ã€ŠBreath of Divinityã€‹


 Chapter 1 - Reunited

    It was almost noon when Timothy finally woke. He pulled off his blanket and stretched, his bones popping in an oddly satisfying way as he did, and he wondered briefly how he had ever managed to sleep through the racket being made outside. The early-summer sun was blazing through the half-drawn curtain, the neighbour¡¯s lawnmower was on, filling the air with a loud buzzing, droning noise, and he could hear the sound of raised voices having a very heated argument just beyond his window.

    Blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the room, he reached around for his glasses perched on his bedside table. They were large, black and broad, slashed with strokes of brown across the rim. He didn¡¯t particularly like them, but his mother had insisted that he wear them, despite his numerous pleas to get one a little more fashionable.

    With a small sigh, he fitted them onto the bridge of his nose and the room came into clearer focus. On the other side of the room he could see himself reflected in the dresser mirror, clad in a plain grey T-shirt that was too large for him and Spider-Man themed shorts.

    A pair of dark blue jeans were strung across the door, and the table in the corner of the room had been haphazardly stocked with everything from clean (and potentially some dirty) laundry and a few books he had procured from the local library, which he had promised himself he would get a start on soon though had never gotten the chance. It wasn¡¯t as if he wasn¡¯t interested. He was, but he could not explain to himself why he hadn¡¯t picked one up in all this time. He simply had no motivation to do so.

    Tim climbed out of bed, stumbling a bit on the rugged carpet as the last vestiges of sleep left his body. He ambled downstairs into the living room, which was much darker than his bedroom, owing to all the curtains being drawn. Stifling a huge yawn, Tim moved towards the refrigerator, where a handwritten note had been pinned against the smooth black metal using a small magnet.

    It was written in what was clearly hastily scribbled cursive, in the hand he knew as his mother¡¯s.

    Morning Tim. Sorry, I had to go in to work today. Vanessa had to take Eli to the hospital so I had to cover her shift. He hasn¡¯t been well for a while and he collapsed earlier today. Hopefully it¡¯s nothing serious. Dinner is in the fridge, you can just reheat it in the oven, and I left some money in the upstairs chester drawer if you need anything else. Oh and the chore list is on the counter, I know it¡¯s the start of the holidays but please see what you can do.

    A frown crossed Timothy¡¯s face as he finished reading the note. Vanessa Wilson was one of his mother¡¯s co-workers and her oldest friend. They had known each other since high school, and he and Vanessa¡¯s eldest son Charles were also good friends.

    Eli was his younger brother, and while not as close as he and Charles, he did quite like Eli. Hopefully it was as his mother had wished and it was nothing serious.

    Tim¡¯s eyes flicked back to the bottom of the note, then did a quick sweep of the counter. Sure enough, there was another note, written much more neatly and held in place by a small metal weight. There were twenty items in all, including stuff like: washing the dishes; scrubbing the sink; taking out the trash; doing the laundry; and watering the garden. Timothy set the paper down with a sigh and pulled out a bottle of milk and a half-eaten box of fruit loops.

    So his mother had to go to work on an unscheduled day, and his father was out of town on a business trip. That left him alone, for potentially the whole weekend.

    It wouldn¡¯t be the first time something like this had happened, but he couldn¡¯t say it was something he enjoyed. Most other teenagers he knew would have killed for the opportunity to be left alone for the whole weekend, but Tim could never see the appeal. For one, it meant having to deal with lengthy chore lists like this. Tim sighed again, emptied the fruit loops into the bowl, and began to wolf down his breakfast. If he was going to tackle this list it would be better to get started as soon as possible.

    And then, a truly strange thought crossed his mind as he swallowed another mouthful of cereal, one that had never occurred to him before. Perhaps a chore list like this wouldn¡¯t have been as bad if he had had someone else to divide the work with. Being an only child had never bothered Tim before, but he couldn¡¯t say that he wasn¡¯t at least somewhat intrigued by the idea of having siblings.

    <hr>

    ¡°You don¡¯t even know where you¡¯re going, do you?¡±

    ¡°Of course I do. We just have to take another left here¡­ Or is it a right?¡±

    ¡°Dad!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, okay!¡± said Alan Whitmore, throwing one hand into the air. ¡°I just need to take another look at the map, that¡¯s all.¡± He pulled over and unfolded the enormous, ancient-looking piece of parchment he had stopped to review several times over the course of their three-hour journey. ¡°If we just had a more recent map, we wouldn¡¯t have had any issues.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s definitely the map that¡¯s the problem.¡±

    ¡°How about we save the sarcastic quips for after we reach our destination, huh?¡±

    Jonathan folded his arms and stared out the window at the neighborhood beyond. They were completely lost. Several times he had asked his father if he was completely sure they were on the right path, and whether it wouldn¡¯t be more sensible to ask for directions instead of following a map that looked as old as time itself, but his father had brushed aside each interjection, stating confidently that he was positive they were on the right track. Now they were pulled over on the side of the road in a town they knew nothing about.

    At least it looked pleasant. The houses here were rather small and square, but the lawns were well kept and the paint jobs were fresh and aesthetically pleasing.

    Quite a few people were outside, some simply lounging on their porches, others carrying out an array of different tasks like mowing the lawn, washing cars or conversing with neighbours.

    ¡°Ah, I¡¯ve got it!¡± said Jonathan¡¯s father. ¡°There. We are currently¡­ in a town called Fleming Crescent. Kind of a silly name, don¡¯t you think?¡± He grinned, clearly hoping to find some kind of mutual enjoyment to break the tension, but Jonathan merely stared at him. His father cleared his throat and continued, ¡°The place we¡¯re headed is called Wetland Heights. It¡¯s about another two or so hours from where we are.¡±

    Jonathan groaned. ¡°Dad, I¡¯m starving. If we have to spend another few hours in this bucket of bolts, can we at least get something to eat first?¡±

    Alan Whitmore sighed. ¡°Fine. What do you want?¡±

    ¡°Well, there¡¯s a burger shack nearby.¡±

    ¡°How do you know there¡¯s a burger shack here if you¡¯ve never been here before?¡±

    Jonathan pointed outside, where a large sign hung to their far left, where the words ¡°Leroy¡¯s Burger Shack¡± were written in large scarlet lettering.

    ¡°Oh.¡± Looking embarrassed, Alan waved a hand at his son. ¡°You go on. Bring me back a cheeseburger, I¡¯ll wait here and try to figure out this map.¡± He handed his son a few bills and Jonathan exited the car, glad to be back in the cool, fresh air.

    It was the start of the Summer holidays and his father, who had been dropping hints in the weeks prior that he wanted to spend more father-son time together, had finally popped the question of going for a brief camping trip in a nearby town. Most unfortunately, Jonathan¡¯s own friends all had plans to travel for the break, or had engaged in other activities that would take up most of their time. Besides, a part of Jonathan ¡ª a part that had been firmly quelled by the awful turn of events that had taken place recently ¡ª had been in agreement with his father that they had certainly been drifting apart what with his extremely demanding job and Jonathan preparing for his end of term tests. So he had agreed, and three hours earlier they had packed their bags and drove off into the early morning sun.

    Neither of them had had any idea that the next three hours would include a series of back-to-back inconveniences, like running out of gas on the highway despite the needle very clearly pointing at F when they had driven off; getting stuck in a gas station line for nearly forty five minutes; the trunk randomly bursting open and spilling most of their supplies onto the road; and, most recently and most irritating of all, discovering that the road they had intended to take was blocked and having to resort to the dusty old map in the dashboard drawer to find a new path to take.

    All in all, it certainly wasn¡¯t anything like either of them had expected. Now they were pulled over in this quaint but strange little neighbourhood, which despite never setting foot in this place before, felt slightly nostalgic.

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    It was like the face of someone he had known fleetingly in youth, that had changed due to the passage of time, but still bore resemblance to the people he once knew. But he didn¡¯t know any of these people, and that he knew for a fact given how some of them were staring at him. He had observed this kind of behaviour before, how people often reacted to outsiders, but being on the experiencing end was far worse. The way they were looking at him, it was as if he was something unpleasant they usually found stuck to the bottom of their shoes that had gained the ability to walk. Jonathan turned away, avoiding eye contact and fiddling with the ring on his finger as he walked.

    It was a small hoop of solid gold ¡ª real gold ¡ª with a tiny sapphire twinkling in the center.

    It had once belonged to his mother, who had passed it onto him when he was younger, several years before she passed away. He had worn it ever since. It gave him a sense of security; he couldn¡¯t explain it, but the way he felt when he wore it was similar to the few times he remembered being wrapped in her arms, as if she was still there beside him. Jonathan chuckled as he remembered when he had once tried to barter the ring for a new action figure and his mother went ballistic.

