The wind howled past Rachel’s ears, skirt whipping against her legs; she stood in the middle of the street as the dying typhoon expelled its final breath of fury above. Her thumping heart mirrored the weather while watching the Lion King’s muscular back.
He backed down? Why is he walking away?
Everything she’d planned and tried to predict was collapsing around Rachel, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing; although, it did confuse her.
Head tilting to the left slightly, Rachel’s eyebrows drew in, listening to every twitch Nemesis’ body made. He’s not scared of me … If anything, he seems as bewildered by his actions as I am. Are the layers of hexes weighing him down or changing his emotional state? Relica used some Taunt Skill against me in Miami … Is this similar?
It didn’t really matter in the end, but she really wanted to test his strength out. Nemesis didn’t appear to have any ulterior motives; he’d come to see what she was about, and all logic pointed to them exchanging fists, yet here she was, watching him walk away.
“Hmm…” Her thoughts turned elsewhere, looking for any other answer to the behavior; naturally, Relica was the first suspect.
The Sorceress was currently in a conference with Alan Piedrabuena; the northeastern warlord that hid inside his walls was a puppet master—a troublesome opponent, but, in theory, it made him personally not all that hard to deal with. Her only concern was the hostage situation that was bound to occur.
Still, there was no negotiating with such people if she’d learned anything from pop culture and movies. As soon as someone was willing to use that method against you, they’d practically already pulled the trigger.
Her best option was to handle him before there was a chance to play that card. Of course, that didn’t mean he didn’t have safeguards in place to counter that strategy. It was for this reason she’d sent Maria out to investigate Noah’s population with Fiona and the twin pistol girls and draw even more attention while having someone that could speak the language; Maria got annoyed with Cuban Spanish at times, and the twins could correct any misunderstandings.
Grace and Scarlet were in the shadows, using the Vampire girl’s blood to protect them from the storm and Benedict to keep them concealed.
The Pixie, and his two friends were still recovering from the mental trauma of knowing what happened to their family, but they wanted to forget about it in the mission. So long as they weren’t alone and had competent enough people to support them if they froze up, Rachel wasn’t opposed.
She’d kept occasional tabs on their movements, and Maria confirmed several of Rachel’s suspicions. Things should go in their favor, but there was an unease in her stomach; misfortune continued to bounce around like a ping-pong ball for and against her.
Selvaria and Ohan were beside the docks and northeast wall; the swordsman missed Miss Claus, much to Selvaria’s disappointment, when he was doing a sweep of the area. The Leviathan seemed to be having a jolly time explaining to him what he’d missed and the fantastical quest the northern pair were on to stop Jack Frost from turning the world into a winter wasteland.
Leaving the two to their discussion, Rachel honed her hearing on Alan’s group; Relica and Miora were inside a large gathering room, filled with alcohol, food, and soft classical music playing in the background. Three other men were present, each having their own powers; however, one named Fulgencio seemed to be fairly drunk.
It was the drunk man’s powers that Alan was using to view the entirety of Havana as some kind of game board; it seemed to compile information and give specific statistics on each player involved.
Rachel had been especially keen on understanding what few details she could gather through the previous night on the city’s current state, but one critical detail kept biting her in the tail, the language barrier.
Relica could speak Spanish—she seemed to be able to speak many languages—which had Rachel pondering the woman’s skills. It might be possible to acquire multiple languages through the System.
Unfortunately, the moment Relica told Alan about her hearing, he’d gone silent, opting to use a notepad and pass it around to talk. If she were closer, she might have been able to trace the motion of the pen’s sounds to piece together what was being said, but she knew it was only a matter of time before her hearing was discovered and measures to counter it were taken.
What she hadn’t anticipated was Miora—Relica’s friend and the Legend of Queen Ranavalona the 1st—she needed to get a better understanding about who she was patterned after to make a proper plan moving forward. The woman was all but silent after the initial interaction between Relica and her.
Relica’s foreknowledge about their abilities and personality made even minor mistakes deadly. In addition, Alan would likely accelerate his plans with her prompts knowing the United States military was closing in. Rachel figured this was the the Sorceress’ test to draw more talented people into her expanding terrorist network.
