by DM Fike
Avalon supposed it didn’t matter if he knew about recent events, so she told him about Hamad: how Bedwyr had captured her, how he had extracted the Child of the Statue from her, but it backfired. How Scawale had accepted the Child instead and had gone mad, killing even her own Aossi comrades in her insanity.
Even in the dim lighting, Boxer visibly paled at Scawale burning a fellow army member to a crisp for trying to protect Bedwyr. “Is that why no one has come?” he muttered, more to himself than Avalon.
“Come from where?” Avalon demanded.
“A soldier from Llenwald generally briefs us twice a day, but they’ve missed a few reports.” He shook his head to clear his mind. “I knew it couldn’t be good, but it can’t be as you say. Scawale is loyal to Bedwyr.”
Avalon gave a humorless laugh. “She’s loyal to her hatred and nothing else. She’ll burn Llenwald to the ground to maintain Aossi purity.”
Boxer crossed the distance between them, his enraged face overtaking the gloom. “Prove to me that your tale is true.”
Before, Avalon might have cowered in fear. Now in her grief, she pushed her face an inch closer to Boxer’s. “Go back to Llenwald and see for yourself.”
Boxer backed off as if she had slapped him in the face. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I just can’t,” Boxer snapped, neck muscles bulging.
A flash of insight hit Avalon. Bedwyr in many ways had been a collector of misfits. He took in many people who longed for the old ways where Aossi life ruled Llenwald. He also had taken advantage of the vulnerability of the mallach, the non-magical Aossi who did not quite fit in with their more talented peers. Most of those, he had taken to Earth.
And then he’d died, leaving them here stranded.
“You can’t return on your own,” she whispered.
“Even some of the most powerful magic wielders can’t teleport between worlds,” Boxer growled. “It takes a certain skill. A skill”—he leaned over her menacingly—“that you possess.”
Avalon feigned shock. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I saw you! You grabbed the piece of statue around that accursed gremlin’s neck, and you teleported him.”
Avalon stifled a groan. Boxer had been at Fantasma when she’d managed her last escape to Llenwald.
Boxer correctly assessed her fallen expression. “That’s why you must be here. You must have lost the piece of the statue you used to come here. Why else would this chit come back to the Saluzyme building twice in one day?”
So much for no one detecting Desert Rose entering the building. “Even if that were true, I wouldn’t take you back to Llenwald.”
“You may not have a choice. I do not believe there are any more statue fragments left here in Utah.”
Avalon’s heart sank. “But Bedwyr kept tons of samples here. How else could he experiment on innocent victims?”
“He didn’t need to test subjects after he found out you were the one he was looking for.” Boxer’s voice held contempt at the idea that Avalon held any sort of value. “After you torched this place, he sent most of his work overseas to Lonmore.”
Lonmore. This time Avalon let out the entire moan. Bedwyr had set up a second research lab in Scotland. She had no idea how she was supposed to get halfway across the world to retrieve a piece of the statue, not with her fugitive status.
“There must be a small fragment left here, maybe upstairs in his study.” Avalon got to her feet. “We have to check.”
Boxer pushed her back into the cushions. “You will go nowhere. You’ll stay here with the mercenary.”
As Boxer stalked toward the elevators that led up to the top floor to Dr. James Skog’s personal office, Avalon called after him, “How do you know I won’t leave here with Desert Rose?”
Boxer stepped into the elevator. “Because you’re not getting far without a car.” The doors shut with him jangling Desert Rose’s keys in front of him. He must have taken them from Desert Rose’s pocket.
Once the elevator doors shut, Avalon scrambled to Desert Rose. She jostled her by the upper torso. “Wake up,” Avalon hissed. She even slapped her and shouted, “Hey! Wake up!”
All to no avail. Desert Rose didn’t so much as twitch an eyelid.
Avalon slouched on the coffee table in front of her, defeated. Boxer knew there was no way she could drag Desert Rose to any sort of safety. Even if she tried, she would barely make it out to the street before Boxer returned. She supposed she could try flagging someone down, but they would almost certainly call the cops, which would land her back in jail. And as much as she wanted to, she refused to flee by herself.
