by Skye Knizley
‘Aspen, you have to get free, the fuselage is falling over the cliff with you inside,’ she sent.
‘I’m trying…’ Aspen replied.
Raven grit her teeth and pulled, trying to haul the wreckage further from the edge. Metal tore and rivets popped, almost dumping them both over the side. She regained her balance and shifted her grip to a less damaged portion of the tail, hoping it would hold long enough for Aspen to get free.
With a shriek of metal, the tail tore free from the passenger compartment. Raven fell backwards and watched in terror as the main cabin slid over the side and vanished into the lake below. She picked herself up and ran after it, ready to fling herself after it in hopes of saving Aspen.
“Aspen!” she yelled. “Aspen, no!”
“I could use a little help,” Aspen said in a pained voice. Raven looked and saw Aspen’s hair streaming in the wind a few feet below the rim of the cliff. She was clinging to an old root that protruded from the rock face, her feet dangling sixty feet above the water.
Raven didn’t know if she should laugh or cry. She reached down and hauled Aspen up then hugged her for all she was worth.
“I thought I’d lost you,” she said.
Aspen snuggled into her chin. “I thought you had, too. That was close, lover.”
Raven kissed the top of her head and held on tight. She’d lost so much, so many friends, so many siblings, even her father who, though alive, was never around. She couldn’t lose anyone else.
She let go and held Aspen at arm’s length, checking for injuries. “Are you alright? Can you walk?”
“I’m okay, Ray. Got my bell rung and my arms feel like they’re coming out of the sockets, but I’m alright,” Aspen replied.
There was a station on this side of the island, not much, but it served as an emergency barracks for the rotating shift of guards that kept an eye on the island year round. It would provide shelter and give Aspen a place to rest.
“Come on, I know where we can find shelter and catch our breath,” she said.
She started down the hill, but was stopped by Aspen’s hand on her arm. “What about the pilot?”
Raven closed her eyes. She could see the fuselage coming apart, the burning cockpit…
“He’s dead. The cockpit went down in the water. If he survived the crash, he’s on his own. We won’t make it down there and back in this storm,” she said, looking back at Aspen.
Aspen frowned and looked away. “Are you sure? Maybe we should look.”
Raven stepped closer. “Aspen, we can’t save everyone there just isn’t enough time. Rupert is the priority, they want to use his blood for something and I’ve a bad feeling that I know what. We’ve got to stop them.”
“You’re right, Raven,” Aspen sighed. “Just…hate leaving anyone behind.”
“It’s not my first choice, Asp. He’s a good man and we could use him, but we can only do so much,” Raven said. “I promise we’ll look for him when this is all over.”
She paused and looked out at the water. “Did King say what he was?”
“What do you mean?” Aspen asked.
Raven started down the hill. “He wasn’t frozen, Asp. He’s one of us, a vampire, lycan or something. A preternatural. He’s probably doing better than we are. Come on, let’s get out of here.”
She looked back at Aspen, who looked reassured. She caught up and Raven took her hand. Together they descended toward the Army station, feeling hope for the first time all day. It wasn’t long before Raven spotted the small green building jutting out of the snow at the foot of the hill. A radio antenna jutted from the top and smoke curled out of the tin stove pipe, but there was no sign of life.
They approached from the side, weapons drawn. Raven motioned for Aspen to cover her and crept up the side to the door at the front. There was only one way in and one way out, no one expected the small shack to serve as anything other than emergency shelter. Fire exits weren’t a concern.
She tested the knob and found the door unlocked. She gave Aspen the okay and pulled it open revealing the single room interior. It was spartan, with two narrow bunks, a small two-person table and a wall of shelves that contained military rations and emergency supplies.
Between the bunks was a small wood-burning stove that doubled as a heater. A small fire glowed within, casting welcome warmth into the shack.
Aspen sank into one of the chairs by the table and Raven locked the door behind them, watching outside for any sign of who started the fire.
“How are you feeling, Asp?” she asked.
“Weak, Ray. Tired. I lost a lot of blood on the helicopter,” Aspen said.
Raven joined her at the table and bent to examine the cut in Aspen’s scalp. It wasn’t deep, but it was long and continuing to drool blood. If they didn’t get it closed she would bleed to death.
“Take your jacket off, it’s full of frozen blood,” Raven said, turning to the shelves. “That isn’t helping.”
She rummaged until she found a sizeable first aid kit with antiseptic, bandages and a collection of needles and silk for closing wounds. She set it on the table and began threading one of the needles.
Aspen paled. “Is that really necessary?”
“It’s either this or a hot poker, Asp. You aren’t going to be doing magik in your condition,” Raven said.
“Would a hot poker really be that bad? I could cover the scar with a cute beret,” Aspen replied.
“I’ll be gentle, Asp, I promise. Let’s get you sewed up, we still have to find Rupert,” Raven said.
Reluctantly, Aspen pulled off her blood-soaked jacket and set it by the fire, then took a seat herself. With great care, Raven cleaned and closed the wound, making sure the stitches were small. When she was finished she cleaned it again and applied a small bandage.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Aspen said, blinking back tears.