    Jonathan had never seen her so angry before, not even on the occasion when he had accidentally taken a baseball bat to the brand new TV they had bought only three days prior.

    Since then, it had almost never left his finger. As far as he was concerned it was as much a part of his body as his arm was.

    The line to Leroy¡¯s Burger Shack dwindled slowly. There were only two workers at the front, who looked extremely harassed, darting back and forth into the kitchen as angry customers hurled curses after them. The Shack itself was nothing special, small and shabby, with a dull paint job and furniture that looked as old as the map his father was still struggling to read. But the food smelled delicious. Finally, after what felt like hours, Jonathan was at the front.

    He quickly scanned the menu and made his decision, placing his order for a regular Number 1 combo and a cheeseburger as his father had requested. While the cashier entered the order details, Jonathan felt a strange prickling feeling on the back of his neck, the same kind one sometimes had when someone was glaring at you from behind.

    Jonathan turned around ¡ª and sure enough there was a man on the other side of the glass, looking in through the windows. He was wearing a black leather jacket, with a head of bright brown hair cut taper style, and a pair of pale blue eyes so bright they may have been cut from real aquamarines. He was looking right at Jonathan, those unnaturally bright blue eyes fixed in an eerie, unblinking stare.

    ¡°Sir?¡± said the cashier, not even bothering to hide his exasperation. ¡°Your receipt?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Jonathan started, wheeling around. ¡°Oh, yeah. Sorry I just ¡ª I saw some guy staring at me.¡±

    ¡°What guy?¡± sighed the cashier.

    ¡°That guy.¡± But as Jonathan looked around, he saw that the man was gone. ¡°But¡­ he was right there¡­¡±

    ¡°Sure he was. Next in line!¡±

    The cashier thrust his receipt at him and someone shoved him aside as they pushed to the front. Jonathan moved to the other side of the room, awaiting his order, glancing back outside to see whether or not the man was still out there. But he didn¡¯t reappear. At last, his number was called and the server provided him with a large brown paper bag with a giant L that had a smiling face. Jonathan left the Shack at high speed and hurried into the car.

    ¡°Just in time too! I finally figured out the map! You okay, Jonny?¡± His father peered at him, looking concerned.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m fine,¡± he said, handing his father his burger. ¡°Can we take these to go please? I don¡¯t like this place.¡±

    Mr. Whitmore clearly had more questions, but didn¡¯t pursue the matter. Instead he kicked the engine into ignition and the scarlet Honda shot off down the road, a slight rumbling sound emanating from the underside of the vehicle.

    <hr>

    Timothy ripped off his gloves with a loud snapping sound and tossed them onto the dining table, sinking heavily into one of the chairs. He poured himself a glass of water and sighed, then glanced at the chore list. It had taken him four hours, but he had finally completed most of his tasks. The dishes were washed and stacked away, the living room had been tidied, three loads of laundry had been washed and folded, and even the garden had been pruned. He was exhausted.

    Sweat trickled down his face and his chest was heaving. It was the same set of chores that he did everyday, but regardless of how much practice he had they still had the same effect.

    Absentmindedly he removed his glasses; sweat was beading onto the lenses. It happened for just a brief moment, but the instant the spectacles were removed from his face he heard a soft rushing noise, like something small and unseen was whooshing past his ear. Aside from when he had to sleep, there were very few times where he needed to remove his glasses, but whenever he did there was still a slight but noticeable difference. He didn¡¯t know how to explain it, but he felt lighter somehow, as if a weight he hadn¡¯t known he was carrying had been temporarily lifted from his shoulders.

    For a few minutes he sat there, staring through the window and listening to the neighbours still arguing. They had been going at it since the moment he had woken up, pausing here and there and then resuming with even more passion. From what Timothy could gather, the ¡°nephew¡± that had moved in a few weeks ago wasn¡¯t really a long lost family member.

    An intricate array of swear words had just crossed the air when he saw something else that made him hastily put his glasses back on. A car was coming up down the street, but the way it was moving¡­ something was off. It was swerving from side to side, movements jerky and erratic. The car struggled up the road for a few more seconds, then came to an abrupt halt. Two people emerged from the vehicle, coughing, as black smoke billowed up through the windows. One of them seemed to be rather close to Timothy in age, give or take a few years. He was tall and lean, with dark brown hair pushed back across his forehead and a fierce scowl on his face.

    The other seemed to be his father, although there wasn¡¯t much resemblance between them. The man was blond and curly-haired, with deeper-toned skin and a rounder jaw. But then again, Timothy thought suddenly, what did he know about genetics? If someone saw him and his father side-by-side they would probably have thought the same thing.

    Timothy shrugged and returned to his seat. Whatever was happening outside wasn¡¯t his business. He had just pulled the chore list back towards him and was doing a quick review of the ones he had left over when he heard something that shocked him more than anything he had heard from his arguing neighbours all evening: the doorbell rang. Bewildered, wondering who would possibly be at his door at this time of day, Tim got to his feet and strode towards the door, then pulled it open.

    ¡°Hi,¡± said the very man he had just watched emerge from the broken down car, smiling rather awkwardly. ¡°We were just having a bit of car trouble. Do you mind if we borrowed your phone for a bit?¡±

    ¡°Uh,¡± Timothy spluttered, his eyes moving from the father to his still-scowling son, whose arms were folded and whose eyes were glaring at the house further down the street. ¡°Y-yeah, sure.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a godsend,¡± said the man, clasping his hands together briefly. He wiped his shoes on the doormat and entered along with his son, who was still staring everywhere but in front of him. ¡°I don¡¯t even know what happened. One minute everything was going fine and the next, the damn thing starts billowing up smoke.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, everything was going so fine, wasn¡¯t it?¡±

    Timothy looked up to see the boy¡¯s father shoot him an angry glance, but the boy didn¡¯t look at him. His eyes were still sweeping the entire room.

    ¡°Here you go.¡± Timothy handed him the wireless receiver.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± the father said, and as he dialed a number he continued, ¡°We were just heading out for a short trip but I guess the universe had other plans. Oh I¡¯m sorry, here we are barging into your home and we haven¡¯t even introduced ourselves. I¡¯m Alan Whitmore, and this is my son Jonathan. ¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Tim,¡± he said. ¡°Tim Bryant.¡±

    The father stopped abruptly, finger frozen above the dialing button. He looked up, a very strange expression on his face. ¡°Bryant? You wouldn¡¯t be related to a Tony Bryant, would you?¡±

    ¡°Yes, actually. He¡¯s my dad. Are you a friend of his?¡±

    Mr. Whitmore paled. His son cast a glance at him, eyebrow raised. The man smiled and hastily returned the phone. ¡°You know what, thanks for your help but never mind, I think I know what the problem is. Come on, Jonny.¡±

    ¡°Wait what, but you just said you didn¡¯t ¡ª¡±

    ¡°I know what I said, but I¡¯m saying now that we have to go. Once again I appreciate your help, Tim, but we really should be moving on.¡±

    ¡°Uh ¡ª sure. Yeah, I¡¯ll tell my dad you stopped by.¡±

    ¡°No! I mean¡­ that¡¯s not necessary, I¡¯ll reach out to him.¡±

    ¡°What is the matter with you?¡± said Jonathan. ¡°Why are you acting so weird?¡±

    Tim had to commend his bravery ¡ª he could never have spoken to his parents like that.

    ¡°We don¡¯t have time to argue,¡± Mr. Whitmore insisted. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡±

    Jonathan opened his mouth to argue some more, but before he had even got the words out, something strange began to happen. For the first time Tim noticed a small gold ring at his finger, topped with a chink of sapphire that was glowing. No, not glowing, it was pulsating, blinking brighter and brighter like the indicator of a car.

    ¡°What the ¡ª?¡± the boy gasped, flashing his hand furiously. Timothy gasped too, then realized that another pulsing light was flashing in the room, this one scarlet ¡ª and coming from his own glasses. He noticed it as he looked into the mirror beside him, the small studs around the rim flashing. Without thinking, Tim threw off the glasses, which landed with a thud but miraculously did not break.

    The glasses stopped glowing, and so did the ring. And for the first time since his guests had entered, the son looked directly into Tim¡¯s eyes.

    They did not speak, but instead gaped at each other, jaws hanging open.