A few bits of information regarding Wolfgang became clear as the day went on; he’d managed to bargain his way into getting a boat by giving Relica what she wanted. A few of Alan’s men weren’t happy about the loss of good transportation.
Relica made it clear they could go after it if they so choose; as could be expected, and, much to the Sorceress’ amusement, the pair never returned after going after the intelligent German Legendkin.
Fingers flexing around Nia’s practically invulnerable umbrella, Rachel turned and walked through the storm to meet Luka and Vasishtha; she’d sent the two to the young man’s residence to play a recording of his sister’s wedding. She needed a good sample to pinpoint her location by voice, and for some reason, they needed him.
Rachel’s teeth locked together, eyes drifting to the left as she spotted multiple eyes peering through the windows; people were still frightened, and while the hurricane had stopped most criminal activity, they still skittishly looked out for marauders, despite Noah’s protection. It was to be expected, given the experiences they’d had in the anarchy following The Oscillation.
She had her own concerns, which laid at Relica’s unpredictable goals; at least there was one thing Rachel could expect from the woman, even if it turned her stomach—her fascination and unhealthy attachment to Scarlet.
It was bad enough before Twilight touched the Sorceress’ mind, and while that meant the woman wouldn’t let anything happen to their little vamp girl, it also made her a target by the dangerous terrorist. At the same time, Relica’s unnatural obsession made her approach unpredictable, and sending Scarlet in without more information could lead to her capture.
Rachel learned a great deal over the past month about her damaged foster sister, and the most pointed weakness the powerful Vespertine Reaper had was her own mother; the girl was traumatized by her mother’s true colors, which Rachel could sympathize with—she didn’t know what she’d do if her own mother had hidden such a side from her.
To make matters worse, Rachel didn’t have that good of a grasp of Adele’s voice to gauge if she was in the city, nor the real purpose for her distance and Relica’s connection to the insane woman. The last thing Rachel wanted was Scarlet utterly shutting down and leaving herself open at a surprise visit; as much as the girl would deny it, Rachel was sure Scarlet wouldn’t be able to harm or run from her mother.
There were also the unknown elements about Adele’s possible powers from The Oscillation; it wasn’t impossible that the intense fanaticism of her cult had led to drawing Twilight into the woman’s daughter. Twilight may not even be a real entity but the creation of Adele’s. Even if Rachel heavily doubted the reflected thing she met was simply Adele’s crazed imagination brought to life, there was the chance.
Rachel’s attention returned to Relica as giggles came from her throat from time to time during their written conversation. Her friend’s satisfied hum after a second of studying the message made Rachel’s ear twitch; the note seemed off-putting for the dark-skinned woman.
There were quite a few issues that plagued this city under the surface, and most of it stemmed from Alan’s manipulations as a puppet master. It corroborated what Luka had said about the military being operated by an unknown force, but it caused Rachel to wonder why they weren’t being more cautious with that knowledge.
She slowed as Relica’s body vanished in dark magical wind, flowing out to find its way through the building and join the storm; not only was the body in the bar a double but the one with Alan, too. Her path was clear upon passing over the wall—she was going to the northwestern warlord.
Relica’s welcoming tone combined with her magic to meet the large Cuban man as he drank a cup full of deadly poison. “Hola, Salvador Gómez Gomis.”
Rachel’s lips drew in; she was sure the Sorceress was going to speak in Spanish just to annoy her, and it wasn’t the first time her agitation on the subject made her fist tighten.
Ever since coming to Cuba, the realization had been a thorn in her side, and it only dug its way further into her skin by the day; she may be able to hear miles away and eavesdrop to her leisure, but that meant little if she couldn’t actually understand them.
Making the decision, Rachel used some of her unknown number of Skill Points gathered from the previous days into a translation ability; at some point, it would probably be worth investing into further for other creatures.
Her experience with the orange aliens taught her that communication was necessary at times when dealing with the Crystals, and in the end, they could gain far more out of being a bit civil with the rival worlds than purely antagonistic, but that would come much later.
A few possibilities on the topic had passed through her brain over the mind-numbing hours of being forced to listen to basically gibberish. One such thought stuck out; what if a group of languages or a bundle was overall less expensive than a single one?
