by E. A. Copen
Mask stopped about halfway and called, “That’s far enough, Your Majesty. Any farther and I’ll have to give the order to open fire.” He gestured to the ramparts where archers with flaming arrows waited.
Nate pulled his horse to a stop. “Let her go.”
“Gladly,” said Mask, “with your surrender.”
“Cede control of Summer,” Remy demanded, “and I’ll kill you myself.”
“That’s hardly a deal,” Mask spat. “As opposed to what?”
“As opposed to handing you over to Lazarus.”
Mask burst into laughter. “Nice try. My spies on Earth report Lazarus is dead and you’ve brought me his replacement, a green nobody with even less magic. The mantle of the Pale Horseman is no longer a threat to my rule.”
“Your rule?” I snorted. “I thought he was supposed to be paving the way for the elder gods to come through or something.”
Khaleda smiled viciously. “And what of your masters? I wonder how they will feel when they find out you’ve deceived them and taken all the power you promised them for yourself, Mask.”
Mask’s cool façade dropped, but only for a moment. He sneered at Khaleda. “They’ll do nothing. Let them be angry for whatever good it will do them. I have succeeded where they failed for thousands of years. All this power, and they want me to use it to open the gate and set them free? Why? So I can rule over the ashes alongside them? Why be their equal when I can be their master?” He drew a knife and held it to Jessica’s throat. “Last chance. Surrender and she lives. Fight, and she dies here and now.”
An arrow sailed through my chest and slammed into Mask’s wrist with a loud thwunk. He snarled and dropped the knife, his hand now completely useless.
I spun around. Whoever had shot that arrow was a crazy-good shot. One inch either way, and he would’ve hit Jessica.
Declan sat atop a white horse about twenty yards behind us. He lowered his bow and nodded at me as if to say, “You’re welcome.” Or maybe he was nodding to someone else, considering he probably couldn’t see me. Nate’s infusion of power had worn off a short while ago.
Mask howled, ripped the arrow out of his wrist, and tried to plunge it into Jessica’s chest, letting go of her chain. Another shot from Declan snapped the arrow’s shaft in two.
Nate jammed his heels into his horse, surging forward.
Mask snarled and flung a black, sparking spell at Jessica. It hit her and her horse reared up, preventing Nate from grabbing her. Jessica fell from the saddle and hit the ground.
Mask tugged the reins on his horse and fled at full speed before anything else could go wrong, screaming as loud as he could, “Charge! Forward, to victory!”
“Is she okay?” I darted to Nate’s side as he made a clumsy dismount and knelt next to his still daughter.
Nate pressed his head to her chest and put a hand over her mouth. “She’s not breathing!”
“They’re charging. We have to go!” Khaleda shouted.
“Get her up, Nate. Come on.”
“Oh, no! What do I do? I don’t know what to do!” He repeated the phrase over and over again as he tried to figure out how to lift her.
“Nate! Lift her and let’s go. We can’t help her from here.” I balled up a fist and punched his arm.
All he did was shiver, but it was enough to jar him from his panic. He swallowed, scooped up his daughter, and put her on the horse.
The forward charge was almost upon us. Even if we turned and rode at full speed, we wouldn’t outrun the giant monsters with their huge gaits.
“Go,” shouted Remy, drawing her sword. “We’ll keep them off you.”
Nate got back into the saddle and rode back toward our line of troops. Haru broke away from the front line to meet him, katana in hand. Ulmir must’ve thought that was the signal to go because he gave a war cry and ran forward, his troops falling in behind him. The rest of the army followed sluggishly, unsure.
That wasn’t the plan. They were supposed to wait there for Mask’s troops to hit our line and hold the damn line. Everything was going wrong. Remy hadn’t even had a chance to raise the ghosts of the field yet, and I couldn’t even guess at where Finn had gone. I darted back toward the camp. Wasn’t anything I could do against Mask’s army, but I could help Nate save his daughter.
The Fomorian army bore down on Remy, Khaleda, and Queen Everleigh. For a moment, they were all lost in a sea of black bodies and flashing steel. Then Remy cut through two fae at once, and Everleigh drove her spear through three fae. Khaleda charged through the line of Mask’s troops surrounding her, forcing them to move or be trampled. Remy and Everleigh followed but were quickly caught again in the fast-moving current of battle.