    ¡°This is not good,¡± Mr. Whitmore mumbled, and they both turned to look at him. ¡°This is not good.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± his son demanded. ¡°What is going on?¡±

    ¡°Your questions are going to have to wait, Jonny. We need to leave now and get somewhere safe.¡±

    ¡°Safe?¡± Jonathan¡¯s face was a mask of sheer disbelief. ¡°Safe from what?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll explain later, for right now ¡ª¡±

    But Jonathan turned on his heel and sank down into the dining chair that Timothy had been sitting in only a few minutes ago, crossed his arms and glared at his father. ¡°I¡¯m not going anywhere until you tell me what¡¯s going on.¡±

    Mr. Whitmore and his son stared daggers at each other. Timothy¡¯s eyes swiveled from one to the other, neither one appearing to relent any time soon. But at last, Mr. Whitmore let out a defeated sigh. ¡°Fine, but we¡¯ll have to skip over a few details. I don¡¯t have the time to tell you the whole story. Pull up a chair too,¡± he added, looking at Tim, his expression deathly serious. ¡°This concerns you too.¡±

 Chapter 2: Men and Monsters

    ¡°Now, this is going to sound a little crazy¡­ well a lot crazy, actually. But everything I¡¯m about to say is completely true, boys.¡±

    Jonathan, who was still sitting around Tim¡¯s dining table with his arms folded, raised an eyebrow at his father. Per Mr. Whitmore¡¯s request, Tim had drawn up a chair as well and positioned it a small distance away from his own, an anxious look on his face that only grew more troubled at his father¡¯s pronouncement. The glasses, timid expression, bad stutter and comic-book hero shorts spoke a lot about Tim¡¯s persona, but the most interesting thing about him was how starkly it contrasted with how he looked.

    His demeanor painted a picture of someone shy and introverted, who preferred to keep to his own space and was at high risk of imploding when faced with the slightest social interaction. But physically speaking, Tim was tall and muscular. His skin was rather pale, as though sun-deprived, his dark hair was combed forward across his forehead, and his eyes were a bright hazel brown.

    They seemed a bit smaller than before without his glasses, which he had picked up though seemed reluctant to put back on. Without them he looked more like a stereotypical jock, except the expression on his face was similar to that of a small, frightened child.

    ¡°Listen, Jonny¡­ this is really not the way your mother and I intended for you to find out. In fact, we had a whole plan arranged for how we were going to tell you one day but¡­ Then she passed and¡­ I guess I never got around to it.¡±

    The way his voice tightened at the mention of his mother was like an arrow to the heart. Jonathan felt a wave of a familiar and completely unwelcome emotion wash over him, threatening to consume him the way it had when his father had first come to pick him up at school to deliver the news on that horrible day. ¡°Tell me what?¡± he forced out, desperate to change the topic.

    Mr. Whitmore took a deep, shaking breath, as if summoning the courage to force out his next two words.

    ¡°You¡¯re adopted.¡±

    Silence. Jonathan had expected to hear something that would cause the very world to fall away at his feet, or at least send a reasonably strong tremor through it. That was all? Sure it was still a shock, but the kind of urgency his father had exhibited before didn¡¯t feel quite right following such a simple pronouncement. Even Tim looked rather underwhelmed, nose scrunched in confusion.

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Jonathan asked.

    ¡°You¡¯re adopted,¡± repeated Mr. Whitmore, who looked slightly bemused himself at the reaction he had gotten. ¡°You are still my son, in every other way that matters. Just not biologically. A while back, your mother and I were eager to start a family, but I guess the universe had other plans back then too. We must¡¯ve visited a hundred fertility doctors, did everything they instructed us to do. But nothing worked. We¡¯d just about given up, when something strange happened. And well, this is where it gets crazy.

    ¡°On our very last visit to the doctor, your mother was completely defeated. She wasn¡¯t even sad, really. She was just numb. Being a mother meant everything to her, and for whatever reason she was denied the chance.

    ¡°She wouldn¡¯t sleep, could barely eat, didn¡¯t even move unless she had to go to work, and she eventually stopped doing that too. After three days of pleading, I managed to convince her to go out with me. I wanted to make her feel special, forget about everything else.¡±

    ¡°How did that turn out?¡±

    ¡°About as well as today did. It was such a horrible experience that we were barely out for two hours before she said she wanted to go home. So I brought her back, and when we got inside, there was somebody else there. Now of course we freaked out, considering that we locked every door before we left out. But he didn¡¯t seem to want to harm us. In fact, he was pretty breezy about the whole thing. He told us that he knew what we were going through and offered us a proposition. To this day I don¡¯t know why we even listened to him, but we were both in such a bad head space back then and he was telling us everything we wanted to hear.

    ¡°So we agreed to meet him at the place he gave us directions to. It was nowhere special, some old home whose owners had died the weeks before, and right there in the living room was a beautiful baby boy, sleeping in a crib. He explained to us that the kid¡¯s real parents had died, but charged him with making sure that he ended up in a loving, safe home before they did. That kid was you, Jonny.¡±

    Jonathan gaped at him, mouth slightly open. ¡°Wh-what happened to my real parents then? How did they die?¡±

    Mr. Whitmore hesitated before he answered, which is how Jonathan knew he was lying. ¡°He never told us the full details. All we know is that he wanted you safe, and we were more than happy to have you. The other details weren¡¯t important.¡±

    Jonathan was frowning, trying to make sense of what he was hearing. In Jonathan¡¯s temporary daze, Tim raised his hand, like a kindergarten student trying to catch the teacher¡¯s attention.

    ¡°Sorry, this is really interesting and all, but you said it concerns me too. How?¡±

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s the thing. I think your parents would have preferred to be the ones to tell you, and under different circumstances, but Jonathan wasn¡¯t the only baby there. And my wife and I weren¡¯t the only parents. There were five pairs in all, and five children ¡ª and you were one of those kids too.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s not true,¡± said Tim, looking stunned. ¡°It can¡¯t be.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but it is. I still remember the look on Tony and Maria¡¯s faces. They couldn¡¯t believe what they were hearing either, but they were so excited at the chance to be parents, just like the rest of us.¡±

    ¡°Dad, this ¡ª this is crazy!¡± Jonathan said, breaking out of his stupor at last. ¡°You really expect us to believe any of this?¡±

    ¡°Expect you to, not so much. But being crazy doesn¡¯t make something untrue, does it? And that¡¯s not all, either. That day, the man told us that the kids weren¡¯t ordinary kids either. They were special. ¡®The next generation of gods,¡¯ is what he called you.¡±

    ¡°Unbelievable.¡± Jonathan rolled his eyes, his expression morphing from shock to anger in a mere instant. He looked over at Tim, whose mouth was still hanging open. ¡°Sorry about this, I guess the fumes from the blown engine must have messed with his brain or something.¡±

    ¡°You want proof, Jonny?¡± said Mr. Whitmore, raising his voice slightly. ¡°Before we left, that man gave each set of parents a different item that belonged to the child. Told us to make sure that each of them brought it with them at all times, to ensure they remained safe. And you have yours with you right now.¡± Jonathan¡¯s eyes fell to where his father was pointing.

    ¡°Wh ¡ª  my ring?¡± His feeling of disbelief resurged, more powerful than before.

    Mr. Whitmore nodded. ¡°Have you ever noticed how anxious your mother and I used to get whenever you took it off? Remember how she blew a gasket when we found out you tried to trade it for that doll? That ring doesn¡¯t just have sentimental value, Jonny. It¡¯s quite possibly what¡¯s kept you alive for the past twelve years. And the same is true of Tim¡¯s glasses.¡±

    Tim glanced immediately at the pair of spectacles he was holding, as if suddenly suspicious it might explode. Jonathan, however, wasn¡¯t convinced.

    ¡°You don¡¯t believe me,¡± said Mr. Whitmore.

    ¡°Do you even believe you? Everything that¡¯s coming out of your mouth is nonsense, and that¡¯s putting it nicely.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± Mr. Whitmore said, and to Jonathan¡¯s indignation he was smiling. ¡°Fine. You want proof? Take off your ring.¡±

    Jonathan hovered for a moment, indecisive, then decided to play along. It was fine as long as it helped to bring this colossal waste of time to a quicker end. He removed his ring, and all of a sudden the world felt a little bit colder, as though the shadow of his mother¡¯s embrace had left him.

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°Now hold it up and say, ¡®Orus!¡¯¡±

    Rolling his eyes, Jonathan held up the ring. ¡°Orus!¡±

    Tim let out a gasp of shock. At once, the sapphire in the center of the ring began to glow again, enveloped in a brilliant azure light. Jonathan dropped the ring and the floor was suffused in a blinding light, so fierce now that they had to cover their eyes with their hands. When at last the sapphire glare had died down, they looked back and saw that where the ring had been was now a long, double-sided sword, whose hilt was made of some strange greyish-green material that looked both metallic and rock-like at the same time. The sapphire too had changed: it had expanded from a pebble-sized shard to a large trilliant-shaped slab, embedded in the center of the handle.

    ¡°Oh my God,¡± Tim whispered, peering out at the sword from behind the counter where he had taken refuge. Jonathan knelt down and picked up the sword, examining the smooth, gleaming blade in the afternoon sunlight filtering in through the open windows.

