Asenath

Long Awaited 12-08 (Heretical Edge 2)

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Well, after that little revelation and explanation, it was time to find out what Asenath had wanted to talk about. And as it turned out, she had a mix of good and bad news herself. Namely, she finally had more information about where her long-lost father was. That was the good part. The bad part was that the information she had pointed to one of the Garden Victors (a guy I didn’t know by the name of Kyril Shamon) being the guy who was holding Tiras. Or had been holding him several decades earlier. For all we knew, those guys traded their Alter slaves like Pokemon cards. Or Pokemon themselves, come to think of it. Why were cards my first thought? 

In any case, Asenath went through explaining all that, with some input from Twister about how fucking cool it had been to ambush the man they got the information from with what was apparently Senny’s first field-use of her new ability to borrow powers through drinking blood. 

“I mean,” the Pooka was saying, “we basically made her into a vampire that can turn into a bat. By which I mean, a proper vampire. Kinda silly that the rest of them don’t, you know?”

“I’ll bring it up at the next convention,” Asenath dryly replied, “make sure everyone knows just how silly it is that we don’t have the power to shapeshift. Maybe we can get it in the next patch.”  

“You’re teasing,” Twister noted while pointing at her. “But a vampire convention would be awesome. Especially if there was like, a werewolf convention next door and the walls fell down. Battle royale, last person standing is the champion of that old rivalry once and for all.” 

Shaking her head as she muttered something about having no idea where the idea of a werewolf-vampire rivalry had come from when the real Akharu rivalry was with Vestil, Asenath eventually looked at Mom and me. “Anyway, that’s where we are now. It’s… it’s something, at least. After all this time, I finally have a name to go off of.” 

“A name is a good thing to have,” I agreed. “Especially when you’ve been looking for this long without even having that much. But uhh, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of this Kyril Shamon.” 

“I have.” That was my mother, her voice contemplative. “Though he’s better known as Tarhunz.” 

“Wait, wait,” Twister suddenly put in, “he’s not the Tarhunz, right? I mean, when it comes to really powerful Heretics, it’s just good to check now and–you’re nodding why are you nodding?” 

Offering the girl an apologetic grimace of sorts, Mom quietly confirmed, “Yeah, that Tarhunz. Or Tarhunna, as the Hittites knew him. Or even Teshub, as the Hurrians knew him. He got around.”

“Uh, I’m sorry, what?” My hand was raised as I looked back and forth between the other three. “Can someone stop to fill in the person without a degree in ancient mythology? Tarhunz, Tarhunna, Teshub, whatever he used to go by, who is this guy? Or who was he? Why is him being these other names scary? I mean, we’ve met a lot of scary people already, you know?” 

Mom and Twister looked to each other, with the former gesturing for the latter to go ahead. Which made the Pooka girl grin happily as she turned back to me and launched into an explanation. “Tarhunz, he was basically this super-badass weather god for these bronze-age people in the Middle East. Like, their main guy. When he was Tarhunna for the Hittites, he and the Sun goddess of Arinna were top of the top. They ruled the heavens or whatever. This guy was the chief god for a lot of people back then. Even Bystanders know that from their little history clubs.” She gave me a pointed look, fox ears twitching. “You know what it means in real terms if Bystanders know this guy was god-level important back then. God-level important means–” 

“Means god-level powerful,” I finished with a grimace. “And you said bronze-age. That’s before the Bystander Effect. Which means humans and Alters all lived together, people knew about magic, yada yada. So this guy couldn’t just do a few little tricks, make a couple sparks fly, and maybe summon a little drizzle to really impress everyone. If they saw him as a god at that point, he had to be really strong. Strong enough to hold onto that position through the people who would’ve been trying to knock him out of it. And he did that for, you said three different groups of people back in those days?” Heaving a sigh, I shook my head. “Right, and if he was that strong even before getting the Victor upgrade–hang on, what kind of Heretic was he before?” A sudden thought had struck me in that exact moment, and I really didn’t like it. “I mean, what was he a Natural Heretic of? Cuz, like, being a super-powerful storm manipulator makes me think–”

“He’s not a Sachael Heretic,” Mom assured me, erasing that particular worry from my mind, at least. “He was linked to a Raijin, a Japanese storm-being. How that happened is anyone’s guess. He doesn’t exactly give classes on the subject, from everything I’ve heard. He’s quiet about his past. Quiet in general, really. Except when it comes to fighting. Then he gets loud.” 

Yeah, a guy who was known as a storm god for a bunch of ancient, magic-using civilizations getting ‘loud’ didn’t sound like a good thing to me. Especially not when that same guy was apparently now an Eden’s Garden Victor, and had apparently been holding Asenath’s dad prisoner for awhile. All that just seemed to add up to very bad things, as far as I was concerned. 

Apparently Asenath agreed, because she heaved a long, audible sigh. “Like I said, good news and bad news. Now I have a lead on my father, but that lead just happens to be someone powerful enough to backhand swat me across the continent if I try to demand answers.” 

Reaching out, I touched the other girl’s arm. “Guess it’s a good thing you’re not alone then, huh? Trust me, Senny, if you ask that guy for answers, you’re gonna do it with a lot more than just yourself standing there.” With a small smile, I added, “I mean, you’re my girlfriend’s sister. Like either of us are actually gonna let you just go off and pick a fight with a Victor all by yourself?” 

“She’s right,” my mother agreed quietly, her eyes glancing to me briefly before she focused on Asenath. “You have many friends. When the time comes, you won’t be alone. We’ll help you.” 

“Exactly, dude.” With a thumbs up, Twister teasingly added, “And you know what? You’ve been such a good friend for all these years, I’ll even give you a ten percent discount for my help.” At a trio of looks from all of us, she snickered before relenting. “Okay, okay, I’m there regardless, eesh. You people want me to starve.”  

For Senny’s part, she was quiet after that, seeming to consider for a few long seconds before nodding. “I know. And I’m… I’m grateful to all of you. Truly grateful that I–that there are people who would help me find my father. My mother, she’ll want to be there too. But before we do anything about that, we need to know more about him. And, preferably, if he even has my dad at all. Or, for that matter, keeps him anywhere nearby. I mean, it’s possible my father is part of some group this guy stuffed into a random work camp somewhere and that we can save him without ever actually seeing Shamon, or whatever name he goes by, face to face.” 

“Possible,” Mom allowed in a very careful tone before adding, “but you know what they say.” 

“Hope for the best, plan for the worst,” Senny confirmed. “Which means we need to know more about him. Knowing is half the battle and all.” She paused briefly, then looked to the two of us. “And there’s always the chance that he was holding my dad as a favor for his Victor partner. Which means we’d have to know as much as we can about both of them.” 

My mouth had just opened to ask who that was, when Mom answered, “Ikita. The two of them run the Eternal Eye tribe. I don’t know much about her, only that she’s always seemed fairly reasonable about things, even if she is loyal to a bunch of murderous–” Stopping herself from what clearly would have been a very in-depth rant, she sighed before pushing on with the actual point. “In my experience, both Ikita and Shamon have always struck me as the type to play things quietly and close to their chests. They watch a lot, pay attention–there’s a reason their tribe is called the Eternal Eye, the watchers, the ones who wait and see things. They’re careful and they take their time. They are not as quick to jump to action as some of the other tribes. Which, in some ways makes them safer, and in other ways it makes them more dangerous.” 

“They were also Miranda’s original tribe,” I quietly pointed out. “She might know a lot more about them than any of us do just being on the outside. They were her leaders. Even if they didn’t stick their necks out to save her or anything, she probably spent time around them. And from the sound of things, we could use all the information we can get. About both of them, just in case.”

Asenath’s head bobbed quickly. “Miranda, yes. Her and anyone else we can talk to who’s had a lot of experience with these two, or just that tribe in general.” She frowned, mind clearly racing frantically from the very thought of how close she was, relatively speaking, to finally finding her dad. “There are some other Eternal Eye tribespeople with the Garden Rebellion, aren’t there?” 

“Some,” I confirmed. “Most of the tribe stayed loyal, but some of them left. We could probably talk to them too, besides Miranda. And Seller.” To that last bit, I added, “He wasn’t part of that tribe, but he spent plenty of time around all the Garden people. He’d probably know something important.”

For a brief moment, it looked as though Mom was going to say something about that. But in the end, she just offered a very faint smile. “Yes, there’s people we can talk to. No one is going to run into this blind but, I promise, Asenath, we will do absolutely everything we can to find your father.” She exhaled, a flash of emotion running across her face briefly before focusing. “After everything you’ve done for my family, I owe you that and so much more. When the time comes, we will all be there to help get your dad back, no matter where he is or who has him.” 

“Same.” With that word, Twister gave Asenath a quick, firm swat on the back. “She just said it a lot more poetically than I could. Or whatever. Point is, I’m right behind you. Or maybe in front of you. Or above, if I’m a bir–hey, the point is, I’ll be there. I mean hell, after all this time, I really want to meet the man behind the myth, the guy who helped give the world all this awesome.” Along with her words, the Pooka gestured pointedly up and down Asenath like she was a prize.

With a cough, Senny shook her head. “So, right now we just need more info. As much as we can get. Which means a lot of talking to people.” Offering me a slight smile, she added, “Good thing at least two of us have a lot of interest and experience with interviews, isn’t it?” 

“Three,” Mom put in. “I did more than my share back in Laramie Falls as the sheriff. And I figured out pretty quick how to tell when people knew more than they were saying, back during the… the first rebellion.” Her last words came quietly, as she gazed off into the distance. “It took awhile for me to learn how to tell who could be trusted, but I got there. Just a little too late.” 

Liam, I knew. She was thinking about Liam, and the fact that his betrayal had been what forced the Rebellion to go loud in the first place, instead of staying a quiet, subtle thing that could have built up a lot more strength and potentially beaten the loyalists. Instead, they had been forced into the open, leading to everything that happened. In a way, leading to my own existence. No wonder Mom seemed to have complicated feelings about that whole thing. I got the impression that she really would have liked to be in a room alone with Liam Mason for awhile. Though what would happen in that room, exactly, I didn’t know. And I was pretty sure she didn’t either.

Twister was already waving her hand. “Yeah, yeah, you’re all amazing investigators, whatever. Some of us spend our super-long lives doing far more awesome things. But hey, I think I can lower myself to doing a few interviews around here, for a good cause like this. Hey, if nothing else, I make pretty good muscle standing in the background being intimidating.” To demonstrate, she immediately transformed into an enormous grizzly bear standing on her hind legs, showing her teeth. 

With a cough, Senny nodded. “I’m not sure how much we’re going to have to intimidate the people who are on our side, but yeah, you’re always helpful, Twist.” Exhaling then, she folded her arms, clearly containing the emotions she was still feeling about finally having actual information she could use. Yeah, it wasn’t an immediate, easy jump from that to having her dad back, but it was something. It was an actual step, and for someone who had been stuck on the edge of a half-finished bridge with nowhere to put her feet next, having something firm extended to her so she could actually take that next step was important. I knew that from experience. 

Now all we had to do was take that little bit of information and turn it into something we could actually act on. No one was going to run up to this Shamon guy and get anywhere by demanding answers out of him. But, if we could get the right information about who he was and what he was up to, even where he might keep his prisoners, maybe we could actually find Tiras. Right now, it seemed like the best way to start would be to find and talk to my old best friend. 

And I could definitely think of worse ways to spend a few hours than hanging out with Miranda. 

******

As it turned out, Miranda wasn’t actually up on the station today. She was down with Dakota at the place where the Garden rebels had set up, helping with more of that whole ‘making the vines work’ thing. The good news on that front was that they now had an idea of what had been stopping the vines from working even after they were planted in the right place. The bad news, of course, was that the things responsible for hurting the vines were the Nuckelavee, servants of the big bad nasty thing living at the bottom of the ocean. No one knew why said big bad nasty thing was so interested in the vines, but it was obviously nothing good. 

But, knowing what the problem was had apparently led the Garden people to at least put up guards all around the spots where they were planting the vines, down on the ocean floor. They used strong enough Heretics, spaced close enough together, to make sure the Nuckelavee, or anything else their master sent, didn’t have a chance to get close to their prizes. It wasn’t a solution that could last forever, of course. But at that point, I was pretty sure the Garden rebels  just wanted to prove that they could keep the fruit coming. They’d deal with how to keep it safe in the long term once they actually got the damn things growing properly.

In any case, I eventually headed down there to find my friend. Mom didn’t come with me, since she still wanted to spend at least some time with the rest of the family. And, she said she’d contact a few other people to find out what they might know about Shamon.  

Spreading out to ask people things made sense, of course. That was why Asenath and Twister weren’t coming with me either. The two of them had been joined by Shiori and were going to talk to a few Alters up on the station or down in the Atherby camp who’d had run-ins with the Eternal Eye Victors or those close to them (apparently there were at least a couple who had once been held prisoner at Eden’s Garden). Which would hopefully lead to something. Especially the ones who have been prisoners. If they could tell us where the Eternal Eye prisoners were kept… yeah, it was a serious longshot that any would still be kept in the same place, of course. But it was something. And right now, we kind of needed any kind of lead we could get. 

At least I wasn’t alone heading down there. As soon as they found out what was going on, Koren, Sands, and Sarah had all volunteered to come with. I’d also taken the time to tell the three about the situation with Denise and what my mother had done, since they had been part of looking into that whole thing back during our first real Investigation Track meeting. All four of us had learned about Denise’s death before we even knew Ammon existed. That was when I’d been drawn to pick up the exact same things he had bought at the gas station when–huh. Did I ever find out why that had happened? Was it just a weird half-sibling connection thing, or some kind of… I didn’t know. Thinking about Ammon made me feel sick. 

We had called down ahead to let Miranda know we were coming, so she was already waiting there in the field behind one of the motels that the garden Rebels had taken over. As soon as we appeared, Randi came jogging up and embraced me tightly. The two of us hugged like that for a few seconds before releasing each other so we could step back and breathe. 

“Already throwing yourself into something new to take care of, huh?” the other girl teased. 

“More like something old,” I corrected. “This is dealing with something that’s been waiting to be dealt with for a long time.” With a grimace, I added, “And hey, it’s not like we can exactly hurl ourselves into certain death yet. We’re just…” 

Sarah finished for me, her voice flat. “Just doing the boring legwork to hurl ourselves into certain death later.” 

“Which,” Sands put in, “you have to admit, is a step-up from our usual way of doing things.” 

Coughing, I waved both hands. “Come on, no one’s hurling themselves into–okay yes we’re talking about a Victor. But the entire reason we’re talking about all this is to avoid that kind of danger. You know, find a way around him or how to… how to deal with it without a fight.”

Sands nodded. “Like I said, a step-up from our usual way of doing things.”

Before any of the others could say anything to that, the hair on the back of my neck stood up. An instant later, we all heard the sound of alarms going off, and calls to action from around the motel. Someone shouted something about Nuckelavee, which was just fantastic. 

My mouth opened, but a shout from Koren interrupted. The other girl jerked her hands outward, and a column of dirt rose up beneath the five of us, pitching our whole group out of the way. Flipping over in the air, I landed on my feet with one hand down for balance, sliding backward a couple yards. Around me, the others more-or-less managed the same, all of us staring toward the spot where we had just been. 

Sure enough, a Nuckelavee was there. God, the thing looked horrific. Like a horse with a rider, but all the same being. Covered in exposed muscle, with the human-part’s torso tilting back around the middle to reveal a huge secondary mouth beyond the horse-part’s. And speaking of the horse part, it had only a single, too-large eye, with an enormous, tentacle-like tongue that whipped back and forth threateningly. 

In the background, we could already hear other Garden people fighting. Which meant there were more than one of these things. Where had this one come from? It was just… there, all of a sudden. 

Wherever it came from, it was here now. And the rest of the Heretics around this place were busy. Which meant we had to deal with it. I just hoped we–

Koren’s hand grabbed my arm, as she blurted. “What the hell is that?!” 

I was about to remind her of what a Nuckelavee was. Then I realized she wasn’t talking about the thing in front of us. No, she was referring to the object or… or something that was streaking down out of the sky directly above our heads. For a second, all of us, even the Nuckelavee, looked up that way as the object–no… person got closer. A person who was flying down out of the sky, screaming in terror. Wait… no, that… that wasn’t terror. 

“Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!” 

And with that, the falling figure slammed into the Nuckelavee with so much force that the thing actually fucking exploded. Seriously, it was like Gallagher hitting a watermelon. Chunks of that monster went flying in every direction, splattering across the ground–and across all of us. Fucking gross, yeah. But mostly we were stuck staring that way in shock, none of us having a clue what the hell was going on. 

And then the figure who had fallen out of the sky popped right back to their feet–to her feet. She stood up in the midst of the… the splattered remains of what had once been a Nuckelavee. The girl was drenched in gore, but she appeared to be like twenty-one or so. Her skin was very tan, and she had long, snow-white hair that fell to her mid-back. She wore what looked like skin-tight leather clothing, but I couldn’t tell what color it was because all of it was entirely covered in bits of dead monster. 

“Hello, Felicity Chambers!” the woman blurted. “I’m so glad I finally found you!” 

“You killed my husband, Manakel.” 

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Long Awaited 12-07 (Heretical Edge 2)

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

In the year and some odd months since I had been officially introduced to this life, I’d seen a lot of crazy things. I’d heard even more crazy things. I had experienced and been told a lot that stretched my capacity to be surprised. I wasn’t going to say that I couldn’t be shocked, because that would obviously just tempt the universe into making it happen. 

But if the past year–hell, if the past couple days hadn’t made me immune to being left completely speechless, they had at least given me a pretty strong resistance. Which is why it was so impressive that, with one sentence, Mom had managed to leave me so utterly astonished, I actually literally stared at her with my mouth open while strange noises escaped me. They weren’t words, that much was for certain. At most, they were a random assortment of vowels and consonants with no real rhyme or reason. It felt like my entire brain took several long moments to entirely reboot itself. For those seconds, there was nothing of note going on in my head. Nothing aside from that last sentence from my mother playing on a repeating loop. It was like she had spoken in a completely foreign language and I was trying desperately to decipher the meaning. But I understood the meaning. Well, I understood what the words in that order meant, generally speaking, even if I couldn’t comprehend basically anything else about it.

My only real consolation in that moment was that I wasn’t the only one left standing there in shock. Asenath and Twister seemed equally affected, both of them actually taking a step back reflexively as they too stared at Mom. None of us found actual words to say for those few seconds, simply looking at my mother while opening and shutting our mouths like a trio of baby birds. It probably looked pretty funny from the outside, if anyone else had been watching. 

In the end, it was Twister who managed to speak first. Specifically, she blurted a quick, “I’m sorry, you did what with a Pooka respawn power? What the actual fuck are you talking about?” 

“Uhh, yeah, what she said.” I pointed to her without looking away from my mother, actual vaguely coherent words finally finding their way to my lips. “What’s going on, Mom? What did–what the–what?” Yeah, I did say vaguely coherent. At least they were actual words. 

Asenath didn’t say anything at all. She just stared at Mom silently, apparently satisfied enough with the verbal questions that Twister and I had managed to wait for an actual answer. 

As for Mom herself,  I could tell there were a lot of emotions running through her. Many of them conflicting with one another. She seemed sad, yet also proud. Lost, yet determined and focused. She was in deep mourning, but she was also happy in a sort of bittersweet way. There was regret, peace, grief, and acceptance. I had the feeling that she had gone through all of these feelings in much more separated detail for a long time, and what we were seeing was the abbreviated form jumbled together as she was in the situation of finally explaining what had actually happened. 

Finally, after a long, heavy silence, Mom started to speak. She didn’t look at me, or either of the others. Her gaze was fixed off into the distance, voice thick with emotion. “No mother should ever have to plan for her child’s death. Not in any way. Not in the sense of preparing for a terminal disease. And not in the sense of ensuring that should he ever die, he would not come back.” 

Silence returned for a moment while my mother’s eyes closed, and she took a long, deep breath in an attempt to steady herself. It didn’t seem to work that well, as her voice still cracked when she continued. “No mother–no parent who has ever lived should ever be put in the position of making certain that if their son dies, he will stay dead. I have hated some people in my life. I have loathed some of my enemies, those who have hurt me or those I love. But I would not wish such a fate on anyone I have ever quarreled with. No one should ever be in a position where they have to look at their child and not only plan such a thing, but–” Her voice broke then, and it took her a moment to force the words out. “–but actually enact it themselves.” 