Ulmir rushed by me, stopped after a few paces, and pulled the trigger on his grenade launcher. With a loud thunk, it fired a grenade into the crowd ahead, and a small mushroom cloud explosion cleared an entire three by three space of anything living. He roared with laughter, turned, and pulled the trigger again.
A Nightclaw closed on Ulmir and slashed at him with its claws. A bullet ricocheted off its armor-like hide and struck one of the tentacled monsters, leaving a temporary hole. The monster shivered and filled the hole with a squishy black jelly.
“Not the Nightclaws,” Remy shouted. “Shoot at the fae!”
Chaos spun in bloody circles around me. Fae fought fae with swords and shields, every once in a while falling when a bullet struck them. Nightclaws ripped through anything and everything, even their own men when they got in the way. Trolls pounded squishy tentacles into the ground with spiked clubs, and Ulmir’s grenades became a steady heartbeat in the background of thunk, whistle, boom, thunk, whistle, boom.
I couldn’t think, let alone find my way through the carnage. People ran through me. I floated over rivers of blood and narrowly avoided both arrows and bullets.
I turned, surveying the fighting all around, the only sound registering now the thunk-whistle-boom of the grenades. I can’t do this. This is too much. I exhaled and pushed myself higher, flying above and away from all the fighting. From above, the battle seemed far less chaotic than I knew it was. Mostly brown specks crashed against mostly black specks, barely visible in the shadow of the waxing moon. Streaks of flaming red cut smoking arcs through the sky and the Summer palace gleamed white as if it were alive.
A terrifying roar shook the air, and a huge dragon clawed its way over the wall. Roshan had lost a lot of weight since I had seen him last, becoming practically skeletal. His eyes looked over the dead land without seeing, his stare vacant. Another of Mask’s puppets had come to fight, and I was no match.
Three black, triangular shapes zipped by me, diving to engage the dragon. The Tengu had arrived. They turned, altering their flight path and avoiding the dragon’s raking claws at the last second. Roshan roared when he missed and spat a stream of sticky fire at the Tengu.
Kaage-sama flew up to me and halted. “Where is the Pale Horseman?”
I didn’t know what to say, so I stuttered, “You can see me?”
He couldn’t frown, but I got the distinct impression he wanted to. “Hardly the time for cliché ghost exchanges, my friend. We need to field War and Death, Lazarus. Get them and drag them to the battle, kicking and screaming if you have to.” He flapped his wings once and took off, shouting behind him, “Hurry!”
I searched the horizon for our temporary camp and spotted it on the hill. Nate would’ve taken Jessica there. War was with him last I saw. I dove for the camp, speeding up faster than I’d ever gone. I was there within seconds.
Just as I expected, Nate had laid Jessica on the ground doing chest compressions. Haru stood a short distance away, his sword drawn, ready to defend Nate from anything that made it that far. Whatever Mask had done to Jessica, I didn’t think CPR would help, but maybe magic would.
“Nate,” I called as I came up to him, “chest compressions aren’t going to help.”
“I have to do something!” He gritted his teeth and went
back to it.
“Mask hit her with magic. We need to use magic to fix it. I need you to turn on your Horseman vision. It’ll allow you to see if her soul is still present.”
He paused compressions. “How?”
“Just focus on what you want to do, and only that. You’re going to close your eyes, and when you open them, you’ll be able to see people’s souls.”
He shook his head. “How am I supposed to stop thinking about the battle and about Jessica?”
Haru heard our argument and ran over quickly. “You’re a surgeon, right?”
“I’m an assistant—”
“You cut people open, yeah?”
Nate nodded.
Haru thumped Nate’s forehead. “What’s in there?”
“Ow,” said Nate, rubbing his head. “My brain?”
