Remnants of Night

I wish I could say the thought never crossed my mind, and if I have to explain what that thought was, then you were obviously not paying attention. I could touch his thoughts, his deepest inner desires, if I wanted to. They were right there. I could destroy that powerful sensual mind; he’d never have to worry about the affliction that befell all mage-kind.

Like a river of molten gold, I could access all his power—a sip, a cup or a deluge. All access. He probably wouldn’t even be able to stop me. He was… so warm.

A cry of pain brought me back from my revelations. Devi?

I sought out the Harbinger. The grelban’s front legs had evolved at some point into little more than stubs with lance points at the end. And both those lance’s had pieced Devi through his stomach.

All thought left me. Devi. Devi! No! I clambered to my feet only to have Ian grab me and hold me back. I tried to shake him off while screaming at him, “Let me go!”

“Listen to me! Listen to me! Zofeya!” He shook me, literally picking me up off my feet when I tried to kick him. “I was watching that entire time. There is no way he would have gotten hurt unless he wanted to be. I think… I think this is what he wanted.”

“How can you say that?” I cried. “That Devi wants to die?!”

“Harbinger!” I was put back on my feet. “Open the portal. He knew what he was doing. Cen’s strength is flagging and that things speed is only getting faster.” I could hear Devi cry out again as the beast bit into him. Drawing in Ian’s power, I set the portal in a cacophony of thunder.

“Devi! We will hold the portal open. You will not go through it. Do you hear me, Devi? You will not!”

With a gut-wrenching sob as the grelban’s lance drilling sideways and up, the Harbinger staggered sideways. The beast was too pleased over its meal to do anything but follow. Its feet mushed until it was walking on putrid bone and sinew. Snarling in both agony and delight, the sound of Devi’s arm breaking under its teeth was loud in my ears.

I wasn’t the only one who saw the determination in the Harbinger’s pain-wracked eyes. He wasn’t going to obey me. The portal loomed near him, held open by the combined effort of Ian and me. Limping, dragging, the Harbinger prepared to throw himself and the grelban into the abyss.

My fear was cut short at the shrill sound Eleanor made as she raced across the open area from where she was hiding. Her hands were up by her shoulders, her head ducked down. She latched on to Devi with her tiny arms and kicked out at the grelban holding him. With a nasty sluck sound, the lance points slid from Devi and the pair of them toppled. The grelban however, unbalanced by its disintegrating legs, fell back and into the looming darkness of the portal. It swallowed the beast without a sound and with a crack that left us all momentarily deaf, the portal closed.

I scrambled to get to Devi. Dress be damned, I ripped off the bottom when it sought to tangle my legs. When I got to him, I dropped to side. I couldn’t help it; I reached over to the mussed and terrified Eleanor and pulled her into a hug. “Eleanor, thank you! Thank you!”

“I should have acted sooner. I’m so sorry.”

“You lovely thing, you saved him. There’s nothing to be sorry for.” I gathered his broken limb closer to his body. Blood soaked the ground, him, me. I didn’t care.

“But—”

“Just wait. I promise you that Devi will be alright. He’ll be alright!” I sounded delirious but I didn’t care. Pulling his head into my lap—my insane defiant assassin—and stayed with him as the light went out in his dull gray eyes. His heart stilled and the last breath left him. I couldn’t help but hunker over him. The tears surprised me. He’d be alright. I promised. Why the tears?

On the other side of us, Ian dropped to a graceless, exhausted pile. He scraped a hand over his face and then his hair, glancing up at the night sky. Eleanor’s hiccupping sniffles drew his eyes. She knelt with her arms stiff straight on her thighs, bunching her narrow shoulders. “You did good, Eleanor. You have our thanks.”

She brushed a hand over her eyes under her glasses. “Really?”

“Yes. It took a lot of bravery to act when you did. And at the right time.”

“I saw… I saw…” She sniffed. “Cenav try to rise and get to his friend but couldn’t. He yelled something at me b-but I didn’t know what it was. I think he wanted me to do something.”

