Not My Fantasy

by Sam Hall

  “Putting the bar across!” Natty called back. I didn’t dare look, trusting they had this as we backed up, shooting as we went, taking out as many as we could. The sight of so many casualties was certainly affecting morale. I didn’t bother shooting the ones who milled at the door, pacing restively, paws clenched around weapons. I was saving my bullets for actual hostiles.

  “What’s outside?” I yelled.

  “A lot of people. Can’t tell if they’re guards or staff,” Flea said. “If they decide to come through these windows, we’re fucked.” The room did feature long floor-length windows on either side of the door. It wouldn’t take much to break the glass and get in close quarters. Tess sighed, taking a step forward as if she was gonna join the fight.

  “No fucking way, princess,” I said, “stay here, stay safe. This is not the time for a show of girl power. Save it for your women’s studies book club.” I shoved her back against Natty, hoping he’d take the hint and keep her contained.

  “We go back up the stairs? Try a different route?” Gabe asked, standing by my side and picking off the last few brave ones, but when we looked up, more soldiers were coming down.

  “Nope,” I snapped. “We need to seal this area off, stop 'em from surrounding us. Flea, Natty, break one of the top window panes and toss out some grenades, far as you can. See if we can clear what’s behind the door. Gabe, we’ve got to focus on area denial. Keep these fuckers back and hope they give up.”

  “We got enough ammo?” he asked.

  “Let’s fucking hope so.” The guards at the top of the stairs took advantage of the fact we were taking care of a few of the stragglers on the ground floor to try and creep down. A few choice shots, waiting until they were half the way down had them turning tail real quick, but more furries were coming through the door on the right, obviously reinforcements, sent to do what their brothers couldn’t.

  “There’s more coming, we gotta think of . . . oh fuck!” Gabe said. Two of the doors on the left jerked open and guards poured in, each armed with crossbows, a matching group appearing on the other side.

  “We’re sitting fucking ducks!” I said. “Lob some grenades, as far as you can up each side. Call out when they are thrown. Everyone is to get down as close to the ground and the door as we can. Meat shield around Tess, got it?”

  Apparently, Tess didn’t get it. She shoved her way past Natty and Flea. He was too gone on her to keep her in line and now she was going to get killed. I watched her pull a glowing green crystal ball from her bag, then saw several guards raise their crossbows and load them. “Fuck! Tess!” As I threw myself in front of her, time seemed to slow. I watched her toss the ball, lobbing it like some kind of bowling ball down the left-hand side, bouncing on the marble floor, sparks flying with each slam into the stone and then–whoosh!–green fire whipped across the marble, consuming guards and crossbows and arrows sent hurtling towards us, a momentary glimpse of twitching skeletons visible before they were completely burned up. The guards on the stairs scuttled back, not wanting to be caught up in the spreading fire and then Tess made one of those weird movements like she had when learning how to open the portal. The fire seemed to follow her directions like a loyal hound, zipping along the stone to take out the wildly scrabbling guards who fought to get back through the doors. “More,” she hissed, “burn this fucking place to the ground.”

  “Uh . . . Tess, we’re still in this fucking place,” I said, watching the fire tear through the building, up the stairs, down hallways, screams letting us know where it passed.

  “We need to get out of here,” she said, turning to me, before pulling out a short staff with a huge amethyst crystal on the top. “Let’s go.”

  “We need to plan this–”

  “Open the door, now, Natty,” she said, her voice containing a thunderous echoey quality. I frowned as the bar was lifted and the door was opened, but despite my misgivings, we walked out into the light.

  It was weird, everything had been so contained and focussed on managing such a narrow area, seeing the boundless sky above me had me flinching. I needn’t, it was fucking chaos outside. Buildings burned, the fire had evidently spread, jumping to the outbuildings. Some of the buildings had holes blasted out from the grenades, bodies littering the grounds. People were running everywhere, out into the grounds, tugging spooking horses from stables, some trying to lead herds of pinkies from sheds. Others ran where we wanted to go, towards the main gate. We needed to get clear of the house, the whole building was alight with green fire, though it was weird because there was no smoke. “Looks like everyone’s distracted,” I said, “we need to make a run for it.”