Part of me wanted to reach out to her, but it felt as though this whole story was something she needed to get through without my interruption or distraction. So, clenching my hands, I watched and listened in silence. Of all the things I owed my mother, the absolute least I could pay her with right now was patience. I could stand here and wait for her to get through this on her own terms.

“And yet,” Mom eventually continued, “That is the very situation I was in. My son… my son was corrupted, changed irrevocably by that… thing. He took my sweet boy and he broke him. Magically, permanently broke him. He destroyed his sense of morality, took away any chance he had of being a good person. He was, at one point. He was my sweet boy, so curious about his–about everyone. He would have been good. He would have been a good boy, a good man.” Eyes closing tightly, Mom folded her arms, hugging herself as she continued in that lost, broken voice. “Fossor took that away. He destroyed my son. His magic was–the experimental spells he performed to erase Ammon’s conscience–his morality, there was nothing anyone could do to fix it. I tried–I looked–I asked–I did… I did everything I could. But there was nothing. There was no way to restore him, no way to make him what he once was. There was no way to fix him. And with his power–with the abilities he had… he would have done so much more terrible things as he got older. As a child, his evil was bad enough. But if he got old enough to become truly cruel, with the power he had to force people to obey his commands, the things he would have done…” Mom physically shuddered, mouth tightening a bit as her head shook. I could see the tears in her eyes as they opened once more, but she blinked them away stubbornly, forcing herself to focus on telling the story. 

“And then Fossor manipulated a situation that would make things so much worse. He ensured that Ammon killed a Pooka, Scott, and inherited his respawn power. Now, no matter what happened, Ammon would be a threat forever. Every time he died, he would simply come back as a child. Unless he was killed again before the Pooka’s respawning gift recharged, he was effectively immortal. Free to ruin people, free to torture and kill as much as he or his father wanted, with almost no consequence. He would grow up, destroy innocent lives, traumatize and break them. Then, if he was killed, he would simply wait in safety, grow up, and do it again. That was the future Fossor described to me, a future where my son would be an immortal monster who would never stop ripping innocent souls apart. That would be the legacy of my little boy.” 

The deep hatred for the monster who had done that, who had planned all of that and gloated about it to her, filled my mother’s voice in a way I had not actually heard her fully express before. This was something far worse than possibly anything else he had done, in a personal sense. Because this forced my mother to do something so repulsive to her, so wrong, that it had torn a bit of her own soul out to even consider it, let alone to actually do it. 

“I couldn’t let that happen,” she murmured, eyes closing once more as she folded her arms against her own stomach as though holding in the deep, horrible pain. When she spoke again, her voice cracked even more than before. She could barely get the words out. “I couldn’t–wouldn’t let my son become that. I loved him. Gods forgive me, even with the terrible things he did, I loved him. I remembered him as he was, as he used to be. I remembered the boy that Fossor killed, not the evil, empty shell he brought back to me. 

“But if I let it happen, if I let my love of who my son used to be stop me from doing what had to be done, then the things he did would be my fault. Every innocent life he destroyed, every person he killed, everyone he tortured and traumatized, every family he ripped apart would, in some way, be because of me. It would be because I couldn’t get over my love, because I couldn’t do what had to be done. Parents would lose their own children, and children their own parents, because I refused to do the thing that only I could do. I could save them from that. I could save all those future victims, could stop all those horrific things from happening.” 

Slowly, Mom lowered her head, staring at the ground as she almost inaudibly whispered, “All I had to do was condemn my son to permanently die. ” 

Okay, now I couldn’t resist. Seeing my mother like that, hearing her strained voice, I moved that way and reached out to take her hand with both of mine. “Mom.” I meant to say more than that, but the single word was all that managed to come out before the lump in my throat took over and I couldn’t speak anymore. Not that I really had any idea of what to say. It just felt like I should have something, like I should have a way of making my mother feel better. But how was I ever supposed to do that in this situation? I still wasn’t sure exactly what she had done or how she ever could have ‘given the Pooka power’ to this other girl. But everything she was saying, hearing the pain and loss in her voice as she remembered not the Ammon that we had known, but the one she knew before Fossor had turned him into… into that, made me want to resurrect that evil piece of shit just so we could all kill him again. And again, for good measure. 

After a few long seconds, Twister spoke. “Jos… how did you give this human girl Pooka resurrection? Especially after she’d already been dead for a long time. It doesn’t–how?” 

Mom’s hand squeezed both of mine before she straightened up a bit, squaring her shoulders. It was clear she was bracing herself, drawing strength from me, to push on through the story. “There are spells used to temporarily share or transfer the powers that Heretics have to someone else. Normally that’s just another Heretic. The Committee and the Victors for Eden’s Garden are two examples of massive versions of one of those spells. The Committee share all of their powers amongst one another, and the Victors share small portions of the powers that belong to every single member of their tribes. They’re similar spells. But another version allows for one or more Heretic power to be shared with any other person. It’s very complicated magic. And normally, impossible to do with an ordinary human. After all, most magic requires that you be a Heretic of some kind. But do you know why?” 

After exchanging brief looks with Asenath and Twister, I shook my head. Mom, in turn, offered a very faint, humorless smile. “It’s the Bystander Effect. The enchantment drains all magical potential from any normal human in order to sustain itself. That’s why it’s so hard to get things like healing spells to affect a normal human, because the Bystander Effect is draining their magical potential so the healing spell can’t find a foothold. And it’s the same thing in this case. Trying to magically share any Heretic powers with a normal human will fail because the Bystander Effect will suck up that energy for fuel to keep the worldwide enchantment going.” 

Falling silent for a few seconds as she clearly worked her way through several conflicting emotions, Mom finally pushed on. “But there’s one difference between a normal human and Denise that made the Bystander Effect no longer a problem.” 

“Was she a–no.” My head shook. “Ammon didn’t turn her into a Natural Heretic or anything. What–” 

“She was dead.” Asenath’s voice was quiet, yet certain. “Denise was dead. The Bystander Effect wasn’t affecting her anymore. It wasn’t part of her. Because she was dead.” She reiterated the last part with what sounded like pointed wonder as she looked toward the phone in my mother’s other hand. The phone that had shown us the video of an alive Denise. 

“Yes,” Mom confirmed. “Denise was dead. The Bystander Effect wasn’t targeting her anymore. So, I asked Fossor for permission to visit the grave. He thought my witnessing Ammon’s victims was a good thing. It amused him. So he allowed it, with very specific rules, of course. But those rules didn’t prevent me from doing what I needed to do. I used an old spell, one similar to the Committee power sharing ritual. It… it was taught to me by the reaper inside the lighthouse. He was–is my friend. I used the ritual spell to share one single power with Denise’s… body for one single moment. That was all I was capable of doing. A Pooka’s resurrection gift is incredibly powerful. It’s one of the strongest abilities imaginable. It’s so strong even the Committee can’t share it amongst themselves. But… using power that I stored up for months, I was able to create a spell that would transfer that specific power for exactly three seconds. Just long enough to work. The spell was set to trigger at one very precise moment.” 

“When Ammon died,” I quietly put in, realizing the truth. “You set the spell so that it would transfer his Pooka power to… to Denise for three seconds at the exact moment that he died.” 

Mom’s gaze met mine as she gave a slight nod. “Months of preparation, and even then, I could only transfer it for three seconds. Which, for any other power, would have been almost useless even for a living person. After all, how much use can a person get out of a power transferred to them for three seconds, using magic that’s stored up for months and requires a ritual that takes several hours to perform? Even more useless for a… for someone who’s dead. Taking that much magic and time to transfer almost any power to a dead person for three seconds would be basically the biggest waste of time and effort you could ever imagine.

“But not the Pooka resurrection. For three seconds at that exact moment, when Ammon was killed and that respawn power activated, it was transferred to Denise’s body. She resurrected, not him. And then the power transfer faded, but Ammon was–he was already dead.” Once more, my mother’s voice cracked and sounded like her soul was breaking. “He won’t… he won’t come back. The power activates upon death. Now that he’s gone, it won’t activate at all. It’s gone forever. I–” Her hand pulled away from mine so she could clutch her arms around her stomach. It looked like she was going to be sick. “I killed my son.” There was a horrible, soul-wrenching sound in those words. 

“Mom, no,” I quickly insisted while stepping that way to put my arms around her tightly. “Don’t you see? You didn’t kill him. You freed him. You said yourself that what Fossor did to him couldn’t be undone. Do you really think the innocent little boy you remember would ever want to be the thing he was turned into? He wouldn’t want to hurt and kill those people, Mom. Fossor thought he found a way to enslave that little boy into being his monster forever. That’s what he was gloating about, because he thought he beat you. He thought he made your son into a monster who would never die, who could never escape. But you stopped him. Mom, you saved him. You freed Ammon and let him move on.” 

Asenath spoke up. “You did a lot more than that. You made the hard choice, Joselyn. You sacrificed whatever small hope you might have had to eventually change Ammon back, to save everyone he would have killed in the meantime. All of the victims he would have tortured and killed, all those innocent people who would have been his targets. You saved them all. And you did it by making the hardest choice a parent could ever have to make. You chose not to save your son. You chose to let him die, so all his future victims would live. You freed your son from Fossor’s control, you gave up any hope you had of turning him back to the way he was, you saved every future potential victim, and… and you brought one of his victims back to life.” She still sounded completely floored by that last part. Which, yeah, no kidding. So was I. 

One of his victims.” From my mother’s voice, she sounded more guilty about the fact that she had been limited to that single resurrection than proud that she’d managed it at all. “He had a lot more than that. But I couldn’t do anything for the rest of them. I had to pick one. And Denise was… she was the innocent person he killed on his way to meet Felicity. Because of the stories I told him. He wanted to meet his sister because I told him about her. About you.” She glanced toward me, eyes blinking back a rush of obvious tears. “I–I couldn’t let that stand. When I saw her mother–when I looked at that woman and thought of how she felt having her daughter ripped away from her like that, I… I had to give her back. I couldn’t do anything for most of my son’s victims. But I could do that. I could fix that one thing. I could save one person. I could stop one mother from feeling that… that grief. I could fix one family.”

“But what about her memories?” I put in, confused. “Her and her mother’s. Wouldn’t they remember her being dead and all? Not to mention everyone else’s memories. Everybody knew she was dead. But then she’s suddenly alive again? Oh, and all the news about it, the paperwork, the–everything. All the stuff that would’ve happened to show she was dead. I mean, did the Bystander Effect just magically take care of all that? And where did she respawn? Cuz if she woke up in a coffin underground….” 

Holding up a hand to stop the barrage of questions, my mother confirmed, “For the last part, no, she did not wake up in the coffin. The spell moved her back home. And for the rest of it, the Bystander Effect is very powerful. There’s a reason why it has to constantly feed itself with the magical potential  of every ordinary human. Billions of living beings are providing power for it. So yes, it changed things. It fixed people’s memories, changed the news reports, fixed the evidence, everything it had to do to erase the fact that Denise had ever been that old, ever worked there, ever died there. It changed all of it. As far as anyone affected by the Bystander Effect is concerned, Denise was always born several years later than she actually was, and has never been that old. And, since the Pooka power transfer was temporary, Denise herself is also affected by that. She doesn’t remember anything about what happened with Ammon. She’s a normal, happy little girl growing up in an ordinary household. She doesn’t remember any trauma, and neither does her family. It–I couldn’t do much. There were so many of Ammon’s victims who I…  I couldn’t do anything for. But her–her I had to. I had one chance to help one victim. So I did. I freed my son. I killed my son. I let him die so she could live. She has a chance now. She can live her life, grow up, have everything she would have had if she never met him. It was all I could do.” 

Swallowing hard, I took a second to let all of that wash over me. It wasn’t enough, of course. It was going to take a hell of a lot longer than a second for me to fully understand and process everything my mother had given up simply to save the life of one girl she would probably never meet. But I did know one thing for certain. It was something I had known for a long time, but kept being reiterated. And now that realization, that feeling, was even stronger than it had ever been. 

“Mom,” I managed in a quiet voice, “you’re the bravest, strongest person I’ve ever known.” 

A rush of emotions passed through my mother’s face at that. In the end, all she could do was pull me to her. I felt her strong arms hold me close, pressing me against herself protectively while she gave a very slight, yet powerful shudder. “My Felicity,” she whispered. 

For a long moment, we just stood there like that. Nothing else had to be said about it. We all knew what my mother had sacrificed, what it had cost for her to do what she did. We knew how much it cost for my mother to give up any chance she might have had to get back the little boy she loved, what it had taken for someone like my mother to let her own son die. I had never known the Ammon that she knew. But I did know, in this moment, how much choosing to let him go had torn my mother apart. And I knew something else. 

I had never been more glad that that evil piece of shit Necromancer was fucking dead. 

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Long Awaited 12-06 (Heretical Edge 2)

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

I didn’t need much sleep, obviously. But I did stay in bed with my girls for as long as possible. I just laid there and enjoyed being with them while not having anything super-immediate and right in my face that had to be taken care of. Sure, there were things to do, but they could either wait on their own, or we had no choice but to wait because we had no way of affecting the situation yet. Whichever, the point was, I had no flashing life-or-death emergencies at the moment. 

Eventually, of course, I did need to get up and move around. I extricated myself from the bed and slipped downstairs, heading outside to practice with my staff in the backyard. I was mostly just running through some training drills, moving almost entirely on autopilot. It helped me clear my head a bit, even with the audience I attracted as Raphael, Eiji’s rhino cyberform in the backyard next door, moseyed over to the chain link fence and watched me curiously. Of course, I sent Jaq and Gus over there to keep him company, which led to both of the mice perching on each of the rhino’s horns so that all three could watch as I did my thing. I had the feeling that If any of the three that had the ability and materials to write, they would have held up number cards like a scoring table. Actually, come to think of it, that would be a pretty good skill to teach them. Could they learn to write? Because that would be a good way of passing information or relaying an emergency when we didn’t have any other way of–later. I’d think about it later. 

Another thing I had to think about for later was replacing the wristband that had previously allowed me to teleport myself to where my mice were or vice versa. It had been destroyed at Fossor’s, and now that I was back, I really needed a new one. 

When I was done staff-training, I took a jog around the neighborhood. Between my enhanced speed, strength, and stamina, taking a little jog wasn’t exactly going to do a lot for me. Or anything at all, really. But it passed the time and I enjoyed it. Plus, it was a way of re-acclimating myself to the neighborhood, considering how long it had been since I’d actually lived here. God, it felt like I’d been gone for a year, not just a couple months. One of which I’d literally skipped over. I didn’t even know what day it was. Seriously, Petan and his people had made such a big deal about getting me back to the right day, but it had all been in relation to when Fossor’s spell was cast, and was more of a… conceptual date for me. I had the vague idea that it was late November, but God only knew exactly which day. Was it close to Thanksgiving? Had we already passed it? Actually, yeah we had. Fossor made us have that… feast. But I still wasn’t sure what day it actually was. Did it really matter? Probably not, but I was curious. Honestly, I wanted to know when the first real holiday would be where Mom would actually be with us. Mom here with us and safe, Dad safe, my paternal grandparents… not exactly here, but on their way. Hell, maybe they’d make it before Christmas. Wouldn’t getting them back here be a great way to celebrate everything? 

Yeah, okay, my whole family situation was still complicated. Especially when you added in Dare and that whole… yeah. But still, I wasn’t going to let that get me down. This was basically the best condition my family had been in in years. My mother was here, and whatever happened next, she would be with us. Fossor hadn’t won. He’d lost. He was dead. I could let myself be happy about that, damn it. The universe wasn’t going to implode just because I let myself be a little optimistic about things. Not cocky or dismissive, just… optimistic. That was safe, right? 

Eventually, I worked my way back to the house, where I went inside and met up with Rebecca, Miranda, Doug, and Jason, who were all in the kitchen making breakfast together. When I came in, they had a whole thing about welcoming me home and all. It was pretty cute, especially when Jason held up a banner he’d made with those very words across it, which looked so hastily-done I was pretty sure he’d scribbled it out when he saw me coming back from jogging (which, given his ability to multitask, he’d probably done while preparing the food). I didn’t care. I exchanged embraces with everyone, thanking them. Most of them I’d already reunited with back at the Atherby camp before, or on the literal battlefield where Fossor had died. But I still hugged them all as if I hadn’t seen them in years. It was really good to be home, in more than one way. 

Pretty soon, they all went back to getting breakfast ready. I did my best to help, which mostly meant doing exactly what I was told and staying away from the stove just in case. It seemed to work, because nothing blew up and the pancakes, eggs, and sausage all managed to survive without being burnt to a crisp. Which was good, because Tabbris, Avalon, Columbus, Shiori, and Triss had joined us by that point, so there were a lot of hungry stomachs.

Shiori let Choo out of his ball (it wasn’t like he was cramped in there or anything, given the size of the pocket dimension within) in the backyard. The poor guy had exhausted himself during the fight back on the Meregan world and had slept through basically the entire flight home and all that. I couldn’t blame him either. That had been a huge, nasty fight, and the big guy really came through. As far as I was concerned, he’d earned all the naps and extra food he wanted. 

Shiori, of course, had no intention of giving him sausage. Yeah, it wasn’t exactly cannibalism given he wasn’t really a normal pig and all that. But, as she put it, it was close enough to be uncomfortable. Still, he got his share of pancakes and eggs, and he really seemed to enjoy them. We could hear the Jekern happily going at it in the big feeding bowl on the back porch. 

“Should we be saving some of this for Kersel?” I spoke up while everything was being passed around. The wooden Relekun guy was the only member of our house who wasn’t down here, and I kind of felt bad. I didn’t know him very well, or really at all. But still, he was part of the house, even if he did tend to keep to himself. 

“He’s kind of a vegetarian,” Jason informed me with a glance toward the others. “He’s got his own stuff in the fridge. Just make sure you don’t eat or drink anything with his name on it.  Seriously, he gets really particular about that.” The boy said that while scratching the back of his neck in a way that made it clear he’d been on the wrong side of that ‘particularness.’ 

Rebecca spoke up then. “He’s just kind of… shy. Okay, not shy. He doesn’t like to be around people very much. It’s not just Heretics either. Err, Boschers. It’s not just Boschers like us. He doesn’t like crowds or loud noises or having to talk to people in general. He just… keeps to himself. He doesn’t even say much in class.” 

Briefly, I wondered if that had anything to do with an experience the Relekun boy had had, or if it was just the way he was without any tragic backstory. Either way, pushing on that front was probably overstepping to the point of rudeness. He deserved some privacy. So, I focused on the people who were here. And on eating a little bit of breakfast. Emphasis on little bit, considering I still had to eat something with Mom and Dad. No way was I going to miss out on that, no matter how good this breakfast was. 

“Actually, hey, is it a school day?” I suddenly found myself blurting. “I don’t even know what the date is. Or anything.”

That made everyone exchange glances before Avalon answered, “It’s Tuesday, November 27th. They cancelled classes for a few days to let everyone celebrate Fossor dying.” 

“Oh,” I murmured. Yeah, of course that was a big deal for everyone else too. He’d sort of terrorized and murdered a hell of a lot more people than just my family. 

Tabbris, who had been running around the backyard with Choo after scarfing down about half a plate of food (she was holding out for family breakfast too), came trotting back in, out of breath and moved to take several gulps from her own glass of juice. Watching that, I chuckled softly. “Okay, well, thanks for the welcome breakfast, guys. And the banner.” I gestured to where Jason had hung the sad, but cute little thing across the wall with tape. “This is all awesome. And hopefully, this time I’ll stick around long enough to–” 

“Chambers,” Avalon spoke warningly, her gaze intent on me. “Do I need to get a spray bottle and start squirting you and hissing every time you try to tempt fate?” 