“You’re a champ, Aspen,” Raven said. “Rupe would have been squirming all over the place.”
She kissed Aspen’s forehead and moved back to the window. They were burning daylight, or would have been if there was any daylight to be had. Her phone was broken in the crash, but she was sure it was almost noon. Or midnight. Whatever.
‘Ray…’
It was Levac’s mental voice. He sound weak, tired, but it was him.
‘Rupe? Where are you?’ Raven sent.
‘I’m near the altar on that weird island… Ray, they know you’re coming, it’s a trap,’ Levac said.
‘Of course it’s a trap, they know I’ll come for you,’ Raven replied. ‘What can you see?’
‘Nothing, they’re treating me like a mushroom. Ray, is Sloan alright? The baby?’ Levac asked.
‘They’re fine, Rupe. Sloan is at the hospital, the baby is coming. We have to get you out of this so you can meet your little girl,’ Raven replied.
‘That’s good. Get out of here, Ray. Don’t come for me, they’re trying to bring back the Antonio Banderas life-size blow up doll,’ Levac said.
Raven shook her head and looked at Aspen, who had a curious look on her face. ‘We aren’t leaving you, partner. You just hold on, I’m on my way.’
“Rupe’s alive,” she said aloud.
Aspen jumped up and almost fell, catching herself with the table at the last second. “That’s great−”
Raven moved to her side and helped her to one of the bunks. “You need to get some rest, Asp.”
Aspen shook her head. “You need me to watch your back.”
“I need you to stay alive and be here to watch my back on our wedding day,” Raven replied.
“You need my help,” Aspen said stubbornly.
Raven smiled. “You’re probably right, but I will manage. I’m not losing you, Aspen.”
“Duty,” Aspen said angrily.
“Not this time,” R
aven said, shaking her head. “Family. You are my wife, Rupert is my best friend. You two come first and I’ll be damned if I rescue him only to lose you in the process.”
Aspen sat up and turned until she was sitting on the edge of the bunk. “I don’t want to lose you either, Raven. I already lost you twice.”
Raven extended her pinky finger. “Then hold on tight and we won’t lose anyone, okay?”
“Swear,” Aspen replied, wrapping her own finger around Raven’s.
“Swear,” Raven echoed. “Grab one of those meals and get your strength back. We’re going to need you to get off this damn rock.”
She stood and checked the shack for anything useful. There wasn’t much, the island mostly saw tourists and lost freighters, not firefights. She found an old shotgun in one of the footlockers and loaded it with shells from her bandolier, then slung it over her shoulder. Behind her, Aspen was rummaging in a case of ready to eat meals.
“What sounds better?” Aspen asked. “Meatballs in Styrofoam sauce or veggie patty?”
“Meatballs,” Raven said, slinging the shotgun. “That veggie patty is worse than my mom’s cooking.”
Aspen looked shocked. “Seriously? Eww.”
She tossed one of the packets aside and tore into the other one. Raven hugged her from behind and kissed her cheek.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can. Keep your eyes open, someone lit that fire,” she said.
Aspen drew her side arm and chambered a round. “I’m on it, boss. Be careful.”
Raven kissed her again and hit the door at a run. Time was running out.
***
Outcast Island, Lake Michigan, 12:15 p.m. Dec 24th
The island hadn’t changed much since 1943. Same trees, same rolling hills and mysterious cliffs…it had no right not to have changed in seventy years.
She easily found the path that wound deeper into the island, away from the old asylum and ruined lighthouse to the real secret of Outcast Island. It wasn’t long before she crested the rise that led into the crater at the island’s heart. This, at least was different. The altar stone was still there, surrounded by chanting witches dressed in silver trimmed robes of royal blue, as was the standing stone that held Excalibur. Gone were the rest of the stones and the gantry that had held Black Eon.
Raven crept over the edge and slid down the slope, out of sight of the witches. She’d expected Levac to be at the altar or at least somewhere close by, but there was no sign of him. Where the hell was he? Could she contact him without alerting them? She wasn’t sure. Even if she could, he’d already indicated he didn’t know where he was, it was too dark.
“The vault,” she muttered. “Sometimes I’m a moron.”
The vault lay beyond the altar, in the shadow of the ruined temple. Excalibur had once slept beneath the island in one of the antechambers. Raven hadn’t explored the rest of the complex, no doubt Levac was being held in one of them she just had to get to him.
She continued forward using the driving snow and the banks to keep herself hidden. The darkness was a boon, she was a creature of darkness and could see in the gloom as well as she could in daylight. In moments she was opposite the Coven, who stood in a perfect circle around the altar stone. At this distance Raven could tell they weren’t chanting, they were singing in a sort of cant that she didn’t recognize. It was almost like a Viking shanty, but less melodic.
Beyond them lay the standing stone and the yawning portal that led into the vault. There was no way to get to the vault without confronting the Coven, which was just as well. It had to happen sooner or later.
Raven drew her pistol and pulled her badge out of her armor, where it swung between her breasts. She then strode into the clearing, weapon ready.
“Good afternoon, ladies. Please cease any and all magikal incantations, you’re under arrest for attempted mass murder, kidnapping and pissing me off to no end.”
