

  I didn’t get the impression that she was happy about the grimoire being unaccounted for, but she must have accepted it because she vanished from the truck and the rain seemed to lighten just a bit. By the time I got to Hob’s farm it had stopped completely. I pulled in slowly, not so worried about alerting my presence since they had seen me in this truck the day before. The lights were still on in the house so I parked there instead of going around to the barn. Hob was sitting out on the porch, enjoying the night air. I got out of the truck and joined him in a vacant rocking chair.

  “I have always enjoyed the rain,” he said when I took a seat. “Does this mean the battle is over then?”

  “Yes, it’s finished,” I said.

  “I’m glad to see you have lived,” he said.

  We sat quietly for a few minutes, listening to the katydids. My mind wandered to the Queen and Otis’s assassination.

  “What are elves like in other places?” I asked.

  Hob looked a little confused by the question. “Elves are people like all other people. What do you mean?”

  “I’m pretty sure the Queen had Otis killed tonight,” I said. “I’m just trying to wrap my head around why. As you know I’ve never lived anywhere else so the Queen’s rule is all I’ve ever known. It seems normal to me. Are there places where elves aren’t so . . . you know, authoritarian and murdery?”

  “In my homeland we had a Queen and a King. They worked together for the good of their people. Magic wasn’t shunned like it is here. It was seen as a valuable tool to be used for the good. When I came here I was surprised to see how the Queen behaved. I knew right away I wouldn’t be living with my kind anymore, and that was okay. I worry if she has done this then she might be making plans for a larger attack. If I am lucky, she has forgotten about me.”

  I shook my head. “She doesn’t forget anything. I’m going to pay her a visit and see what I can find out. I should probably get going before she moves her camp again. Is Wilix in the barn for me to unload?” I asked, getting up from the rocking chair.

  “Ja, he is there. What about Naylet? Have you made up your mind about the blood?”

  “I wanted
to talk to you about that. Have you actually seen someone that was restored that way?”

  “I knew of a human child in the Fatherland many years ago, I think in his sixth year. His family had a small farm close to where I lived. He was a good boy. One day, he was made to stone from a gorgon. There were rumors going around that I was a witch and his father came to me to ask for help. To make the long story shorter, I help him. I got the blood and the boy was restored. His father was so happy but the boy wasn’t the same. Where he had been so full of life before he had become quiet, like he was empty. There was no more playing for him and he would just stare off blankly into nothing. A few months after, I went to check in on him. I was curious, you see because I had heard stories, but it was the first time to see it in person. The boy had killed his family with the sickle. When I found him he had cut his sister open and was eating the insides.” He leaned back in his rocking chair and put his feet up on the railing. “I left my homeland for America a few weeks after.”

  There was no way I would bring her back to have her change like that. She wouldn’t have wanted it, and neither did I. “No, I won’t be needing the blood,” I said. “If I had some way to bring back her memories then maybe, but I’ve come up empty on that.”

  “It is for the best,” he said. “Come. It is not good to dwell on the past. Let us get your truck cleaned out.”

  We had the truck empty in twenty minutes flat and I was on my way. It was a long drive to the Queen’s camp, made longer by a couple of wrong turns on the unfamiliar backroads. By the time I arrived, the Queen’s RV was just pulling out, with a guard truck on either side. I pulled up in front of the convoy, blocking the road, got out, and waited. They rolled to a stop in front of me, headlights illuminating my truck and hurting my eyes. They didn’t try to drive around but no one came out to talk to me either. I leaned against the truck and waited for a good two minutes before the door to the RV opened and the elf that had shot Otis stepped out. She held the door open and stood to the side so I could enter.