“Why am I so useless?” Avalon admonished herself. She slumped backward, her arm brushing against one side of the evidence box.
Her arm throbbed in protest.
Avalon flinched, sitting back up. She lifted her hoodie sleeve, astonished to find the Miasmis bruise had doubled in size and taken on a darker hue.
“How?” she whispered. She hadn’t tried to wield any fire or ice magic.
Avalon slowly extended her fingers, rubbing them against the evidence box. She felt nothing when she touched the top. She slid her hand down one side. Still nothing. She thought maybe she had hallucinated the whole thing when her fingertips sliding down a second side caused more shooting pains near the bruise.
Lifting the lid off the box, Avalon peered inside. Most of the papers stacked on top had fallen out of the folder, creating a disorganized mess of sheets. She inched her hand along the edge of the box that seemed to cause her pain.
Her fingers touched glass, causing her bruise to throb in a steady rhythm. Wincing, she withdrew her hand.
Avalon angled the box so she could view the items inside. There she saw the source, one of the empty Saluzyme vials from her father’s storage shed. As she adjusted the box under a dim ray of skylight, she spotted a faint green residue.
Avalon sucked in her breath. Could it be that the vial once contained a dose of Miasmis injection treatments? If so, that meant the green residue could hold a trace of the Jaded Sprite Statue.
Avalon moved the box so that it lay at Desert Rose’s feet. She had hoped Desert Rose would take them back to Llenwald, but she didn’t have that option now. She should just grab the vial and teleport them back to Llenwald, but then she glanced down at her arm, sleeve rolled up to expose the growing Miasmis bruise. She couldn’t wield ice or fire magic without almost blacking out. Did she want to risk teleporting them somewhere and having them both unconscious on the other side?
The elevator dinged, indicating someone had entered from the top floor. Its gears whirled to life as the elevator approached the ground floor.
She didn’t have much time. She either seized her opportunity or left herself to Boxer’s whim.
Avalon thrust her hand into the box as the elevator’s doors opened on the first floor. Pain screamed through her arm, running throughout her body.
Let go, Ladybug’s voice commanded in her head.
Avalon would not let go. She tried to focus beyond the pain, onto that feeling of oneness with Llenwald, the oneness that she could use to teleport them out of here.
“Benton!” Boxer shouted across the lobby. “What are you doing?”
The world flickered and blacked out for a second, but Avalon kept her grip on the vial. She reached for Desert Rose’s leg with her other hand. She had to get them out of here. Had to seize control of her own fate.
Even if it killed her.
Boxer’s yells echoed through the high-ceilinged room. “STOP!”
Stop!
A shimmering haze opened up underneath her and Desert Rose. She felt herself slip into it, freefalling into nothingness as she herself succumbed to the blackness of pain.
CHAPTER 5
A CLOUD-LADEN sky hung over the meadow. The once-bright heather flowers had muted to a more neutral brown, still retaining a tint of their former hue. A slim weasel-like creature scurried
away, deep underneath one bush. The meadow stretched out to the base of the looming mountain, its snow cap heavier now as autumn gave its last hurrah into a chiller season.
Avalon recognized it instantly as Mt. Hornley. But was she dreaming?
“You have a real listening problem,” a female voice behind her scoffed.
Ladybug. Definitely dreaming. Or at least, meeting Ladybug inside her mind.
Avalon turned around to find the gremlin in her normal cloak, the hood pushed down revealing her young face, lips a pale green, her tangled mess of orange hair forming an odd halo around her crooked-toothed grimace.
“Nice of you to show up,” Avalon replied.
“Don’t you start on me.” Ladybug wagged a yellowed fingernail at her. “I told you not to mess with magic, and now you’re in real trouble.”
As if to accentuate her point, the ground beneath their feet shook, throwing them both off balance. A flash of lightning shot across the sky and hit the top of Mt. Hornley, causing a huge cascade of snow to tumble from its tip.
“Is it Braellia again?” Avalon asked as the trembling slowed but didn’t quite subside. She half expected to be transported to the locked cage inside the temple where she had met the Aossi before.