“And you did. Sarkkrai are very good at galvanizing action.”

“He’ll really be alright?”

“I assure you.” Ian’s voice held a hint of a smile but I wasn’t looking at him. I was listening for a heartbeat that had not yet come back to me.

I heard someone rise and lightly pace off. It was Eleanor; I could sense Ian’s presence but he was respectfully remaining quiet. We waited. I touched Devi’s forehead with mine. It was growing colder. My hand faithfully remained on his motionless chest. “Don’t make me wait forever, Deviant. You are not allowed to defy me in this,” I whispered. Still, we waited.

Then I felt the weakest movement. Devi’s left foot gave the smallest kick. Then he gave a gasp that startled me all the way down to my heels. I hugged him fiercely with a half-sob laugh that I hadn’t realized I’d been holding in. He whispered something and I had to get closer to hear.

“M-mistress,” Devi gurgled, “You are… pushing my ribs into my… remaining organs…”

I pulled back, petting away his damp hair from his forehead. From my vantage point, I could see the holes in his midrift heal over. They left nasty-looking bruises but that was an improvement over gaping caverns. The bones in his arms knit audibly. He grimaced. “I always… hated that part.”

“That was a brave thing you did. I will not say I misjudged you, Harbinger, but I… appreciate what you did,” Ian said.

Devi tilted his head a small bit toward the mage. He displayed his sharp, bloodied teeth. “I didn’t do it for you, Pelthocian,” he panted out while his lungs healed.

“No, you didn’t. And I am not doing this solely for you.” Ian, eyes full of discomfort and lips pursed tightly, pushed up a sleeve and held out his arm. Devi and I both regarded him like he’d gone crazy. “I’ll not owe you for doing something I could not. What? Is Pelthocian blood no longer good enough for you? Hurry up before I come to my blasted senses.”

We were both in shock, Devi recovering quicker. While healthy, a Harbinger can come back from death without needing blood but blood was never turned down. It would certainly aid his recovery. And willing blood? Pelthocian mage blood? I couldn’t tell if he was drooling or not. Ian didn’t know it but he was a rare delicacy nearly on par with me.

Devi reached across his chest with his unbroken arm and took what Ian offered. The mage obliged by scooting closer, the discomfited look on his face magnifying. When he brought the Pelthocian’s wrist to his mouth, I could feel him chuckling. Not a bad reward for killing yourself, at least, to a Harbinger. Ian cursed heartily when Devi bit into him like an apple.

Pain tolerance was only going to hold out as long as adrenaline did and Ian was already exhausted. He pulled away not long after Devi had sunk his teeth indelicately into the veins of his wrist. Pale, the mage pulled together enough energy to close the wound. Devi sat up and swiveled around to face me with a big rejuvenated smile that further sent the mage into full-blown self-questioning mode. I wiped a smudge of blood from his cheek and returned the grin. I saw the black was retreating upon my skin. Past Devi’s shoulder, I saw Cenav sitting cross-legged, his hands palm-over-fist under his chin, elbows on knees. Eleanor was trying her best to dab his wounds with a handkerchief; he was dead-set on ignoring her.

“Everyone is covered in gray,” Devi said cheerfully, rising to his feet.

“Red, Devi. Blood is red.” Slower, I got to my own feet as did Ian. “And its mostly you covered in blood.”

“Ah! Red like my eyes then.” He was too pleased; I didn’t want to correct him further. Mage blood could cause a narcotic high in Harbingers? Huh, who knew?

My phone chimed. I sighed. I gave the screen a look. Apparently Invyrchal texted more than the couple times than I took notice.

“You don’t take my advice seriously, do you?”

“This is a warning, Zofeya. You are pushing my generosity.”

“I am trying to give a speech here, Zofeya…”

And lastly, “Good, good. See, I told you to use them. Very clever portal use. The explosion was… quite lovely.”