    ¡°This is insane,¡± Jonathan said. ¡°How ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Like I said, Jon. ¡®Crazy¡¯ doesn¡¯t mean untrue,¡± said Mr. Whitmore, his expression grimmer than ever. ¡°Now do you believe me?¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± Jonathan looked around at Tim, though not sure exactly why. Perhaps he wanted support, to hear Tim renounce the idea as ludicrous. But how exactly could one do that, given what they just saw? Tim was clearly thinking along the same lines, as all he could do was shrug. ¡°I¡­ I guess,¡± said Jonathan. ¡°It¡¯s still a lot to digest.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯ll have time to let it sink in, but for right now we really need to go.¡±

    ¡°Why? I don¡¯t understand.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the thing, you don¡¯t. And right now we¡¯re on a clock. I¡¯ll explain everything later. You just have to trust me, okay.¡± Mr. Whitmore looked at his son, not demanding, but pleading. At last, Jonathan relented.

    ¡°Okay.¡±

    ¡°Good. There¡¯s a safe house not too far from here. The man who gave you to us that night told us that if anything like this ever happened we had to get there as soon as possible. It¡¯s a bit of a hefty drive but if we leave now we can make it by nightfall, if we¡¯re lucky. Tim, I suggest you grab a jacket, you¡¯ll need to come with us too. Don¡¯t worry, your parents already know the procedure,¡± he added, as Tim opened his mouth to protest. ¡°You can call them while we¡¯re on the way, they can vouch for everything I told you.¡±

    Tim stood for a moment, indecisive. Jonathan expected him to rebuff the idea, but to his surprise, he nodded.

    ¡°Great. Now meet us outside. It¡¯s gonna be a long drive.¡±

    <hr>

    It seemed Mr. Whitmore had given up on any attempts to have his vehicle looked at. He called for a tow company to pick it up, but before the wrecker had even arrived another car came zooming into view. A sleek, white Dodge Durango that came to a halt at their feet.  A rental, which had an odd smell lingering inside but was otherwise quite cozy. Tim sat in the backseat, anxiously fidgeting with his glasses while Jonathan and Mr. Whitmore took the front seats. His vision was still pretty blurry, but after seeing what had happened with Jonathan¡¯s ring he was reluctant to put the glasses near his face again, despite Mr. Whitmore¡¯s assurances it was safe.

    Mr. Whitmore had instructed Jonathan to put on his seatbelt, which was a good idea in hindsight considering he was driving like a madman. At this rate whatever supernatural threats he was trying to avoid had less of a chance of noticing them than the police.

    During the period they had waited for the rental to arrive, Tim had tried to call his parents multiple times. He was not successful, however. Every call was met with their voicemails, which did nothing to alleviate his worries.

    He wanted to hear more about this situation from them. It wasn¡¯t that he didn¡¯t trust Mr. Whitmore ¡ª he had provided undeniable proof, after all ¡ª but he felt he would have been able to handle this situation better if he had heard it coming from his own parents rather than a stranger. While Timothy had tried in vain to reach his parents, Mr. Whitmore had stood to the side, making frantic phone calls. Judging by the angry mutters and the way he was aggressively tapping the keypad, it didn¡¯t seem like he was having better luck. After several futile attempts, however, it seemed he had finally gotten one person to pick up. From the snatches he and Jonathan heard of their conversation, it sounded as if he was talking with one of the other parents who had been there the night he had taken Jonathan in, and instructed them to meet their group wherever it was they were heading.

    Mr. Whitmore continued his efforts to reach them while they drove, but he was met with the same results.

    They tried to probe for more information on the way, but every time they invoked questions about their mystery caretaker, their supposedly dead birth parents, their other three siblings, or the fact that they were allegedly supernatural beings, Mr. Whitmore shut them down, insisting that all questions would be answered later. That wasn¡¯t good enough for Tim.

    He¡¯d just learned that the entire basis of his life was a lie, that he had not one ¡ª but four siblings out there after being led to believe that he was an only child, on top of the revelation that he was supposedly born of divine lineage, and Mr. Whitmore refused to provide any answers.

    He wanted to rage and storm, to demand answers, and yet he sat there, unable to do anything but fiddle with his glasses ¡ª which were apparently also a lie. It was pathetic, but that was Tim. He wished he had even an iota of Jonathan¡¯s fierceness. A lot of things would have turned out differently if he did. Now dusk was upon them, and Mr. Whitmore was casting anxious glances through the window every few seconds, as if he was expecting something to come hurtling out of the sky and smash into their truck. Finally, it seemed Jonathan had had enough.

    ¡°Dad, will you please tell us what¡¯s going on? Why do you keep looking out the window like a lunatic? What is coming after us?¡±

    ¡°I told you, I¡¯ll answer all your questions la ¡ª¡±

    ¡°But why can¡¯t you tell us now?¡±

    ¡°You know, I have no idea where you get this stubbornness from. It¡¯s certainly not from me!¡±

    ¡°If Mom was here she would have told me!¡± snapped Jonathan.

    For a moment Tim was worried the car was going to veer right off the road. Mr. Whitmore was so shocked he stared at Jonathan for several seconds before returning his gaze to the road in front of them. ¡°That was a low blow, Jon.¡±

    Tim privately agreed but kept his thoughts to himself. Awkward silence filled the car like an enormous, inflating balloon. Tim stared at the landscape beyond the windows. Green fields flew past them, dotted with the black, white and brown shapes of cattle and sheep. The sky above them steadily darkened as they drove, less and less vehicles appearing on the roads now. Twenty minutes of deeply charged silence later, Mr.. Whitmore actually spoke again.

    ¡°The man¡¯s name was Sytris. He didn¡¯t tell us the full details, just that the five of you didn¡¯t come from this world. You were born in a place called Algyria, which exists outside of Earth. It was a place for higher beings, he said. Celestials. People who could live eternally, who had powers beyond human comprehension. But Algyria had a darker counterpart. While the place you came from enjoyed centuries of peace and prosperity, their sister dimension was ruled by savage, bloodthirsty, corrupted beings. For the most part the two civilizations ignored each other, until the dark gods ¡ª Harbingers ¡ª invaded Algyria.

    ¡°According to Sytris the Algyrians were completely unprepared. And the result was a genocide. Most of them were either killed off or enslaved. Your parents sent their loyal servant, Sytris, off along with their children, with the mission of keeping the kids safe.

    ¡°Sytris found five families who he believed were worthy to take in his masters¡¯ only remaining children, and told them that the kids should never meet again under any circumstances.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± asked Jonathan, who was listening raptly.

    ¡°Because of what happened back there with your ring and Tim¡¯s glasses. Sytris explained that he enchanted five different objects before handing over the children, and gave each of you one of them. The objects appear completely mundane, but are infused with magic powerful enough to conceal your magical sides and make you effectively human. But once you come into contact with one another the objects react to each other and let off something like a flare. A powerful magical signature like that could attract unwanted attention, which means the Harbingers could be coming after you right now to do what they did to the rest of your people, to you.

    ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯re heading where we¡¯re going now. It¡¯s part of a contingency plan, if ever something like this happened. I tried to reach out to the other parents but I only got through to one. I hope the others are okay.¡±

    ¡°But ¡ª but if they do come after us, what do we do then?¡± Tim asked. ¡°How are we supposed to protect ourselves?¡±

    ¡°Remember how I said each of you got a special item? They¡¯re bewitched to look like everyday items, but each one of them is actually a weapon made of Brightsteel, one of the most powerful weapons from your home planet, and the only thing that can kill a god ¡ª evil or not.¡±

    ¡°But how are we even sure these guys are going to come after us? I mean how far away from Earth is this Algyria place? What if they decide we¡¯re not worth the trouble?¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t take the chance. These people are vicious and ruthless. And I doubt something as simple as physical distance would deter them.¡±

    They came to a halt as the stoplight in front of them switched from orange to scarlet. Mr. Whitmore drummed his fingers along the steering wheel. ¡°Come on, come on,¡± he muttered.

    ¡°Come on, Dad. It¡¯s been hours,¡± Jonathan said, clearly trying to reassure his father. ¡°If something was going to happen, don¡¯t you think we would have at least seen some kind of sign by now?¡±

    Mr. Whitmore expelled a deep breath. ¡°I know, I know. I just don¡¯t want to take the chan ¡ª¡±

    There was a noise like an explosion, drowning out the sound of Mr. Whitmore¡¯s voice.

    Something crashed into the side of the car with the force of a battering ram. The blow was so powerful that Tim flew to the other side of the seat, shards of the window raining upon him. The car staggered, but another blow came raining on the vehicle again, sending them rolling across the street. The last thing Tim heard before darkness swallowed his vision was the Whitmores screaming from the front seat, followed by a deep, blood-chilling growl, and a flash of angry red eyes glaring in through the broken window.

