by Cory Barclay
The sun was beginning to fall, slowly crawling down the sky toward the horizon. Steve stared at that sun—it was the same powerful star that warmed both Terrus and Mythicus. These two realms—these planes—were more interconnected than he’d ever realized. And he wanted to know more.
Geddon said, “Just think on it, Steve. For now, you both should follow me. I’ve established a hideout in these parts—that’s why I’ve brought you here to begin with. Before the sun goes down completely, I’d like to take you there and introduce you to a few people.”
The trio kicked their horses into gear and took off down the hill.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
STEVE KNEW THE PEOPLE Geddon wanted him and Selestria to meet. They were the Nawao warriors he’d first met in the woods outside the Reynolds’ household, though now there were more of them.
Twelve strong, native Hawaiian men and women were settled around Geddon’s hideout, close to the cemetery. Geddon had found a plot of land removed from most prying eyes. It was hilly, green, beautiful, and overlooked a small valley. On Terrus, the valley would be the southern tip of Limestone Canyon Regional Park in Orange County.
Steve greeted the Nawao leader, Ulu Koa, with a firm handshake. The tall, muscled warrior had a stern expression on his flat face. He didn’t seem to smile much. Then again, he was basically a social justice warrior of the mythical world. He probably didn’t have a lot to smile about with all the wars and disputes going on, Steve figured.
Geddon’s hideaway was a simple wooden longhouse. A lot of small rooms split the haven, as well as a large main room where all the Kinship members could congregate.
Geddon called a meeting and everyone gathered in the large room. The Nawao stood near the walls, out of the spotlight, and Steve glanced at them one by one. He was pleased to see Selestria was not the only female in the group. That would’ve likely made her uncomfortable. There were three women in Ulu Koa’s group of twelve.
They all looked as severe and serious as the men. Their bodies were chiseled and shaped from years of labor and outdoorsy activities, like the men. One of the women was Ulu Koa’s wife. Pua Kila, as she was called, was the shortest person in the group, just over five feet. Her arms were almost as thick as Steve’s thighs and not nearly as out of shape, though.
When everyone had convened in the room, Geddon began the meeting. “Ulu Koa, Pua Kila, these are my two friends, Selestria and Steve. I understand you’ve met Steve before. They are stalwart members of the Vagrant Kinship and you can trust them.”
“I know that to be true,” Ulu Koa said formally. “I first met Koa Steve in the southern woods. I read his aura and saw it to be true and pure.” The other Nawao members nodded, observing Steve closely.
It made Steve uneasy. He felt like he had to say something, so he asked, “What does Koa mean?”
“Warrior,” Ulu Koa said.
Steve smiled. First he had been called a “stalwart member” of the Kinship, then a “warrior,” by a true warrior. It boosted his pride and self-esteem. He worried that if his head got any bigger, he wouldn’t be able to fit through the small door leading out of the room come the end of the meeting.
“We all know what is at stake here, don’t we?” Geddon asked the group.
Some people, most notably a couple of the Nawao, seemed noncommittal. Steve himself knew the gist of it: the goal was to find the Kinship leader, Tetsuo, and free him. From there, they’d try to find the Parallel Reflector, a magical mirror that could do special things. Beyond that, Steve had no idea. Would there be a battle? Steve knew his own personal mission misaligned with the Kinship rebellion’s mission. His was to free Annabel from her terrible obligations and the family willing to sell her body and soul.
Whether they were committed or not, no one interrupted Geddon.
“Steve here has become an adept dream-leaper.”
Ulu Koa turned to his warriors to elaborate. “He travels through the mind’s webs.” A few of the warriors nodded and muttered in their own language.
Steve didn’t know if Geddon’s words were true, but he went along with it. Maybe Geddon knew more about the whole thing than he did—it was because of Annabel that he was able to dream-leap at all. If anything, she deserved recognition for being a good teacher.
Geddon turned to Steve. “Will you do as I asked earlier and rendezvous with Aiden O’Shaunessy in Ethereus? It sounds like he is expecting you.”