  “Yes,” Tess said, glancing up at the sky where clouds were beginning to darken and shift. She turned to me, looking me straight in the eye and said, “We really need a means to get out of here quickly.”

  “I will call Miazydar,” I said, closing my hands around my familial spear. I reached out to my heart’s mate, searching for his essence in the incoming tempest. “He comes.”

  “He? What the fuck–?” the blond human with the long light-coloured hair did not get to complete his comment, a host of Sirian warriors streaming out from the wreckage of the Damorican prince’s manor, followed by His Highness himself. I noted the weapons in the hands of the host and flicked my thumb over my spear’s activation pad, watching the light-blue light zip along the cutting edge, then shifted until I was in front of the group, my spear at the ready.

  “Where the fuck do you think you’re going? What the fuck have you done to my manor! And how in the name of the gods did you find an Aravisian dragon rider?” It was odd, seeing the expression so clearly on his now humanoid face. It was a mask of anger and fear, his features curled into something ugly, his chest heaving. I had heard around the court that His Highness was under a curse, but it was difficult to believe until now. He went to take a step forward, against the advice of his second in command who plucked at his sleeve, then let it fall when His Highness looked back in anger.

  “Not a true rider,” the second said. “It’s the woman, McKinnon in their dress.”

  I stiffened when he took another step, spinning the spear, so it formed a diagonal across my body. His Highness noted this, stopping in his tracks, eyes going to the plasma blade. While he sported a very fine Scathian blade, nothing stood against a plasma spearhead. “You are right, and you are wrong,” the prince said to his second, shifting where he stood. “The people with you, you will surrender them. They are prisoners here, taken as such on sovereign land. To take them would be to declare war against the Damorican host.”

  I did not smile, keeping what I felt from showing on my face. The ‘host’ was led by quite a different master now, slaves to the new government rather than the royal family. He relied on me being unaware of the power shift in Damorica, hoping to bluff his way through this negotiation. Are you close, my love? I sent my thoughts winging out into the sky.

  Somewhat, a storm is making the currents unstable.

  We’ll have four others to pick up. All are inexperienced with riding a-dragon back.

  I could hear my beloved’s sigh along our mental bond. And we must take them?

  I have given my word.

  Well then, stay safe for the moment, I will be there anon.

  “These people go with me,” I said, shifting slightly into a stance of readiness. His expression flickered, I think he was used to his micro expressions being concealed by fur. I tightened my grip on my spear as his hand dropped to the hilt of his sword.

  “Then we have a problem,” he said. “These people, you, you’ve destroyed all that I had left. My home, my people, my lands. The fire is spreading, it will consume everything.”

  “Then let your people go out the gate,” I said. “The fire is contained to this estate. It will go no further. Once it is burned out, your people can return.”

  This sent some of the group murmuring. I could see easily many of the whites of the Sirian’s eyes. They were holding
their ground as good soldiers do, unlike everyone else, but I wondered how long that resolve would last.

  “You will not leave this estate,” the prince ground out. “None of you are leaving this estate.”

  I realised then what the purpose of the exchange was. Our use as possible delicacy was redundant now there was no kitchen to prepare us and no table to serve us on. It seemed hardly likely that our previous sexual purpose was of any use to him and the lifting of the curse was certainly off the table. Miazydar, how fare you? I sent down my mental link to my dragon.

  There is something preventing me from landing in the estate, he replied, frustration evident in his tone. This storm, it is as if it acts as magical barrier.

  It appears I must remove the focus of it to allow you to come to us. Hold, my love, I hope to have this problem eradicated quickly.

  “You will allow us to pass from your lands,” I said, taking a firm step forward.

  “Or what?” the prince sneered, drawing his sword from its scabbard.