 Chapter 3: And Then There Were Three

    Jonathan¡¯s father tapped his fingers anxiously against the steering wheel, still shooting furtive glances out the window. It was like he expected the very ground to open up underneath them and swallow them whole at any moment.

    ¡°Come on, come on,¡± he was muttering.

    Jonathan had no idea what these Harbingers were like or what they could do, but he couldn¡¯t stand the sight of his father being so nervous. It was starting to make him feel unsettled too.

    ¡°Come on, Dad. It¡¯s been hours. If something was going to happen, don¡¯t you think we would have at least seen some kind of sign by now?¡±

    His father sighed heavily. ¡°I know, I know. I just don¡¯t want to take the chan ¡ª¡±

    Jonathan had glimpsed it coming, but his brain didn¡¯t process exactly what he was seeing until it was far too late. The thing that came from the shadows was as large as a rhino, with eyes the colour of fresh blood. It was feline in nature, with a tail thicker than a garden hose and completely hairless, like some kind of mutated Sphynx cat. The most horrifying thing about it though was how it had appeared from the darkness ¡ª in a literal sense. It had actually melted from the shadows, taking the shape of the massive beast that slammed into the side of the car.

    The blow was fierce, but not enough to topple them. Before they even had a chance to gather their bearings, the beast redoubled and charged the door again. The force gouged a deep dent into the metal, sending the Durango rolling several feet away, its passengers screaming as they were flung from side to side. When at last the vehicle steadied, Jonathan, who had been thrown against the window, was blinking blood out of his eyes, which he was having difficulty keeping open.

    ¡°Jonny¡­ Jonny¡­¡± He could tell his father was shouting, but despite being right beside him his voice sounded like it was coming from the far end of a very long tunnel. ¡°Wake up¡­ wake up!¡±

    Jonathan¡¯s eyes flew open, and he became all too aware of the throbbing pain in his forehead and the blood flowing profusely from a gash on his shoulder. Mr. Whitmore was scrabbling at the handle of the door, trying to open it. The beast was still prowling around outside, judging by the ominous growls rising through the air.

    ¡°What is that thing?¡± Jonathan shouted over the ringing in his ears.

    ¡°No clue! But we have to get out, now!¡± Mr. Whitmore shouted back. He finally managed to pry the door open, just as the beast appeared beside the car. Jonathan was worried that he was about to be sliced to ribbons by the creature¡¯s gigantic claws, but his worries alleviated a mere second later, as Mr. Whitmore slammed the door on the animal so forcefully that it recoiled with a hiss of pain. Jonathan stared at his father in awe, but the surprises didn¡¯t stop there. He fumbled around in his traveling bag for a moment and then extracted a sleek brown object ¡ª a double-barreled shotgun.

    ¡°Where did you get that?!¡±

    ¡°Can we talk about this later, please!¡± Mr. Whitmore emerged from the car and fired. A tremendous bang echoed, followed by another squeal of agony. ¡°Come on, Jonny!¡±

    Jonathan scrambled sideways across the seats. He had difficulty navigating, seeing as he was still feeling rather disoriented, but at last he managed to make it outside. Mr. Whitmore, who had several cuts across his face but looked otherwise fine, was reaching into the backseat, trying to extract Tim, who was unconscious, with one arm, while the other fended the beast off with the shotgun.

    ¡°Your ring!¡± Mr. Whitmore shouted.

    For a moment Jonathan was confused. The blood leaking freely from the injury on his forehead left him slightly dazed, but as the beast was repelled by yet another shot the memory of what had happened only hours before in Tim¡¯s kitchen came crashing into his brain. He pulled off the ring, which he had gotten so used to wearing that taking it off for even a moment left him feeling incomplete, and held it up. ¡°Orus!¡± he cried. The ring was once again suffused with a brilliant blue light, but this time it was cooler than before, more pleasant.

    Jonathan¡¯s eyes involuntarily narrowed at the sudden brightness, which illuminated the dark path around them, and which seemed to cause the beast¡¯s sudden hesitation. It recoiled with a hiss at the light, and once it had finally died down Jonathan was left cradling the large brightsteel sword once more.

    The enormous catlike creature came bounding forward again, but there was something like caution in its movements now. It didn¡¯t charge them directly, instead swerving from left to right as if deliberating the best angle to attack from. Jonathan had never used a sword before, but the basics had to be simple, right? Point and swing. He took aim and cleaved at the creature ¡ª or at least, he tried.

    Now he realized why swordfighting was called an art, because it was infinitely more complex than he had initially believed. Pointing and swinging was only carrying him so far, because he was either swinging too short and missing his target entirely, or swinging too wide and unbalancing himself. The only reason he was still alive was because the beast seemed to dislike the brightsteel, and kept jerking back every time he swung, no matter how wide the distance between the sword and itself.

    Mr. Whitmore was desperately trying to revive Tim, shaking him vigorously, but Tim refused to wake up. He gritted his teeth and swore, then removed Tim¡¯s glasses.

    A soft kind of glow passed through Tim¡¯s skin, and slowly, the wounds on his arms and face began to knit together, as if invisible needles were stitching the flesh back together. Jonathan looked down at his own skin, awed, and saw that the even though the splotches of blood remained, the wounds underneath them were no longer present. Tim¡¯s eyes fluttered open.

    Another huge bang echoed through the field as the creature was repelled once more, oozing flecks of viscous green blood onto the dry grass, and Mr. Whitmore helped Tim to his feet. ¡°Come on, Jon.¡± Swinging Tim¡¯s arm over his shoulder, Mr. Whitmore began to hobble his way across the grass.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we be heading away from the woods? Doesn¡¯t it have a better chance of cornering us like this?¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t lead it back to the main road either, there are civilians there.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re civilians too!¡±

    ¡°No, you aren¡¯t. That¡¯s why that thing is here. It sensed you, and Tim. Which is why we have to get ¡ª¡±

    A roar like a clap of thunder pierced the air, and the ground beneath them quaked as if an earthquake was passing through. The monster landed directly in front of them, its hairless body caked with blood and growling furiously. Tim was fully awake now, transfixed with horror at what lay in front of them. Jonathan leapt forward, sword raised high and ready to swing, but the beast seemed to have had enough.

    It lashed out with its long, veiny tail and swatted him to the ground; the sword flew from his hands, cascading across the low-cut grass, and the beast pounced on him. Pain erupted in Jonathan¡¯s whole body as its fangs, as thick as Jonathan¡¯s fingers, ruptured his stomach, sinking deeper and tearing through flesh, through bone, possibly even through his internal organs. Agony blinded him, deafened him even to the sound of his own blood-curdling screams.

    ¡°Jonny!¡± he heard his father shout, as though miles away. Mr. Whitmore was about to advance, shotgun poised, but then hesitated, looking down at the weapon. ¡°This thing can hurt it, but it won¡¯t finish the job.¡± He thrust Tim¡¯s glasses into his hands. ¡°Do what Jonathan did with his ring, but instead, say ¡®Lenos!¡¯¡±

    ¡°W-what?¡±

    ¡°Just do it!¡± Mr. Whitmore bellowed.

    Automatically, as though he was a machine following programming, Tim raised the glasses. ¡°Lenos!¡± The spectacles began to glow, suffused with a radiant crimson light so fierce it felt like his fingers were melting under the heat, but Tim held on. And within a moment, the red flare had died down and Tim¡¯s hands were being weighed down by something far heavier than his ugly glasses. It was a massive, double-ended hammer, three feet long and flat-headed, with markings slashed around the rim, which Tim recognized as the same ones that had been on the glasses.

    ¡°Woah!¡± Tim breathed, turning the weapon from side to side.

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°You can admire it later,¡± said Mr. Whitmore, pointing at the creature.

    Tim hesitated for just a second, looking first at Mr. Whitmore and then at Jonathan, who was still yelling. His screams were louder than the monster¡¯s roars, reverberating through Tim¡¯s very bones. Tim had never considered himself to be a bastion of bravery, or strength, but in that moment all inhibitions washed away along the chilly night breeze. He charged at the creature, movements jerky and awkward as they almost always were. And then he noticed the distance between it and himself getting smaller, far more quickly than it should have been. A burst of wind rushed over his face, becoming stronger every passing second, howling fiercely in his ears. Tim looked down at his feet and thought he must have been hallucinating, because his legs were almost a blur. Far sooner than he had expected, he was directly in front of the beast.

    It seemed as shocked as he was that he had drawn so near so fast, but it prised itself off of Jonathan and charged at Tim, who sidestepped it easily. The monster redoubled, attacking again, but Tim dodged every swipe of its paw, every flick of its tail. It was like the world around him had slowed down ¡ª or, it occurred to him at last, he had sped up.

