by E. M. Fitch
“Let me down!” he bellowed. The trees creaked under the strain. “He needs us! Can’t you feel—”
Laney did not let him down; she didn’t acknowledge him at all. She squeezed Gaia’s arm, let her fingers stroke through the mountain lion’s fur, and turned to run. The faery girl followed her, and somewhere, now far, far away but following steadily, her mountain lion sprinted to catch up to them.
I think I’ll call him Finn, Laney thought as she spirited herself away through the trees, hoping beyond hope that she was right to bring Gaia along with her. Finn MacCool.
“Jon!” Ryan called out, a joyous welcome and a warning. The line of Fae behind the truck scattered at first, running to the bloody slick their king left on the asphalt. From the surrounding forests, a wail of fury rose, and with a scattering of bramble, swarms of hobgoblins ran into view. Interspersed in their mix, the pale, pink hats of the Red Caps bobbed. The Boys were hungry, Cassie knew; how they had waited this long was anyone’s guess. Unless it was under his orders—the king now smeared across the road.
Cassie looked overhead, watching as the birds carrying flaming twigs from the ever-approaching fire stuttered mid-flight, dropping their goods and diving toward the middle of the road. Tiny claws landed in sticky syrup and cawed at the sensation. The blue sky was gone, too far blackened by smoke to be seen. Small fires broke out in the Town Green; one of the bits of burning debris dropped by a pixie-controlled raven had caught in the Girl Scouts’ memorial flower bed. Some of the townsfolk in the tennis courts screamed, the mist having left their senses now, and the distant sound of feeding cut through the quiet that existed beyond the distant roar of flame and fire.
“I killed a guy,” Jon stuttered, getting out of his truck and nearly falling to the ground in the process. “I freaking killed him. Did you see? He was coming at you, but still. Shit.”
“It’s okay, man,” Ryan muttered, running forward to help his friend. “It’ll be okay.”
“But the guy—”
Before he could finish his sentence, the Fae advanced.
They came in a line of growling monsters whose appearances shifted like molten wax to a flame. Perhaps it was their anger, but they seemed unable to hold form. Now Cassie recognized none of them, though they all knew her. It was her name they hissed as they ran forward, climbing Jon’s truck and leaping from the hood. Their fingers stretched to claws, their jaws hung like the unhinged jaws of a snake, ready to bite and devour.
Jon scrambled back on his hands, crab-walking, unable to take his eyes from the insanity that ran toward him. Ryan yanked him to his feet and put a club in his hand. Cassie didn’t wait to see the reaction from any of the rest; she ran forward to meet them, screaming.
Her club found the male that formed the spear point of the advancing line. She brought it forward with a home-run swing, crushing his skull with the force of her blow. The iron melted skin, and the smell of burnt flesh joined the bouquet of burning foliage and collapsing town buildings as his body dropped at her feet. Cassie left him twitching on the pavement and grabbed the door Jon had left ajar when he scrambled out of his truck. She threw it wide open, catching a faery in the face and dropping her to the pavement. She used her sneakered foot to stomp her forehead, bashing the hand that reached for her with the end of her club.
“Cass, duck!” Ryan yelled. She listened immediately, falling on top of the whimpering faery girl. Blood mingled with maple syrup; Cassie’s forearms and knees were coated with it. Directly above her, Ryan swung, and from the thump that followed, Cassie knew he hit his target. The faery body flew off the back of the truck, and Cassie watched him land and bounce, skidding through glass fragments and honey-colored goo. And then she saw what lay beyond him. Aidan.
The faery king was moving.
Suddenly there was no other target. Not for Cassie. Aidan was alive still. He would prompt them further. He needed to be stopped. She didn’t get to her feet. She slid from the faery girl under the car. She could hear Gibbons screaming for her, heard the sounds of whacking and thumping and tearing—clubs hitting faeries and faeries clawing back—but none of that mattered. Aidan mattered. For the first and last time, he would get what he wanted: Cassie’s undivided attention.