Coughing, I shook my head. “No, ma’am.” With that, I pushed myself up and exchanged a kiss with both her and Shiori. Promising to come find each of them later (And, in the latter’s case, that I would talk to Asenath about whatever her thing was), I said goodbye to the others and headed out with Tabbris to go upstairs. The two of us made our way through the maze of corridors to find the right door. Mostly thanks to my Seosten little sister and her perfect memory, of course. 

The door unlocked for us automatically, and we stepped inside just in time to hear laughing and the sound of pots and pans clanging in the kitchen. Exchanging brief glances, we moved that way, finding Mom and Dad working around the stove, chatting with each other. Mostly Mom was teasing him about never learning how to make real food, while he insisted there was some kind of magic anti-cooking curse specifically targeting him, which had clearly passed down to me. 

They were both just… laughing and talking and teasing each other. For a moment, Tabbris and I stood there, taking that in. She reached out to take my hand, squeezing it while giving me a quick, happy look. It was a look that I returned. 

Mom knew we were there, of course. Eventually, she waved us in and set us to different chores for getting this breakfast ready. Omelettes. She was making omelettes. Tabbris and I jumped to follow instructions, and soon the four of us were joined by Deveron, Abigail, Wyatt, and Koren. Then the kitchen was really busy. Not to mention loud. Everyone was talking back and forth, food was sizzling, we were all joking, teasing… laughing… being a family. We were being a family. It was… wow. 

Wyatt even let Corporal Kickwhiskers wander around on the floor, where he, Jaq, and Gus chased each other back and forth through the living room. Of course, Wyatt said it was good training for the little cat’s hunting instincts and ability to quickly assess and adjust to potential danger. I wasn’t sure what kind of training ‘lots of scritches from everyone in the room’ was, but Kickwhiskers definitely got that too. We ate, we talked, we laughed, it was all great. Just… really great. And nothing interrupted. There were no explosions, no sudden emergencies or problems. We got through that entire full breakfast together, and another hour or so afterward of just talking. Deveron told a story about Mom as a student when she was organizing some kind of protest about the way Ruthers was running this one training tournament, and how the old Crossroads Headmaster had practically ripped his hair out because of all the shit she had been piling onto him from getting the other students involved in that whole thing. It sounded pretty great, and I could see just how much they loved each other in the way he and Mom exchanged glances. It was the same sort of look I’d also been seeing between her and Dad. It was–yeah. That was definitely complicated. I was glad that my own joint relationships were more… had started at the same time, basically. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be involved with Avalon for literally decades, then lose and eventually completely forget her for decades, get involved with Shiori, then get my memories of Avalon back. It was all… yeah, complicated. But they seemed to be working their way through it, even if it was clearly going to take time to really figure it out. 

Seeing Mom with Abigail, Wyatt, and Koren was kind of amazing too. For awhile, I just sat back and watched the four of them interact. Koren actually seemed to be the most comfortable, even repeatedly calling her ‘Grandma’ in what I was pretty sure was meant to be a teasing way. But Mom seemed to like it. She chuckled, pulled Koren over to sit on her lap, and started teasing her right back, about what kind of student she was, what kind of boys she might like and if there was anyone special, just general stuff like that. Which made Koren bring up that Wyatt had a thing for Croc over at Eden’s Garden, leading to a whole bunch of chattering back and forth. Wyatt himself seemed kind of overwhelmed and a little reflexively defensive, but he settled down easily enough. Especially when Mom went on to talk about memories she had of Croc, something Wyatt was pretty interested in. I had no idea how that whole thing was going, but apparently he had spent some more time with the guy. Which was great. I really, really wanted good things for Wyatt. After the kind of life he’d had to lead to all his issues, he deserved as many of those as possible. Thankfully, this moment right here counted. For both of us, actually. 

Come to think of it, we all deserved this and more. Tabbris had spent years basically alone. No, worse, she was around Dad and me but had to hide from us. Deveron had lost his wife and children for almost a century. Wyatt had been raised by horrible people who gave him all sorts of legitimate paranoia issues. Dad himself lost his wife for years, thinking she had intentionally abandoned him and his daughter, me. Koren had spent years with the spectre of the Hiding Man looming over her, and the trauma of all that in her memories while no one else in her family remembered anything. 

Out of all of us, Abigail had apparently had the most normal life up until she was traumatically brought into this by that same Fomorian monster. But even she’d been taken away from her real mother, father, and twin brother, and had to grow up in a different place, with different people. I hoped she had a happy childhood and all, but either way, she was still kidnapped from her family. She still lost time, moments, memories that she should have had. Even if it did lead to her having Koren, whom she clearly wouldn’t give up for anything. Hell, that was like the fact that Mom losing everything in Heretic society had led to her having me. It was… complicated. Even Abigail finally being brought into things had come with the cost of losing her husband. And Koren losing her father. He was a man I never knew anything about, and the Fomorian piece of shit had just murdered him to take his place for fun.

So yeah, we all deserved to have as many of these moments, these breakfasts, these mornings, these days as possible. We deserved to have years and years of them all in a row, without interruption. We’d never get that, of course. Hell, lots of stuff was already lining up to call for our attention within the next few months, let alone years. So, I would just enjoy these moments when they came. I would gorge myself on the enjoyment of just being with my family. 

Eventually, Mom asked if I wanted to go for a walk with her. And, judging from the way she was looking at me, I was pretty sure there was something important she wanted to talk about in the process. Of course, I wasn’t going to object to spending more time with her, so we excused ourselves, heading out with just the two of us. 

Whatever Mom wanted to talk about, she didn’t immediately get into it. So, I just showed her around the station for a while, mostly focusing on the school and adult student living areas, considering those were really the only places that I knew. There were a lot of people who wanted to see Mom and ask her questions. That part was unsurprising, but there were others who wanted to talk to me. Yeah, apparently the fact that I had been the one to finally get the killing blow on Fossor had been spreading around, and people wanted to talk about how that felt, or just shake my hand. It was awkward, especially when a couple people asked if I’d really picked up his necromancy and wanted to know if I’d show it to them. 

Thankfully, Mom helped extricate me from the most awkward situations without hurting anyone’s feelings or being rude. She was smooth and very charismatic with them. Better than I ever could have been, that was for sure. If I’d ever had any question as to how she could have been the one to lead that first rebellion, which I really didn’t, I wouldn’t have after this. 

In any case, we talked to people, we wandered around, and I showed her the house I was now living in, along with the others in the neighborhood. I was going to ask if she wanted to go inside and see the others, but Mom suggested we walked to the park so she could talk, and show me something. What she wanted to show me, I had no idea. But it was clearly something important.

Whatever it was would take me a few more minutes to find out, apparently, because when we got to the park, a voice called out my name. It was Asenath, approaching along with Twister. Both of them were focused on me being there, but stopped short when my mother turned that way. 

“Asenath,” Mom immediately greeted, “and Twister. You’re still going by Twister, right? I’d hate to think you went and changed nicknames when you forgot about me.” 

“Forgot you came up with it,” the Pooka girl cheerfully answered, “but I definitely didn’t forget the name. It’s a hell of a lot better than Esevene, that’s for sure.” That said, she made a fist and bumped it against Mom’s. “Still looking good, Jossy.” 

“I’d say the same to you,” my mother replied, “but you’re a bit shorter than I remember you being. Gotta watch out for the people you piss off.”

“Right back atcha, babe,” Twister retorted. 

With that, Asenath coughed and reached out to take Mom’s hand, squeezing it firmly before speaking up. “It is great to see you around again, Joselyn. And to remember who you are.”   

“I enjoy all of that too,” Mom confirmed with a soft smile, pulling Asenath into an embrace. “And I’m glad to hear that you helped my daughter here more than once.” 

Glancing my way, Asenath gave a short nod. “Yeah, well, I sort of tripped over her when I was trying to help the mother of a dead girl get some justice. I–” 

Mom interrupted. “That’s what I wanted to talk to Felicity about, actually. It’s good you’re here.” She glanced toward Twister before adding, “good all of you are here.” She hesitated then, taking a breath before letting it out. “As… you all know, my son… my youngest son, Ammon, was… killed.” Her voice was quiet, and she spoke up quickly when the three of us looked at each other. “Fossor destroyed him long before he… long before he was finally killed. And by that point, the death was more of a mercy. Not only for him, but for everyone else he would have hurt and killed because of what Fossor turned him into.” Even as she said the words, Mom’s voice cracked. I knew it was hurting her to say all this, hurting her to even think that one of her children dying was a good thing. 

She kept going before any of us could find the right words to say anything. “But, you should also all know that he used his power on a man named Scott, and made him kill himself. Scott, he’s a–” 

“A Pooka,” I suddenly put in, a mixture of dread and confusion suddenly rising up in me as I glanced toward Twister. “Wait, Mom. Wait. Are you saying… are you telling us that–” 

Mom, instead of answering, took a phone from her pocket. “I asked a friend to go over and record this for me yesterday before we went on the ship. Watch.” Her voice was quiet as she held the phone up, playing a video on it. 

Twister, Asenath, and I exchanged pretty loaded glances once more before focusing on the screen. There, we saw a house. It was a pretty simple, suburban place. My fists were tight as I waited to see my Pooka-resurrected half-brother show up. How could this be happening? Would he be evil again? He had to be, right? They got all their memories back eventually, so everything that he’d been, everything that he was and what he’d done, it would all–

The front door of the house opened, and a girl emerged. She looked to be about eleven years old or so, with dark hair and a quick smile as she shouted over her shoulder that she was going to someone named Carly’s house. Whoever was taking the video must’ve been invisible or something, because the girl didn’t even look at them despite jogging down the sidewalk right in front of the camera. Watching her, I felt a sense of familiarity somehow. It was like I knew the girl from somewhere. Seriously, I knew her. It was right there on the tip of my tongue.

When she got right up close, her face framed in the video, Asenath suddenly snapped her hand out with vampire speed, pausing it. She was even more pale than usual. “That’s… that’s… how? I know that face. She’s younger now, but I know her. It’s the girl from the gas station. The girl Ammon murdered. Joselyn, how the fuck is Denise Cartland alive? And why is she a kid?” 

“Simple,” came Mom’s quiet response. 

“I used my son’s Pooka respawn power to bring her back, instead of him.” 

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Interlude 11A – Asenath and Twister (Heretical Edge 2)

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

A/N – For those who read Summus Proelium, there was a commissioned interlude posted over the weekend. If you haven’t seen that yet, you can do so by clicking right here

At two o’clock in the morning, the streets of the quiet, suburban town of Acantilado, Texas were almost entirely empty. An occasional car would pass, sometimes filled with boisterous teenagers whooping and hollering through the surrounding night air. Now and then, a stray dog or cat out for a prowl would make themselves known. But, for the most part, the town was silent. There were certainly no buses running at that moment, and there wouldn’t be for another four hours. 

Despite that, one figure was sitting at a bus stop on top of a hill near the edge of town. Behind her was the local high school, while most of Acantilado was stretched out below. It was a relatively new school, built within the past five years at what, at that point, had been just out of town. In the intervening half-decade, enough new houses had been built to put the high school right up against the edge of it, essentially marking the town border. 

Asenath had not known any of that before, of course. She’d learned it while researching the town before coming here. That and a lot of other fairly useless trivia facts about its founding, past governments, and the record of their football team. Part of that had been simply to pass the time, while another part had been about researching the place she had to go to get the answers she had been looking for for so long. Answers that probably weren’t even here to begin with, yet she couldn’t bear not to actually search through every conceivable lead, no matter how slim. 

Now, sitting at the bus stop in the dark as she watched the town spread out below, Asenath glanced up to see an owl fly overhead before quietly murmuring, “How does it look to you?” 

The owl looped around and glided down before transforming into the dark-skinned figure of Twister, shaking herself off while the fox-like set of secondary ears on top of her head twitched. “One of these days, Ol’ Assy, I’m gonna trick you and be the animal you don’t expect. I swear, it’s gonna happen. And when it does, bam!” Her fist punched into her palm. “I’ll uhhh… I’ll never let you live it down, that’s for sure.” 

Snorting despite herself, Asenath offered a wry, “It’s good to have goals to strive toward. So, like I said, what do you think of this place?” Her hand rose to gesture at the streets and house in the distance. 

“What do I think of it?” Echoing her words, Twister turned to plop down on the bench beside her with a heavy sigh. “I think I’d never willingly come here if I had a choice. I mean, sure, it’s fine and quiet and all. But it’s boring. It’s boring as hell. There is nothing to do in this town. There’s nothing going on here. This has got to be one of the single most boring towns in the entire known universe. I would spend ten years in Flick’s old place in Wyoming without my shapeshifting powers before I’d spend a single year in this place, swear to God.” 

Asenath glanced to her in silence for a few seconds as though considering that answer. Then she nodded. “Yeah, that’s kind of the impression I’ve been getting. And you know what? I don’t think that’s an accident. Actually, I’m pretty sure it’s completely intentional. Manufactured, even.”

Her words made the other girl look at her with a frown. “Manufactured? What’s that supposed to mean? Are you saying someone made this town this boring and empty? How? And why?” 

Straightening up to her feet, Asenath answered, “I think there’s some kind of spell on this town. It’s making anyone who isn’t human even more bored than they should be. Pushing them to not want to stay here. It’s not powerful enough to outright control us or anything, especially if we have a real reason to be here. But it’s still kind of a constant, low level push to find this place really boring, so we’ll want to be done with it and leave as soon as possible.”

“Wow,” Twister retorted with a brief grin while pushing herself back to her feet, “It’s a spell making me this easily bored? All these years I thought I was just immature and obsessed with shiny, loud things.” 

Rolling her eyes, Senny pivoted back to her. “You’re definitely still all of that, believe me. But in this case, there’s that spell.” 

“You can sense magic now?” Twister arched an eyebrow. “I mean, you still can’t cast it, right? So…” 

Senny’s head shook. “No, still can’t cast it and can’t really sense it. But Shiori let me borrow this before she left on that rescue mission.” She held up a knife with a bone-handle and a blade that looked like it was made of blue glass. That blade was glowing a bit. “It’s Seth’s anti-magic knife. It’s been warm and glowing the whole time we’ve been here. And when I hold it, I don’t find this place nearly as boring as I do when I let it go.” To demonstrate, she held the knife out. “Try it.” 

Twister, in turn, shrugged before taking hold of the knife by the handle. After holding it for a few seconds, she breathed out and nodded. “Oh yeah, that’s definitely some kind of spell. Wow.” 

Taking the knife back, Senny agreed, “Yeah, wow. Now the question is who cast the spell.” 

The Pooka girl squinted. “You think it has to do with your dad, don’t you?” 

At first, Asenath was quiet. She glanced over to the streets stretched out below them before murmuring, “You know how this whole thing went. That Vestil from Vegas, Bol Sampson, promised information about my dad in exchange for helping save the girl. The information was the name of a man who supposedly saw him last, Arturo Moreno.” 

“Yeah, and Arturo Moreno lives in this place,” Twister finished. “But here’s the thing. That info originated from Fossor. So what the hell makes you think this actually means anything? I mean, besides blind hope?” Pausing, she flinched before adding, “Sorry. That didn’t–I wasn’t trying to…” 

“I get it,” the vampire murmured, before heaving a sigh. “Believe me, I get it. I was suspicious too. But Bol said they used magic to test the name against the name of my father, and got a definite link between them. Which Fossor probably knew they’d do. Or someone would. The point is, whoever this Arturo Moreno is, he did have a direct connection to my father. And now he’s here, in a town blanketed with a ‘don’t stay here for very long, go away, nothing to see here’ spell. It’d be a pretty damn huge coincidence if there was no relation between those things.”

Considering that briefly, Twister agreed, “Fair. Still, let’s keep our guards up, huh? I don’t trust this not to be some kind of trap, even if there’s some level of truth to it. Because I definitely don’t trust that dead Necromancer any more than I could throw the planet he slithered off of.”

“Guards up, for sure,” Asenath murmured while turning the knife over in her hand thoughtfully. “That’s why I didn’t want to bring Bobbi. She’s amazing but–but I’d rather you and I check this place out first. She’s still a kid, and she’s just getting back into the whole going to school thing.” 

“Don’t have to convince me, babe. The two of us running this thing together, old-school, is where it’s at.” Grinning almost ferally, Twister added, “But, just to check, did you get the ahh… you know what?” The question was accompanied by a raised eyebrow. 

Senny, in turn, gave a short nod. Her voice was quiet. “Yeah, it’s done. I haven’t really, uhh, you know. But yeah.” 

“In that case,” Twister replied, “you know we’ve gotta do one more thing, right? No way we’re moving on yet. Not til I get to see the shiny.” 

So, the two of them took a few minutes to do what they needed to. Finally, the Pooka clapped her hands once. “Right, we’re good, so let’s hit it. And speaking of hitting it, you think that knife can break whatever this spell is? Because I’m suddenly starting to think about how much I need to check on a couple old friends in Atlanta that I haven’t talked to in like… over eight years. And something tells me it’s not because they just happened to pop into my head naturally.” 

Asenath, however, shook her head. “Pretty sure it’s not the kind of spell this thing can break just by slicing randomly through the air. If we could find the source of the magic, then maybe it could do something.” Considering the blade thoughtfully, she added, “On the other hand, maybe this thing can lead us to that source. I think the whole effect gets stronger the closer we are.”  

“Well, in that case,” Twister cracked her knuckles. In the next moment, she had transformed into a small, mangy-looking cat, which looked up at Asenath pointedly. “Let’s go play hot-and-cold.” 

So, that was exactly what they did. Walking together, the vampire and cat strolled away from the bus stop, heading deeper into town. Asenath tucked the knife inside her jacket out of sight to avoid any unwanted attention. Even though the streets were empty, she didn’t trust that there weren’t any busybodies peeking out their windows in the middle of the night. To say nothing of active surveillance. After all, someone had to have set up and been maintaining that spell. 

Nonetheless, everything seemed just as quiet and peaceful as ever while the two of them silently made their way through the dark neighborhoods. As expected, the knife grew warmer the closer they got to the source of the spell. It was warm and bright enough that they were both sure they’d found the right spot. Turning to look up at the building they had stopped in front of, Twister scoffed in her cat form. “Oh, that’s just super-fucking appropriate to go looking for clues about your missing vampire dad, isn’t it? Perfect.” 

Senny couldn’t exactly disagree. After all, the spot they had stopped at, the place the spell seemed to be originating from, was a large, rather imposing church. It had incredibly gothic architecture, complete with looming gargoyles and twisted spires. It definitely looked out of place in this sleepy, quiet town. Even without the help of the knife, she would have guessed that there was something special about this particular building. Especially with the scent.

“You smell that, right?” Twister added, leaning forward to sniff once more with her cat nose. 

“Yeah,” Senny confirmed in a quiet mutter. “Alters went by here recently. Lots of them. At least one troll, a few weres, smells like a Rakshasa or two, maybe a… yeah, that’s an Aswang.” Grimacing, she added, “And more. I’d say we’re in the right place. And possibly a bit outnumbered. We should–”

Unfortunately, she was interrupted before she could suggest they do more recon and possibly summon help. Because in the next instant, the sound of grinding stone made both of them snap their gazes up in time to see three of the Gargoyles leap off the edge of that twisted church roof. These weren’t the ordinary Bystander decorative gargoyles. They were the real deal. Which meant they were actually diminutive, foot-tall gremlin like creatures who created and manipulated a material that looked like stone, but was much stronger. They used that to create larger, horrific-looking monster suits for themselves as a sort of armor. Bystanders had seen such things lurking at the edges of buildings back during the Middle Ages and interpreted them as decorations before creating their own. Which made it so much more difficult to tell when the things on the roof were actually the real deal, particularly given the fact that their armor shielded them from giving off any scent. Which was just helpful enough for them that Asenath was pretty sure the Gargoyles themselves had had a hand in the propagation of such statue designs. 

Either way, now three of them were dropping rapidly toward the ground. Senny and Twister each dove in different directions, just before the trio of stone-like armored suits slammed into the concrete right where they had been a moment earlier, sending shards of cement flying.

Both were back on their feet in an instant, Twister shifting out of her cat form to become a much larger grizzly bear, while Asenath yanked the knife back out of her jacket. But before she could do anything with it, a blurred form slammed into her from the side. They were moving so fast that even Senny couldn’t react before the knife was knocked out of her hand and she was sent tumbling end over end. Just as she hit the ground, a cage made of glowing energy bars appeared around her. 