“How do you know?” Haru pushed. “You know because you’ve seen it a million times in other people. You know the skull of a living person contains a brain with absolute certainty. We all have souls too. You need to believe that with the same certainty, Nate, and it will be so. Close your eyes. Focus on the sound of my voice. Let everything else fade to background noise. The heart pounding in your chest? Take a deep breath and it’s calm, like a still pool of water. Your skin is cool as if you’ve just come into an air-conditioned room on a hot day. All your aches and pains have gone from the forefront of your mind, retreating to some distant place. Are you with me?”
Nate nodded slowly, eyes still closed.
“Good,” said Haru. “When you open your eyes, you will no longer be Nathan Frieder, assistant medical examiner for New Orleans Parish. You’re the Pale Horseman, and the Pale Horseman can see souls. Souls, Nate. They’ll be plain as day to you. You can do this.”
“I can do this,” Nate repeated.
“Now open your eyes.”
Nate slowly opened his eyes and let out a small gasp as he looked at Haru. “Oh my! They’re beautiful!”
“Focus, Nate,” I said. “Is Jessica’s soul intact?”
He looked down at his daughter. “I think so. It’s going dim, though. That doesn’t seem good.”
“It’s not,” Haru said. “You’re going to reach in and give it a little jumpstart the same way you made Lazarus visible earlier.”
“Like a defibrillator for the soul,” Nate said.
Haru nodded. “That’s right. Just gently reach in and give it a little power.”
Nate did exactly as Haru instructed, moving slowly but with a newfound degree of certainty. Bright blue power sparked at the end of Nate’s fingers and ran in lines over Jessica’s soul.
Jessica’s eyes snapped open and she sucked in a desperate breath. “Father?”
“I’m here,” Nate said and pulled her into a hug. “I’m so glad you’re all right.”
I cleared my throat. “I hate to cut the reunion short, but Kaage-sama told me to get you two back to the battle.”
Nate pulled away from his daughter. “But I can’t just leave her here alone!”
“He’s right,” Haru said. “She’s only barely come back from death. She shouldn’t be left alone.” He stood, put two fingers in his mouth and let out a loud whistle.
A minute passed as he waited, staring at the sky.
I looked around. “Um, is something supposed to happen?”
Haru waved his hand. “Give it a minute.”
One of the Tengu swooped down from the sky and landed next to us. “Hai, Haru-san?”
“I need you to protect this woman. She’s Death’s daughter. Keep her alive, even if the battle goes badly. Understand?”
The Tengu bowed.
Haru gestured back toward the battle. “There. We can go now.”
Nate hugged Jessica one more time. “I’ll be back for you. I promise.”
Between the Nightclaws and Roshan, we’d already lost a lot of people by the time Nate and Haru rode back to join the fight. But Mask had lost more. His fae were all but defeated, leaving only his forces from the Nightlands to take down.
“Stay close to me,” Haru told Nate as they rode for a Nightclaw that had Remy pinned down. “And if you see any bad guys with souls, grab and pull.”
Haru rode in hard and slashed at the Nightclaw’s side, drawing sparks with his katana. The creature was a near-impenetrable living wall of armor and blades, complete with sharp teeth and spit that could melt flesh. It turned away from Remy and snarled at Haru.
Haru brought his horse around and, smirking, swapped his normal katana for his second option. The polished blade practically gleamed with hunger as he held it out. “Come and have a taste of Muramasa, ugly.”
Fire rained from the sky all around us as the Nightclaw leaped toward Haru. It sliced at him with the blades on the outside of its arms, kicked at him with its feet, and used its long, bony tail to stab at him, but Haru was quick. He was always one step ahead of wherever the Nightclaw swung. As fast as he was, it wouldn’t do him much good unless he could find a weak point to strike. Every time he sliced or stabbed at the Nightclaw, the blade slid aside, doing nothing but creating more sparks.
Ulmir stopped nearby and pointed his grenade launcher at the Nightclaw Haru was fighting only to curse when he realized he was empty. “More grenades!”
The female troll turned away from the tentacled monster she was busy beating to a pulp with her club. “I’m out! Ask Henry!”
Above, the dragon roared and came around, ready for another attack. Remy was square in his sights until two Tengu slammed into Roshan’s side, knocking him off course. He turned and spat fire at them both, managing only to set one alight. The Tengu screamed and plummeted toward the ground, feathers smoking.