A swarm of hobgoblins rose between Cassie and Aidan. Iron at her side, coated in maple-scented blood streaks, Cassie stepped forward. She swung in broad strokes, not bothering to aim. Every blow landed with a hiss of pain and the scent of charred flesh. The end of her club caught on ribcage and jawbones, but it never stopped. Claws ripped her flesh and climbed up her body, and she ran, kicking and thrashing, and yes, even biting when one of the dry fingers reached too near her mouth. With a scream of fury, she spun in a wide circle, dragging her weapon in an outstretched hand. Beyond her, she could feel the pain of the forest, the keening wail that begged her to stop. She couldn’t. She refused. She would get to Aidan and end this once and for all, goblin lives be damned.
With her free hand, she reached for the tiny fingers that grasped for her neck. In a move like breaking tree branches, she snapped its fingers. The beast swiped with a howl of fury.
“Get off her!” A petite figure flew into the swarm, swinging so wildly she almost caught Cassie in the chest with her club. Instead, she knocked the beast that clung to Cassie’s back, maiming another six as she spun, now standing back-to-back with Cassie. The ring around them was thin; Cassie could run through it now, but she couldn’t leave Samantha. Her friend heaved deep breaths behind her but kept her back pressed tightly, ready to fight.
“He’s still alive, Sam,” Cassie whispered, bringing her club up in her softball swing again. The hobgoblins tittered in front of them, though more than half lay at the girls’ feet, hurt or dead, Cassie couldn’t be sure.
“We’ll get him,” her friend hissed in response. “The rest are coming. This ends today.”
Behind them, Cassie heard the sounds of fighting, of bodies thunking on top of the truck. But to her left, something even stranger sounded. Cries of fury rose from the tennis courts. Without the mist, the crowd began to wake. Not all of them, no. But some. Some who had seen the creatures of the trees in passing and turned their heads in curiosity, because something did seem off about them. Some who had listened to Mrs. Evans, Anna and Jessica’s mother, and who believed something was happening out there in the woods. Some who knew that fairytales existed for a reason, and that the reason might just be because they contained some kernel of truth. Those people shook the effects of the mist, saw the Red Caps feeding and the hobgoblins devouring. They saw the birds spreading wildfire and destruction, and the vile creatures whose faces shifted and jaws unhinged. They saw, and they were mad.
They were furious.
From the enclosed courts, a war cry echoed.
A man rushed a Red Cap, toppling the child-like creature whose lips were stained red with blood. Another ran toward the nearest fire, ripping a shirt off and beating the flames back; another pulled out a cell phone and called for more fire trucks, more police, more help. One of the women pointed toward Cassie and the rest, then brought a shaking hand to her mouth before breaking into a run toward the battle at the top of the hill.
The hobgoblins that surrounded Cassie and Samantha trembled. When the girls advanced as one, clubs held high, they scattered. In the tennis courts, the Boys screeched in fright, unused to being confronted by so large a group. Another was slammed to the green floor, held in place by adults much larger than he was. He wailed and thrashed against their hold. To Cassie’s left, Ryan, Jon, and Officer Gibbons arrived, all huffing and some bleeding. Blood trailed from Ryan’s mouth, and Cassie had the fleeting urge to wipe his beautiful lips clear. The faeries that had rushed them either lay in bodies on the pavement behind them or were running toward the tennis courts, trying to get control of a situation they had obviously let get out of hand. And before them, Aidan struggled to his feet.
His face was misshapen and grotesque, his lips split and caked
in dried blood. The skin from his left cheek was razed, scraped to the bone that shone white and appeared obscenely clean beneath. But his eyes were blazing a clear, furious blue. He stood on trembling legs and outstretched his hands, calling from every side for the forest to aid him.
It did. The trees shifted. The wind sent a swirl of healthy, green leaves. The ground shook at Cassie’s feet, knocking her sideways and into Samantha. Roots sprang from cracks in the pavement, some large enough to shift the truck behind them. The earth literally quaked, and Aidan laughed a high, maniacal laugh as the undergrowth of the forest overtook the pavement, as oaks grew in the middle of the street, stretching limbs that could have been ancient into the sky. Trees sprouted around them—an instant, magical forest in a puddle of broken glass, bloody syrup, and crumbling pavement. Behind Aidan, the turned-over tractor trailer, its unfortunate driver still encased in the cabin, was covered in bright green moss. Cassie could still see the tennis courts, the Town Green, the dip of the road that led toward the donut shop and the pizza place, but they all stood in blazing sunlight, while Cassie and the rest were already shaded by oak leaves.