“Braellia’s gone,” Ladybug growled. “Which is great because I’m no longer bound to her but not so great because you’re no longer whole.”
Avalon cocked her head in confusion. “What?”
But Ladybug didn’t have time to reply as the trembling intensified, the breeze growing into a gale. Avalon fell on her bottom.
“You can’t use magic!” Ladybug screamed at her. “With Braellia gone, it will kill you! Kill us!”
“Fine!” Avalon yelled back, trying to stand and failing. “I won’t use magic!”
The earthquake escalated, a bolt of lightning striking at the mountain’s base close to them. The hairs on the back of her neck rose.
“Then quit using magic!” Ladybug screamed.
“I’m not!” Avalon said through the pelting ice, gusts of wind knocking them sideways into her face.
“Not here. Out there!” Ladybug pointed straight above them.
Through the shaking, Avalon managed to peer upwards, noting a strange view of somewhere else. She lay in a field of some sort, the Miasmis bruise covering almost one side of her body. In her hand, she still held the Saluzyme vial.
That must be the real world.
“Let go!” Ladybug shrieked.
A great ball of fire shot out between them. Avalon choked in the smoke that enveloped them. She could only barely see herself now in the real world above them.
She concentrated on that image. She had to get the vial out of her hands. At first, she couldn’t feel anything but all five elements whirling completely out of control inside her gut. But then there was a flicker of that almost unbearable pain, accompanied by the oneness. Bracing herself, she grabbed onto it.
She became so detached from her own screams of agony that she did not know they came from her at first.
She tried to let go of that pain but couldn’t. Ladybug hovered behind her. “You can do this,” she whispered, and somehow, the throbbing sensation eased up. When Ladybug hissed, she knew the gremlin had taken some of the burden.
They couldn’t last long like this, attempting to affect the real world as their dream world crashed around them. Avalon focused on her hand in the vision, trying to force her fingers apart, away from the vial. At first nothing happened, but ever so slightly, her thumb twitched, removing itself from touching the glass. Then her index finger. Her other fingers.
“Hurry!” Ladybug yelled in her ear. Avalon felt a renewed flicker of pain before Ladybug managed to seize hold of it again.
Concentrating on that image, Avalon lifted her now open hand, willing the force of gravity to shake the vial loose from direct contact. She faltered for a second as a lightning bolt hit the ground beside her, breaking her concentration.
But then her hand rose, higher and higher, the vial slipping down her palm, toward her fingertips, just barely touching her now in the outside world.
“Don’t use magic!” Ladybug warned as the vial teetered on the edge.
The vial shattered onto the ground.
And Avalon broke away too, away from Mt. Hornley, away from the elemental storm that raged around it. Ladybug stared down at her as she collapsed back toward the real world.
“Wielding magic will kill you!” her voice echoed.
* * *
Avalon awoke to pinpricks poking all over her body. It didn’t hurt exactly, but it didn’t feel comfortable either. Groggily, she pulled one of the pokey things out of her hair.
It was a piece of straw.
Rising to a sitting position, she surveyed her surroundings, surprised to find herself not in a field but inside a dim room with plank wooden walls. She rested in a bed of straw, two thick wool blankets thrown over her to ward off an obvious chill in the air. Next to her, on another stack, lie an unconscious Desert Rose, long pale hair tucked to the side, still dressed in her business suit.
Avalon crawled over to the knight. As gorgeous as any Sleeping Beauty, Desert Rose rested as if a prince might rouse her with a kiss. “Desert Rose?” she whispered. She repeated herself to no avail. Avalon’s breath came out in visible puffs. Shivering underneath her hoodie, she tucked Desert Rose more tightly underneath the wool blanket, then added one of her own for good measure.
Was this Llenwald? The long narrow room could have been an old outdoor storage shed. A sagging shelf held jars of various colored liquids next to a rusted wood stove. One section of the room had been closed off like a closet, although the walls did not go all the way up to the ceiling.