Ticking them off as she went could actually be quite detrimental and costly overall; she wouldn’t know the results without testing, but that also risked hampering future investments.
Rachel sighed and used her first attempt to go for the bundle package; if she didn’t have enough, it wouldn’t fulfill the request, which told her something at least. Allow me to understand whatever human language I am listening to and for them to understand me.
Relica and Salvador’s words changed to English—her most practiced tongue—and she was glad she had, even if she wasn’t entirely happy about the use; it was necessary for the future, and it gave her a way to catch people off-guard.
Salvador’s voice was more profound than most men’s and held a gravelly tone to it. “I’m not interested in your games, Relica; the last time I gave you some of my men, they ended up traumatized by the things your friend had them do … Even things I’d find disturbing, from what they told me.”
“Oh, come now, Salvador!” Relica cooed, walking around to examine the room they were in. “Doesn’t that only mean they weren’t worthy of your attention in the first place? I know you’ve been having your little pets running around and bringing you more and more people to level up your skills; the men you speak of are already fodder for your strength.”
A pleasantly occupied note entered his voice. “You do have a rather observant eye, Relica; I’ll give you that … If they aren’t useful to me, then Experience is always an option.”
“Mmh—by the way,” Relica muttered, looking out of a nearby window at the gruesome sight of some multi-headed serpent eating a crowd of terrified elderly men and women Salvador deemed unproductive, “how is your pet? It seems you are feeding him well.”
Salvador got off his makeshift throne and podium to join her by the window; by the elevation of his voice to hers, Rachel guessed he was around seven-foot-tall. “Let’s cut to the chase … You only ever come to ask for something.”
“Don’t act as if you don’t get anything in return,” the Sorceress mused, her smiling tone sharpening. “I’ve made you a powerful man, Salvador, and we both know I can take that away—I made you—don’t forget you were on the verge of death when I found you. A lowly Champion-Fighter without a clue how your ability could be utilized.”
A low rumble shook in Salvador’s throat, no longer entertained. “What do you want?”
“There we go; can’t we be civil with one another!” Relica giggled, playfully slapping his arm and moving to take his place on the throne. “I’m rather fond of you—mmh, as my little experiments go, I’d say. So, how are the preparations?”
Rachel’s tail shifted with agitation as the rain increased, forcing her to adjust her filter; never had her ears been pushed so hard as in Havana. The constant drizzle, number of buildings, thunder, and heavy winds were challenging to filter out, given its current level, diminishing her sensitive range significantly.
Unluckily, or perhaps on purpose, Nemesis went into the depths of the colossal stadium. Between the tens of thousands of people that had taken shelter in the facility talking and the amount of steel and concrete absorbing sound, he was blotted out.
She centered her full attention on the Sorceress to catch the finer details the man gave. “Everyone’s ready … You still haven’t selected which target we’re going after first, though.”
Relica hummed, tapping her cheek. “Oh, my pesky little Hare … I have no doubt you’re listening to every word.”
“What?” Salvador muttered, turning to face her.
“Nothing,” she waved off, making Rachel’s fingernails dig into her palm. “Fetch me a pen and paper.”
“I don’t need a reminder,” Salvador growled but moved to a nearby desk anyway. “You promised to put me on top if I did what you said—why do I feel like you’re playing Alan’s side more than mine—when can I crush his scrawny neck?”
“He-he-he, patience, Dear—patience … Who are the biggest threats—hmm? Answer me that.”
He pulled out a sheet of paper and tested a few pens before bringing them to the Sorceress like her pet dog. “Noah and the Lion King; all Alan does is hide behind his wall and use his puppets like a coward.”
“I’d be careful of cowards,” Relica snickered, writing down a few instructions. “There’s nothing they won’t do to save their own skin … So, I need these things done—immediately—and do not worry that bald head of yours; you will have your moment of glory. The stage is almost set, and let me reiterate our agreement…”
Rachel could practically feel the shiver run down Salvador’s spine at her cold words. “I did not promise to put you on top … I said you had a shot at the crown if you followed all of my instructions, which you have, and I am so delighted at the progress you’ve made—but do not underestimate the opponents you will meet.”