Steve narrowed his eyes. Geddon was being a bit persnickety—announcing something like this in front of fifteen people made it difficult for Steve to oppose. It would make him seem like a coward. Especially if it was something that could benefit “The Cause.”
“Who is this Aiden O’Shaunessy?” Ulu Koa asked.
“He is a former Kinsman that went awry and traveled to Terrus. He has told Steve he wishes to barter—the man is a notorious gambler—but it’s in our best interest to see how he can help us.”
Ulu Koa nodded.
Even though Steve didn’t like Geddon’s tactics, he also nodded. “I will do it.”
“Good,” Geddon said. “You can go to a different room if you’d like privacy. I’ll speak strategy with the Nawao and relay to you later everything said here. We must discuss how we’ll find Tetsuo.”
Steve stammered. “Oh . . . you want me to do it now?”
“There’s no time like the present.”
Steve cleared his throat. “Right, then I’ll just . . . be in the other room.” He scratched his head and wandered out. He wondered, Is Geddon having me leave so he can discuss something he doesn’t want me to hear? What could he possibly tell these twelve strangers that he couldn’t tell me?
Steve knew he was being paranoid. Geddon probably wasn’t hiding anything, he simply wanted to be proactive. But Steve realized that, in the back of his mind, he still didn’t completely trust Geddon. He’d felt the same lack of trust with everyone he’d met on Mythicus, except for Annabel.
The small room had a hearth and comfortable looking chair next to it, a table, a tiny window, and little else. The fire was lit and through the window he could see darkness beginning to seep into the region.
He sat in front of the fire, took his golden coin from his pocket, and clasped it in his hands. He leaned back to rest his head. What if this doesn’t work? What if it was a fluke that led me to Aiden’s house the first time?
He closed his eyes like he’d been taught.
When he opened them, he was in the same gold-tinged house he’d been in before.
“Damn, I am getting good at this,” he said aloud.
He was in the hallway outside the room where he’d first spotted the chest full of gold coins. He was right where he wanted to be.
It was strange, but in Ethereus—this dreamy spirit world—everything seemed more real than on Mythicus. On Mythicus, there was a slight shift in reality—the air seemed different. He could feel the wind on his skin when there wasn’t any breeze. Colors were brighter and changed. Annabel’s eyes had flashed purple, brown, and turquoise in a matter of seconds. Lady Dosira’s eyes had shone an unnatural blue when she’d gotten angry at her son for breaking his father’s guitar.
But in Ethereus—the world that was supposed to be dreamlike— things seemed more concrete and real. He touched the gold-lined wall next to him, the stucco firm beneath his fingertips. He breathed in and felt his chest expand from the air like he was in a stuffy house in San Diego.
He chuckled to himself and shook his head.
“You are indeed getting good at leaping, mate,” a voice called from inside the room.
Steve’s chuckle died on his lips. Aiden had been waiting for him. Time to get to business. He stepped into the room and saw Aiden standing in the same spot as when he’d woken up the first time: behind the brimming chest of gold coins.
For a moment, Steve imagined the chest was an illusion. It seemed too fake to be real, like something out of Pirates of the Caribbean. Who the hell worked with gold currency anymore? He
supposed leprechauns might, but still . . .
“You’ve come back,” Aiden said.
“I have, Captain Obvious.” Steve’s eyes darted around the room.
Aiden smiled wryly at Steve’s dig. “I’m glad, mate. Have you thought about my offer, then?”
Steve cocked his head. “You never told me your offer . . .”
“Oh, right. You disappeared before I could.” He stopped talking and put a hand on his beard, rubbing it absentmindedly. “I can provide wealth for the Kinship rebellion. Even though we aren’t on the best of terms, I can provide funds for recruiting, for resources . . . all that jazz.”
“Doesn’t Geddon know that?” Steve asked.
“I’m sure. But you’re my liaison, Steve-o. Geddon and I don’t get along very well. That’s why I’m talking to you. You do see the benefit my family’s wealth can bring, aye?”
Steve shrugged. He wasn’t sure what use the Kinship had with monetary support. But money made the world go ‘round on Earth, so he assumed it was the same on Mythicus.