A rustling outside followed by a flurry of shadows underneath the room’s door alerted her to someone’s approach. Avalon had nowhere to hide as a stout woman with a wide apron entered, her dark hair braided in a fanciful French twist. She could not have been much older than Avalon, although her face and hands showed signs of hard labor. She balanced cloths in one hand and an empty bowl in the other. Her bright eyes widened as she saw Avalon staring at her.
“Awake now, are you? You’ve been asleep for several days.”
Avalon perched uncertainly on her haunches.
“You have no need to be afraid of me.” The woman swung her hip out as she grabbed a jar off the shelf and placed it in the bowl. She then placed her burden near Desert Rose’s side in the straw. “My name’s Gonait. An orphan found the pair of you in an adjacent field. He came to me because he knew naught what to do with you.”
Gonait kneeled next to Desert Rose, eyebrows furrowing as she gently but firmly pushed Desert Rose onto her side. She examined the angry red knot that had formed at the base of Desert Rose’s neck and clicked her tongue. “Your friend have a run in with a troll?”
Her reference confirmed that Avalon was indeed on Llenwald. One problem solved. “Something like that,” Avalon hedged.
Gonait poured the jar’s contents into the bowl. Avalon could tell by its viscosity that it must be a kind of oil. She had seen something similar before. “Are you a healer?”
Gonait laughed. “I do care for things, if that’s what you mean.”
Avalon stared in confusion as Gonait dipped a cloth into the bowl and placed its oily content over the wound on Desert Rose’s neck. Her hands didn’t glow, so she wasn’t applying any magic. Gonait was just a regular person.
“What’s your name?” Gonait asked.
“Avalon.”
“And how do you know this Aossi?”
Avalon hesitated. Human and Aossi relations were strained on Llenwald. Avalon had no way to tell how Gonait viewed non-humans, so she decided on a muted truth. “An acquaintance.”
Gonait gave her a wry smile as she rubbed more oil on Desert Rose. “Please do not be scared. I do not harbor any ill will toward the magical ones. I wouldn’t be caring for her if I did, no matter how strange her attire.”
&n
bsp; Avalon relaxed. “Will she be okay?”
“Aye.” Gonait must have finished her administration because she returned Desert Rose to her back. “Just a bit of trauma, but she’s healthy enough. Don’t recommend she let herself get clocked too often by a brute though, eh?”
“When will she wake?”
“Should be soon.” Gonait finished by folding a cloth over Desert Rose’s forehead and the side of her face. She then set her sights on Avalon. “Take off your garments.”
Avalon balked. “Excuse me?”
“You had an awful bruise on your arm. I must check it.”
“I’m fine.”
Gonait clucked her tongue. “Given how nasty the bruise had been, I’m highly doubtful of that.”
But Avalon didn’t feel any sort of pain in her arm, only the soft swirl of ice and flicker of flame from Desert Rose’s magic in her core. She felt so pain free, in fact, it didn’t shock her to find the normal quarter-sized bruise when she rolled back her shirt sleeve.
Gonait did a double take. “That’s incredible. The bruise ran down the entire length of your arm, as if it had been crushed underneath a wagon wheel.”
“You must have been mistaken about its size.” Avalon pulled her sleeve back to the wrist. “And I haven’t been crushed by anything that I know of.”
“I suppose,” Gonait replied, although she didn’t sound exactly convinced. She shook her head of the lingering doubt. “Less work for me then.” Gonait stoked a nearly dead fire back to life in the woodstove. A heat flushed the room. “Now you must earn your keep.”
“Excuse me?”
“Every able-bodied person in Jentry should pitch in to make life better for others,” Gonait replied as she trotted toward the door. “I’ve got work for you to do.”
Avalon, who had been in the act of rising to her feet, stilled. Jentry.
She had teleported them back to the human town not far from Craeg, home of the boulder elves.
CHAPTER 6
GONAIT LED AVALON through a barren backyard with a broken chicken coop and a garden of herbs scattered with weeds. “I do apologize for leaving you in the stable,” she called over her shoulder. “My husband Cathal doesn’t like it when I house people, much less when there’s no money in it. I keep you in the stables to avoid his irritation.”