At the same time, the figure who had hit the girl turned and pointed toward Twister, forming a second energy cage. This one, however, was a solid bubble, including the ground under her feet. “Good luck finding an animal that can get you out of a solid forcefield, Pooka,” the figure’s male voice muttered. 

“And as for you, vampire…” With that, the man turned to face Asenath in the energy-cage while the three gargoyles loomed up behind and around him. He was a handsome Latino man who appeared to be in his late thirties, with piercingly dark eyes, an inch or so under six feet. His black hair was long but clearly meticulously maintained. “Feel free to try to bite your way through that. It might be funny.” 

Glancing sidelong to where the knife lay in the grass a few yards from the cage, Senny then turned her attention back to the man. “Stardrinker,” she murmured. That was it. The man was a member of the same species that had given Bobbi her powers. Hence how fast he was, and his ability to create these energy structures. 

Twister, who had shifted back to her human form, tapped her foot impatiently before calling, “Think we should’ve brought the kid now, babe?” 

Rather than reply to that, Senny simply focused on the man himself. “Arturo Moreno?” 

Her words managed to bring a very slight expression of surprise to the man’s face. “Wow, you’re two for two. You know what I am, and who I am. Now I suppose it’s my turn to ask you something about who you are. But, to tell you the truth, I really only need answers from one of you, and you’re easier to keep contained.” With a shrug, the man added, “Can’t kill a Pooka, not for good anyway. But I’d say getting rid of her for awhile is good enough.” Winking at Asenath, he turned toward her equally-trapped companion and gestured with one hand. As he did so, the bubble around Twister began to rapidly shrink. He clearly intended to crush her inside it. 

Seeing that, Senny instantly launched herself toward the bars while summoning her own speed. It was slower than a Stardrinker, of course. Not to mention the cage itself was still in her way. And yet, just before she would have slammed into them, Asenath’s form changed. In mid-lunge, her entire body shrank and shifted into an actual bat. Flipping sideways in the air, she sailed right between the bars, even as the two gargoyles who were still looking that way cried out in alarm.

The shouts drew Arturo’s attention, making the man spin back that way. Unfortunately for him, bats were incredibly fast to begin with. A single Brazilian free-tailed bat, which was exactly what Asenath now appeared to be, was capable of reaching speeds of one hundred miles per hour. Multiplying that by her brief speed boost, and she was already all the way to where the knife had fallen by the time the Stardrinker even started to turn. An instant later, she was back in her human form, had scooped the knife up, and hurled it unerringly. When Arturo finished turning to face her, hands raised, the weapon was already right there. He had time to make a very short, shocked sound before the hilt of the knife slammed into his forehead with enough force to instantly knock the man unconscious. He dropped to the ground in a heap. 

The moment he was down,  the forcefield around Twister vanished. With a grin, she cracked her neck and stared down the trio of suddenly very-confused Gargoyles. “You wanna try that whole thing again? Cuz I can’t wait to get through your tin cans to the chewy center.” 

Between the two of them, Asenath and Twister made short work of the three gargoyles. Soon, the two of them stood over the fallen form of Arturo. Glancing to one another, they each produced a set of handcuffs, carefully attaching them to the man’s wrists and ankles. Then they hauled him over onto his back and waited for the man to wake up. Rather, Asenath started to wait, but Twister got bored after roughly eight seconds and kicked the man hard in the side. She was about to do it again when his eyes opened. Taking in his situation, he immediately tried to do… something. Whatever it was, the man instead jerked and cried out in pain. 

“According to a very good friend of ours,” Senny informed the stunned man, “those magic cuffs are gonna send that pain through you every time you try to do anything you’re not supposed to. Violence, mostly. Trying to use your power, try to break the cuffs, anything like that. So be a good boy and lay there so you can answer questions.” 

“H-how–how?” Arturo was staring at her. “You were a bat. You turned into a bat. Vampires don’t do that!” 

Senny offered him a faint smile. “Not normally, no. But see, I have a certain friend. Her father was a vampire, and someone went through an awful lot of trouble to… upgrade him so he could use the powers other people had by drinking their blood. Now, after months and months of very smart and talented people studying that dead piece of shit’s remains, so do I.” She shrugged a bit. “They’re temporary. The powers only last until the borrowed blood works its way through my system. But still pretty useful. Especially when I’ve got a shapeshifter around who doesn’t mind me taking a sip now and then.” 

“Just think,” Twister put in, “if you’d gone for two bubbles instead of being an arrogant prick with that cage thing instead, the shoe would still be on the other foot right now. Speaking of which–” She reached down, grabbing the man’s expensive Italian loafers. “You tried to kill me, I’m taking these.” 

“Okay, look,” Arturo snarled, “whoever you’re here to break out, it’s not gonna work. There’s a hell of a lot more guards in there than just me and a few goyles.” 

“Break out of–” Senny blinked. “Are you saying this place is some kind of prison?” 

The man stared at her. “You don’t even know what y–yes it’s a prison! The hell are you doing here if you don’t even know that? It’s called Desmoterion.” 

“I’ve heard of that place,” Twister put in. “It’s like a… a mercenary prison. They don’t worry about courts or judges or anything. They just kidnap and hold people for as long as they’re paid to.” 

Snarling a little, Asenath grabbed the man by the throat, bringing the special knife up close. “Have you been holding a vampire–an Akharu, named Tiras?” Even as she said it, the girl couldn’t stop her voice from shaking a little bit. If this was true, if after all this time, her father was right in that building

Arturo echoed the name.“Tiras? Yeah. Yeah, we had someone by that name for awhile. We’re not the ones who caught him, just held him for someone else who brought him in for about a… I’d say seven, eight years? That was about thirty years ago. Then the Heretic asshole who brought the guy in took him back. Paid pretty well too. Nice tip.” 

“Heretic asshole?” Senny frowned sharply. “What Heretic asshole?” Her mind was racing. Her father had been here for eight years thirty years earlier, then some Heretic had paid to take him? 

The man was nodding. “Yeah, one of those Eden’s Garden leaders. What do they call ‘em? Victors. One of the Eden’s Garden Victors. His name was ahh… Kyril Shamon.

“You wanna find this Tiras guy, you gotta talk to Kyril Shamon.”

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Kairos 9-06 (Heretical Edge 2)

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

I had thought that the fight in this quarry was insane and chaotic before. But all of that had been nothing compared to this. Hundreds of thousands of undead creatures, all rushing in every possible direction, even up into the air, to escape. Any of them could have been Fossor in disguise, so all of them had to be stopped. They all had to be either destroyed or exposed as the Necromancer himself. We couldn’t let even a single one get out of this quarry. 

“Mom!” I blurted, even as a skeletal deer-like thing tried to sprint past me. My staff snapped that way, shoving through the bones of the thing’s neck just before I triggered a kinetic blast that blew the head into splinters and sent the rest of the bones tumbling to the ground before they broke apart into dust. “What do we do?! How’re we supposed to find the right one?!” 

My mother, for her part, had just finished catching five zombies and a ghost inside some kind of gelatinous cube thing that instantly incinerated itself and them once they were all caught inside it. “Rahanvael,” she said quickly while pointing her hand to send a single, tight-beam laser that caught three more fleeing zombies who had been making a break for it through a small opening. 

I didn’t have to voice the question. Rahanvael was already there, appearing in front of me while shaking her head quickly. “I–I don’t know! His power is everywhere, he’s obfuscating himself somehow! He knows I can find him by tracking his power, so he–he’s spread it everywhere! I can’t focus–I need… I need…” It was obvious that she was going to say she needed time. Time we didn’t have, because of all this chaos. Even in that moment, I was shifting my staff into its bow form and firing a single energy arrow that made a huge Meregan zombie stumble so that Roxa in werewolf form could leap onto its back. She was followed by several more of her wolf pack, who all took the Meregan to the ground together, tearing the already-dead body apart.  

“Time, I know!” I quickly put in, spinning back to hock a wad of that amber-like spit toward a skeleton that was trying to rush past Shiori while her back was turned as she caught one of her spinning discs. It caught the thing’s feet and the ground, pinning it there so she could finish it off. 

“You need time?” That was Avalon. She pivoted to face me from a few yards away while the gauntlet of her extended arm projected a blade that cut the head from another zombie. “We’ll cover you.” Despite everything going on around her, despite her own heavy panting as she continued killing these things, Avalon’s voice was still calm and collected. “Do what you need.” 

“Damn straight!” That was Columbus, appearing to one side. He had Amethyst, his porcupine cyberform, in her shield form with the quills pointed out. Two of those quills flew off, and when they hit this huge, winged-zombie creature in mid-flight, the ice spells on them activated, freezing the thing solid just long enough to bring it crashing back to the ground with a heavy thud as dust flew everywhere. “Focus on finding the chief asshole, we’ve got these ones!” 

Shiori, Koren, Miranda, Sands, and Sarah were right there too. All of them spread out around me, focused on keeping the fleeing undead away from me. Away from us. 

Quickly, I looked to Rahanvael. “One chance,” I said quickly. “We have to hurry, or–”

“I know.” Rahanvael said simply. There was no need for me to continue. We both knew. If we didn’t identify exactly where Fossor was before he managed to escape, this whole thing would’ve been for nothing and he would just try all this again. She looked at me intently. “I need to… to possess you, basically. I need your power, your connection to the undead to weed all the extra out.” 

I didn’t even hesitate. With all the insanity around us, as practically everyone I knew who could fight did so against hundreds of thousands of Fossor’s forces, I extended a hand to her. “Do it.”

It wasn’t the same as Seosten possession, of course. If nothing else, I already had one of those with my sister. This was ghost possession, and as Rahanvael’s hand touched mine, I could tell the difference. This was… cold, for lack of a better term. I felt a chill that seemed to run through my actual soul, as this ghost merged fully with me. I could feel her thoughts, her terror that the creature her brother had turned into would actually escape again. I could feel her determination that he not do so, that he be stopped for good here and now. I could feel everything, just as she could undoubtedly feel all of my own thoughts and feelings. 

I have to put everything into finding him, Rahanvael’s voice informed both Tabbris and me. Everything. 

She wasn’t exaggerating. The whole world went dark then. I couldn’t see or hear anything around us. I couldn’t even sense anything with my powers. It was one huge black void. All my senses were turned off, aside from… wait. Energy. I could… feel energy. Life energy–no, not life. Death. I could feel death energy around us. Literally everywhere around us. It was a hurricane of Necromantic energy. No wonder it was so impossible for Rahanvael to differentiate anything. Fossor really was hiding himself in a giant storm of power. The only chance we had was that he was cautious. He wouldn’t make the first run for an escape. He’d wait to see where an opening appeared. But he also wouldn’t wait too long, because he only had so many forces to keep our people busy with. Wherever that piece of shit was, he would make his move soon. 

We had to find him before that. It was the only choice, the only chance we had. Find him. Stop him. 

This was terrifying. I knew there was violence going on around me. I could feel the undead through their energy. But I couldn’t feel my friends. I had no idea how they were doing. I just… I just had to trust that they were safe, that they were still right there protecting Tabbris and me. I had no idea how the fight was going, if they were hurt or… or worse. My only choice was to stand here, blind and deaf, and trust that my friends could take care of themselves. 

Fuck, this was hard. 

I could feel Rahanvael taking control of my Necromancy power, could sense how she was using it to direct the death energy around us. I wasn’t yet powerful enough, even with her help, to take control of more than a few of these things at a time. But she wasn’t trying to take control of them. She was infecting them with my power, letting that power spread quickly through the army, sort of like a virus. I couldn’t actually make them do anything with that tiny amount of power, but I could see where it went, the way it mixed with Fossor’s own power. Through what felt like hours, my power spread through the undead within the quarry, just a dot of it here or there. Not enough to actually do anything with them, but enough to mark all of them. 

All of them, that was, except for one. One spot where my power couldn’t infect Fossor’s. One spot. One being who was immune to being touched by my own Necromancy. 

Him. It was him. 

We found him. 

My eyes opened as Rahanvael separated herself from me, and I saw the carnage around us. It was clear that Fossor had left his horde instructions not only to escape, but also to kill me if they could manage it. All around us were dozens upon dozens of dead (or redead) things, or just the dust and ectoplasm from skeletons and ghosts. My friends, my teammates, had been joined by others. My mother, Deveron, the rest of her own team, Asenath, Bobbi, Vanessa and Tristan, and more. It had clearly taken all of them to keep these things off me through the time that I had been indisposed. 

There wasn’t time to thank them. There wasn’t time for anything. Not when I knew where Fossor was. I could still feel him, could still sense the way his own power was so different from mine. Now that it had been so thoroughly pointed out to me, it was a difference I could never forget. The man himself was like a bright shining beacon, so different from the rest of the creatures around him now that they had all been marked by my power. 

And he was making his move. Even as I focused on my ability to sense him, I could feel the Necromancer bolting for an open spot. The fighting had spread out too far. Our forces were thin on the edges. He had the opening he wanted, the opening he needed to escape. 

Like fuck would I let that happen. 

“Got him!” I blurted, spinning toward the direction I could still feel the bastard in. Unfortunately, that just put me face to face with a veritable wall of both enemies and friends. The battle raged on ahead of me, not only on the ground but in the air too. There was no way I could get through all that in time to reach Fossor before he managed to escape. He was already making his move!

At least, there was no way I could do that alone. But I wasn’t alone. The moment they realized where I was trying to go, Shiori, Avalon, Columbus, Asenath, and all the others launched themselves that way. The wall of enemies in the way collapsed inward as my people, my friends, barrelled headlong into it. A hole, they were making a hole for me to get through. 

I took advantage without thought. I would thank them later, I would say… everything that needed to be said later. Right now, only one thing mattered, getting to Fossor and stopping him once and for all. 

It wasn’t as easy as just going through a single opening and then having a free run to where the evil piece of shit was, of course. The entire quarry was filled with these creatures, all of them in my way. Or at least, they tried to be in my way. But Avalon and the others stayed just ahead of me, tearing their way through the enemies. Here, Sands made a wall to block off one section to create an opening. There, Gordon encased himself in enormous ice armor and used one long arm to swat a group of zombies away. There, Sean and Vulcan worked with Sarah and her own gun to put down a group of fliers that were trying to swoop in from above. 

Koren and Miranda worked together to deal with a massive skeleton giant to the left. To the right, Vanessa and Tristan were stopping a cloud of angry ghosts from reaching us. Bobbi and Asenath raced ahead, each grabbing a rotting zombie barbarian creature, tearing the pair apart from each other and out of the way. 

Deveron and Lillian were there, the latter using a summoned wind storm to hurl a dozen undead into the air before the former incinerated them with a blast of white-blue fire from his pistol. The Dornans and Tribald Kine were stopping a literal giant (the thing towered at least twenty feet tall, twice the size of a Meregan) from stomping down on the spot just ahead of me. 

Everyone, everyone was helping. They were clearing the path. I was taking advantage, racing through the holes they created. I didn’t have time to slow down, didn’t have time to help. Getting to Fossor was all that mattered. They had this. I had him. 

Or rather, we had him. Because my mother was right beside me. The two of us sprinted onward, Mom right at my side. The others could barely keep up with clearing the path, not even worrying about killing everything in the way. They were purely focused on simply moving the enemies. Even then, it was only the fact that we had so many on our side, so many friends and allies right there with us, that allowed Mom and I to keep running without slowing down to engage with the minions ourselves. Neither of us spoke. Neither of us needed to. We were together right here, at this last moment. That was all that mattered, the two of us being together, side-by-side, as we made one final run to either stop Fossor from escaping, or die trying. 

A blast from Columbus’s goggles slammed into a huge, twelve-foot tall troll zombie that had been looming up in front of us, the concussive force putting the thing on its back long enough for my mother and I to leap over it. I had to boost to make the full jump, while my mother used some kind of gravity manipulation power to keep herself in the air long enough to make it from the troll’s feet all the way past its head. It was starting to recover, starting to grab for us, but we were already gone. Behind us, I heard a howl as Dare, in giant wolf form, landed on top of the thing to make sure it would never be a threat again.

I could feel him. I could still feel Fossor. He was… he was there. He was just ahead of us. But, close as he was to us, he was also close to the edge of the quarry, and thus close to escaping the spell that was keeping him trapped here. The moment he made it over that line, the very second that monster managed to edge a foot out of the magic that stopped him from teleporting, he would be gone. He would escape. He would leave and go back to being a threat for everyone in the world, a threat that would hurt and kill everyone I cared about. 

Fuck. That. 

Tabbris! I shouted inwardly, even as Mom intercepted some kind of spinning ghost armed with glowing blades that came in out of nowhere. That wing blast thing, can you do it again? I had no idea what all that was about, and there wasn’t time for details. All that mattered was whether she had another one in her or not. I’d had the impression that she couldn’t do that constantly, that it needed time to recharge. But had it been enough time yet? 

There was a brief hesitation, even as I pivoted to stab the blade of my staff through a zombie that came lunging at us from that side. He was with a horde of others, but our friends had managed to intercept the rest. I could feel Tabbris’s doubt, but it was quickly replaced by firm determination. Yes, she insisted. I can do it again. 

Good, ready? I let her take in exactly what I wanted to do, what I was planning. 

Ready! I could feel that she was afraid, afraid of her own power, afraid of this whole situation, of messing up and letting Fossor escape. She was terrified. But she was here. She was here with me, and determined to make this work. Whatever it took. 

“Mom!” I blurted out loud. “On three, hit me with the strongest energy blast you can and get us into the air. One… two… three!”

As I said that, my hands gripped my staff, triggering the boost to start my launch upward. At the same time, I felt my mother’s hands grab my shoulders as she used her gravity power to send us flying even higher than my staff could manage. On the way, her hands glowed and I felt her pouring energy into me. Energy that I focused on absorbing. 

We were in the air. More enemies came in from all sides, but between Mom and our friends below, they were dealt with. 

Most importantly, I could see him. I could see the single ‘zombie’ making a flat run for the line. Fossor had abandoned blending in by that point. No one was around him, they were all engaged with other threats and too far away. No one could stop him. 

Or so he thought. The second I saw that clear path to the monster, I blurted both inwardly and aloud, “Do it now!” 

It was like before, when we had used a powered up blast to destroy the creatures blocking me from reaching Fossor the first time. But now, we weren’t shooting an army. Nor were we shooting Fossor himself. Tabbris and I both knew the man would just shove the effect off onto any of his creatures who were still here. Then he’d keep going and escape. 

No, we didn’t shoot Fossor. We shot the ground. Those bright light wings appeared from my back and a blinding blast of power, a ten-foot-wide eruption of energy hurtled itself down out of the sky, tearing into the Earth with a deafening blast that sent dirt, dust, and rocks in every direction. 

Through that blinding, choking cloud, Mom and I fell. We landed together, and my mother used a quick gust of wind to send the dust away. 

We were in a hole. A twenty-foot-wide, twelve-foot-deep hole. About as wide as a boxing ring without the ropes. A boxing ring with a single opponent who stood facing us, hatred and disbelief twisting his features. 

“Leaving so soon?” I demanded, taking a quick step away from my mother so we wouldn’t be caught in the same attack. “And without us? I thought we were supposed to be a family and all that.” 

“Yes, brother,” Rahanvael agreed, appearing beside me. “We are family.” 

“We are family,” Mom corrected pointedly, straightening up as she focused on Fossor. “Not him.” Her hand snapped out, throwing some kind of enchanted marble into the air. As it hit the top of the hole we were all in, a glowing energy shield appeared, creating a forcefield ceiling to keep all of us, Fossor included, right here in the hole. 

This was it. No other tricks. No escapes. No new allies or friends. They were all busy, all occupied. My mother and I (with Rahanvael and Tabbris), facing the man who had done so much to tear our family apart. Just us. Just him. For the last time. 