    As the monster launched yet another futile swipe of its great paws, Tim took aim with the hammer and swung. The massive, block-like structure crashed into the creature¡¯s side. There was a sickening crunch and the beast flew across the field, its body rolling around like a rag doll.

    Tim came to a halt and heard the sound of something sizzling. He looked around for fire but there was no sign of any. Then the pungent aroma of burning leather met his nostrils and he looked down, and saw that the soles of his shoes had burned away. He stood, frozen in disbelief, until Jonathan groaned and Tim looked down at him, shivering in pain.

    ¡°Jon? Jon, are you okay?¡±

    He tried to speak, but his words were drowned in a gurgle of blood.

    ¡°Oh God.¡± Mr. Whitmore had appeared at his son¡¯s side. ¡°You¡¯re gonna be okay, Jonny. You¡¯ll start healing soon, just give it some time. Here, help me get him up. Tim? Tim?¡±

    Tim had frozen again, staring from Jonathan, whose mangled stomach was covered in blood, to the creature who lay several feet away with a shattered hindleg. It was trying to move, emitting pitiful squeaks of agony every time it failed, like an injured housecat.

    ¡°No no no no, don¡¯t feel sorry for it, Tim. Given the chance, even in its wounded state, it would probably tear you to shreds. Look what it did to Jonathan. You have to stay focused¡­ Tim!¡± he shouted, jolting him back to his senses.

    He tore his eyes away from the beast and knelt down beside Jonathan. He was just wondering what he was going to do with the hammer when it glowed again, but this time the red light was much softer, and it melted back into his glasses. Tim heaved a deep breath and slid them back onto the bridge of his nose, then seized one of Jonathan¡¯s arms. He was in terrible shape. The monster seemed to have worked its way across his torso like an omelet.

    ¡°He¡¯ll be fine,¡± Mr. Whitmore said as they hobbled back towards the road, the creature¡¯s piteous moans still trailing after them. Tim tried to block them out, but it was no use. The guilt stung at him like a hive of angry hornets.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we call an ambulance?¡± he asked, trying to ignore the sound.

    ¡°No need. He¡¯ll heal on his own, he just needs time. Besides, no hospital is going to be able to do anything about what that thing did to him.¡±

    Together, they painstakingly carried Jonathan¡¯s limp body up the grassy slope. They were almost back at the main road, apparently on their way to thumb a ride, but before they had even reached the asphalt, something touched down in front of them with a gentle gust of wind. First Tim noticed the man, taller than any of them, with a head of bright brown hair and brilliant blue eyes. The man¡¯s face was handsome, but marred by a thick scar that traced itself from just underneath his left eye all the way to his chin. He looked vaguely familiar.

    Far more curious though was the way he was dressed. He wouldn¡¯t have looked out of place at a Roman convention, wearing robes of deep red and eggshell-white, covered by plates of armour the same texture as the brightsteel hammer. And still that wasn¡¯t the strangest thing about this scene.

    That honour went to his horse ¡ª or at least, Tim thought it was a horse.

    The man was sitting astride it, and it bore an equine shape, but where fur and muscle and sinew should have been was what appeared to be a cloud of living, emerald, compact gas, swirling and undulating. With every fierce toss of its head, green wind trickled from its mane.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to call you for hours,¡± said Mr. Whitmore. He was staring at the man with an odd expression on his face, not really angry, but certainly not ecstatic to see him.

    ¡°Forgive me, but I do have other charges to tend to.¡±

    ¡°You¡­¡± It was Jonathan who spoke, his voice weak and hoarse. ¡°I¡­ I saw you. Outside that burger place.¡±

    The man¡¯s face broke into a smile, so wide and so bright that it seemed to illuminate his entire face; even the scar under his eye looked less gruesome for a moment. ¡°You certainly did, and I apologize if I frightened you. I was just checking in, I do that sometimes.¡±

    ¡°Wait, I¡¯ve seen you before!¡± Tim said suddenly. ¡°I saw you at my old primary school once, out in the courtyard.¡±

    ¡°Er ¡ª yes. I¡¯m not really supposed to meddle ¡ª¡±

    ¡°But you do anyway,¡± Mr. Whitmore said angrily.

    ¡°Sometimes I fear my desire to see you all overpowers common sense. But it is very good to meet you all in person at last. Lord Orus. Lord Lenos.¡± He jumped from the wind-horse and bowed low.

    ¡°Who?¡± Tim asked.

    ¡°He means you and Jonathan. The words you spoke when you activated your weapons aren¡¯t just random words. They¡¯re your god names, the names your parents gave you. And this is your parents¡¯ servant, the one I told you about, Sytris.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you have plenty of questions, but I¡¯m equally sure the monster braying in agony down there won¡¯t be the only one sent to look for you. It¡¯s time to go. The safehouse isn¡¯t too far from here.¡±

    The horse creature knelt, and Mr. Whitmore and Sytris helped Jonathan on top of it. Despite being living wind, it seemed to be rather solid, because Jonathan didn¡¯t come sliding off. It didn¡¯t completely alleviate Tim¡¯s worries of falling off of the creature mid-ride, but both men were beckoning him forward impatiently, and he obliged.

    It felt surprisingly solid, despite the fact the horse¡¯s body kept undulating in puffs of green smoke. Sytris jerked the reins, which were also long ropes of green wind, and the horse whinnied, which sounded like a blast from a shrill whistle. The beast turned and galloped off along the road. Then Tim noticed something. With every step they took the moon seemed to be inching closer. He looked down and noticed with a thrill of shock that they were ascending, as if the horse was climbing a set of invisible stairs.

    ¡°This steed is called Skylar,¡± said Sytris, who was watching him. ¡°A ventus. Loyal creatures made of wind that can climb air currents the same way horses of the mortal realm can ride across stone. And they¡¯re also exceptionally fast.¡±

    He was right. Tim turned his head slightly to gaze behind them, and despite only riding for a few moments, the green field they had fled was now a small patch on the ground behind them. The chill night air washed over them, causing Tim to shiver as he surveyed the ground beneath them. He could see small bodies of water glimmering in the moonlight, and the yellow and red lights of cars the size of puzzle pieces racing across the dark roads.

    ¡°This would be a lot cooler if the circumstances didn¡¯t suck,¡± Tim said.

    ¡°Tell me about it,¡± Mr. Whitmore agreed. ¡°So does this mean what we think it means?¡± he asked Sytris. ¡°They¡¯re really after them?¡±

    Sytris answered rather mournfully, ¡°I¡¯m afraid it does. I¡¯m sorry I couldn¡¯t be here sooner, but my attention has been rather divided. I¡¯ve had to be back and forth across the states trying to locate the others.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean? Weren¡¯t you supposed to be keeping track of all of us?¡±

    ¡°I tried to,¡± Sytris said, sounding a little irritated for the first time, as if offended Mr. Whitmore thought he wasn¡¯t doing his job properly. ¡°But not all the other parents have been as stable as you. Some of them have moved around quite a bit. It takes time to track five groups of people around the world when their express mission is to remain hidden.¡±

    ¡°And they¡¯re not answering any of my calls either. I got through to the Gibsons, though. They should be meeting us there.¡±

    ¡°Meeting us where exactly?¡± asked Jonathan, who seemed to be doing much better, although his skin was still pale and clammy.

    ¡°You¡¯re about to see. We¡¯re actually here,¡± Sytris said. Their slope declined, now heading downwards. In the distance, growing larger at an impressive rate, was a massive, powder-blue mansion. It had high, mullioned windows, an open floor plan, and a huge swimming pool glittering in the front yard. The ventus came to a halt in front of the driveway and they dismounted, Jonathan clutching his stomach.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯m a huge fan of flying.¡±

    ¡°Well that¡¯s a shame, considering Skylar is your ventus,¡± Sytris said.

    ¡°Wait, what?¡±

    Tim watched as the ventus shook her mane and nuzzled Jonathan, neighing contentedly. For a moment it looked like Jonathan didn¡¯t know how to react, but then he rubbed the side of her face.

    ¡°She was a birthday gift from your mother. Looks like she still remembers you.¡±

    ¡°Um, guys?¡± Tim said. Everyone looked at him and he pointed behind them. On the porch of the mansion was a pale-faced girl with long reddish-brown hair who was drinking something from a large brown coffee mug, which was frozen at her lips. Her eyes were widened and her mouth was open in shock.

    ¡°Who is that?¡± Jonathan asked.

    ¡°Boys, meet your sister, Iduna. Or, as she¡¯s called in this world, Haley.¡±

    ¡°Hi,¡± Jonathan and Timothy said together, waving awkwardly.

    The girl looked frightened and confused out of her mind, but returned the wave nonetheless.