Aidan stood in a tiny clearing, the cracked pavement just visible at his feet. Young growth surrounded him, and springy moss spread like a carpet at his royal feet. His laughter slowed to a pained chuckle, and he stared at the group before him with nothing more than irritation.
“I have the entire forest at my command,” he said. Even as he spoke, tiny flowers wound their way up his broken leg, as though offering gentle comfort to their king. “Every tree will bow, every root will break free and restrain you if I merely whisper a request. And you stand there with golf clubs, covered in sugared tree sap.”
The outside world could be seen, though barely. Cassie couldn’t tell who was winning. And other than the occasional screams, all she could hear was the encroaching inferno. Whatever police or fire response had been called, they hadn’t found a way through yet. Both the library and the town hall were well past gone, and the fire spread, looking for more to consume.
“Every road in or out of this town has been blocked. Ancient trees gave their lives to end this place, falling over streets, toppling your electricity poles. This town will be gone by nightfall, and then, yes, we will leave, too.” Behind him, shadows appeared against the tree trunks, the Fae returning to his side. “We will leave this town to be reclaimed by the forest,” he roared, bringing his mangled hands up and reaching to the sky. The earth shook around them, and more life sprang forth; more undergrowth swelled and choked the trimmed grass and crumbling sidewalks. The cemetery was already overrun completely. The flagpole on the green creaked and then bent, clinging vines reaching a flag that could no longer wave.
“You will be buried here. Every last one of you. And the world will wonder where you’ve gone,” Aidan continued, stepping forward. His legs shook with the effort, but the resolve hardened in his tone. “The world will wonder, but not for long. Humanity has a way of forgetting its losses. They will forget you, too.”
“Rush him,” Ryan whispered through gritted teeth. Cassie saw, from corner of her eye, her boyfriend’s grip tighten on his club. Next to him, Gibbons’s jaw was set underneath his torn, damp mask. The older man looked briefly to Cassie and nodded.
“Now or never,” Samantha said softly, her voice no more than a carrying breath. Anna looked to Jon, who stood behind her, and then both looked to Cassie, waiting for the sign.
Samantha was right; it would be now or never. The shadows behind Aidan were still only shadows; the screams from the tennis court may be from losses or gains, there was no way to tell, but at least they were from conscious humans; the roar of the flames sounded louder, and Cassie could feel a definite heat on the right side of her body. Her hand was slick with sweat but also sticky with faery blood and syrup. She adjusted her grip, as she had done so many times under her softball coach’s instruction, and ran forward, confident her friends were at her back.
The forest revolted, as Cassie knew it would. She had run from this before, jumping roots and dodging brambles—only the last time she was running away from Aidan. Now she was running toward him. She heard a huff of pain and knew Jon had fallen. Gunshots sounded from her left, and branches shattered as they sprang in the way of bullets. A girl cried out, though whether it was Anna or Samantha, Cassie couldn’t tell. The earth heaved at her feet, and a wide chasm broke between Cassie and Aidan. Without pause, Cassie sprinted forward and leaped through the air. She landed on the edge of the growing crevice, not daring to look back. The earth at her heels crumbled, and she jolted forward. Behind her, chunks of pavement fell.
“Cass!” Ryan screamed. He and Gibbons skidded to a halt, separated and unable to follow. Cassie chanced a look back. Ryan panted at the edge of a rupture in the earth’s crust. The darkening chasm separated them and ran down into the town, into the forest, a complete barrier that now spanned more than six feet. Gibbons held his gun outstretched, two hands wrapped securely around the grip. His sights lined up with Aidan, who, Cassie turned back to see, stared down the barrel with an amused expression.
He was hurt, but he was recovering. Already the trees seemed to comfort him. He breathed deeply and returned his gaze to Cassie, ignoring the two men on the other side of the massive ravine he had created.
“Alone at last,” he purred, stepping forward. “Or should I say, alone again?”