One way or another, this was the end.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Kairos 9-05 (Heretical Edge 2)

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

A/N – The next set of the non-canon chapters were released over the weekend! They are (and will remain only) on Patreon, but everyone can read them even if you are not a Patron. You can find the Heretical Edge non-canon chapter right here. And for those who read Summus Proelium, you can find the non-canon chapter for that right here

I’d thought that I had seen Fossor angry before. When we ruined his first attempt at this spell, when we made him abandon his home because I brought a horde of his enemies down on him, when his former ghost slaves had brought that same army right here before he was ready, or even just a moment earlier when my mother had destroyed his second attempt at the spell. I’d thought, as the man had brought his foot slamming repeatedly down on my hand in his best attempt to crush the bones within to dust, that I had seen the limits of his temper. 

But I hadn’t. Not then. Because the anger I’d seen in those moments held nothing, not the slightest flickering candle flame, to the white-hot, blinding atomic rage I saw in his eyes when he realized what I had just done. And why wouldn’t he be angry? He had spent literal millennia building up his invulnerability. He had been untouchable, in every sense of the word. The most powerful beings in the universe couldn’t kill him, because he was able to pass every bit of real damage they did off to billions of hostages over on his own world. Hell, a lot of those enemies had gathered together after he’d nearly wiped out humanity the first time, just to use a spell that was supposed to banish him from Earth. But it hadn’t. It had simply forced him to step on the ashes of his own people to avoid losing his connection to that world, a ‘sacrifice’ that he was more than willing to make. 

He spent all that time, all that effort, beat everyone who had aligned themselves against him. Yet, in two seconds, I took all of it away. I destroyed his invulnerability, not through a clever spell taught by a wise old mentor, not through eons of training or some incredibly rare, mythical artifact that I quested for weeks to obtain. 

It was a rock. I took his power away with the same rock I had carried around in my pocket for over a year. The rock that had been with me in that field, the one I had tossed through my first portal back when all of this had been completely new to me. The rock that had become our team mascot. The biggest goddamn hero in this or any other world. The Fossor-Slayer. Herbie. 

And boy was Fossor pissed about that. Even as the full realization of what I had managed to do settled into him, the homicidal rage took over. His foot lashed out toward my face before I could so much as blink, before I could do anything at all. This wasn’t the same as the blows  he’d been hitting me with before, back when he’d been dragging things out and intentionally making me suffer. No. This was a man who could likely kick through solid steel, intending to pop my head like a melon and put an end to me once and for all, even as a deafening bellow of unimaginable wrath erupted from him. I was no longer something to play with. I was an ant to crush. And, in that particular moment, I posed about as much of a chance as one. 

But this was one ant who wasn’t alone. Just as Fossor’s foot was literally less than an inch from my face, as I could feel the rush of air and motion with the certainty that I was about to pay for what I’d done with my life, the shield surrounding us disintegrated under the combined blows of Gabriel Prosser, Hisao, Dare, Kohaku, Deveron, Avalon, Shiori, and Asenath. It shattered like glass, and a hand caught Fossor’s leg by the ankle a millimeter or so from making contact with my face. 

“That’s… my… daughter.” Mom snarled the words, her grip iron tight on the man’s leg just before her fist collided with his face with so much force that he was sent careening away, flying a good forty feet before he came down on his back. 

He picked himself up a moment later, even as all eyes turned that way, the fighting briefly coming to a halt. Fossor’s nose was bloodied and broken. He had been hurt. Visibly hurt. 

We tried to follow up immediately, of course. No way were we just going to stand there. Even if my own hand was practically crushed and still gradually healing. But even as we made a move that way, to finally finish this fucker, he shouted a command word. More than a dozen of the huge Meregan zombies vanished from other parts of the battlefield where they had been, appearing directly in front of the Necromancer himself before they immediately exploded. The energy from their deaths was instantly converted into two things. First, a shockwave that knocked almost everyone down. I was thrown to the dirt next to my mother, even as the second part of his spell manifested. It was a glowing forcefield dome to keep Fossor safe. At least for a moment. He’d casually sacrificed those Meregan forces to create a new shield. 

It wouldn’t keep everyone out for long, but Fossor didn’t need it to last long. He was glaring at me from behind that forcefield, the loathing in his gaze enough to send a chill through me despite everything. A snap of his hand made the blood on his face vanish, the damage undone as if it had never happened. At the same time, one of the ghosts nearby made a sound of distress before falling apart. He’d sacrificed the ghost to heal himself. 

Yes, he fixed the damage immediately. But he’d had to sacrifice one of the ghosts he had here to do so. Just like he’d sacrificed those Meregan. They wouldn’t be coming back. There was no more connection to his world. What he had right here on Earth was everything. He couldn’t pull in more reinforcements from his world, couldn’t pass every bit of damage to those billions of hostages anymore. If we could destroy everything he had on this planet, we could destroy him. 

If we could kill everything he had here, we could kill him. 

Fossor had clearly come to the exact same conclusion, and he was nothing if not pragmatic. Angry as he was, he wasn’t going to pursue a vendetta against me right now if it meant sticking around to face his enemies in anything within the same zip code as a fair fight. Instead, he instantly sacrificed another half a dozen of his prepared troops while producing a small octangular medallion of some kind, snapping a word that sounded more like a threat than a spell. There was a flash of energy and then… nothing. He was still there, still standing behind that protective forcefield, surrounded by his assortment of minions and enemies. And he looked just as confused as he was angry. 

“Sorry,” Deveron informed him, sounding anything but as he stepped up on the other side of my mother. “All transportation magic out of this place is officially shut down for awhile.” He gave the man who had done so much harm to his wife a toothy, vindictive smile. “Our son really wanted to make sure you didn’t turn tail and run like the pathetic coward you are. Took awhile to set up, but thankfully you’re just enough of an arrogant prick to give them time to do that.” 

Even then, standing there with so many powerful forces arrayed around him and cut off from his primary source of power, Fossor didn’t look beaten. How could he? Even without access to his own world, he still had literally thousands of ghost and zombie minions filling this quarry. He could still draw from them for power and health, could still use them as cannon fodder. He could still overwhelm us through sheer numbers. 

And, of course, he was accustomed to beating the odds and destroying his opponents. He’d been doing so for thousands of years by this point. No one had ever truly beaten him, not in any lasting way. 

So, I was hardly surprised when the vindictive piece of shit snarled, “You think this means you’ve won?  You think being cut off from my own world will be the end of me? I am not so easily vanquished by a child. You say no one can leave this place? So be it. You will all die.” Even as he spoke, hundreds of those undead creatures put themselves between us and him. Those hundreds became thousands, forming a blockade to keep us away from their master. Between them and that forcefield of his, I’m sure he felt about as safe as he could.

At the same time, I saw dozens of ghosts fly straight into Fossor, vanishing as they were absorbed by him. He was making himself stronger, converting their very lives (or unlives) into strength and power for himself. I saw enchanted artifact after enchanted artifact appear in his hands before activating with various flashes of light and sound. He was pulling out all the stops, using everything he had to make himself stronger and to give himself the edge before we could get through his shield. 

“I’ve brought more than enough to this place to finish each and every one of you,” his furious voice declared. “You think me foolish enough not to prepare for this eventuality? You’ve already exhausted yourselves against the hordes that were here before, yet look around you. My legions in this quarry have not dwindled, while you have thrown yourselves again and again against the bloodied rocks. How much more do you have in you to continue this fight?” 

It was my mother who spoke. “Enough,” she informed him, “to see you dead.” 

That prompted what sounded like a mix between a near-hysterical laugh and a snarl. “No. No, you don’t. Believe me, Joselyn, even now there are not enough of you to end this the way you so desperately want it to. Not even with everything your little girl has done and all the allies she has summoned. While I admit she is quite charismatic, even she doesn’t have enough friends for that.” 

Lifting my gaze up toward the sky at a bit of motion, I did a double-take, then smiled despite myself. “Who said I only summoned friends?” 

Fossor, in turn, followed my gaze by looking up. Which gave him a nice view of three jagged, four-foot-wide bolts of red energy that shot straight down side-by-side before slamming into his forcefield. The shield blew apart, leaving the Necromancer stumbling backward as he took in the sight above him. 

“Hello again, old man,” Ruthers, hovering in the air above Fossor, greeted him in a voice filled with the sort of anger and hate that had spent centuries simmering. Part of that deadly red energy still crackled around his hand, adding emphasis to the words. “It’s been a long time.” 

Yeah, I had included Gabriel Ruthers in my beacons (which had apparently successfully triggered at some point in all of that). Because beating Fossor was too important to worry about anything else. So I even called him for help. And not just him. Hovering on either side of the man were a couple more Committee members, Calafia and Percival. They were the sources of the other two beams that had worked together with Ruthers’ to blow apart Fossor’s shield. 

Once again, I was rewarded with a look of total surprise as Fossor took in the realization of what I’d done. He truly couldn’t comprehend that I would have deliberately called for help from Ruthers of all people. Nor that Ruthers hated him so much he would show up and focus on him while ignoring my mother and me. 

Soon, however, he found his voice. Still surrounded by his army of undead, an army that seemed to have grown larger in that time as scattered members formed up in position to protect their master, the man snarled, “Well isn’t this just a wonderful sight? Sworn enemies working together. It tickles me, it really does. Makes a man feel special.” His eyes narrowed then. “But you won’t be enough. All of you weren’t enough before and three won’t be enough now. Surely you must realize that I don’t have to win this battle. That spell they’ve been using to keep me here? It can only run at the power it needs to trap me for so long. I only have to delay you and keep you posturing long enough for it to run out. Or should I say, only had to delay, because–” 

“The spell won’t be running out.” That was Percival, who stared down at the man with almost as much hatred and disgust as Ruthers. “Sorry, but it’s not just three of us. It’s five, and the other two are busy making sure this spell stays just as charged as it needs to be to keep you right here.” 

Needless to say, Fossor didn’t like that. Delaying us long enough to run out the spell that was trapping him here had been the only reason he stayed as calm as he was. Now, with the news that the power of two full Committee members had been added to keep the spell going, he knew that was useless. 

He had one chance, just one. If he could get out of range of the spell, he could escape. Then none of this would actually matter. I could see that realization come to the man. His only chance to get out of this was to make a run for it. 

Ruthers saw it too, because just as Fossor’s mouth opened to say something, he vanished from his place in the air. He didn’t teleport, he simply moved so fast he might as well have. There was no blur of motion, no sign of the man at all aside from the zombie and ghost bodies that were blown out of his way as he tore through them in a straight rush to reach Fossor. It happened in an instant, while the Necromancer’s mouth was still opening. Then, with a satisfying crack, Ruthers put his fist into Fossor’s face, knocking his head to the side even as a shockwave of concussive force rushed out, knocking a dozen or so nearby zombies to the ground. 

In that single blow, the Committee man hit Fossor with enough force to have pulverized a tank. As for the Necromancer himself, he simply blew apart. Literally, his body popped like some kind of water balloon, sending a spray of ectoplasm stuff in every direction. 

Wait, ectoplasm stuff? 

“It’s not him!” Calafia shouted, her voice magnified to fill the entire quarry. “But he’s still here! The Necromancer has disguised himself as one of his own creations! Stop them!” 

Of course. Fuck, fuck! Fossor was just that fucking slippery. Of course he hadn’t just now realized that his best bet for escaping was getting himself out of range. He’d probably known that since the moment Deveron had revealed that he was trapped here. Or even back when I’d used Herbie to strip the bulk of his power away. He was, as usual, at least a step ahead. 

He’d also obviously figured out that being the target for a lot of really powerful people was a pretty bad position to be in. At some point, probably when he was activating all those spells, he’d managed to switch places with one of his own undead things, disguising himself as a zombie or a ghost or something. Either way, it was a trick, and now the real Fossor could be any of the thousands upon thousands of creatures in front of us. Thousands upon thousands of options, and knowing Fossor and his magic, he could have disguised himself as any of them. 

As one, every zombie, ghost, and skeleton spoke in a chorus of a single voice, Fossor’s. A chorus of one voice that flooded the quarry. “Why, it looks like you have a bit of a problem. Why don’t we add to it?” 

With that, and with no further warning, an incredibly bright, near-sunlike explosion erupted right where we’d thought Fossor was, where the ectoplasm of his undead double was still splattered over the ground. Instantly, before the explosion had grown much larger than a large van, Ruthers, Prosser, Percival, and Calafia all snapped their hands out. Energy leapt from them to surround the explosion. Yet it didn’t go away. Whatever spell Fossor had triggered, it was strong enough that it was taking all four of them just to contain it. 

That was the point, I realized immediately. Whatever that spell was, it kept those four busy. They couldn’t let it go or it would kill all of us. And we couldn’t retreat because of Wyatt’s spell keeping us here. We either had to lower the spell, allowing Fossor to escape that way, or keep it up and let four of the biggest guns we had stay off the board to stop the explosion from killing everyone. 

Oh, and because that wasn’t enough, all the beings Fossor had summoned, every single undead creature of the thousands upon thousands that filled this quarry, broke and rushed in every direction. It was a flood of monsters, running every which way. All of them intent on escaping the quarry. And somewhere in that rush, somewhere hidden amongst them, was the Necromancer himself. 

It was total chaos. Which was, again, just what Fossor wanted. Everyone was fighting, everyone was screaming. I heard ten voices in ten different places say they found him. Fossor, messing with people. Making different zombies look like him to throw people off. I saw Avalon nearby, taking the head off one ‘Fossor’ zombie, only for the head to revert back to its very non-Fossor appearance as it rolled along the ground. All around me it was the same story. People found ‘Fossor’ only for it not to be him. A dozen zombies were killed instantly as my mother snapped her hand up, making metal spikes rise out of the ground, impale them, then disintegrate the remains. 

All the forces we had, all the literally staggering amount of power in this quarry, meant that killing the fucking things wasn’t an issue. The problem was the sheer numbers. Because I’d been wrong in my estimates. This wasn’t thousands of zombies. It was hundreds of thousands. It had to be. Between everything flying in the air, to everything on the ground, to the fact that they just kept fucking coming no matter how many were killed, there were hundreds of thousands of Fossor’s minions in this quarry, and Fossor could have disguised himself as any of them. I’d cut Fossor off from his own world, but he was by no means helpless. He still had all of his forces that were already here on Earth, and he’d put every single one of them in this single quarry to serve as distractions. 

Ruthers, the other Committee members, Prosser, together they probably could have wiped out this entire army much faster than we could. But they were caught holding back that explosion spell or whatever it was. They couldn’t take their focus off it long enough to end this.

It was up to the rest of us. We had to find the real Fossor. We had to figure out which one of the hundreds of thousands of things rushing to escape the quarry was actually him.

Because if we didn’t figure it out, right now, he was going to escape. And then all of this would have been for nothing. 

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Kairos 9-04 (Heretical Edge 2)

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Eight geysers of blood blew their way out of the ground, each like a firehose of red-stained water turned on full blast. Those eight sanguine jets hardened immediately into long, deadly spikes and rushed toward Shiori, Avalon, Asenath, and me. Two for each of us, and they came in the blink of an eye, faster than most people would have been able to even think, let alone dodge. 

But we weren’t most people. Even as my pair of red-tinted spikes were about to shove themselves through my stomach and chest, I was already pivoting while lashing out with my staff. A quick kinetic blast blew the sharpened ends off, making those ends shift back into liquid form to spray off to the side. 

Meanwhile, just to my left, Shiori slipped directly between her own incoming spears, catching hold of one before flipping herself up onto it. She then opened her mouth and used the Cù-Sith’s sonic scream, projecting a blast of sound that was so loud and so focused on a very small area, that it literally shattered part of the red spikes a bit closer to the point where they had popped out of the ground, making both fall apart. Shiori, of course, ended up covered in blood as her temporary perch went from solid to liquid. 

Avalon and Asenath were dealing with theirs too, but they were behind me, so I had no idea what they did. Only that they were alive and still moving, according to my item sense. 

Unfortunately, no sooner had we broken Fossor’s blood spikes and made them turn back into liquid, than they were suddenly solid again. And this time, they weren’t spikes. Instead, dozens of snakes, spiders, and scorpions, all made of solid-formed blood, erupted from those puddles and were set upon us. They were everywhere, dozens of them biting and stinging while we tried to smack them away. But whenever we tried to hit them, they turned back into liquid and just reformed an instant later. It was like trying to punch water. It was all we could do to survive those few precious seconds. Alone, even the four of us probably would have been overwhelmed. 

But we weren’t alone. And not only because of my mother and her team fighting Fossor on the other side in a fast-pitched battle I couldn’t even hope to keep track of while in the midst of my own. Virginia Dare was with us too, a fact she made sure to remind the son of a bitch of by appearing directly in between our group, a quick teleport. She had her spell-loaded sword in one hand, already shouting a command word while she drove the blade through one of the blood-formed snakes that had been trying to lunge at me. As the blade passed through the crimson serpent, it turned liquid once more. But then it also turned into powder and dust, blowing apart. An instant later, the rest of the blood-creatures did the same as the spell apparently passed to them. We were clear, for a brief moment anyway. 

In that moment, I caught a glimpse of my mother fighting alongside her oldest friends (and first husband). The magical energy blade she summoned extended itself out to be ten feet long for a single swing, cutting through a giant skeletal hand that had been ripping its way out of the ground toward them. Even as the bones fell, Tribald Kine clapped his own hands together, creating some kind of wind-ball that flew out from him, caught the shattered bones, and sent them flying away. Meanwhile, Deveron and Lillian were both dealing with a small army of giant zombified vulture-creatures, and the two Dornan men had a dozen ghosts captured in some sort of energy net. 

That was all I was able to see in that brief glimpse, before a backhanded, almost contemptuous gesture from Fossor sent a brand new threat our way. This one came in the form of a deep, incredibly heavy fog. Suddenly, it was all-but impossible to see more than a foot or so in front of our faces. Worse, the fog was cold. So cold I felt ice immediately start to form around and on me. It was an oppressive, magic sort of cold. It made me want to just…. stop, just lie down and stay completely… just… take a little nap, a quick one. It wouldn’t hurt that much in the long run, would it? I could close my eyes, curl in on myself, and then go right back to the important business of… of whatever I was doing. Yeah, it couldn’t be that–

FLICK! 

It was Tabbris, screaming in my head as she took over my body to trigger the boost from the staff, launching us upward. We flew out of the magic fog, and I felt the supernatural cold fade, along with the overwhelming tiredness and confusion. I could see Mom and the others on her side fighting Fossor head-on. They hit him repeatedly, but of course nothing stuck. He just passed off everything that could possibly hurt him to any of his billions of magical hostages. It was taking everything they had just to stop him from progressing. They couldn’t actually hurt him. And in a fight like that, it didn’t matter how powerful or skilled they were. Fossor would win through sheer attrition. Eventually they would slip up, no matter how good they were.  

Worse, I couldn’t see Dare or any of the other three through that thick fog. I’d only managed to avoid falling to it thanks to my partner. The others didn’t have that bit of help. I had to do something to clear it out. But what? 

All of that, taking in what my mother’s group was doing, along with the rush of thoughts about Avalon and the others, came even as I started to fall back into the fog. The blast had only taken me up so far. But I compensated by using the Lemevwik’s power on the feet part of my Seosten bodysuit, freezing their descent. Again, it would only last for a few seconds. But for those seconds, the feet of my suit, and thus my whole body, stopped falling. It was like standing on solid ground. 

A few seconds. I had a few seconds to figure out how to get rid of that magic fog. But how? How?! I didn’t have the power to just blow it away, and there wasn’t–

Wait. There. One second into my frantic rush of thoughts, I saw a small hole in the ground just beyond the fog. It would have been impossible to notice from below, but from this angle it was visible. The hole was only a few inches across, and the fog was being projected from it. That was the source. 

Without wasting another instant, I shifted my staff back into its bow form. Even as the Lemevwik’s power faded and my body started falling once more, I managed to send a kinetic-energy arrow right at that hole. It struck home, blowing a spray of dirt and rock in every direction and destroying the spell rune that Fossor had apparently placed there ahead of time, no doubt when he was prepping this place for an event like this. And I had no doubt there were more surprises like that all over. After all, the man was annoyingly good at being prepared. A place where he was setting up his final, apocalyptic spell to kill and take over all Bosch Heretics and subsequently all of Earth? After his regular home had been attacked? Yeah, he would have tricks and traps like that all over the place, just ready to be triggered. 

