by Jim Stein
What the…
“You really should sever that bond,” a woman said over her shoulder as she stepped from the bushes.
The skittering sound stopped as she emerged, the plants having simply bent away to allow passage without snagging her clothing. Her elegant dress was pale-red with dark sequins outlining the modest bodice and trailing edges. The outfit hugged the tall woman’s trim figure. Plaits of glossy black hair coiled at the nape of her neck in a precise cascade that stopped between her shoulder blades. The severe hairstyle matched high-arched brows sitting atop wide-set narrow eyes. Her porcelain skin would make it easy to think she was young, but her perfect features glowed waxy and surreal, a statue frozen in time.
“Um, bond?” I asked brightly, my mind still processing. “He needs the leash.”
The woman glared at me with lips pursed, then rubbed above her right eyebrow. “I wasn’t talking to you.” I read clear distain in her emphasis, though it vanished almost immediately. “Introductions!” This last was again called over her shoulder.
Another form silently materialized from the bushes, and it was big—really big. My heart thumped against my ribs, desperate for attention. While my sanity curled up in a quivering ball, my legs decided to get us the hell out of there. My knees twisted, but neither foot budged.
“And turn down your fear factor before the boy fouls himself.”
If I could think rationally, I might be offended. The tin cup my heart played across my ribs slowed to match the thumping of Max’s tail as he let out a yip of greeting. Stupid dog didn’t know enough to be afraid. He should be growling and snarling, ready to fight for his master.
Not that he would have a chance. The wall of green scales towered over us, and the creature was still down on all fours. Golden eyes gleamed around vertical pupils as it flowed forward, mouth agape to expose insanely large teeth.
“Edan Johnson, you have the honor of addressing Tia, goddess of peaceful death and chair of the Neutral Council.”
Well that didn’t sound good, especially coming from the mouth of a talking dragon. Those headlamp eyes had turned on me before, and I’d caught glimpses of the sinewy wings and massive foreclaws in my dreams.
“You’re that horned serpent Pina talks about!”
“Uktena, human.” The dragon dipped his head a fraction, getting a bark of excitement from Max.
“And the canine,” Uktena added, expelling a sigh of steam.
I hauled Max back so he wouldn’t get singed, but the gust seemed to be unintentional. My dog didn’t care. He strained at the end of his lead, trying to get in a good sniff. Hauling on his leash felt solid and real, and gave my mind something to focus on besides the impossible creatures confronting me.
“You must divulge no more information to Kokopelli’s children.” The woman’s voice was an imperious tenor that resonated with authority.
It was the kind of command that got your attention. Even Max gave up trying to get to Uktena and slunk back to my side. But I was tired of everyone telling me what to do and not do. Piper saying to avoid magic, Mom and Dad insisting my sister accompany me across country, Quinn’s repeated rebuffs, and Koko’s own pushing. I couldn’t catch my breath between direction shifts and had had enough.
“What do you care?” I asked, heat rising. “Someone needed to warn them of the danger.”
“Knowing about their heritage is the danger.” Tia ignored my question. “You cannot instruct them. The balance must be preserved.”
“What balance would that be?”
“There is only one balance. Meddling from the spirit world cannot be permitted.”
“You want to stop him, to keep us from surviving!” Koko had said many opposed his plans.
“We are neither light nor dark. What has passed is unimportant. We are charged with keeping the balance. Your siblings are best served by keeping to their own devices. I cannot stop Kokopelli from speaking with you, sharing what he knows, training you. Do not pass these things on.”
Pass them on? It wasn’t like I was going to start training the Brights or something. All I had done was tell Anna’s friends about Koko and the Grims. I didn’t know if they could control the elements or even do magic. Though indicators had come up in our discussion: those little glimpses of supernatural beings, everyone’s passion for music, and the unexplainable events they experienced. Warning them had been the least I could do. The buddy system for avoiding Grims would help, but wasn’t a true solution.