  “Or I will cut your head from your neck, slice your body into quarters and your royal burial will be attended by none other than carrion birds.”

  As I said the words, I knew I could deliver my promise. The plasma spear could butcher his body more effectively than any other. I looked at the rapidly spreading fire. It was truly an amazing thing, but it would soon pose a very real threat to us. I spared a look over my shoulder and saw the way to the gate was curiously free of flames. It was as if the girl, Tess, controlled its spread.

  "I'd like to see you try," the prince said, marching forward.

  "Make him pay," Tess said, clasping at my arm. “Don’t give him a quick end, he’s raped and dined on too many girls. Make him bleed, make him scream.”

  With reluctance, I flicked the button to turn off the plasma blade. The metal surface was still razor sharp but now relied on force to cut. I needed to prolong this, not cut the knees out from under the upstart prince as I wished. Until Miazydar could get past whatever meteorological barrier that prevented him from being by my side, the death of the prince would mean the rest of his guards would descend on us en masse, which would be problematic in our attempts to get to the gate. I nodded briefly at the prince's rapidly approaching form and fell into a relaxed pose, bringing my spear point up to meet him.

  I was disappointed to see he was angry already, slashing wildly at me, something I was easily able to counter with the greater reach of my spear. Quick as the wind, I blocked his sweeping blow, then flicked my blade upward, forcing his arm wide, before stabbing forward, sinking the tip into his side, a painful, but not mortal blow. He growled at this, his larynx completely unable to make the appropriately menacing sound, then struck again. I parried his attacks almost lazily. It was something I had often observed about royalty in other courts; they did not receive the kind of rigorous martial training that was the norm in mine. "I should have fucked you when I had the chance!" he spat as he tried to rain strikes upon me. "I should have had Mellors hold you down–" I spun my spear, smacking the idiot in the face with the blunt butt, smiling as he fell back, blood running from his nose, dripping from his lip.

  I stepped back as he squawked, desperately trying to stem the blood flow and re-situate his nose. "Are you ready to continue, Your Highness?" I asked. The man sent blood splattering over the cobblestones as he flicked his hands down. His grip tightened around his sword hilt and he lashed out with a wild blow.

  It would be tempting to assume he was no longer a threat, having well and truly lost his composure. His attacks were powerful, but sloppy, with no real thought to targets or strategy, almost like the thrashings of a spoilt child. The accidental advantage this gave him was it was difficult to predict what he would do. He had enough skill to be able to use his weapon semi-effectively, yet there was no familiar pattern of advances in his movements. I considered his approach as I parried. He had strength, his blows sent shock waves down the length of my spear, but he was completely wild. Miazydar, my beloved, are you close?

  No, he gritted out, every time I approach the manor, the updraft forces me away. I thought it perhaps some kind of magical storm, so I left the area, dropping down low to try and glide under the system, but it remains impenetrable.

  Could you . . . I blocked a sweep at my feet, could you land and walk the distance? Coming through the main gate?

  Like a lizard? His tone spoke volumes. I had no time to coddle my heart mate, having to strike back at the prince in a series of fast blows, culminating in me swinging the butt up, while he wavered on his feet, clipping him under the chin and sending him on his back. I watched Mellors rush forward, his ears flat to his skull. He looked up at me the minute he was sure his lord was not unconscious, murder in his eyes. I rushed back to the group while the prince recovered. “Our only means of leaving is via my dragon,” I said. This made all four of them blanch, something that would no doubt pose challenges when Miazydar finally came. “He cannot land, there’s some form of barrier preventing him. It may be that storm or tied to the curse on the prince. He is not in his right mind, but I cannot keep this up infinitely. We need another plan.”

  “The fire’s also spreading, and fast,” Natty said, the white of his eyes showing.

  “That won’t be a problem,” Tess said. All of our gazes were drawn to her.

  “What do you mean?” said Flea.

  “It goes where I want it to go,” she said in a low growl, her voice almost unrecognisable.

  “Tess, what’s going on?” Gabriel snapped, but I held up a hand.