This one, however, was dealt with. The instant I blew apart the bit of ground where the spell rune had been, the magic freezing fog vanished like it had never been there. I landed in a crouch, just beside Avalon even as the other girl straightened from where she had been hunched in on herself. 

“Flick,” she managed, in a voice that cracked from emotion. 

“I know,” I managed, though there was so much more I desperately wanted to say. “Later. This first. This now. We stop Fossor. It’s all that matters.” 

She gave a very short nod, a bare acknowledgment. She knew. We all knew. Nothing mattered except for putting Fossor in the fucking ground for good. Ending him before he ended us. That was all there was to it. Nothing else, not my love for Avalon and Shiori, not my desperate need to reunite with my mother, not my relief to have Tabbris back with me, not my worry about Dare being my actual grandmother, none of that held a candle to stopping Fossor right now

Without another word exchanged between us, Avalon and I ran together toward the monster himself. Within two steps, Shiori was on my other side, joined by Asenath. 

An army of undead rose into our path. Hundreds of rotting corpses tore their way out of the ground, forcing themselves between us and our target. I couldn’t control that many, not even close. And fighting them would slow us down. It was too much, this fucker never ran out of troops! 

A deafening roar filled the air, and I saw an Amarok–Dare. It was Dare, in her full Amarok form. The giant wolf, bigger than a city bus, lunged over our heads and landed right in the middle of the largest concentration of zombies. She spun, taking half a dozen into her mouth and pitching them away even as her tail and legs knocked more flying. A path, she was clearing a path. 

The four of us raced right between the giant wolf’s legs, sprinting together into the semi-open space she was creating. 

Semi-open, because there were still zombies around, still undead tearing their way out of the ground and toward us. Dare-Wolf was doing everything she could to clear space for us to move, but we still had to deal with plenty of them ourselves. 

Avalon pivoted toward me, Porthos (her lizard-cyberform) in his pistol form clutched in one hand as she fired three quick shots. They came so close that one brushed through my hair, each hitting a different zombie behind me in the head. At the same time, her other arm stabbed to her left, gauntlet manifesting a buzzsaw blade that took the head off a fourth zombie that was coming toward Shiori before the buzzsaw immediately transformed into two horizontal blades faced in opposite directions that extended outward to spear through the heads of two more enemies. 

Shiori, at the same time, was hurling her electrified discs through the foreheads of a couple different zombies while simultaneously lashing out with a kick against a third into its chest. That third zombie was sent stumbling backward, just as a second Shiori appeared. But it wasn’t actually a second Shiori. Not in the same way that Miranda duplicated herself. Instead, this version seemed more ghost-like, only partially visible, like a flickering image. It only appeared long enough to duplicate the exact same move Shiori had just done a moment earlier, kicking the zombie further away. Then it vanished and a third Shiori appeared, this one even more indistinct and flickering, kicking the zombie yet again in the exact same way. That continued through a total of five increasingly flickering and gradually almost invisible duplicates, all doing the exact same thing until the zombie was positioned directly under Dare-Wolf’s giant foot just as it came down hard, smashing the undead thing. 

Meanwhile, as Avalon fired those three shots past my head and Shiori’s repeated semi-tangible duplicates kicked the zombie into position for Dare, I drove the blade of my staff down through a portal I had created. The other end of the portal opened up behind Valley, sending the blade into the head of the zombie that had been moving up behind her even as she focused on watching the backs of Shiori and me. Just as quickly, I yanked the staff out of the portal, shouting her name as I threw myself that way. 

Avalon reacted instantly, ducking down and bending forward to present her back to me, which I used by planting one hand on it to vault over her while lashing out with my staff. The bladed end cut through two zombies that were coming up on that side, while I simultaneously launched the grapple-end into the face of another one, retracting it to rip the head off entirely. 

Behind me, Avalon had straightened in time to switch Porthos to his lizard form, tossing him onto the shoulder of another incoming zombie. Porthos, in turn, pulled his tail free, using it as his sword to stab into the neck of the undead creature he was perched on. With a rush of chittering nonsense words that sounded like his own version of some epic declaration, the tiny cyberform stabbed the zombie repeatedly in the neck, severing the head and riding the body to the ground. 

Just beyond Avalon’s lizard, as I shifted my staff to its bow form and fired a shot into a group that was moving to cut us off, Asenath had flipped up and over a zombie that was lunging for her, hurling two daggers into the foreheads of a couple others who were coming toward her. As she landed, the girl produced a third dagger, driving it backwards through the back of the first zombie’s head. Then she pivoted, lashing out with a roundhouse kick that hit the hilt of that last knife so hard, it was projected all the way through the zombie’s head and out the other side to fly into the throat of yet another one. 

The zombies kept coming, making us pay in drastic violence for every single inch of ground we gained. Even with Dare-Wolf above us, dealing with the largest concentration of them (and she was doing a hell of a lot more than biting them, actually involving a lot of lightning, fire, and wind in the process to blow them away), there were still a fair number who made it through. 

And yet, we pressed on. I took two steps, then ducked and spat a glob of quick-hardening resin against the feet of two zombies who were in mid-lunge. They were stopped short in their tracks, just before Shiori’s hurled discs tore through their necks, leaving the heads to fall to either side. But before the two bodies could drop, Avalon was there. She grabbed both by the chests, disintegrating them into dust the way I’d seen her do earlier. Her hands snapped outward then, sending the disintegrated zombie dust flying onto another pair before it ignited in green flames once more. The zombies were melted by the intense heat. 

A skeletal form tore its way up from the ground to grab Avalon’s ankles and bite into her leg, but I was already there. I’d felt the thing arriving, and my hand snapped up, forcing the undead creature to stop in mid-lunge. It released her, and with a quick gesture from both hands, I made it scramble its way out of the hole before sending it running into another of its own kind. They collided violently and collapsed together, leaving a tangled heap of bones on the ground from the impressive tackle. 

While I was doing that, Tabbris took control of my right hand, creating a quick portal before stabbing the blade of the staff through it to punch into the side of another zombie’s head just before it could grab Shiori. That girl, in turn, had been in the midst of catching a skeleton’s incoming swinging arm against both of her discs, before she gave a sharp whistle and made the thing’s head blow apart into bone-dust. 

A quick burst from my staff sent me flying that way, just in time to put my foot through the chest of a zombie that had been right between my girls. And that was literally through the chest of the zombie. It was gooey. 

Even as that one was falling, Avalon blurted my name while seemingly punching right at my face. I ducked, letting her extend the blade to take the head off the thing that had been coming up behind me. 

At the same time, Shiori extended her own hand, snapping, “Gun!” Which was all it took for Valley to backhand toss Porthos to her before the other girl snapped him up in his pistol form and fired three rapid shots that took yet another trio of zombies out that had been coming up from behind Avalon. 

Kill, punch, stab, dodge, kick, power. It went on and on. Dozens and dozens of the things fell, and yet dozens and dozens remained. There was no limit to them, none. We were closer to Fossor, but he was also closer to the altar, gradually forcing my mother and her team back inch by inch. And we weren’t closing the gap fast enough. It was all Dare could do to keep things as clear as they were so that we weren’t completely overwhelmed. Not to mention everyone else who was here fighting in the quarry. Fossor had billions of forces at his disposal. Even if he could only bring over so many at a time, our small group would have been completely destroyed without literally everyone else who had our backs. 

But it wasn’t enough. There were still… fuck, way too many zombies in our way. Fossor had flooded the area between us with another hundred or so, and there wasn’t time to deal with all of them. There just wasn’t time! 

Flick! Tabbris’s voice in my head blurted. Tell Shiori to electrocute you, absorb it all, then on the count of three, boost with everything you’ve got. All of it! 

I didn’t question it. I had questions, for sure. But I trusted my sister. “Shiori!” I snapped. “Shock me, now!” 

To her credit, she didn’t question it either. I felt her slam both her discs against my back, flooding me with electricity while I focused on absorbing everything I could. In the back of my mind, I heard Tabbris counting. On three, I shoved everything I’d absorbed into my boost. I felt Tabbris doing the same, adding her own boost to mine. 

The world slowed down dramatically. I saw the incoming horde blocking our way. I saw every detail of their rotting faces. I saw my mother and her people on the far side of Fossor, fighting to stop him from getting any closer to his target. I saw all of it. 

My staff hit the ground, slammed down by Tabbris as she triggered the kinetic blast while simultaneously leaping with our feet. We hurled up into the air, just barely missing colliding with Dare as the giant wolf moved aside. The horde of zombies stretched out below us, while more flying versions were already incoming. But for this single moment, we had an opening. 

And boy did Tabbris use that opening. As we were briefly suspended there in mid-air, I felt… power unlike any I had ever felt before. Wings made of golden light erupted from my back, extending outward to either side to flare like a literal fucking angel. 

Then… annihilation. The wings fired a massive laser, empowered by our combined super-charged boosts, which tore through the line of zombies below and utterly decimated them. There was nothing left but a crater full of random assorted body parts. Nothing. 

A second later, we landed in a crouch right in front of Shiori, Avalon, and Asenath, with Dare already reverting to her human form right behind all of us. 

I… had questions. God damn did I have questions. But there wasn’t time. All that mattered was getting to Fossor. And right now, the way was open. 

But it wasn’t open for long. While the five of us raced that way, more of those undead troops were rising to plug the gap that Tabbris had created. They fell in behind and around us like a flood of water rushing to fill in a brief hole. Even as we ran, they kept coming. Dare pivoted, using a forcefield to block a rush from behind us. With one hand, she tossed something to me. It was a round piece of metal with a rune inscribed on it. 

“Get it to your mother! She can use it to break the altar!” 

With the enchanted bit of metal in one hand, I sprinted. Avalon shouted for me to keep going, focusing her own efforts to the left side to keep those ones down. Shiori and Asenath turned to the right, repeating Valley’s words. 

And me? I ran straight on. Fossor was there, face to face with my mother. Most of the others were caught up, dealing with other things he had summoned. But Mom still stood in his way, albeit barely. They were only a few feet from the altar, and she was faltering a bit. Nothing she did actually stuck. She could kill this fucker a dozen times over or more and it wouldn’t matter. 

Then she saw me, and steely resolve returned to her gaze. Her sword snapped up, actually cutting through the one that Fossor had summoned, before she lashed out with a kick that sent him stumbling backward toward me. As she did so, I used a quick portal, shoving my hand through to drop Dare’s magic bit of metal into Mom’s grasp. I felt her fingers against mine ever-so-briefly.

Then my hand pulled back as the portal disappeared. Mom had the thing in her grasp. Our gazes met. We locked eyes. And then my mother did the one thing Fossor never could have expected. 

She turned her back to him and focused on the altar itself. 

In that moment, at that very instant, my mother… trusted me to handle Fossor for the few seconds it would take. She didn’t rush to protect me. She didn’t focus on keeping him away from me. She trusted me. And she put my fate in that trust, while she herself dealt with the threat to the actual world. 

Fossor, taken aback, screamed a threat while Mom raised the enchanted metal disc above the altar. He saw what she was doing, and it was apparently a real threat, because suddenly he was very focused on killing her. 

But I wouldn’t let that happen. With my own scream, I launched myself at him. His free hand lashed out to contemptuously smack me away… except I wasn’t there. Instead of blindly flinging my body at him, I had used a short burst from my staff to arrest my motion in mid-leap. Dropping to a crouch just as Fossor’s hand passed right over my head, I triggered the grapple, launching it full-force into the hand that he was pointing at my mother. The grapple itself passed right over his arm, but the energy rope part caught him, yanking his extended hand to the side just before he could finish whatever he had been intending to do to stop her. 

And then it was too late. Mom’s hand with that disc came slamming down as she blurted a single command word. With a brilliant, blinding burst of energy and light, the altar literally disintegrated before our eyes. Every bit of magic that Fossor had put into it just… fell apart. 

As for the man himself, he… wasn’t happy. To say the least. A deafening scream of rage erupted from him, and he was suddenly moving at me. I brought up my staff to defend myself, but he smacked it aside easily. “You take what I want?!” he bellowed at my mother, while a flickering green forcefield sprang up around us, cutting her off even as she lunged to save me. 

The world spun as Fossor easily manhandled me, throwing me against the ground so hard it took my breath away. His foot stomped down on my chest, making that whole breathing thing worse. Then he stomped hard on my arm, snapping it. Pain filled me as I cried out, only for the man to stomp down on my wrist that time. That broke too, renewing my cry. It would heal, pretty fast considering everything I’d gotten regeneration from. But not quick enough for me to defend myself. Beyond the forcefield, Mom was shouting at him. 

Fossor didn’t care. A snarl filled his voice. “You take what I want?” he repeated, “I will take what you want. But first, I will… break!” With that word, he stomped on my hand, and I felt something snap there. “Every!” Another stomp, and two more fingers broke. “Bone!” He stomped yet again. My hand felt like he was crushing it. Agony filled my every thought. 

Well, almost every thought. I did have one more…

“In!” Fossor continued, his foot coming down once more. Except… this time he didn’t hit my hand. His foot collided with something solid. And as he did, a thunderclap, loud enough to rock the heavens, filled the quarry. A level of power I had never experienced, not even when Fossor had sent me to the future, suddenly washed through the air like a shockwave going in every direction. 

He knew something was wrong. He felt it immediately. Doubling over with a gasp of genuine shock, Fossor snapped, “What–what… my world… my world, I can’t–what did…” 

Yeah, Fossor’s connection to his own world was gone. He’d triggered the curse that said setting foot on Earth ground without stepping on ashes from his people would sever his connection to his homeworld and all those people. Suddenly, he wasn’t a necromancer who controlled billions. All he had was what was already here on Earth. No more unlimited reinforcements. No more passing off every bit of damage that was done to him to literally billions of hostages. 

He was vulnerable. 

In his shock as to how that was possible, Fossor lifted his foot, the one he had been using to stomp my hand into dust. Clenched there in my palm, right where he had technically ‘stepped’, was a small… entirely Earth-bound stone. An Earth-bound stone wearing a hat and holding a tiny sword. 

“That’s right, you piece of shit,” I managed through gritted teeth. 

“Herbie says hi.”

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Kairos 9-03 (Heretical Edge 2)

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

In that moment, it would’ve been easy to think that we outnumbered our opponent. But, of course, we didn’t. Not in the least. Fossor, after all, commanded and controlled more than an entire world’s worth of slaves he could kill and bring to his aid at a moment’s notice. From what I’d been told, he was at least limited from bringing over literally billions of ghosts with a snap of his fingers, because even he was only so powerful. Particularly when it came to transporting his troops intergalactic distances. 

But while he couldn’t easily bring over billions, or even millions of his cannon-fodder, there was nothing stopping him from bringing over thousands. Which he did, in that exact moment. With no warning, none at all, the quarry was suddenly overrun. Thousands of ghosts, zombies, skeletons, everything dead that Fossor could push his control into, manifested and attacked. They tore their way out of the ground, descended from the air, or simply appeared around us, tearing their way into apparent existence as though ripping through the fabric of space itself. 

In my case, it started as the huge fist of a (dead) Meregan male punched its way out of the dirt. It came so unexpectedly that I took the blow head-on and was sent crashing to the ground, even as the ten-foot-tall figure clambered out of the dirt. The giant zombie roared, slamming both fists down toward me just before Tabbris took control and threw us into a backward roll. 

Mom was fighting her own Meregan giant, along with a handful of fire-manipulating ghosts that seemed intent on trapping her. No, intent on cutting us off from each other. More and more of Fossor’s newly summoned troops were flooding the area between us. 

It was the same all around me. Everyone who had come to help, my old team, my mentors, my friends, my family, everyone was being swarmed. While pushing myself up, from the corner of my eye, I saw Avalon, beautiful amazon that she was, take the heads off of three zombies with a single swipe of a glowing energy blade projected from her gauntlet. In the next second, her hand snapped out to touch one of the collapsing bodies. Under her grip, the zombie disintegrated into a cloud of dust. That dust, at a quick gesture from Avalon, flew into an incoming ghost before suddenly igniting into green flames. Those flames, in turn, destroyed the ghost, making it blow apart with a scream. 

Others, there were others. Shiori of course. God, Shiori. And not only them, not only my girls. But Sands, Koren, Sarah, Sean, Columbus–everyone. I wanted to see them. I wanted to check on them, wanted to help them. But I couldn’t. That fleeting glance was the best I could manage, before my own giant Meregan opponent hurled himself at me. 

But Fossor had taught me a lot. More than I wanted to know really. Particularly about controlling zombies and Meregan in particular. My right hand snapped up, stopping the charging giant in his tracks. He literally froze, just for a moment. I could feel Fossor’s power warring against mine. It would win out in the end. But I only needed a moment. In that time, I snapped my hand down and out, making both of his much larger hands follow suit, slamming into a few smaller skeletal-creatures who had been rushing past him to reach me. 

Meanwhile, completely on her own, Tabbris had taken control of my left hand, the one with the staff. She triggered the cloud of sand to shoot out, superheating it in the process before sending the sand through three zombies that had been coming at us from behind. At the same time, even as the sand was burning through them, she used my mouth to trigger a renewed ghost-fire spell on the staff itself, as the other one had run out. With the staff newly-empowered, Tabbris hurled it through a ghost that was coming up from our other side, before recalling it. 

All of that simply in the time it took me to take control of the Meregan and have him smash those skeletons. We were working together, cooperating and multitasking the way Elisabet and Jophiel had been helping teach us to. In this moment, as we fell instantly back into sync, it was like we’d never been separated. Both of us using my body, my powers, to attack multiple enemies at the same time in entirely different ways. 

And yet, even with that, there were still so many enemies around us. Prosser by himself had been set on by wave after wave of the strongest undead I’d ever seen. Even he, powerful as he was, couldn’t easily swat them aside. He, Gwen, Sariel, Athena, all of them were being attacked by so fucking many of the empowered necromantic creatures. The entire quarry was swarmed, covered, engulfed by these monsters. They came from everywhere, tearing, slashing, clawing, even biting at everyone who sought to stop their master. If Mom and I had been on our own against that kind of onslaught, we never would have lasted as long as we had. It wouldn’t even have been close. 

But, of course, Fossor hadn’t been trying with us as much as he was now. It was patently obvious that, even while he was angry and fighting my mother and me, he’d been dramatically holding back. He still wanted to pull off his spell, after all, and had been saving power for that. That and he was just so accustomed to two people, especially the two of us, not being any real threat, that he didn’t need to go all-out. But now? Now he’d been backed into a corner. He was surrounded by an army of super-powered, pissed off people who wanted him dead. So there were no more half-measures. He was showing us, and everyone else, why he was such a threat. Even in the face of so many absurdly powerful beings, Fossor still had the advantage. Because, powerful as all these people were, cutting through literally billions of hostages in order to actually hurt the son of a bitch himself would take too long. Especially when he could send tens of thousands, maybe even hundreds of thousands given enough time, of those same hostages to actively attack. 

But none of that mattered. Not in the long run. It was all noise, distractions from the main point, the main problem: Fossor himself. Because the necromancer hadn’t given up on his plan. Even as a warzone raged around him, even as thousands of his troops were repeatedly summoned and destroyed by some of the most powerful beings on the planet, he was still moving to that altar. He’d been knocked back a couple hundred feet by Gabriel’s shovel-blow. But he was making up the difference, heading right for the altar while using his minions as cover. Strong as everyone here was, even they could only work so fast. Fossor didn’t need to win this fight, he didn’t need his undead minions to actually succeed at beating all of us. He only needed them to play distraction long enough for him to reach that altar and finish his spell. 

I couldn’t let that happen. We couldn’t. With a quick thought, I shoved all the knowledge of what was going on and the risks of just how bad it could be into Tabbris so she would know how important this was. At the same time, I made my commandeered Meregan zombie pivot back that way and sent him running to tackle another of his own (dead) people. I’d worry about the horrors of what I was doing in that moment later. Right now, the only thing that mattered, the only thing, was stopping Fossor. Whatever it took. 