“If they have power, they can protect themselves.” I said, causing her eyes to narrow. “Self-preservation has to be part of the balance of things. If you don’t want the human race to go extinct, you must want them to survive.”
“What will be will be. We care not about the outcome.” She sounded angry, the echo of her voice taking on a buzzing edge. “What is of import is neither faction gains undue help nor hindrance. Equilibrium must be maintained. There will be no more warnings.”
And to hell with the humans, was her clear implication. She didn’t care that Randy died or people got hurt. More superior beings pushing us around, and now…issuing threats. I sucked in a big lungful, ready to give her a piece of my mind.
“Where’d she go?” The air whooshed out of me in surprise because the person I addressed was gone.
“Away,” Uktena rumbled, as though amused.
I bit down a few snarky replies about the big creature being master of the obvious. My anger let common sense through sometimes. I supposed the goddess of death was technically more dangerous than the serpent, but there was something about having a dragon stare you down that just made a guy cautious. I wiped sweaty palms on my jeans and realized I’d dropped the dog leash.
“Max!” The big doofus sat on the dragon’s front-right foot—actually sat on it—panting happily and leaning against a muscular foreleg as wide as my shoulders.
Uktena shifted gingerly as if not to disturb my stupid dog. He pushed at him with that big green snout, but Max just gave him a lick and leaned harder.
“Heed Tia’s advice. She rarely takes time to speak with mortals. And”—Max let out a huge yawn, threw a leg over one of the dragon’s massive claws, and settled himself more comfortably—“get this animal to bed.”
“It didn’t sound like advice,” I muttered and ducked low to grab the leash.
It took tugging and coaxing to get my dog away from the dragon. I avoided looking the giant creature in the eye, disliking the watery-bowel sensation that accompanied its gaze. I slumped back to my room, not even sparing a backward glance for the monster and too weary to really process what just happened.
20. Wonder Dog
“S
TOP TOUCHING ME!” Anna slapped at Pina, but the sprite dodged back.
Piper wondered if they were making any progress at all. They’d worked at calming the Bright all night, but she seemed inconsolable. She and Pina traded off catnaps on the rare occasions Anna took a breather from railing against the world and asking for her friends. Bringing Aarav or Claude in would give them a break, but Anna wanted the Grims that abducted her. No way was that happening.
Waves of serenity again washed over the agitated girl as Pina called up magic. Anna slumped back, eyes heavy. It would help for a time, but the breaks grew ever shorter.
“I don’t understand.” Pina drew a ragged breath, shuffled over, and plopped down next to her. “The drugs are gone and there’s no sign of active magic. She should get better.”
“Can you try any tricks besides the calming thing?” Piper asked
Sunlight streamed in under the heavy blackout curtains and painted bright streaks across the bedding. The lines swam in Piper’s vision. A solid three hours of sleep would do wonders. Barring that, she needed caffeine—lots of caffeine.
“I could wrap her in illusion so she thinks those nasty friends of hers are here.”
“That wouldn’t be healthy.” Piper patted the sprite’s back and spoke with cheery confidence. “We’ll come up with
an answer.”
“I’m missing something.” Pina hopped to her feet and frowned at the girl dozing on the bed. “Something simple.”
“Coffee and food…and sleep. I’m going to see what I can rustle up while she’s out. Will you be okay for a bit?”
Pina nodded absently, so Piper grabbed her jacket and headed out the door. She ran a hand through her hair, grimacing at how her fingers caught. She must look a fright. It was wonderful to watch the sprite work and kick around ideas on magic—honest to goodness magic—but if there wasn’t a breakthrough soon, they’d need to call in help. But what kind of professional dealt with magically induced trauma? Maybe it was time for her dear brother to get his buddy Koko involved. Healing was one of the Indian spirit’s aspects.
Movement down by the lake caught her eye. Someone bent over the railing by the old ash tree. A big black shape sniffed the grass nearby.
“Ed!” She abandoned thoughts of mocha goodness.