Haru let out a grunt as the Nightclaw sliced his side. A dark spot quickly spread over Haru’s red tunic. He put his hand over it to try to slow the flow of blood, but it cost him the one advantage he had. Hurt as he was, Haru could no longer keep up his speed. The Nightclaw hissed and swatted aside his sword. Haru stumbled back.
Remy ran to engage the Nightclaw, though her sword was no more effective than Haru’s. Even when she pressed her palm to the creature’s side and tried to unleash her death magic, nothing happened. The Nightclaw swatted her aside with a loud roar. She pushed herself up out of the mud, bleeding from a deep gash beside her nose.
Two more Nightclaws loomed, ready to pounce.
Gunfire erupted behind me. I turned around to see Emma backing away from Roshan who’d landed. The huge dragon closed on her, roaring and spreading his wings. She raised her guns and pulled the trigger. Nothing. Out of bullets.
I looked at the sky, hoping the Tengu would come to her rescue, but they were all either already injured and on the ground, or busy pulling archers from the towers.
“Nate!” I shouted.
He whirled his horse around, wide-eyed.
I pointed to Roshan. “Soul!”
Nate blinked. His jaw went slack a moment as he beheld the huge, bony dragon, then he clenched his jaw and dug his heels into his horse to race across the battlefield. Another Nightclaw leaped down from the wall above and into Nate’s path. He dodged it on horseback as if he suddenly knew what he was doing and leaned forward.
I flew ahead of him to see if there was anything I could do. Unlikely since I was still just a disembodied soul who couldn’t interact with the physical world, but it wasn’t going to stop me from trying. I spun around Roshan, shouting, kicking, trying anything to get him to notice me.
The dragon didn’t so much as flinch. He waited for Emma’s back to hit a big rock, then dropped down on all fours. His mouth opened, and bright, glowing fire appeared in the back of his throat.
“Fuck this,” Emma shouted and threw down her empty guns. She punched Roshan square in the chin.
His mouth snapped closed and he blinked, unhurt but surprised.
Emma squared up with the dragon. “You want to roast me, Smaug? I’m going to make you work for it.”
If I hadn’t been so terrified, I would’ve b
een proud. I mean, who wouldn’t be? My woman was about to throw down with a dragon and she referenced The Hobbit? Baby nerds grow up so fast.
Roshan growled and opened his mouth to bathe her in superheated sticky fire.
Nate leaped off his horse and straight onto the dragon’s back. Roshan reared with an angry roar and spat his fire at the sky. Nate gripped his scales and held on, squeezing his eyes shut.
Roshan pushed off the ground and soared into the sky, trying to shake Nate off his back.
I took off and followed him, just in case he needed me to talk him through it. “Nate! Get his soul!”
“I’m trying!” Nate shouted. He chanced opening one eye and shrieked as he looked down. “Did I ever tell you about my phobia of heights?”
“Come on, man. You can do this. You’re not just Nate the assistant medical examiner anymore, remember?”
He swallowed, opened his eyes, and nodded. “Okay, I’ll try.” With gritted teeth, he let go of Roshan with one hand. The wind from the speed we were moving almost pushed him off the dragon’s back. Nate gasped and threw himself back against Roshan. His hand plunged in through the dragon as if the scales and flesh weren’t even there.
Roshan roared and breathed superheated fire into the sky all around us as Nate yanked out the tiny glowing green ball.
“Now what do I do with it?” he asked, holding it out to me.
“Eat it!”
“What?” He wrinkled his nose at it. “I know I’m not kosher anymore, but there are things I still won’t eat, Lazarus. I’m pretty sure this counts!”
Roshan let out one last sad roar and folded in his wings. His head drooped, and he fell from the sky as dead weight.
Nate screamed.
I had to work to keep pace with him, as fast as he was falling. “Eat it if you want to live, Nate. It’s like those power-ups in Pac-Man!”
He cringed, but he put the soul in his mouth, chewed and swallowed. His eyes widened, and he lifted both hands to look at them. “Whoa! Tingly!”