Even as I started to throw myself into a sprint that way, Tabbris was absorbing what I’d ‘told’ her. She gave no verbal response, because one wasn’t needed. Instead, I felt her take control of the burning sand once more, using it to help clear the path and leaving me to focus on actually getting to Fossor in time. The white-hot cloud flew ahead of us, burning through the legs of two zombies so they would fall and allow me to jump over them. Just as quickly, even as I was still in mid-air from that jump, she used my hands to convert the staff into its bow form and sent a shot off to the side to hit three skeletons who were tearing their way out of the ground. 

So many. Fuck, there were so fucking many of these things! Too many to find a way to portal through. They were everywhere, so many I couldn’t even actually see Fossor himself anymore after that brief glimpse. Everywhere I glanced there were hundreds of them, swarming in out of nowhere. He was dumping dozens on top of us with every passing second, filling up every inch of space. For every undead minion that one of us killed, ten more appeared. Between the noise, the screams, the clash of weapons, gunshots, the fwoom and crash of powers, it was utter insanity. No one could keep any of this straight. No one could be expected to focus through all of that. Which, of course, was what Fossor was counting on. Chaos was where he thrived, in this moment. All he had to do was keep everyone busy for these crucial seconds. After that it would all be over, in every way that mattered. 

I only managed two more steps past the legless zombies before a ghost appeared in front of me. This one looked like some kind of reptilian crocodile-humanoid, about nine feet tall and covered in some kind of crackling electricity. Electricity that the semi-translucent figure sent flying at me with a snarl of rage that I was pretty sure actually came from Fossor himself. 

The electricity never reached me. Before I could even move, a sudden wall of stone emerged from the ground to catch the attack. A second later, stairs rose as well, giving me a way over it.

“Go!” Sands blurted, even as she spun to slam her ghost-fire enchanted mace into the side of the spectral-reptilian’s head with so much force he was blown apart in a spray of ectoplasm. “We’ll cover you, we’ve got you, just go!”

As if in response to her words, three zombie heads suddenly exploded, as a shot from Sarah’s rifle blew through them in a line. An instant later, a ghost that had appeared behind Sands was disintegrated by a second quick shot. 

I wasn’t alone anymore. Not in any way. With a quick, blurted thanks, I raced up the stairs that Sands had created. Once I reached the top, the other girl made a sharp gesture with her mace, extending a bridge out from the wall that I could run along. 

She couldn’t get me all the way there, of course. And even from that height, there were still so many ghosts flying through the air that getting a good look at Fossor or the altar was impossible. I still couldn’t just launch or portal myself there. There were too many threats in the way, too many minions that would stop me. 

But the bridge that Sands had created at least got me closer. I was able to run a good twenty feet along it, over the heads and grasping hands of the zombies below. On the way, Tabbris focused on keeping the various dead things from scrambling their way up with us, using burning sand and the staff to either blast them with stored kinetic force directly or to create mines that blew them away from us. A couple managed to climb onto the path ahead of us, but I just leapt up and over them without breaking stride. With my copilot, my little sister, on board once more, I didn’t have to worry about watching my back. She did that. She helped keep the damn things off us so I could focus on moving forward. Without her, I would’ve had to slow down. Without her, I never would have caught up with the piece of shit who was trying to kill and enslave everyone I cared about. 

Reaching the end of the bridge, I was met by an enormous ghost with four arms and some kind of rhino-like horn, hovering there. The ghost gave a wide (too-wide) smile with its large, gaping mouth before that horn started to glow even brighter than the rest of it. 

In the next instant, before I even had a chance to avoid whatever rhino-ghost wanted to do, a blonde figure leapt between us. Nevada. She had that chainsaw-sword of hers, and it was apparently enchanted to hurt ghosts as well, because my would-be attacker gave a violent scream as the buzzing, rapidly-rotating chain sword was shoved into and through him. As the ghost blew apart, Nevada lashed out with her free hand to send a small red ball into a group of skeleton-creatures nearby. The ball exploded into a blast of energy that blew the skeletons apart into pieces of bone, then sort of… reformed and sucked the remains into it. Seriously, it basically hoovered the pieces of bone all back inside it after blowing apart, then returned to Nevada’s hand. 

Meanwhile, I kept moving. Even as the ball returned to its creator’s hand, Nevada pivoted and pointed with the hand that still held her sword. A ring on one of her fingers glowed, sending out a solid-light extension of the stone bridge that reached about thirty feet closer. As I passed her, she turned back to keep my pursuers away. 

Even with her help, Tabbris and I weren’t alone on this bridge. We had to fight our way through every inch of space, as more and more creatures were sent after us. Some kind of flying zombie, a rotting thing with bat-wings and a head that was as large as its body, flew down to grab me by the shoulders while both of us were focused on other threats. 

But it didn’t hold on for long. A beam of concussive force passed right over my head, blowing the flying zombie’s head off before it could so much as screech. 

Columbus. He’d teleported onto the bridge and was already using another couple quick blasts from his goggles to blow away two more of those flying zombies who had been trying to swoop in. He’d also brought Sean with him, who turned back the other way with Vulcan in his minigun form, opening up a devastating hail of bullets that tore through all the creatures who had been blocking our path, opening it up. 

“Better get going, Flickster!” Sean called, still sweeping Vulcan back and forth to pick off those who were still moving. Hundreds of bullets tore through the things. “These hijueputas ain’t gonna stop coming!” 

There was so much I wanted to say right then. But I couldn’t. There wasn’t time. There just… wasn’t time. So, I kept moving, sprinting between the two while praying that there would be a ‘later’ to actually say all the things I wanted to. 

At the end of this second bridge, I was met not by a threat, but a friend. My oldest friend, actually. Miranda was there, using her shield to block several sprays of what looked like acid spit from far below before raising one hand. A distortion in the air, like an almost-invisible tennis ball made of violently twisting and spinning air, appeared in her grasp. With a grunt, she threw it right into the midst of the creatures who were attacking from below, and I arrived just in time to see the tightly-contained winds within it blow apart, sending the creatures violently flying in every direction. 

Even as I reached her, Miranda split off a duplicate, both of them giving me quick, wild grins. “You made it!” one blurted, before the other added, “Wish we could talk, but–” 

“I know,” I interrupted. “Gotta stop him!” With that, I snapped my staff down, using the kinetic force it had charged up to launch myself up and away from them. Fossor. I had to get to Fossor. 

Two more of those flying zombies tried to intercept me in mid-flight. But they were both literally smashed into pieces by two pillars of dirt and rock that tore their way out of the ground to slam into one another, catching the winged-monsters between them. Koren. The girl was below, using one hand to form the arch she’d created out of the two pillars into a raised platform for me. Meanwhile, one of those solid-energy animals she could make, a full-sized wolf in this case, was tearing apart a skeletal figure that had tried to attack the girl. 

I landed on that platform, using it to get a look below. Fossor. There. There he was, getting closer to the altar with each step while the cataclysmic battle raged around him. With a grunt, I launched myself that way, using a blast from my staff to send myself right toward the bastard. 

More undead tried to stop me, only to be caught by the people who cared about me. 

A screaming, banshee-like spirit was captured in a forcefield-like cage by Risa Kohaku, before the cage shrank itself into a tiny ball, destroying its prisoner in the process. 

A four-legged bull-like zombie thing ripped up from the ground and opened its mouth to send a disgusting, horrifyingly long tongue up to grab me. But the tongue and the bull-zombie itself were literally frozen into a solid ice statue by Gordon Kuhn, who stood behind the thing and grabbed it. 

A giant, almost-entirely rotted humanoid corpse, so large it made the Meregan look small, tried to snatch me out of the air. But Hisao was there. Though he only came up to the undead creature’s knee, he punched the thing so hard in that knee that its leg snapped. As it fell, Hisao caught the body, pivoting to slam the thing into the ground so hard the Earth itself seemed to shake. Then I was down. I was on the ground, already running. Everyone behind and around me was still fighting for their lives. And for the lives of everyone else. No matter where I looked, I could see people I cared about being set upon by dozens of undead creatures. Roxa, Carfried, Haiden, Rebecca, Jazz, Doug, everyone and anyone. They were all doing literally everything they could to deal with the literal legion of monstrosities that Fossor had summoned. It was an army of everyone I cared about versus an army of the undead. 

As for the piece of shit himself, he’d… stopped. I realized that even as I came rushing up behind him. The man was a good thirty feet from his altar, but there was someone in his way. 

No, someones. My mother was there, but she wasn’t alone. Deveron was there too. And so were Lillian, Roger and Seamus Dornan, and Tribald Kine. Her old team. Her friends. They were right alongside her, blocking Fossor’s path. 

From the sound of his growl, the man wasn’t exactly in a good mood. I wondered why. He glanced over his shoulder at me, eyes narrowing. “It seems our girl has decided to join us all by herself,” he noted in a dark, threatening voice. 

“No, she hasn’t.” That was Avalon. Valley. She was there, right beside me. “She’s not by herself.” 

“She never is.” Shiori, appearing on my other side, put in. Both of them, both my girls, standing right there on either side of me. Both glaring at Fossor. Not only that, but Asenath was by Shiori as well, standing with her sister. 

Before the man could retort, another voice spoke up from behind the four of us. “They’re right about that, Fossor.” Dare. It was Dare, standing with her sword out to one side as her own gaze narrowed at the man who had unknowingly hurt her family so much. “Felicity will never be alone. Not in the way that you will always be.” 

“Always.” That was Rahanvael, appearing slightly in front of me. Her voice was solem. “You will always be alone, Fossor.” She was clearly making a point by using that name rather than the one belonging to her brother. “You have lived alone. And you will die alone.” 

Fossor, in turn, actually growled a little bit. He looked toward my mother and her people, then back toward me and mine. “You think so?” His words were a snarl through gritted teeth. “Come then.

“Let us see who dies today.”

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Kairos 9-02 (Heretical Edge 2)

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

A/N: For those who haven’t seen it, there was a new commissioned interlude posted yesterday that focused on the Alter-Natural Heretic organization Section Four. If you haven’t read that, you can click the previous chapter button above to do so. 

“Kill me?” Fossor chuckled, though it sounded more deranged and emotional than he probably meant it to. “Has that ever worked for you, my dearest woman, mother of my child? Oh…. I suppose I can’t call you that now, can I? Not after our girl over there got her own brother killed. Now how is that going to affect your relationship?” 

Mom’s voice was calmer than I would have expected. Cold, really. “Over ten years together. More than a decade. And you still know nothing about me.” 

“He knows little about what it means to care for anyone at all.” Those were the words that came from Rahanvael, as the ghost girl hovered nearby, her hand lightly touching her own throat, where I could see what looked like… marks of some sort. As if Fossor’s invisible grasp had left an impression in the… well, ‘skin,’ or whatever that would be called. 

As for the Necromancer himself, he actually looked a bit upset by what she’d said, his face flushing a bit as he snapped, “I have always cared for you, Rahan.” Again, he pronounced it ‘Rain.’ “Everything I have done, everything I’ve become, everything that has– it was all because I loved–love you. It was all because I wanted to protect you! I only wanted to keep you safe.” 

“You’re right.” Rahanvael’s voice was soft, barely audible, yet somehow filled with raw emotion. It quaked, the words hoarse and broken. “Everything that you have done started because you were trying to protect me. We lost our mother, and when we visited her spirit to say goodbye, you felt her. You tried to keep her there. That’s how you found out about your power, Mera. You felt her and you tried to stop her spirit from moving on, and when they wouldn’t let you, when our father forced you to let her go, you… you were so afraid. We lost our mother and you were afraid you would lose me, lose your twin. So you did what? You withdrew even more. You spent seven years obsessing over learning to control your power on your own, experimenting on animals in the woods. Seven years when we could have been living our lives.” 

“If you and Father had only listened to me, we could have had an eternity together!” Fossor… yeah, he was clearly unstable. Facing his sister like this wasn’t doing wonders for his emotions. Still, he took a moment, mastering himself (at least outwardly) before speaking again, a bit more coldly. “But you didn’t. He didn’t. He–he interrupted. I would have brought you back.”

“You did bring me back,” Rahanvael reminded him, voice still quiet. “And I have spent millennia watching you commit more atrocities, more… evil than I could have imagined entire civilizations being capable of. Your crimes may have begun when you cut my throat, Mera. But everything you’ve done, everything you’ve become, that is what tears my heart from my chest.” 

Her voice was even more hollow by that point. She finished with the last thing she needed to say. “I loved my brother. He was my everything, my Mera. You are not him. You are an empty, soulless abomination that needs to die.” 

“You…” For a moment, Fossor looked… almost lost, really. It was so brief that I might have passed it off as my imagination. But it was there. It was absolutely there. He saw his sister, saw the way she looked at him, heard what she said, and it looked like those words struck home, for just a moment. But then it vanished, either hidden away or dismissed entirely. In its place was anger. Cold anger, the sort that would leave any soul that could feel such emotion a barren wasteland. 

He spoke again, voice far emptier than I had ever heard it. “Each of you will learn the cost of your efforts. Because you seem to have forgotten one very important thing. You cannot harm me.” 

With those simple words, he straightened, blue-white flames flickering around his feet before extending out into the shape of a serpent that coiled up and around him almost protectively. It was like a… ghost. It was a ghost snake. A giant ghost snake. Fun. 

“My life is connected to those of my world–of our world,” he amended, with a look toward his sister. “How many of our people will you allow them to sacrifice before bowing to the inevitable? A hundred? A thousand? Ten thousand? More? How many will you let them put to the flames?” 

His words had an impact. I could tell that much. Rahanvael swallowed, floating there next to me. But she refused to break eye contact, staring back at him with a sad, broken voice. “Whatever it takes,” the girl informed him very quietly. “You must be stopped. A man who has already murdered millions cannot bargain with the lives of those he would kill anyway.” 

The ghost-serpent around Fossor drew itself up a bit, even as the man coldly snarled, “Then, by all means. Come and stop me.” 

Even as he said those words, the ghost-snake launched itself toward us. The thing was as big as a bus, mouth stretching wide as though it was going to try to eat us. I had no idea if it was even capable of that, given the whole ghost thing. But nor was I going to test it. With a quick thrust of my staff, I triggered the boost on it, sending myself up and over the lunging snake. Below me, Mom vanished from where she was standing, appearing off to the side while producing a glowing blue energy sword in one hand that she used to cut into its side. 

The snake wasn’t the only issue, of course. Fossor still had a literal army of ghosts and zombies he could throw at us. And throw them at us he did, as what looked like a tidal wave of the undead creatures came swarming in from all sides. The Necromancer wasn’t fucking around anymore. Even as I launched myself up, I could see an army of the creatures coming in from all sides, practically falling in on us like a tidal wave. This wasn’t a few ghosts, or a handful of zombies. This wasn’t something he expected us to fight. He expected us to be massacred. 

In mid-air, I dropped my staff, focusing on using the object-stopping power I’d just learned about. The staff froze, even as my feet came down on it. The freeze would only last for a few seconds, of course. But for those few seconds, I could stand on the staff in mid-air as though I was on solid ground. And I used that by summoning a dozen or so coins to each hand. Coins I had prepared over my time spent in the future waiting for the time travel spell to be ready. 

With those coins in hand, as I perched on my frozen staff, a very slight, humorless smile touched my face. Then I threw the coins out in every direction, scattering them through the air while blurting the command word. 

That swarm of Fossor’s minions kept coming, even as the coins were flung into their midsts. Then the spells activated, and the coins exploded into several clouds of blue-green mist. Every ghost or zombie that was touched by the mist immediately turned on one another. Which made others around them, those not affected by the clouds, turn back to defend themselves or be dragged to the ground. No longer were they a coherent army sent to attack us. Thanks to my frenzy-undead spells (learned courtesy of Petan himself, actually), huge portions were stuck blindly fighting each other.

By that point, the item-freeze had ended, and I grabbed my staff while it fell. A quick burst sent me flying forward and to the ground, where I landed on both feet in an open space that had been created by the frenzy spells. 

Mom was still dealing with the giant snake. Fossor was moving to the altar. More of his minions who hadn’t been either affected by the frenzy spells or attacked by those who had been were closing in on me. I’d dealt with a large portion of his army with that little trick (one I’d deliberately been saving until Fossor actually committed himself to using more of his forces), but not nearly enough. There were still dozens, even hundreds in the way, coming for me. Coming to stop me from getting to their master. 

But it wasn’t enough. Not this time. I wasn’t going to let anything, not even a literal army, stop me from getting to that son of a bitch. Focusing, I took off, running straight toward Fossor, which put me on a collision course with the largest concentration of the undead creatures. 

I couldn’t control all of Fossor’s minions. I wasn’t that strong or skilled yet. Fossor was far better than I was at Necromancy. At most, I could control a few at a time, even after all the practice I’d had recently. 

But here was the thing. I didn’t need to control all of them. I only had to control the ones directly in front of me, the ones close enough to actually touch me. Because only those few were a real threat. Only those few, the ones near enough to reach out and scratch, claw, or bite me were the ones I needed to worry about. And those were the ones I took control of. With effort that manifested itself into a literal scream tearing its way out of my throat, I shoved my will into the handful of ghosts and zombies that were directly in my way. The four nearest pivoted, throwing themselves into those behind them to form physical blockades. 

Dashing through the opening that created, I instantly released my hold on those four, shifting it over to the next small handful. Two ghosts and three zombies all turned on their companions, freeing up another small bit of space for me to move through, even as I shifted my control yet again. 

I made my way through Fossor’s army like that. Yeah, I couldn’t come close to matching his power or skill, even while he was distracted. But there was only so much space around me, so all I had to do was control the ones right there for the few seconds while passing through the area. It didn’t deal with the problem entirely, but that was a lost cause anyway. The problem was Fossor, not his minions. He was the one I had to get to. 

Between using my own Necromancy to briefly control very specific figures, my ghost-fire enchanted weapon to cut through others, and a few strategic boost from my staff, I made my way quickly through the army that was trying to cut me off. Fossor. I had to get to him. That was all that mattered. Nothing else. All I had to do was stop him from getting to that altar. 

He could have made it. Even with everything I’d done, all the practice I’d had, he could have gotten there if it wasn’t for one thing: my mother. It was obvious that, while he’d dumped an army in front of me and left them on their own, my mom was a different story. She’d already dealt with that giant ghost snake, but Fossor kept sending more and more things at her with each step he made toward his actual destination. Burning metal spikes tore themselves up out of the ground. A dark, acidic fog that dissolved anything it touched. Skeletal creatures with a few scraps of rotted flesh hanging from their bones. Balls of greenish-white flames. Anything and everything he could summon was being thrown at my mother just to keep her busy, just to keep her away from him while he took those last few steps toward his destination. He wasn’t worried about me. He was worried about her, and it showed in how much focus and effort he was putting toward occupying her. The power, the spells, the sheer force of everything he was dumping into that one small spot where my mother stood was staggering. 

And yet, Mom met everything. She shattered his attacks, broke them apart like waves crashing against a boulder. Her powers, her skill, her magic, all of it matched what he was sending at her. He was so much older, so much stronger, but he couldn’t break her. Not as distracted as he was. His attention was torn between trying to get to that altar and keeping her busy. All while he simply ignored me, trusting the army he’d tossed my way to be enough. 

It was a mistake I would be glad to make him pay for. 

With a violent, inarticulate scream, I tore my way through the last of the ghosts in my way, the blade of my staff cutting through the glowing figure. The ghost disintegrated, leaving a clear, open space between us. Between Fossor and me. 

Four steps. He was four steps from the altar. My hand thrust out, creating a portal even as I triggered the boost from my staff and gripped the small bit of wood that was installed near the middle. A piece of wood that allowed me to possess it, disappearing into my own staff while the boost I had triggered sent it flying through the portal I’d created. 

I came out through the portal directly in front of Fossor, emerging from my staff immediately and catching it in one hand while glaring at him as I stood in his way. “No.” My voice was flat. I didn’t threaten him. I didn’t make some kind of cutting remark or give a witty comment. That single word was all I could force out through the thick lump that had formed in my throat. 

A cloud of ashes swirled around Fossor, pulled from that canteen before they settled in front of his feet as he took one more step to put himself closer. In the same motion, he lashed out as though to backhand me despite the fact that he wasn’t quite close enough. Still, my staff snapped up to block it. 