“And in return?” Steve asked.
“I want to be Seared back to Mythicus. Since I’ve lost all contact with my Seeker and my connection with him, that means I’m free to be Seared by a Myth Maker.”
“Such as Geddon,” Steve said.
“Such as Geddon.”
Steve didn’t like this. Though Aiden had been a member of the Kinship in the past, he was still a murderer in Steve’s eyes. He’d killed the Druid, January Amos, and Steve wanted to know why.
He knew he was treading over thin ice when he said, “Did you really kill January Amos because she’d figured out your plan? That you planned to take Annabel and I to your ‘master’?”
Aiden’s face screwed up, his eyebrows arching. “What on God’s green earth are you talking about?”
Steve stayed quiet. That was not the response he’d been expecting. At all. He was partly baffled and partly angry that Aiden would be so quickly offended by the accusation.
Finally, Steve said, “Come on, Aiden, I know what you did. We all do—me, Dale, Scarlet . . .”
Aiden waved his hands in the air. “Hold on. I had nothing to do with January Amos’ death. I promise ye.”
“I don’t believe you. You’re a liar and a con man.”
Aiden said, “Yes, I am those things. But I didn’t kill that woman.” Then he fell quiet, as if trying to contemplate how to convince Steve of his innocence. After a long, tense pause, his eyes lit up. “But I know who did.”
“Bullshit,” Steve scoffed. “I see the way you’re looking at me. Can you really expect me to believe any of the words coming out of your mouth?”
Aiden sighed. “You clearly don’t know what’s going on on Mythicus, mate.” He circled around the chest and came to stand in front of it. His proximity to Steve was much closer than Steve would have liked. Steve took a step back and glanced to his right, at a painting hanging on the gold wall where Aiden had been standing.
Aiden crossed his arms over his chest. “Look at me,” he said, drawing Steve’s attention back to him. “January Amos was killed by Overseer Malachite. Or by a lackey of his.”
Steve crossed his arms over his chest, too, mimicking the leprechaun. “Why would he do that?” he asked in a mock-serious tone. “He has enough troubles here on Mythicus, without delving into Terrus’ problems.”
“Because his problems on Mythicus are connected with his problems on Terrus.”
Steve cocked his head in confusion.
“A quick history lesson for ye: before Overseer Malachite became Overseer, he was married to a woman, Overseeress Garnet.”
“I’ve heard the name.”
“Garnet was the matriarch of the Brethren of Soreltris. All the leaders of that cult were female, until Malachite came along and shit on the hierarchy.”
“Did he kill Garnet?”
Aiden shrugged. “Juries still out on that one. Anyway, Garnet obviously had a different name from her title.” He paused and walked back toward his gold chest, as if it provided comfort to him.
Steve rolled his eyes. “I’ll bite . . .”
Aiden spun around for dramatic effect. “It was April Amos.”
Steve’s heart skipped a beat. Though he’d never heard that name, he had an idea what Aiden would say next . . . January, February, March, April.
“She was related to January?” Steve asked.
“You’re quick on the uptake, Steve-o.”
“Fuck you.”
“Yes,” Aiden continued. “April Amos was January Amos’ older sister. When she died, I’m sure the newly inherited Overseer Malachite worried his sovereignty would be jeopardized by April’s little sister.”
Steve couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He’d be able to find out soon enough if the timeline Aiden was feeding him was true or not—but he expected Aiden wasn’t lying.
“So January was killed because of Mythicus politics . . . in a world where she no longer existed . . . so that she couldn’t claim her rightful position as leader of the Brethren,” Steve said in a low, angry voice.
Aiden nodded. “Now you’re getting it.”
“What are the chances January would have come back here to claim her crown?”
“Is that relevant?” Aiden asked. His voice seemed spiteful, like all this had personally impacted him. “And the answer is: very slim. Why do you think January went to Terrus in the first place? To get away from Mythicus and the civil conflicts. She was happy running her psychic hocus-pocus shop.”