  “And the storm?” I asked.

  She looked up, and I saw something . . . shiver inside her blue eyes, striking the shining surface like bolts of lightning. I jerked my eyes back to the prince. He was being helped to his feet, Mellors speaking very earnestly with him, no doubt wanting to take his place. The prince shook him off, staggering as he did so. “One of these eldritch objects is having an effect on her,” I said, turning the girl around and searching within the strange pockets she had in her garments. She resisted, calling me names, but I yanked a crystal and a small wand out of one, then went to the next.

  “If one of them is keeping the fire back, might need to be careful about taking it from her,” Natty said. That stilled my hands. We all eyed the wall of flames.

  “Tess,” I said, “I need you to tell which item is helping you control the fire and the clouds.”

  “No!” she said, tears forming in her eyes, shining brilliantly in the low light. The clouds began to roil in earnest now, the rumble of thunder almost a mumbled threat in defence of its mistress.

  “Tess, you need to let this go.”

  “No! No!” she shrieked, the wind begin to whip around us, tugging at the unnaturally cordoned off fire, forcing its licking shapes to flicker. “No, it wasn’t supposed to be like this! None of it!” For a moment, it was as if everything stood still. I didn’t need to watch for the prince, see how the men reacted because there was no one else, no one but Tess and I. “We inherited Nan’s shop, we found real magic! Every fictional character I’ve ever wanted to meet popped into the shop every morning!”

  “Including Merlin,” I said. She didn’t reply, her lips thinning down hard. “Merlin, Tess.”

  “Including Merlin.” Her voice was a thin echo of mine. She looked away, brushing at her eyes furiously, rubbing her hands hard on her pants, as if to eradicate their existence. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to be,” she said, thrusting a shaking hand at the frozen forms of the prince’s entourage. “I was going to have an adventure. Meet people of different species, see lands no human has laid eyes on, develop my skills somehow and become a goddamned hero and instead . . .” Her eyes raked down my form. “Instead. . . .” her eyes flicked over to where the prince stood, forever ready to begin fighting again. “Instead, I’m sucked in by a pretty face and an even prettier house and by cute furry animals. Instead, I think I’m being wooed by a handsome prince, but really he’s trying to work out whethe
r to rape me, eat me, or both. Instead, he almost does just that to my sister. Instead, I watch him butcher those poor, stinking, screeching harpies, cutting their tits off like beasts thrill killing. And all I can do is read and watch movies, which I’ve always bloody done, and watch you come to my rescue again.”

  “I’ll always come to your rescue, Tess. I’m your big sister.”

  “Well, I don’t want you to have to anymore! I want to be able to save you, save myself! I don’t ever want to have to be at the mercy of dickheads like that ever again!”

  I take a deep breath, then another, letting the weight of the air I have taken in settle in my chest. Now that I have time to cast my awareness throughout my body, I can sense the oddly augmented sections of it. Strength where there wasn’t, muscles that had developed instantly instead of over time, magic that had never burned within me. I couldn’t say precisely how, but as I breathed, it was as if those alien parts of me became highlighted. I reached for my sister instinctively, pulling her close and wrapping my arms around her. “You are the hero, Tess,” I said, and with that, my limbs turned golden bright, flaring for a moment before the light shifted and infused my sister’s body.

  I blinked and there, standing before me, clad in what looked like a tight, teal, neoprene body armour was Tess. Her hair was scraped back from her face into a high ponytail, a kind of partial skullcap protecting her head and keeping her hair up and out of the way. I handed her the now bloody heavy spear and she clasped it lightly before turning her eyes back to the prince. We both took a deep breath in, me with relief, Tess with determination if the set of her shoulders said anything and then sound, movement all rushed back.

  “Whoa, what the fuck happened this time?” Gabe asked, looking at the two of us. I didn’t answer him; I couldn’t. For the first time since he woke, I saw him, Gabe, whole, unbeaten, unbruised.

  “Oh, my God . . .,” I said, reaching up to touch his face.