I looked around at my bedraggled team, the tore up grounds of the park, the cloudy night sky that was steadily growing more foreboding and, finally, my once-beautiful gown. Was this how my life was going to be from now on? And theirs? How was that fair? I hit the reply button. “I don’t recall asking to police any non-human traffic into this world…”

“I didn’t ask you. Priestesses do as they’re told.” He ended with a smiley face.

“Do you expect us to just walk home after all that?” I angrily typed out.

“Ugh! Whatever will get you to be silent. My tryst is starting to get impatient with all these interruptions.”

I nearly tossed the phone in the trash right there. I did not want to think about that. Wait, wasn’t Sho Hashida married? That bastard! “I guess we’re walking,” I said, tossing up my hands. The sky above gave a rumble and the first raindrops began to patter down. “Damn it, Invyrchal!”

In the blink of an eye, from one second to the next, the Rutherford Park was gone and we were all standing in the center of my living room. The rain began to pour and exhaustion hit us all. The ordeal was over. It was time for rest, but first things first. Everyone needed to get the hell out of my house. “I will send you all home. Invyrchal probably won’t even notice to draw.”

I was not going to explain why. I moved to stand before Devi. The Harbinger was glowing with health, his shirt however was completely ruined and he smelled strongly of spilled blood and effluence. He smiled at me, his human smile. “If you need me, Mistress,” Devi said, taking my hands, “I’ll be in the shower.”

The Harbinger strode past me heading toward the second bedroom, not without a last jab at Ian. “And if you ever feel indebted to me again, I think we can always work something out.”

Did I just gain a permanent roommate?

Standing before Cen, I resisted the urge to pull him into a hug. Sarkkrai don’t hug, after all. He stood tall, his wide shoulders squared—so disciplined, my boy was, even here amongst family and friends. His arms had stopped bleeding and he was in no danger even from scarring, but I still wanted to use the last of my energy to heal him. But I had portals to open. Cenav didn’t belong in this world. Neither did Ian and Devi (Devi I’d deal with later). “Where to, Cen?” I asked, my voice miraculously not breaking.

“Rakmorath. I grow tired of being cold and surrounded by… Pelthocians.”

“They’ll be happy to have you back—your men. Your father. Your siblings—”

“I don’t have siblings.”

“Your father has other children and they—”

“They are not like us.” He gave me the wrist-to-wrist salute Sarkkrai typically gave their superiors. Then, with a slight jerkiness, my son reached out and placed his thick hand upon my shoulder. “I will miss you, mother. I know why you stay but no one—not even the Warlord—can keep you from visiting.”

“I will, Cen. You can count on it.” I touched the infinite pool of energy I had access to and recognized it for what it truly was—not mine. In my mind, I connected this world with the Sarkkrai outpost Invyrchal had sent Ian and me to. With a snap that was sure to wake the neighbors, the portal opened before us.

Surprising me, Cen stepped past me to stand in front of Ianarius. “This is who I am, what I am. I must return to Rakmorath,” Cen said. “I do not fear you, Mage, nor can I say I would not welcome a fight for I know it would be a good one. But… I do not hope… for such soon.” His words were the best one could hope for from a Sarkkrai and Ian knew it. He clasped the offered wrist, barely able to wrap his hand around Cenav’s thick limb where Cen’s engulfed his. Turning away, he paused once more, this time by Eleanor. Again there was a hint of uncertainty. “Female.”

Done with his goodbyes, Cenav strode through the portal and I closed it with a twinge. Eleanor, I knew, had no idea how forward thinking it was for him to have included her. Perhaps she’d earned some of his stingy respect? Then again, she was smiling, maybe she did know. Why was she smiling so? Before I could give her any more thought, she excused herself out of the room, mumbling something about the bathroom. Yeah right.

“I wanted to tell you something,” Ian said, rubbing his stiff neck. He looked ready to sleep a week. And knowing what I know about mages, he probably would. “I didn’t learn English, per se. At least not like I said I did. It was a spell.” A little shame-faced, he explained that he had used a mindreading variable spell that pulled connections from a few random people—my neighbors, in fact. It was not too invasive, he claimed, because it wasn’t like he was reading their thoughts. Being that he remembered things so fast, it seemed like the best way of approach. That was also how he spelled Devi.