    ¡°Have fun catching up,¡± said Sytris, turning back to the steed. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind, Lord Orus, I do have to borrow Skylar for a while.¡±

    ¡°Where are you going?¡±

    ¡°To find your other siblings.¡± With that, Sytris jerked the reins and the ventus turned towards the sky, climbing along the cold night air until she and her rider vanished from sight.

 Chapter 4: Ride Into Chaos

    Lauren was having a very bad day. Sure, things had gotten off to a pretty unpleasant start when she had overslept and ended up missing the Zoom meeting she¡¯d scheduled to discuss the Environmental Science club¡¯s annual summer trip across the countryside, as well as the appointment she¡¯d booked to have her nails and hair done, and even sending her breakfast up in smoke, but those were things she could manage, as disappointing as they were. However, things had taken a sharp turn from ¡°bad¡± to ¡°horrific¡± when a man riding a large horse made of what seemed to be green wind dropped out of the sky in front of her and professed himself to be an ally.

    Given that she was being chased by a massive, winged thing that she was sure she had only ever seen in cheesy old cartoons, she didn¡¯t have much of a choice in whether or not to accept his offer of help. On top of that, this man was somehow both strange and familiar at the same time.

    She was sure she had never met him before, but something about him felt familiar, as if non-existent memories of him were bubbling beneath the surface of her mind. Despite common sense screaming at her to steer clear of this man, Lauren allowed herself to be swept up along the steed¡¯s gaseous mane. Although it appeared to be a living cloud, the creature felt completely solid, like a block of concrete.

    Under different circumstances Lauren would probably have been in awe at the wondrousness of it all, but for right now her heart nearly jumped out of her chest as the horse turned and quite literally began to run into the sky, as if riding the very winds themselves.

    Somehow that thought made no sense and perfect sense at the same time, which only made Lauren angrier. This situation was just becoming more and more confusing.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± she shouted to the man in front of her, whose waist she was clinging onto for dear life; she didn¡¯t dare look down, her eyes straight ahead and desperately trying to keep her mind off of how high up they now were, and what would happen if they fell.

    ¡°I already knew that you wouldn¡¯t, but I still find it remarkably ironic that you don¡¯t remember me,¡± he shouted back as the horse galloped over a line of traffic down below. Lauren couldn¡¯t help herself. She glanced below as several confused and amazed cries rang out and saw the drivers staring up at them, jaws agape.

    She quickly turned her gaze away. ¡°Why is that ironic?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t really think this is the time for explanations, M¡¯lady. Our priority is surviving the night.¡±

    ¡°Just tell me who you are,¡± Lauren persisted. ¡°And why do you keep calling me ¡®M¡¯lady?¡¯¡±

    The man let out a resigned sigh. ¡°My name is Sytris.¡±

    ¡°Citrus? You mean like the fruits?¡±

    ¡°Sai-tris,¡± he enunciated over the wind rushing in their ears. ¡°And I was a good friend to your parents.¡±

    ¡°My parents never mentioned you before.¡±

    ¡°Well no, they couldn¡¯t have, seeing as they¡¯re dead,¡± Sytris said with a grimace.

    ¡°My parents are dentists. Their shifts end at 5, and they¡¯re going to notice I¡¯m missing when they get home!¡±

    ¡°I meant your birth parents, not your adopted ones.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking ¡ª¡±

    There was an angry screech and something came hurtling past them. The wind horse veered sideways with a neigh of indignation. Lauren shrieked as something cold and sharp as a butcher knife grazed her shoulder.

    ¡°Again, your questions are going to have to wait, M¡¯lady!¡± Sytris veered the reins downwards, now sending the horse galloping towards a little pub whose rowdy inhabitants could be heard even from this distance. The thing behind them, which she had believed they¡¯d shaken off their tail, was an ugly stone gargoyle with a wicked face and gleaming white eyes. It looked like a marble statue, which was exactly what she had thought it was before it had sprung to life nearly half an hour ago and began chasing her down the street.

    Its cold, lifeless eyes, steely talons and forked tail that swished angrily back and forth would not have been out of place in a horror movie, except Lauren was never a fan of horror movies.

    The horse kicked and whinnied once more as the gargoyle soared past them, slashing with its enormous talons. Sytris ducked, then threw something she couldn¡¯t make out in the dimness. The object, whatever it was, connected with the gargoyle¡¯s face, sending it hurtling into the darkness below. It disappeared moments later, swallowed by the darkness of the alley it had crashed into.

    ¡°Is it dead?¡± Lauren asked, though she felt like she knew the answer.

    ¡°No, like most magical creatures, gargoyles are extremely durable. It¡¯ll be back.¡±

    ¡°Then how do we get rid of it permanently?¡±

    ¡°Well, I believe that honour would fall to you. Would you mind removing your hairclip?¡±

    ¡°My ¡ª what?¡± Lauren¡¯s hand instinctively moved towards the back of her head, where her long dark hair was held neatly in place by an ornate, multicoloured butterfly clip. She owned a lot of hairclips, but this was by far her favourite. Even now she struggled to remember a time when she wasn¡¯t wearing it. By this point it had probably melded with her hair.

    ¡°Yes, that one. Remove it please.¡±

    ¡°Why would I do that?¡±

    ¡°You wanted to know how to kill the beast, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    Lauren glared at him, but her furious staring match was interrupted by the reappearance of the gargoyle. This thing just wouldn¡¯t quit. It was wailing like an upset child, but then Lauren noticed something. As the scene was illuminated by a patch of moonlight that they were passing through, she realized that the gargoyle¡¯s face looked different than before. Something about the carving of its mouth, almost as if it was smirking now as opposed to its original somber expression, and its eyes were now dark green. She was just wondering what had caused the change of its eye colour when yet another gargoyle emerged from below them, which she recognized as the one Sytris had just knocked away. All around them others were soaring up beside them too, gliding through the chilly night air.

    ¡°Did it call for reinforcements?¡± Lauren yelled, her voice rather higher pitched than normal.

    ¡°It seems so,¡± Sytris said dryly.

    Once again, though common sense was hissing at her not to, she decided to trust him. Desperate times and desperate measures, and all. Her sleek locks cascaded down her back as she removed her clip, careful to maintain a tight grip on it so it didn¡¯t go spiraling down into the dark alleys of New York City.

    ¡°What do I do now?¡±

    The horse careened downwards just as another gargoyle came soaring overhead, claws raking through the air. ¡°Hold it up and say, very clearly, the word ¡®Mnemosyne.¡¯¡±

    Another screech signalled the gargoyle¡¯s return, and before either could say another word, the winged beast came soaring around them and slammed into Sytris¡¯s chest. He was catapulted off the horse, tangled up with the gargoyle, who was scrabbling away at him like a mouse attacking a piece of cheese. The duo crashed on top of a nearby roof. Lauren screamed, flailing around as the horse began to kick and jerk violently in midair. Shrieking incoherently, she stowed the clip in her pocket and seized the reins, trying desperately to regain some form of control over the steed.

    Lauren pulled fiercely against the reins, and after several long, heart-pounding seconds, she managed to get the beast to resume its steady path. She wheeled around and set the horse on a path towards the roof where they had landed, her fear replaced by determination.

    Her eyes burning, she held out the clip and said, ¡°Mnemosyne!¡¯¡±

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    A warm green glow spread over the clip. It became so hot that it felt like her very flesh was melting under the heat. It took every ounce of willpower she had for her not to drop the clip, but it was worth it. Merely a second later the heat and the light both faded, and instead of the clip she was now holding a magnificent, gold-tipped spear with a sleek, greenish-grey shaft.

    The shaft was inscribed with many intricate markings, and it seemed to pulse with energy. Every touch of the metal was met with a soft spark, like electricity was coursing through it.

    ¡°Oh I am so keeping this,¡± Lauren said to herself, watching as the golden tip sparkled in the moonshine. With a whip of the reins she steered the horse down to where Sytris was still locked in combat with the gargoyle, who was now being aided by two more of its brethren.

    The remaining three were now on her tail, squawking like mutant bats. Sytris seemed to be holding his own fairly well, using something that looked like a mace to fend them off, but every now and then one of the creatures got close enough to slash him, and he let out a hiss of pain. Lauren twisted the spear in her hand to get a better grip, and with her other hand she held tightly to the reins. The horse¡¯s gallops, which sounded like whispers of wind blowing through an open window, led her directly into the heart of battle. Closer and closer she got, her own gargoyles still marking her very closely, until she was directly on top of Sytris and his foes. Somehow she knew what to do, although she had no idea how.

    She slammed the base of the spear down onto the rooftop, and a clap like thunder shook the very building. A bolt of electricity, fierce and golden like the rays of the sun, erupted from the point of contact, spiraling out like a spider¡¯s web.

    It was both magnificent and terrible. The lightning struck at every gargoyle, whose deafening screeches of agony filled the air as the electricity coursed through them. Their bodies exploded, leaving only traces of dust and stone and a smell of ozone in the air.