To Raven’s surprise, the Coven disappeared one by one until only one of them remained. She pulled her hood back and smiled. It was a humorless thing, a gesture of self-satisfaction rather than mirth.
“Lady Raven, welcome.”
“I haven’t had the pleasure,” Raven replied. “Where’s my partner?”
The witch glanced at the sky. “I expect his blood-letting is well underway by now. Arden was in too much of a rush, the ceremony needs to be done properly or his energy will be lost.”
Raven thumbed back her pistol’s hammer. “Where!”
The witch shook her head. “Your weapon doesn’t frighten me, Lady Raven. We are protected against its magik.”
“You think so? I put a bullet through Arden’s skull and spread her rotten ashes for the rats to share,” Raven replied.
“Arden was weak, lady Raven. Just as weak as your familiar,” the witch replied.
Raven sidestepped, keeping the altar between herself and the witch. “You’ve obviously never met her, then. Put your hands on your head and surrender.”
The witch was fast. Too fast. She raised her hands and sent electricity crackling toward Raven, who barely had time to roll out of the way. Even so she felt the shock hit her, carried by the wet snow at her feet. She groaned in pain and rose to her knees, aiming for the witch’s head. She squeezed the trigger and breathed with relief when the bullet hit home, spinning the witch around with a gaping hole where her shoulder should have been.
“Impossible!”
Raven crossed the distance between them. “Yeah, your coven says that a lot. I think you people need a dictionary.”
She grabbed the woman’s throat and aimed at her left eye. “You can walk out of here or you can die, I don’t care which. Where is my partner?”
“He is in the vault. You can’t save him, the ritual has already begun.”
“What ritual? What do you want him for?” Raven asked.
The witch’s face hardened and Raven pistol whipped her across the face. “The questions do get harder as we go on. Would you like to answer the question or take a bullet to the head, Alex?”
The witch looked puzzled. “My name isn’t−”
Raven rolled her eyes. “Answer the question, what is the ritual for?”
“We are raising your sire. The ritual requires blood of the Tempeste, which runs in his veins,” the witch replied, spitting blood.
“Great. Last question, for all the cash. How do I unfreeze the city?”
The witch shook her head. “I would rather die than betray my coven further.”
“Are you sure? Prison is temporary, hell lasts forever,” Raven said.
“Hell holds no mystery for me, Lady Raven. No more than it holds for you.”
Raven squeezed the trigger and watched the witch’s ashes blow away in the storm.
“Never been there,” she said to the world at large.
She turned and strode toward the vault entrance, determined to find Levac and put an end to the Coven once and for all.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Aspen
Army Station Outcast, 1:42 p.m. Dec 24th
The storm raged outside, shaking the small shack’s walls and rattling the small window that overlooked the snowfield outside. On a normal day, the jetty would be visible, today visibility had fallen so low Aspen couldn’t see ten feet away from the door.
She turned and ran a gentle finger over the cut in her scalp. It was tender and she winced at even that light touch. If she was honest, it hurt like hell. She was certain she had a mild concussion, if not a more serious injury. Raven had been right to keep her out of the fight, but it didn’t make her feel any better.
The bunk squeaked beneath her when she lay down, and she stared at the ceiling, fighting the urge to grab a fresh coat out of the emergency stores and follow Raven. Her heart belonged beside her, no matter the risk. Common sense said she would be as much a liability as a he
lp, which is why she was lying on a squeaky bunk in a shack that smelled like overdone pasta sauce.
So why did she feel that chasing after her was the right thing to do? It bothered her that Raven was out there alone again, fighting for her, fighting for everyone all by herself. It was no wonder all Raven thought about was duty, it was all anyone had ever given her, duty and obligation.
Aspen sat up and rummaged in her belt pouches, sorting powders, crystals and Fae dusts into a potion vial. There had to be something she could do, to help herself and Raven. A healing spell, for one, something that would at least heal the cut faster and make her head stop aching.
She added a small amount of water to the vial and closed the lid, sending her magik into the components, willing the potion into being with her power. The components swirled and danced around each other as the magik filled them and the liquid turned a deep blue, the color of a summer sky. Aspen drank it down without a second thought and sat down, letting the potion do its work. Within seconds the cut was scabbed over and the pain in her head receded to a mild annoyance. She breathed a sigh of relief and began rummaging through the stack of boxes at the back of the room. One was filled with cold weather gear, including a selection of coats she normally wouldn’t have been caught dead in. Military Issue wasn’t exactly the height of fashion. But they were thick, warm and would keep the snow out, and that was what mattered. She could get a new one when this was over.
She shrugged into a coat and gathered her things, ready to chase Raven into the mouth of hell, if it was necessary.
She reached for the doorknob and stopped, the hair standing on the back of her neck. With care, she wiped moisture off the small window and peered into the storm, where she spotted six white-clad figures walking out of the darkness. They were armed with submachine guns she didn’t recognize and grenades she did. Incendiaries, a preferred weapon of the Renegades.
The man in the lead lowered his scarf and smiled. “I see you, Aspen my pet. Come out, we do not wish to harm you.”