Anger flashed through Cassie hotter than it ever had before. She didn’t care about the trees that would try to stop her, didn’t care about the faery shadows that drew closer and would probably kill her when they got there. Aidan was ten feet away, he was alone for now, and he was hurt. She ran forward, brandishing her club. She swung with all her might, and though he reared back, she clipped his skull and sent him flying back in a blur of green leaves and charred flesh. She pounced at him, landing on his legs, and used the club in her hands as a bar against his chest. She pushed down, feeling the give in his flesh as it reacted to the iron. Smoke singed from underneath her fingers, and she growled as she pulled one hand back, closed her fingers into a fist, and slammed it home right in the center of his face.
His nose cracked under her knuckles before a vine could wind its way around her arm and yank. They were a blur of limbs and teeth and whipping branches. From beyond her bubble of war, she heard the cries of Gibbons and Ryan, the hurried gunshots that went ricocheting into trees and nowhere near Aidan or herself. Samantha screamed, and the shadows of faeries loomed closer, closer, and then were there. Claws ripped at Cassie’s leg. Aidan’s terrifying new face, marred and showing bone, loomed close enough to kiss as they scuffled together on the shifting forest floor. A thin branch wrapped around Cassie’s neck. Her golf club was snapped in two by a maple that tried to twist it free of her grip. The end of the club was now a sharp point that Cassie used as a dagger, thrusting into Aidan’s ribcage and just missing his heart. He howled in agony and pushed her off, into the arms of his faery friends, who wrestled her to the ground and kicked what was left of her weapon off into the forest.
Cassie lay panting, faery blood staining her fingertips. She growled as she struggled, feeling more feral than ever before and loving it. The earth beneath her buzzed with energy, and she felt that familiar suck that meant it was once more embracing her. She screamed in rage, pulling at the limbs that were held fast by faceless Fae.
“End her,” came the raspy command of the bloody king. Ryan screamed as Gibbons fired his last, useless shot. The trees shifted to absorb his bullet and then settled with a sigh. Cassie struggled to look back and could just make out her friends, all staring back at her and unable to reach her.
“Please, no, wait,” Samantha pleaded. Anna, ragged and bleeding from her forehead, begged as well. Jon joined in, crying out with the rest for them to wait, to stop, to please not do this.
None of the humans were heard. A large faery, one Cassie was sure she recognized, loomed overhead, a sharpened wooden stick in his hand.
He pointed it at her chest and drew a deep breath.
“Stop.”
Unlike every other protest, this one was heard. A path in the forest appeared, laid with moss and lined with lavender. Fireflies flitted along the perimeter, though even from the darkest part of the forest, she would have been seen. She strolled casually into the grouping, her fingers idling on the head of a mountain lion. The beast purred roughly and stretched his neck to allow the petting. Behind her, a faery Cassie recognized lingered, her expression torn and fearful, but determined.
“Laney,” Cassie called. She struggled against the faeries who held her still, watching her friend. Laney stopped, her new pet lingering at her side, his brown eyes watching the others warily.
“Release her,” Laney said softly, nodding at the Fae on the ground beside Cassie. They did so immediately, and Cassie stood, shaking. She tore her eyes from her best friend and instinctively looked for her broken club. Laney, sensing her distress, nodded to her left. “It’s back there, Cass.”
Cassie turned and immediately saw her shard of iron. She hurried to grab it; wrapping her fingers around the grip was immediately comforting.
“Sister,” Aidan snarled, his tone making it clear that he considered Laney anything but, “you have no right!”
“I have every right,” Laney said, her tone still soft. “It’s over for you, Aidan. I will bow to you no longer.”
“You can’t—”
“I can!” Laney roared. Her finger elongated against the mountain lion’s fur, and she seemed to rise above the ground—though, looking to her bare feet, Cassie could see that it was the earth itself, raising her up above the rest. Her voice took on the ringing, musical quality that came only when she had embraced the forest as her own, and the shadows behind her eyes darkened, turning her irises near black. “I am queen, Aidan. I am your queen. I have been since the moment you slayed Corra. And you’ve known, dear brother, all this time. Corey was next in line, not you. He was your elder, and I am his wife. The title is mine, and I will not relinquish it to you.”