Salvador sucked on his lip, turning back to the window. “I won’t … Are we moving tomorrow?”
“Silly man,” Relica laughed, rising to reach up, even on the pedestal, and put her fingers against his cheeks; naturally, Rachel figured he was paralyzed by the woman. “Everything happens tonight! I need to see exactly how far you’ve come, Rachel … Salvador, be careful of the pretty bunny girl prowling the streets—she has a rather obscene amount of good luck—or should I say misfortune follows her enemies,” she pondered.
He cleared his throat as she moved past him. “Rachel … a Beastkin?”
“A Myth, Dear—one that has surprised me every day—and I suspect she is far, far more than I initially planned. So, we need to try and even the odds. Don’t disappoint me, Salvador; you’re nearing your crown.”
She vanished, returning to Alan’s study to join Miora, her overjoyed voice breaking the silence. “What did I miss?”
A low growl shook Alan’s throat, and the drunken man chuckled. “Oh, yeah—uh, he really doesn’t like it when you just disappear—hicc—I love the you in the whoosh!”
“Shut up,” Alan grunted, tapping his pen against the notebook.
“Hicc—oh—oh, yeah—shhhh … Why do you look so—hicc—green…”
He seemed to pass out, making Alan curse; she assumed the board vanished in front of the man because one of his other men quickly began to administer some kind of healing magic to sober him up and bring him back.
Rachel sighed while turning down an alley that would take her to Luka and Vasishtha; the rainwater was a bit deeper in this area, rushing by her flaming boots—Nia being asleep gave her a surprising amount of personal control over the outfit—clearly, Nia was holding back a little for some reason.
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The pair were fumbling around in Luka’s apartment, trying to find an outlet that worked; apparently, some were blown. By the time she made it to the stairs, they’d found the wedding video and put it on, revealing his sister’s voice.
“Yeah—umm, this was about two years ago—is that fine?” Luka asked, looking at the Legend beside him.
Vasishtha shrugged. “I don’t know how Rachel’s ears work. Eh … I’m pretty sure she’s nearby, though. Just keep playing it—umm, you got some beer in the—bro, woah…” he grunted, waving his hand in front of his face upon opening the fridge. “When was the last time you checked this thing?”
Luka was focused on the recording of a happier time. “Umm … Yeah, I don’t have anything in there … Hey, Vasishtha…”
“Mmh?” he asked, looking at the cupboards. “Man, I’m starved…”
“Do you really think we can get my sister back? No one’s ever come back from the other side of the wall—powerful people.”
Vasishtha shut a cupboard, a heavy note in his throat. “Aye, buddy—I don’t know—things have been bad, and a lot of people have died … Don’t give your hopes up, or it’ll crush you to dust. If she’s okay, great! If not … find out how to get justice and move on because it’s what a loving sister would want for her brother.”
“Yeah, thanks … I guess, for not being as positive as everyone else,” he whispered. “I, umm … I thought you were a totally different kind of person.”
“Mmh … world’s rough kid … Sometimes, you gotta lose everything to realize there’s something else in you.”
Rachel stopped at the top of the apartment complex’s second landing; Christian, the current lookout for the place, eyed her from his bundled-up place against the wall a little more than halfway down the hallway. Luka had given him a rough description of her—beautiful long hair, white, glowing, and big ears.
A frown touched her full lips as she turned and brushed her braided hair to her back after the strong wind caught it; Luka’s sister was to the northwest. Her cheerful voice could be heard speaking to a small hex group she’d tracked earlier. So much for the theory that no one leaves the walls.
A solemn puff of air shot through her lips; at least Selvaria and Ohan were laughing because things were swiftly becoming complicated.
Just before reaching the door to Luka’s apartment, her heart came to a stop, ears rising straight into the air; a shiver ran down her spine as her wide eyes darted left and right, head following the movements—an ominous degree of misfortune had flooded her way—something disastrous was happening.
What changed … Which action caused it?
“Rachel!” Vasishtha laughed, jogging to the door; he’d likely sensed her a while ago, but she wasn’t versed in all of his abilities; turning the knob, he eased it open as the wind sought to shove him back. “Hey, what’s … Mmh, trouble?” he muttered, eyebrows lowering as he saw her alarmed expression.