He was thoroughly engrossed in playing with the twisted metal railing, but Max swung his shaggy muzzle up and wagged a greeting. The railing hummed under his hands, and the faintest nimbus of energy glowed along its length. He used magic to bend the fish ornaments this way and that, the Earth element if she wasn’t mistaken.
More and more, Piper found herself able to pick out spell threads. Sometimes, like now, she could even see the energy. That happened most frequently with Ed, a few times with Pina, and once with Quinn. Her understanding grew as she studied the magical world her brother blundered into. The bit she sensed made her heart ache for more. Oh, to have such abilities… She bit her lip and tasted blood. It was hard not to long after the power, doubly so because it was real. Ed thought she was jealous, but learning about this mystical world was enough—it had to be.
Ed accepted the world of magic and mysticism surprisingly well, given he grew up scoffing at Piper’s forays into the occult. But he still only played at it, not bothering to look deeper. The energy willingly responded to her brother, flowed through him and all of nature, but so did the costs. Simple exhaustion and cold were just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. Here he was again reshaping the twisted railing, scarfing down a lunch that couldn’t possibly be free.
“What ya doing?” Piper asked when she was so close he could no longer ignore her.
“Hey, sis.” The flat little fish and kelp designs flexed and swam to their places as the underlying metal fencing flowed back to its original shape. “Had to fix what I broke.”
“They have maintenance. No sense pushing yourself.”
At least he had the decency to blush as he grounded the spell. She felt it drain into the earth as the glow faded away. A grimace flashed across his face, but he plastered on a fake smile that looked as if—
“Yaahhh!”
The wild cry brought both their heads up to catch a pink blur racing across the parking lot. The door to her room stood open, and Pina dashed out calling after the fleeing form.
“Anna!”
Weak from her constant use of magic, the sprite stumbled. Piper ran after the girl, Ed close on her heels. Anna made a beeline for the ruined sector, back toward the last place the Grims had been. If she crossed the main road, they’d lose her among the decaying buildings.
Anna sprinted through the parking entrance, a good twenty yards ahead, and ignored Piper’s calls. Even the pulsing rumble of a big diesel engine didn’t get her attention.
“Watch out!” Piper screamed.
Anna rushed straight into the street, heedless of the municipal trash truck barreling too fast to stop. Brakes hissed and squealed—too late. The pavement lurched, knocking Piper off her feet. Pain blossomed in her hip and right hand as it grated across asphalt. Anna cursed as she was thrown to the ground in the middle of the street. The truck swayed left and right, its shocks compressing as the ground continued to rumble and jump. The front wheels left the pavement and the massive vehicle hopped sideways, missing the fallen girl by a foot.
Smoke and a terrible screech poured from the tires as they locked, and the truck slid to a stop farther down the road where cement pylons barricaded a dark storefront. Atop it all, Piper heard…drums. Impossibly, faint music throbbed with the ground. Shinedown’s “Cut the Cord” pulsed beneath her knees as though she struggled to stand on a drumhead. She whipped around searching for the source.
Ed knelt on one knee, his right palm flat on the pavement. Golden-brown waves of energy crackling with crimson fissures pulsed down the length of his arm to disappear into the ground. Cracks developed in the asphalt as the surface broke up. A line of destruction stretched from her brother’s hand out across the street.
“Stop it!” Piper staggered across the shattered ground. “It’s over; Anna’s okay.”
She stumbled again, nearly falling as the footing abruptly stabilized. Ed’s spell drained away quickly, already grounded by its very nature. She traced the line of broken asphalt. Sandy substrate cascaded from the underside of giant slabs along the fissure running from mid-street to a few feet in front of her brother.
“They are going to be soooo happy you fixed the railing.”
Ed blinked, gave a half smile, and collapsed sideways. Piper looked back to the street. Pina helped Anna to her feet. The girl looked dazed and made a feeble attempt to push on toward the city. Max let out a deep woof, darted into the street, and herded the girl back. Max and Pina flanked Anna and got her moving in the right direction. The girl clutched the scruff of the dog’s neck, seemingly content to let herself be lead to the room. One down.