“Dammit,” Steve muttered. He didn’t want to believe Aiden. The whole time he’d been dead set on Aiden being the bad guy here, and a murderer. But the leprechaun made a compelling argument. He tried to remember Aiden was a con man.
He shook his head and turned away from Aiden, not willing to look him in the eye. He faced the wall and the painting Aiden had been standing in front of.
Turning back to Aiden, he said, “If—”
He cut himself off. His eyes shot back toward the painting on the wall.
No freaking way, he thought.
There was no mistaking it.
The painting was the Portrait of a Lady.
Steve’s mouth fell open. He jabbed a finger toward the painting. “You have . . . the fucking painting!”
Aiden screwed up his brows again, following Steve’s finger to the wall. “Oh, that ugly thing? It used to belong to my old friend Tetsuo—I’m sure you’ve heard his name by now. He’s the leader of—”
“I know who Tetsuo is,” Steve interjected. His mind was racing. He wanted to scream, to tell Geddon and Selestria he’d found it!
“Screw the gold,” Steve added.
“Huh?” Aiden was uncharacteristically baffled.
“Give me that painting and I’m sure Geddon will Sear you to Mythicus.”
Aiden scratched his head, then shrugged. One eye was bigger than the other, as if he was trying to deduce whether Steve was tricking him or not. Then he said, “Deal. You have to come to my house, on Mythicus. I’ll be here on Terrus. As a Myth Maker, Geddon can see me. We’ll do the Conveyance and I’ll hand over the painting at the same time.”
“Fine,” Steve said.
Aiden lifted his hand above his head, his middle finger and thumb together. He said, “Wake up,” and snapped his fingers.
Steve opened his eyes and coughed, jutting upright in his chair. He was glad Ethereus wasn’t like a dream—that the memories didn’t vanish as quickly. Otherwise, he would have forgotten what he and Aiden had agreed to moments ago.
He jumped up and ran into the other room. Everyone was quiet and somber, listening to Ulu Koa talk about something in a low voice.
All eyes turned to Steve as he ran in.
“I found it!” he shouted.
“What?” Geddon asked.
“The painting! Tetsuo’s Conveyor!”
Chaos took over—voices exploding in the room like an orchestra, everyone talking all at once. Then Geddon
raised his hands and shouted over the din: “Where is it?”
“Aiden O’Shaunessy’s house.”
Geddon was shaking his head. “Of course,” he muttered to himself. “He and Tetsuo used to be good friends. How could I not see that as a possibility?”
Steve said, “I’ve made a deal with him.”
“Oh boy,” Geddon said.
“In return for the painting, you will Sear him to Mythicus.”
Selestria gasped. Geddon was quiet. His face seemed to sink, like that was the worst thing he could be asked to do.
“What’s the matter?” Steve asked, glancing at the puzzled faces.
“You don’t know what you ask of Geddon,” Selestria said. It was clear Geddon wasn’t going to elaborate, so Selestria continued. “Every person he Sears to our world drains his power. No one knows how many people can be Bound to another before his or her life-force is taken completely. Do you understand?”
“You mean . . . Searing Aiden could kill you, Geddy?” Steve was dumbstruck.
“I’ll do it,” Geddon answered firmly. There was resolve and strength in his words. “If it will help us find our leader, it is worth it.”
Selestria seemed ready to object, her mouth open, but then she shut it. And Steve knew why: Selestria was Tetsuo’s wife. She cared for him deeply. Of course she was willing to make sacrifices and risk lives to save his. Even Geddon’s, apparently.
“But I have no idea where his house is,” Geddon said.
A communal groaning swept through the room.
Steve scratched his chin. That could be a problem. He thought Geddon surely would have known where the leprechaun lived, since Aiden was a former Kinsman.
Then a light bulb went off in Steve’s head.
“I do,” he said.
The people faced him again.
“I’ve been to his house before.”
“What—where? When?” Geddon stammered.
“It’s in Bay Park,” Steve said. “Clairemont.”
Everyone in the room fixed him with blank stares.
He chuckled.
“My bad,” he said. “It’s back in Central Soreltris. Not far from the Bayfog Cliffs.”