She ignored his question, scanning the city for anything that would bring anyone she knew a disastrous result, yet nothing stood out.
Maria and her group talked to one another about Fiona’s worries involving her little sister. The twins sympathized with her, offering their two cents on how to move past the division she felt as two of Noah’s tails tried to keep hidden in the crowded mall-like area they walked to observe them.
Scarlet had an absent-minded conversation with Grace involving YouTubers she liked, looking for commonalities while watching over the Unicorn from the shadows. Benedict was enthralled by the variety of things they could access on the internet he hadn’t been aware of, coming from the restrictions in Cuba.
Ohan and Selvaria were still on the Christmas topic, and the Leviathan was wondering if her seal had gotten her candy cane to the swordsman's chagrin, wondering if the creature could have sweets.
Selvaria hadn’t thought about that possibility, making her worry a little and use the radio to ask Tom about the topic; he had no clue, but Cahira confirmed she’d met the stunning Christmas lady, drawing further conversation.
No group member seemed to be the trigger, so she turned elsewhere.
Relica was silently plotting with Alen’s group, but nothing noteworthy appeared to be in motion from them. Her creepy friend hadn’t moved at all in the time Rachel listened.
Salvador had gone into the room adjacent to his throne room, left the note Relica gave him on the table, and quit to the halls; his men saluted him like a general in his passing, to which he absently returned. He sounded focused, but nothing else sparked her interest.
Noah was in a war council with his lieutenants; their goals were to strengthen key locations where civilians could be in danger if attacked. Not quite the catastrophic feeling she’d gotten, but it was when she turned to the Lion King that her gut churned.
Nemesis was heading for the arena from what she could hear from the crowd, and Mara had just exited the underground, cheerily meeting with Ana in the halls. It was challenging to filter through the white noise, but she caught the conversation.
“I’ll be heading out, Ana! We’re going to be having a guest for a late-night party, so don’t overeat,” she teased.
Ana snorted. “A guest … Who? Is Nemesis back—did he kill those two U.S. military people?”
“Mmh, he-he, I wonder about that,” she mused in a mysterious way meant to draw the other woman in.
A tired groan slid through Ana’s throat. “It’s late—I’m tired, Mara—just skip the games. Wait … was there another assassination attempt?” she sighed, watching Beastkin carrying a few corpses pass by. “No-ho-ho … When are they ever going to stop throwing their lives away … You didn’t have to kill her,” she whispered, likely looking at the dead woman.
“They got what they dealt—anyway, I’m not all that interested in them,” Mara dismissed. “No, I’ll be going to snatch up that Hare Mythickin to see if she’ll have dinner with us! Won’t that be nice? You’ll have another woman to talk to that isn’t me!”
Ana scratched behind her ears, not responding for a moment as she thought about the words. “Okay … but why? You’re far too happy about this … Nemesis knows?”
“Of course; he’s really excited! He loved the idea! I offered to make the arrangements,” she said in a grinning tone.
“Uh-huh … Now, I’m really concerned. You never do things like that … I’ll just go ask Nemesis about it myself.”
“Aww,” Mara’s voice held a pout. “Don’t spoil anything for yourself; just wait and have a glass of wine or something—he’s got a few matches lined up anyway.”
“Whatever … I don’t like this, though,” Ana grumbled, changing directions to talk to Jaume. “Don’t make me worry about you.”
“Please,” Mara snickered, “don’t make me think you care; oh, and don’t get too drunk—you can be a handful—you’ll leave the wrong impression.”
“Speak for yourself.”
They parted ways.
Rachel continued to scan the city for anything else of significance, but nothing came. It felt like that conversation … Mara coming to see me? Is the meeting going to be the cause of a misunderstanding? Should I avoid her—she shouldn’t be able to find me—but she’s banking on me going to her.
Rachel leaned forward to the railing, Luka and Vasishtha in the doorway as the Legend kept it open. “What did she find?” Luka whispered. “Is it my sister—is it bad?”