How the heck was she going to drag her brother’s ass back inside? Piper winced as she knelt and her bruised hip flared. Ed breathed normally, but was pale as a ghost. Cold sweat rolled down his clammy face and glistened on the paw-shaped bruise peeking out from under his collar. The old wound looked swollen and painful, but was the least of her worries. Rule one of Mom’s first aid drills: shock could kill.
“Ed, wake up.” Piper threw her jacket over him and slapped his cheek with her left hand, the one without stinging gravel ground into it.
“Yeah?”
“Stay with me.”
She looked for something he could use as a crutch. A folding parking sign lay amid the destruction. She scurried over, kicking away rubble and several spikey green plants that poked through the debris. The molded plastic sides snapped off the hinge with a bit of prying. One would make a passable crutch—assuming she could get him on his feet.
“Talk to me, Ed.”
She chose her footing carefully on the way back, but looked up when her brother didn’t answer. A gray blob engulfed Ed’s head. She rushed forward, bringing the sign up in an overhand swing. Her foot came down on one of the stupid plants, smashing it to gel as it skidded out from under her. Piper yelped, her abused hand taking the brunt of the fall.
The blob had spindly arms and pointed teeth. It hunched over Ed, shoving something toward his mouth. Was that…candy?
“Ralph, how did you get here?” Piper panted in relief, but of course their friendly house imp didn’t speak. “Never mind. Ed can’t eat right now. He needs his bed.”
Ralph wagged his head and dropped his hand. The colorful candy vanished into whatever the little guy used for pockets. Although the imp barely came up to her brother’s knees, his presence helped. More slapping earned her a bleary eye cracking, but when Ralph peered in for a closer look, Ed came fully awake and tried to push away.
“Take it easy. You know Ralph. He followed us.”
The jolt of waking to a face full of fangs and some heaving and cursing got Ed on his feet. They thumped across the unbroken ground with her under his left arm and the parking sign under his right. Back at the room, Ed collapsed on the bed opposite Anna. Piper ignored the shouts and voices filtering in from outside and focused on her brother. His breathing was regular and his pulse strong, but just to be safe she stuffed pillows under his legs and buried him in blankets.
Pina sat on a chair by the door, her le
gs dangling halfway to the floor. Anna gave Piper and Ralph a curious, half-awake inspection while absently petting Max. The dog laid his head back down in her lap, and the girl smiled through half-lidded eyes, her feral need to get away forgotten.
“Max keeps her calm,” Pina said. “Ralphy!”
The imp gave a toothy grin and scampered up to sit next to the sprite. They made a cute pair.
***
My head throbbed. Blankets pinned me down, comforting yet stifling hot. Throwing them off seemed too hard, as did opening my eyes. The spell worked too well. Either some latent seismic stress or the frantic way I’d thrown the spell together made the ground too eager. I cringed, remembering the damage.
Something pushed between my lips and clicked against my front teeth. I sputtered and spit out the hard nugget, but another replaced it. My eyes creaked open to blurry colors that made no sense. Gray fingers plucked a red blob from my pillow and stuffed it in my mouth. I bit down this time and tasted sweet cocoa goodness.
“Ralph?”
The little guy sat next to a pillow mounded with candy-coated chocolate bits. He pushed another at me, but I managed to dodge at the cost of an icepick through my temple.
“Okay, buddy, enough for now. Let me get a drink.”
“You missed all the excitement.” Pina handed me a cup.
The water tasted of chlorine, but I gulped it down. Piper’s room was getting crowded. Anna and Max shared the other bed. The girl seemed much calmer than the last time I’d seen her, but she was surrounded by tufts of black fur, having apparently petted my dog to within an inch of his life.
“Where’s Piper?”
“Out checking on things.” Pina scooted Ralph over and sat down. “Everyone’s frantic about the quaking. You poured a lot into that one. Ralph’s chocolate will make you feel better.”