Not exactly what I was hoping for, but okay. I studied the mage like I might not see him again. The skin under his eyes was tinged purple and there was the shading of a future bruise on his jaw, his hair was mussed but he still looked good. I remembered our dance, the feel of his arms around me. That kiss… it would have been terrific. I smiled sadly.

“What?” He asked. “Sad to see me go?” He stepped closer and I retreated back a step. “What, really? Is it the fact my skin is the wrong color, I don’t smell of blood and iron, or am I just not enough of a raging psychopath for you?”

I couldn’t trust my voice; I shook my head, hair dashing at my cheeks. I palmed my traitorous eyes and shook my head again. “I was wrong, okay! I was wrong about you!” Ian drew up, preparing to be offended. “I thought you were like me, deep down. Beneath appearances, beneath your wanting to play the hero, I figured you were… you were like me. But I was so wrong.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.” His voice was neutral.

“You aren’t a monster.”

He gave a small laugh, the sound sending a thrill of excitement through me. “I guess I’ll take that as a compliment.”

When he stepped closer, this time I did not move back. I could feel the warmth of his body, the scent that was simply him. When he placed his arms around me, for a moment, I let everything just go away. There was nothing else but us. I pressed my cheek into his chest, feeling his heartbeat. Gone was the modern clothing; he wore no illusion. It was just him. My hands roamed the plains and valley of his back. I wondered if his skin was as smooth to the touch as the cloth of his robe.

“Why do you torment me? I am but a mortal man,” he asked, voice low, husky.

I pulled back so I could look at those eyes one last time. Up close they were amazing. Just as were those lips. “You really like playing the hero, don’t you mage?”

“Yeah I guess I do, and unless I’ve missed my mark, so do you.”

“Maybe. Now go home. Get some rest.”

His eyes widened and he blinked a couple of times. I could feel the heavy disappointment and even a touch of insecurity and confusion. But he complied. As he turned to the portal, I studied him like I might not see him again. Who knew, right? Broad shoulders. Lean. Man that ass... When he began to shift through the portal I dropped my mental barriers and let all those naughty thoughts envelope him. I did think highly of him. I did want that kiss—our first time. Hell, I wanted a whole lot more than that. I wanted his hands on me, his lips everywhere. I wanted to touch him, stroke his fire till we both burned like an inferno. I wanted that man like I’d never wanted anyone in my life. And I’d been alive for a very long time. Ian’s whole body jerked to a stop, posture rigid. He turned to look at me but the portal was already taking him back. Our eyes met briefly and I smiled evilly. It would take him days to be able to return once he rested and begun work on setting his own portal.

Delicious, agonizing days.

My portal collapsed on its own; I could no longer hold it open. The island barstool suddenly looked like a little slice of heaven. I sat down.

“Hey, Z,” came Eleanor’s voice. “Ian gone?”

I bobbed my head, not trusting my voice. She had a sympathetic look on her face that I didn’t like. How much had she heard? How much did she know was more the question! Eleanor had washed her face of dirt and makeup. Gone was the fancy—now ruined—dress. She popped up onto the barstool across from me.

“So… you still scheduled for Saturday?” I said, picking at my mangled nails.

“Yes, I think so.”

“Ah, if you want me to fill you in on the past ten years, we could get some coffee. If you want to listen.”

Eleanor smiled brightly and I found myself mirroring the grin.

Yes indeed, the people in my life were all sorts of screwed up, none more so than I. There was the frustrating, inexplicable yet somehow fascinating mage, the inhuman assassin with a penchant for chocolate, the mousy repressed house sitter, my son the killer and his father the leader of a whole race of killers. Add in the addition of a god brought over from a whole other plane of existence and you got a recipe for screwed up with a capital S and capital U.

My name is Zofeya Aldridge. I am the reluctant Priestess of Invyrchal.

I was not always a good person.

But now, I have a reason to try to be…