She worked around her jaw for a second, ears pressing against the top of her umbrella. “We need to see Noah as soon as possible. Vash, the radio.” She took it and swapped to a common channel that everyone could hear.
Selvaria and Cahira quit speaking as she came over the speaker. “We have a problem—I’m not sure exactly why it is an issue, but Maria’s unit, I'm going to give you some instructions on where to go. You’ll be meeting a woman named Mara and giving her the radio so we can talk; I’m heading to Noah now.”
“That sound girl?” Maria asked, and Rachel couldn’t help but feel a wave of relief as her Spanish additions were translated. “Yo, I thought she was a dangerous one; we gettin’ into some beef?”
“No…” Rachel returned, motioning for Luka and Vasishtha to follow her, and she paused, another surge of misfortune reaching her.
Pausing, her glowing Eclypse-like irises darted to the man bundled a little ways away, and in a quick dash forward, she twisted the stunned lookout around and put him into a sleeper hold.
“Wha—yo! Yo! Stop!” Luka gasped, running forward, but Vasishtha grabbed his shoulder to pull him back.
“Aye, Rach, is he one of their puppet spies?”
Once the man fell limp in her arms, she picked him up and jogged back into Luka’s apartment; it was a little awkward to carry the scrawny guy and twist the doorknob. “I believe so—or a spy in general.”
Her wide field of vision swiftly caught sight of yarn in a basket by Luka’s bed. “We can come back with Maria later to free him of any control effects if that’s the case.”
The radio buzzed with Maria’s voice. “Hey, Lunar Hare, I’m still here—what’s the problem…”
Vasishtha took the radio from her as Rachel began tying the man up. “Just a little trouble—uh, here,” he muttered, holding the device up to her side as Luka hovered nearby.
Rachel gave her directives, and after quickly hogtying the lookout, she took them in the direction of Noah, materializing Nia’s umbrella once outside. “Don’t make any aggressive moves; there’s something important involving her soon … I just don’t know what it is.”
“Ah,” Scarlet said, jumping into the conversation. “It’s that misfortune-sensing stuff, right?”
“Yeah … Just be prepared.”
“Roger!” Grace said, nudging Scarlet. “Should we lose Maria’s tail?”
The Unicorn clicked her tongue, clearly not appreciating the joke, and Rachel heard her tail flick to the side in annoyance not too far away. “Yeah, that’d be best—Scarlet’s got us.”
Rachel’s gut churned as the feelings didn’t leave. “Don’t go right away—wait for her to come to you.”
“We’ll make it look nice and casual,” Grace giggled. “Just randomly bumping into her in the middle of a hurricane.”
“Mmh, just do what you can,” Rachel mumbled. “Tom…”
The general’s serious voice came soon after. “I’m listening.”
Trying to track both Mara and Relica’s friend, spoke up as the wind increased. “Look up Queen Ranavalona the 1st—Relica brought a Legendkin with her that we weren’t aware of.”
Clay’s voice instantly responded, making Rachel slow her pace. “No need—Queen Ranavolona the First was a tyrant—some historians say she was insane.
“She ruled over the kingdom of Madagascar in the early 1800s and killed tens of thousands of her own people in the name of isolationism. As far as I’m aware, she was a rather nasty piece of work that enjoyed watching the suffering of her own people.”
“Any clue on what her powers could be?” Rachel pressed, hearing the thunder pick back up in the following silence as Vasishtha joined her, table umbrella creaking in the heavy winds; Luka’s vision narrowed while straining to hear the explanation past the storm.
Clay hissed. “I couldn’t really say—Tom’s consulting some historians through text right now; if we get anything, we’ll let you know.”
“Thanks.”
Cutting off the conversation, Rachel handed the radio back to Vasishtha to stick in his shoulder pouch. “Let’s hurry.”
Luka struggled to push against the wind at the pace Rachel set, so Vasishtha angled his umbrella in a manner to relieve some of the pressure for the young man.
“W-What about my sister?” he shouted, seeming to forget she could hear him just fine.
Rachel breathed in and out, slowing to join the pair behind the umbrella. “... Keep moving—things aren’t playing out like I want right now,” she explained, trying to bridge the examination to his question.