But he wasn’t trying to hit me with his hand. Instead, in response to his gesture, a giant skeletal version, almost as large as my entire body, tore itself out the ground and slammed into me with so much force I was sent staggering backward. He immediately followed that up by summoning two more smaller hands to grab my ankles, but I stopped one by throwing my own will against it, forcing the hand to freeze. The other I cut off with a quick slash of my staff. 

Fossor was there, right in front of me. His fist lashed out, and I ducked, my staff snapping up to drive the blade into the side of his wrist. I might as well have been hitting a mountain for all the good it did. His arm didn’t even move. The blade of my staff did nothing to him, any damage it might have been capable of simply and casually passed off to any of the billions of hostages he had. 

The Necromancer, clearly angry by that point, followed up with three more snake-quick strikes. I blocked one, twisted around the second, but the third caught me. He was so fast. Loathe as he obviously was to actually physically involve himself in a confrontation, he was still so fucking fast. And strong. That single blow, a contemptuous backhanded strike, knocked me to the ground. It was a momentary opening, but one that Fossor took advantage of, foot snapping out with deceptive casualness to kick me in the face. It was like being hit by a train. I was thrown to my back, dazed and barely conscious through those brief, crucial seconds. 

Standing over me, Fossor moved to finish up by summoning some kind of ghostly spear, sending it down at my chest with a quick, dismissive gesture. 

But I wasn’t alone. In that instant, the very moment that I was in real danger, Mom was there. She appeared, glowing blade lashing out to cut through the ghostly spear and knock it aside. Instantly, she followed up by summoning a ball of flame, sending it into Fossor’s face. 

It did nothing. He passed off the damage, snarling in annoyance before launching himself at my mother. Not just the man by himself. He summoned more arms, more flames, more blades, all of it filling the air with two intentions: to kill me and to kill my mother. 

If I had been by myself, I would have been dead. But I wasn’t. Mom protected me. With every motion, every snap of her sword, every flick of her finger, she stopped another attack, broke another of Fossor’s summoned blades, or disintegrated another of his ghosts. 

Through that, I somehow forced myself to my feet, intercepting a couple of those attacks myself. And beside me, Rahanvael appeared. She couldn’t do much, but, being a ghost, she could catch some of the intangible spears and blades that were sent at us. She was one more thing to take some of the attacks. 

Between us, between Rahanvael and myself, we managed to give Mom an opening here and there to actually counter-attack. She didn’t have to put everything she had toward saving us. She had a few moments to lash out with attacks of her own. Attacks that would have killed him. Again and again, my mother could have put that fucker in the ground. Her blade cut through his throat, tore into his stomach, her fire engulfed him. But nothing stuck. Nothing could stick. He passed all of it off to his hostages. No matter what we did, no matter how many times Mom fucking killed him, it never mattered. 

Finally, glowing ghost-like bars appeared, rising around Fossor to cut us off from him. I could see the effort on his face, could see that we’d had an effect, no matter what he may have wanted us to think. He was angry. But more than that, he was winded. Everything we’d done, it mattered. He couldn’t dismiss us, couldn’t just knock us aside like weeds. 

“You,” the bastard snarled, “cannot stop me. You will fail. You will fall. Your bodies will be buried here, alone and forgotten. Y–” 

And then a shovel slammed through those summoned bars, shattering them like crystal before crashing into Fossor’s face to send him flying backward from the sheer force of the blow. The evil fuck crashed onto the ground a good couple hundred feet back, just as one of his ghosts disintegrated itself under him so his body wouldn’t hit the dirt without the protective ashes. 

“Not alone,” Gabriel Prosser informed him, straightening to stand beside my mother. “And never forgotten.” 

Nor was he alone. All around us, throughout the quarry, more figures appeared. Sariel, Apollo, Dare, Gwen, Nevada, Kohaku, Carfried, Hisao, Asenath, Seller, Twister, Brom Bones, Mercury, and more appeared. Mateo and his werewolves were here, including Pace and Roxa. May and April were here. Misty and her brother Duncan appeared. Enguerrand, Larissa, and Haiden too. My brother, Wyatt, appeared with Koren beside him. Avalon and Shiori, standing together with Aylen, Miranda, Columbus, Sands and Sarah. Sean was there too, in his still-confusingly older form right alongside his brother Ian.

“No…” Fossor snarled, his eyes darting around to find himself surrounded as he picked himself up. “No, this is–no, you cannot be here! The beacons have not yet broken through the shielding! You cannot have been summoned, you cannot be here!” 

“We had a little help finding the place,” Apollo casually informed him. And with those words, more figures appeared. Ghosts, but ones who had not been summoned by Fossor. 

They were the ghosts I had freed, the ones I’d given the same power as Rahanvael by cutting them away from Fossor’s control. I saw Ahmose at their head, his eyes blazing with fiery hatred for the man who had destroyed and enslaved him for so long. 

“It ends,” the ghost informed his former master, his words echoed by the rest of the ghosts who had accompanied him to this final confrontation. The ghosts who, instead of running and hiding from the monster who had done so much to them, had found my friends, my allies, and brought them here to stop him once and for all. 

A hand touched my arm. My gaze turned, and I saw her. My little sister. Tabbris stood there, tears filling her eyes as she stared at me. “You’re okay,” she whispered, voice so soft it seemed as though she was afraid I would shatter. 

“I’m okay,” I confirmed. Then I extended my hand to her. “You ready for this?” 

Her tears melted away, expression hardening into determination, as she met my hand with her own. “Ready.” 

Then she disappeared, possessing me once more. Back where she belonged. Back with me. 

Now it was time. Either we would stop Fossor here and now. Or we would die, and the Earth would be his forever. 

As one, the army that had arrived to end Fossor once and for all fell in on him. 

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Causality And Casualty 5-08 (Heretical Edge 2)

Previous Chapter                                Next Chapter

The death of Kwur’s special tree had an immediate effect. Or rather, a lot of immediate effects. First, the branches and roots that had been pinning me to the wall dissolved into ash, letting me stumble a bit before catching myself. Turning quickly to look back the way I had come, I saw all the plants throughout the subway tunnel falling apart into more clumps of ash that faded into nothing after a few seconds. I wasn’t sure… why exactly, but it clearly had something to do with Kwur’s connection to the plants. We’d killed the largest concentration of his consciousness here in Vegas, and what was left wasn’t able to maintain the jungle he’d created. I hoped the fact that all of this was dissolving meant that the plant back in Gehenna was his only body now. 

Okay, I didn’t really believe the universe was that lucky. But I could at least hope that any other bodies he had were well away from Earth and too weak to pose much of a threat for awhile. 

But I still had to check on the others. We assumed that killing this part of Kwur would free those he had put under his control (that’s what Prelate had told us anyway), but I had to be sure. With a grunt, I pushed myself that way, starting to run toward the opening when I felt Tabbris’s presence as the girl did a partial recall to me, just enough to communicate. Which she did, by blurting an excited, We did it! We broke the evil Plant Man! Did you see the way he exploded?!  

Her excitement was contagious. Or maybe I was just really giddy after that whole thing. My head bobbed with an easy smile, as I passed through the subway platform and looked around at all the plants disintegrating into ash. I definitely saw, I replied. That was a really good shot, Ace. 

December did it too! She informed me. We pushed the button together! After Larees made sure the targeting was right. And then the stupid evil plant guy went fwooom! I could hear the grin in her voice. He was so surprised! 

By that point, I could see Columbus and Bobbi greeting Miranda, Sands, Sarah, Shiori, and Asenath as they emerged from the other tunnel. At first, my heart sank a little bit, a heavy stone of worry sinking into my stomach briefly. But then I saw Jiao. She was behind them, helping that Julius Harn guy walk. He looked a little roughed up, but not too bad considering the situation I’d left all of them in. Scattered around the platform were a bunch of injured and unconscious figures, or people just sitting there looking confused about the whole situation.

Bobbi raced quickly to Asenath, hugging the vampire. I heard her say something about how great it was that they’d found Jiao. Columbus, meanwhile, took his turn to embrace Shiori, the two adopted siblings holding each other for a moment. 

“Flick!” Shiori blurted, racing toward me after being released by her brother. I caught her, and we embraced tightly while the other girl murmured against my ear, “You did it. You did it, you killed him, you freed my mom.” There were tears in her voice as she clung tightly to me. I could feel the incredible stress and tension she’d been holding in throughout the time that her mother had been missing (and especially once we’d found her here under Kwur’s control) melting away as she shuddered emotionally. 

Holding the other girl close, I murmured reassuring words while silently telling Tabbris that I would see her soon and that she should get back to December, Larees, and the others on the ship. We would all be meeting up together to go over what had happened, and to see that the Gehenna people knew exactly what the situation with the bit of Kwur that had been out here was. And to make sure the whole thing was really over. Which… come to think of it… 

“Hey, what about that Azlee Ren guy?” I suddenly blurted, frowning as Shiori and I released each other to look to the rest of the group down here. “He’s the one who basically started this whole thing. So where is he?” My gaze found Julius Harn, who was already looking at me. He seemed really tired, barely able to stand. His heavy, beachball-like body was slumped over, using the wall to keep himself up rather than leaning against Jiao any more. “What’s going on?” 

The man breathed hard a couple times, inhaling and exhaling in slightly shuddering gasps before he managed to speak. “Never… saw a man called… Azlee. He wasn’t… down here.” 

Okay, that definitely didn’t make any sense. We knew for a fact that Azlee Ren was the guy who was behind this. Or rather, the Gehenna prison guard who had been Azlee Ren and was probably being controlled by Kwur. Why wouldn’t this Harn guy know anything about him? Something was wrong, but I couldn’t figure out what it could possibly be. There was just… something off. If Azlee wasn’t down here, if Harn had never seen him, what… what? 

“Maybe his memory was changed,” Sarah offered with a helpless shrug. “Like Vanessa’s.” She was leaning on her rifle, breathing almost as hard as Harn was. Now that I looked around a bit, I could see that everyone looked pretty worn out. They were barely able to keep standing, for the most part. Whatever had happened while I was gone, it looked like it hadn’t been restful, to say the least. They’d been to hell and back just fighting to keep Jiao and Harn from doing anything they wouldn’t be able to take back. It could’ve been really, unbelievably bad. The thought of Jiao coming back to herself after killing either of her daughters, or anything like… no. No, I wasn’t going to think about that. We beat Kwur, and none of us died. We won. 

Even if the pressing worry about just where the hell Azlee was kept burning like a match at the back of my mind. 

Before anyone else could say anything to Sarah’s suggestion, we heard more people approaching. Turning, we all saw Sariel, Haiden, Vanessa, and Tristan coming our way. They looked as worn out as the rest of us, but otherwise unharmed. 

Seeing Harn, Vanessa stopped short, staring at him. He, in turn, looked back to her, offering a slight, tired smile. “I wouldn’t… wish the circumstances on anyone,” he managed a bit weakly, “but it is still good to see you again, Miss Moon.” 

While Vanessa shook her head and stared at him helplessly, Sariel stepped in. “You do know my daughter then? You remember helping her? You remember her introducing you to Dakota?”

The man frowned in confusion. His eyes glanced from Sariel to Vanessa and back again, looking uncertain. “I… well, yes, of course I remember that. I worked with Vane–wait, are you… You’re her mother, aren’t you? And you–” He seemed to notice Haiden and Tristan for the first time, a delighted smile crossing his face. “Vanessa! You got your family back! That’s wonderful!” 

“I…” Vanessa bit her lip, wincing a little as she admitted, “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t remember you. I should, but apparently somebody… somebody altered my memory. They took you and Dakota out.” 

It looked like Harn was going to say something to that, but Haiden spoke up first. “We should really talk about this somewhere else. I don’t feel comfortable down here in Kwur’s tunnels, even if he is dead.” Offering a shrug, he added, “This place gives me the creeps.”   

He definitely had a point. I didn’t feel like staying down here any longer than we had to either. So, we started out of the tunnels. It was a lot different down here without all the plants, that was for sure. I could see a group of the previously mind-controlled people standing in a clump, with that ogre-like Luiena woman from the Oni and Eldridge from the Akharu talking to them.

As we approached, Eldridge excused himself and came trotting over. “Well, hey there!” He was grinning, clearly in a good mood. “Looks like calling in some help from the Heretic Rebellion was the right move after all.” His expression sombered just a little bit then, as he added, “Seriously, thanks, guys. Thank you so much. It looks like we’ll be able to wrap things up here without everything falling into open war after all.” 

“What about the rest of the missing kids who were taken with Jiao?” I asked. “And the princess, umm… Rowan, what about her?” 

Haiden answered, “Dare, Triss, Felix, and I found them. We… dealt with the people they had guarding them. They’re with the kids now, so it’s okay.” 

Eldridge nodded easily. “That’s right, and our people are already there too. The princess and her friends are safe, it seems everyone here has made it relatively intact. This was a success.” 

“But we still don’t know where that Azlee guy is,” Miranda pointed out. 

“And something tells me that’s gonna bite us in the ass at some point.” 

*******

Rowan was a cute kid. Half-Akharu and half-Vestil, she took more after the former, having a full physical body instead of the gas form. But apparently that was only the outside. Inside her body was primarily made of that gas cloud rather than any organs. Instead of having regular eyes, the space where they should be was filled with that rapidly color-changing gas. She was half and half, an exterior humanoid (or Akharu) body with a mostly energy/liquid/gas-like interior. 

In any case, the biggest point was that she was safe. And talkative. She and her friends who had also been rescued chatted up a storm with everyone who would indulge them. Which included Tabbris and December, of course. The other two came down from the ship to meet up with everyone, and we all reunited at the Vestil casino to exchange explanations and stories. 

Barnyard the troll, Pars the werewolf, and the rest of that group were there too. I made sure they were allowed to show up so we could thank them for helping to take care of our bodies as much as they had before our positions were swapped with our Theriangelos. From what I’d seen, they had done a lot of fighting to keep more of Kwur’s forces off of us when they could have walked away. We owed them for sticking it out at the risk of their lives, even if Pars insisted they were only making up for attacking us in the first place. He was a pretty cool guy, and so was Barny. I made sure to tell Pars he should look up Mateo’s pack if he had a chance, and that Barnyard might like to see Buddy System in Wonderland. 

We also got to see the parents of the missing kids meet up with them, including Rowan’s. There were a lot of tears, hugs, and overall joyful reunions. It was actually really nice to watch, even if I didn’t know these kids at all. I was glad we’d been able to save them. Or rather, that Dare, Haiden, and the cat-girls had, come to think of it like that. 

Anyway, the point was that it was really good to see these kids actually reunited with their families after everything that had happened to them. They had to all be checked for influence by Kwur, of course. But they came up clean. They were fine, and they were back with their parents. 

Then things got even better, as we stood in one of the private lounge areas of the casino watching all of this go on. Better, in this case, because one of the nearby doors opened and Avalon entered, accompanied by Sean, Theia, and Roxa. The latter two went to greet some of the others, but Sean and Avalon came to where I was standing with Shiori, Columbus, Asenath, and Jiao. 

Sean got to me first, and we embraced. “Hey, big guy,” I murmured. And big he was. It was still so strange to see Sean as a man in his twenties, after we’d… after we’d failed to rescue him for so long. He’d spent what to him was years in that prison. I honestly had no idea how he was holding up, aside from the fact that he spent a lot of time with his uncle, brother, and Roxa. I’d heard that he mostly coped by keeping himself busy, and that he did a lot of camping outside, under the stars. And yeah, I definitely couldn’t blame him for that last part. Apparently he hated being cooped up inside, hated staying in one place for very long at all, actually. He had a thing about never sleeping in the same place more than a couple times in a row if he could help it. Which, I supposed, made him pretty well-suited to traveling with a pack of werewolves who weren’t staying in the same place longer than a day or two if they could help it. 

“Hey yourself, Flickster,” Sean murmured, releasing me from the hug. “You’ve been busy. Out blowing up trees with ship-mounted cannons, huh?” 

“Eh,” I replied, “that tree had it coming.” 

It was Avalon’s turn then, and I quickly latched on, hugging the other girl as tightly as I could. Feeling her there, holding her after everything that had happened… it really affected me. I might’ve held on longer than strictly necessary, but it didn’t seem like she was objecting very much. The two of us clung to each other, before I leaned back and smiled. A joke of some kind found its way to my lips, but Avalon’s were there before I could say it. She kissed me, and I whimpered a little. Wow, yeah, it really did affect me. For a moment, I lost myself in that kiss. 

Eventually, we pulled back, and I took a moment to catch my breath before managing to focus on the smirking girl in front of me. I felt a bit giddy. And other things beyond giddy. “Umm… hi.” Coughing as the blush stretched across my face at the look she gave me, I managed a weak, “I guess you finished the errand you were on? How did umm…” I coughed again. “How’d that go?” 

“It’s finished,” she informed me, actually smiling genuinely. It was the smile of accomplishment, of finally finishing the project that her ancestor had worked on so hard. “Close enough, anyway,” she amended. “Dries and the others are putting the last touches on it. The spell should be ready to go within the day. We found what we needed.” 

Grinning, I hugged her again. “That’s great! See, we’ve both been busy little beavers lately.” 

“Yeah,” Shiori put in. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m ready to go back to boring old normal classes for a little bit.” Pausing, she amended, “Okay, our classes are never actually boring. But still. You know what I mean.” 

I nodded. “I definitely know what you mean. Believe me, we’re all ready for a good long break. But for now, hey, let’s just enjoy the celebration. The Gehenna people should be here any minute to give us a quick debriefing about the current Kwur situation.” As I said it, I gave Deveron a little wave over where he was talking to one of the Vegas people. 

“What about Azlee?” Columbus put in. He and Sean had been having their own little reunion. “We still don’t know where he is.” 

I started to say that that was going to be a job for the Gehenna people to track down their missing guy. We’d done our part. But before I could get it out, Dare approached with a simple, “They’ve found him.” 

“What?” I blinked that way. “They found Azlee Ren?” 

She gave a short nod. “Yes. Well, it turns out Larees did. She was determined to finish the job, given her… connection to Gehenna. She tracked him down in a motel on the edge of the strip. She’s bringing him back now, and the Gehenna people are on their way to pick him up.” 

Sure enough, it wasn’t long from then before Larees came in, accompanied by a figure who looked pretty similar to Prelate, actually. He had the same reptilian blue skin, vertically-pupiled yellow eyes, and so on. This had to be Azlee Ren. 

And… there was something… almost familiar about him? At first I thought it was just because he looked somewhat similar to Prelate. But that wasn’t it. The more I looked at him, as Larees led his shackled form across the room toward us, the more something niggled at the back of my mind. Wait… wait a minute…

Without really knowing what I was doing, I moved away from the others and stepped that way. They followed, and I heard Shiori ask if I was okay. But I didn’t answer. Instead, I held my hand out and said, “Stop.” 

Azlee stopped. He stood there, staring at me. Larees stopped too, looking from him to me. Her mouth opened, but I spoke again. “Sit down.” 

Azlee sat down. 

“Flick?” Shiori asked from nearby. “What… what are you… how are you doing that? Wait, are you controlling him? Because you could only do that if–” 

Spinning on my heel, my mouth opened as I blurted, “He’s a zom–” 

That was as far as I got, before Azlee exploded. His entire body blew apart in a blast of white light. I caught a glimpse of Dare in mid-leap, my name on her lips. Avalon and Shiori were there too, just behind her. Everything seemed frozen, as that white energy sought out me specifically. I felt the heat from it envelop my body, covering me from head to toe. It stung a little bit, just this side of being painful. Then I felt it cover me. I felt my body being yanked backward. I saw Dare, Shiori, Avalon, and all of the others grow smaller, their forms fainter as I was dragged from them. The world spun. My stomach heaved. Everything was upside down and inside out. 

A stone floor came up and smacked me, almost knocking the wind from my body as I fell with a yelp. Groaning, I lifted my head and looked around. I was… I was in a room I’d never seen before, a stone room covered in still-glowing runic symbols and devoid of any furniture or decorations. It was mostly dark, save for the small pool of light that I was lying in and the faint glow from the spellwork. 

Then I saw the figure who stood nearby, watching me. I saw the flickering light illuminate his slow, satisfied, triumphant smile. 

Fossor.

Previous Chapter                                Next Chapter