“Understand that there are a lot of players in this game we’re playing, and the slightest action could spell disaster—I’m trying to read minor flows that shape that disaster to use it to our advantage. Right now, your sister is fine, but if we don’t hurry, she could be in danger … I can’t tell you why right now—you’ll need to trust me—she isn’t in danger at the moment.”
Luka hugged his blue and white jacket, looking at the spraying water at their feet. “Okay … I’ll trust you, but—but she’s alive?”
Rachel nodded. “She is, and it sounds like she’s being well-fed.”
“What about her husband?”
“That, hmm…” Rachel’s ears shifted, scanning again. “I can’t hear him, which doesn’t mean he’s not alive … Still, as Vasishtha said…”
“Yeah, I know … Don’t give my hopes up. I’m glad she’s okay, though,” he smiled, swallowing the sticky saliva in his throat. “It’s more than anyone’s been able to tell me.”
Before he could continue spilling his heart, Rachel positioned her umbrella and separated to retake the lead; they needed to make more plays to change the current course.
Three minutes later, she realized why misfortune had changed; it wasn’t mainly centered on Rachel herself but by proxy. Vasishtha and Luka jumped as Rachel’s umbrella vanished in a spray of color; she sprinted back the way they’d come, demonic boots finding perfect purchase against the poorly maintained asphalt.
Why her … No … Why didn’t I think about the possibility?!
Rain and wind gushed around her head as she tried to sustain her ability to monitor the situation; it was difficult at her pace with forced-back ears.
Mara had just left sight of the stadium, turning into an alley as she moved down a similar path Nemesis took to the bar—the woman wanted Rachel to find her.
She held her hands behind her back, humming softly and giving Rachel a clear picture of the environment by the unusual soundwaves she produced that generated a semi-malleable force field allowing everything but the strong winds and water to pass.
Rachel jumped to rooftops, cracking tiles and leaving impressions of her boots in the wood while using her hearing to test just how much pressure she could place on the structures. Just buy me time!
Maria and Scarlet’s groups were casually waiting five streets down, but she couldn’t contact them; it might even bring further misfortune to involve Scarlet.
Mara’s casual stroll came to a stop as Relica and Miora surrounded the Mythickin Siren on either side of the alley; somehow, the Sorceress had generated her own shield to combat the elements, and a man beside the Tyrant Queen held a similar table umbrella Vasishtha utilized.
“Why hello, Mara!” Relica cooed.
“Hmm…” Rachel could hear the Siren’s happy notes fall into a cautious ring as the pulsing sounds bounced around the area. “Do we know each other? Typically, my friends don’t tend to ambush me on both sides,” she whispered, voice perfectly audible while shifting to examine Miora.
The Queen’s throat reverberated with interest. “I do love this one … She has a charm about her, and that voice … is soothing to my ears. Excellent choice, Relica.”
“I can’t take all the credit,” the Sorceress chortled. “Hmm … No, Mara, I don’t believe we have met, but it is my pleasure! You have such a powerful gift, and the voice can be so captivating.”
Mara chuckled. “I appreciate the compliment, ladies, but what is your business with me? The cadence of your words and beat of your hearts tells me you’re not here to simply chat. Am I to assume you come from one of the northern territories … I haven’t seen you, though,” she mused.
Relica cleared her throat and reached into a side back to extract something and show it to the Siren. “I have a little gift for you.”
Disgruntled by the show, Mara whispered, “Interesting choice of gifts … A tongue split down the center … Is this a metaphor for something? I’m not amused … Mmhm … That barrier that surrounds you is something unusual…”
Less than a minute away, Rachel’s gut twisted as all sound died inside the alley. No! I should be able to still stop this, but … If she’s muted by a curse, then she’s basically helpless!”
Reaching the alley, she came to a stop, all noise dying as she entered the area; it was empty; skipping back to regain her bearings, she searched and found Mara’s voice, disbelief in her words.
“How … I can’t hurt you?”
“Hmm-hmm!” Relica giggled. “A Sorceress is always prepared; I have so many little trinkets! Now, you’ll conceal our movements from Rachel.”
Miora laughed. “She only obeys me, Relica.”
“Yes. Yes. Let’s get going, though—I don’t want to taunt Rachel too much—heh-he, she can have a temper, and we wouldn’t want her charging in here … or would we? Hmm-hm-hm-hm.”
Dammit…
Rachel’s ear and tail twitched as she looked into the alley, sound returning, and dropped on the dirt floor was the burned tongue Relica used to capture Mara.
Miora has some kind of puppet ability, as well … Does that mean even Alan is under her control? What is her end-game? How did she even know unless … Spies? The game board ability? Can they use both together? Mara is a direct counter to my hearing … Scarlet’s vision is my only option to track them.
Against the woman's will, a soft hum pulsed through the air, and Rachel's world spun—she hit the ground, rain collapsing atop her as she lay in the muck and grime of the alley. So long as she scanned for sound in the vicinity of Mara, she’d be paralyzed.
* * *
Something was at the edge of Anthony’s thoughts, mocking his feeble attempts to grasp knowledge just outside his reach as the entity in woman’s guise followed the staircase that parallelled the cliff.
He couldn’t deny the terror he felt in this creature’s presence, yet there was sorrow that gradually worked its way into his heart—a longing to reach something untouchable—and an endless path of wandering in darkness.
Voices and noises echoed in the mist, screaming for aid in an unseen labyrinth that trapped them, and with every step, new clarity decayed a wall blocking an inner sight he couldn’t explain—at first, it was curiosity and frustration that drove him out of the manor, but now, there was something he couldn’t understand—a treasure he’d lost just beyond the sleeping veil.
Anthony’s throat constricted as they came to a fork, and it was here the entity stopped; much of the stone encasing her had chipped off, leaving a trail behind them, and it was then he saw the uncertainty in her face.
The black smoke hiding her naked figure mixed with the gray mist enclosing them, and her frightened galaxy-like eyes turned to him, apprehension in her words. “I’ve … never been so far into The Deep … To leave all that I know … Where do we go?”
Sucking in his bottom lip, Anthony’s focus moved from her to the path ahead; forward would take them to the boathouse, while the right was to the shore. I don’t know…
A reminiscent voice floated through his brain, advice from what seemed another time and reality. “... Learn from the lost what awaits you in the dark, and entreat the forbidden Realm of Dreams.”
“Do you want to go to the boathouse or the seashore?”
He spoke without realizing, but hope bloomed in the woman’s single uncovered eye, arms pressing tightly against her hidden breasts for more stone fragments to fall along the path. “Oh, I do so wish to see the shore… To feel the sands of time and the winds of fortune on my face again!” she pleaded.
Vision falling to the concrete platform they were on, Anthony’s jaw tightened; he was becoming more accustomed to the entity’s unsettling presence, yet it was only after that he realized a black, pulsating membrane crept across the stone they walked along, and the mind-numbing gong of the bell rang again.
The further he went with this creature, the more at peace he felt; it was as if he was reaching some conclusion to a nightmare. “Why can’t I remember?” he mumbled. “Why am I here?”
His focus returned to the woman as the lower half of her face broke away to reveal a pained smile. “Many ages I have lingered, lonely; in this blindness asking the same questions … I’ve wandered, waiting for one to intervene.”
Multihued tears slid down her cheek. “These questions you ask I have brought to many—numberless is the choir of liars and fools I have pondered.”
The anguish and remorse on the creature’s lulling voice pulled at his heart as she moved to place cold stone-covered fingers against his cheeks; he lost himself in her cosmic gaze. “I have been lost forever, and learned but a single way to free one’s self from this amaurosis … You descend into The Deep—enter The Dream outside your mind—and unite with the neurosis … To partake in the curse of the wise, and peer beyond the veil,” her pearly white teeth flashed with anticipation and dread, “to know what lies beyond what exists.”
Air filled his paralyzed lungs as she broke away, shadowy wisps leaving a hot tingle against his skin, and he knew what he needed to do, but before that, he wanted some way to identify the creature. “Do you have a name?”
A nail dug into his gut with the sweet smile she gave him, masking the horror hiding underneath. “You may call me Jaenona.”
Anthony stiffly nodded and moved to lead them to the shore, each step sinking further into the abyss and setting their path to the Realm of Dreams.