    ¡°Impressive,¡± Sytris said. His odd robes looked as if they had passed through a shredder, and his face and arms bore innumerable gashes that had rivulets of golden blood oozing out, but his face bore an expression of immense pride.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± she said. ¡°Now get me the hell out of here.¡±

    <hr>

    Within a few hours the hustle and bustle of New York City was behind them, and now they seemed to be entering a more rural region. The asphalt roads gave way to grassy fields, red dirt roads and clusters of trees. Lauren looked around, drinking in the sights; she had never been this far out before, even on her Environmental Science trips. The horse¡¯s direction changed now: instead of climbing higher, they seemed to be drawing steadily closer to the ground.

    ¡°I appreciate you rescuing me and all, but this is really not where I wanted to spend the first day of my summer vacation.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine, we¡¯re not staying long anyway.¡±

    ¡°Why are we even here?¡±

    ¡°To pick up the last of your siblings.¡±

    ¡°Here we go again,¡± Lauren groaned, rolling her eyes. ¡°First I¡¯m adopted and now I have long-lost siblings. Just great. Listen, how about you just let me off at the nearest bus stop? I¡¯ll be fine on my own after that.¡±

    ¡°I would never dream of it,¡± Sytris said, in a tone of mock incredulity. ¡°Abandoning you in the middle of the road! Your parents would have had my head if they ever discovered I even entertained the very thought.¡±

    ¡°My parents don¡¯t know you! I¡¯m pretty sure if they were friends with a guy who rides a flying horse they would have mentioned it at some point!¡±

    ¡°No, your adopted parents wouldn¡¯t have, because they were doing it to protect you.¡±

    ¡°Forget it!¡± Lauren said shrilly, throwing up a hand.

    ¡°I know you don¡¯t believe me, but I¡¯m telling you the truth. Melissa and Andrew Combs were very glad to take you in when you were younger, and I would never deny the fact that they have been wonderful parents to you for your whole life, but they are not your birth family. This isn¡¯t even your birth planet. You hail from a world called Algyria, a fruitful and beautiful dimension inhabited by gods.

    ¡°Gods who held dominion over all sorts of places and concepts. Weather; agriculture; seasons and the skies. Almost everything imaginable had a god who ruled over it.

    ¡°Unfortunately that changed when our barbaric neighbours invaded our homeland and slaughtered most of our people.¡±

    ¡°¡®Our people,¡¯¡± Lauren repeated in a scoffing tone. She had listened to everything he said with an eyebrow raised, her tone one of sheer disbelief.

    ¡°Yes. I told you earlier that I was a good friend to your parents, but I was also their trusted servant. When the dark gods raided our lands they tasked me with bringing you and your siblings to safety. But nowhere on Algyria would have been safe from those monsters. So I brought you here, to Earth. It was the least magical place I could find, so there was less chance of them tracking you here. And once I arrived, I began to scout for families I believed worthy enough to take you in, then I separated the five of you.

    ¡°It was one of the hardest things I¡¯d ever done, splitting up the only remaining legacies of the house I pledged my life to, but I would rather have seen the remnants of my masters¡¯ bloodline split up, unaware of their past, than dead. I kept watch over you five for years, sticking to the shadows as per my agreement with the parents who agreed to keep you.¡±

    ¡°Not that I believe a word of what you¡¯re saying, but if this is true, then what changed? You were so desperate to keep us apart and now you¡¯re trying to bring the gang back together? Why?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve noticed some disturbing signs,¡± said Sytris. ¡°It seems something is about to happen ¡ª though I¡¯m not entirely sure what.¡±

    ¡°Gee, that¡¯s helpful.¡±

    ¡°But either way, it wasn¡¯t my decision to bring you all back together. Fate is sometimes a wicked thing, and what she wants she will get. Two of your brothers met today, despite their parents¡¯ best efforts to remain apart. They were attacked not too long after, and the same thing happened to you.

    ¡°What we feared for over a decade has come to pass, so our only course of action now is to bring you back together and prepare you for the fight that is coming.¡±

    Lauren was silent, digesting the news. It was rather like swallowing a corkful of sour-tasting medicine. She wanted to laugh and scorn, to dismiss everything he was saying as nonsense, but they were quite literally riding a horse made of air across the countryside. It was pretty hard to dismiss his words as impossible given the circumstances, but it was still so hard to believe, much less to accept¡­.

    ¡°Buckle up,¡± said Sytris, after what felt like hours. ¡°We¡¯re approaching.¡±

    ¡°Approaching where?¡±

    ¡°Not where ¡ª who. Your brother, Nokk. But on this world, he¡¯s known as Oscar Medina.¡±

    The horse galloped to a halt, touching down on a pavement made of peach-coloured stone. Ahead of them was a cluster of small, square houses.

    ¡°You can wait here if you like,¡± said Sytris. ¡°If you need a minute to ¡ª¡±

    But Lauren was already sliding to the ground. For one, she was sick of flying ¡ª or riding through the sky, however you described it. And for another, a part of her was eager to meet this boy, the first of four supposed siblings whose existence had been kept from her.

    ¡°Which house is it?¡±

    Sytris looked mildly surprised, but in answer he pointed to a small house just across the street with a dull yellow paint job, flat roof, and a lawn in dire need of trimming. Lauren fixed her clip back into place, squared her shoulders and set off across the pale pavement, Sytris in tow.

    As they reached the front steps Lauren was surprised to see that there was light behind the windows. Well, she supposed that was better; at least they didn¡¯t have to force anyone out of their beds. Lauren raised a hand and after a moment¡¯s hesitation, rapped smartly against the wooden door.

    They waited for about two minutes but there was no response. Lauren looked at Sytris, who shrugged. She knocked again. Then after another two minutes she knocked again, far more roughly. At last the door opened.

    A tall boy with curly black hair emerged in a white tank top, with a single earring glittering at his left ear. He was handsome, but he had a rather dull look about him that matched his house. His bright green eyes were unfocused and he had bags underneath them.

    ¡°Can I help you?¡± he said. His voice was deep and husky, and his words were rather slurred. Coupled with the stench that had blasted them in the face when he opened the door Lauren had a strong feeling that she knew what had been happening here.

    ¡°Have you been drinking?¡± she asked, and even she was surprised by the sternness of her tone. She was forcibly reminded of her own mother.

    ¡°What, are you like a cop or something?¡± the boy asked, and even as he spoke he stumbled a little, having to lean on the door frame to remain upright. ¡°What¡¯s it to you?¡±

    ¡°I just ¡ª aren¡¯t you too young to be drinking?¡±

    ¡°Sorry Mom,¡± said the stranger, waving his arms in faux shame. ¡°It¡¯s midnight. What do you two want?¡±

    ¡°Oscar Medina?¡± Sytris said, stepping forward before Lauren could respond.

    ¡°One and only¡­ well, not really,¡± he said, screwing up his face. ¡°There¡¯s like two other Oscar Medinas in the city.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s very good to see you again, Oscar.¡±

    Oscar peered at him, as if trying to recall something. ¡°Have we met?¡±

    ¡°When you were very young, yes. My name is Sytris. And this¡± ¡ª he gestured at Lauren ¡ª ¡°is Lauren Combs. There is quite a hefty bit of explaining to do, but Lauren here is your sister. If your parents are home I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll be happy to vouch for everything I say. I know this will come as a bit of a shock, but neither of you come from this world, Oscar. You are both residents of another dimension, called Algyria. A place where gods are born and magic thrives.¡±

    Oscar gazed at them with an eyebrow raised, a crooked smirk on his lips. ¡°Magic?¡±

    ¡°It sounds unbelievable, I know. But believe me, if you would give us the chance we can explain everything.¡±

    ¡°Magic,¡± Oscar repeated, this time with a little giggle. ¡°You mean like this?¡± He wiggled his hand at his side, and a soft purple light began to spread from his fingers, like the fluid inside a glow stick. It rippled in the air, coiling and wriggling like worms, and before their very eyes it took shape, forming a perfect replica of a bright red apple in his palm. Oscar held it up, a look of childlike pride etched across his drunken face.

    Lauren stared, taken aback. She looked to Sytris, but if she had hoped for an answer she was out of luck. He too was gaping at Oscar, flabbergasted, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly like a fish out of water.

    Oscar opened the door a little wider behind him, still grinning. ¡°You guys want to talk inside?¡±

 Chapter 5: Homecoming

    If the mansion¡¯s exterior was superb, it was nothing compared to the inside. The hallways were lined with a magnificent red-and-gold carpet with silver trimming and crystal chandeliers glittered above them, dappling the floor with sparkles of white light. Two polished, mahogany staircases wound around the living room walls, leading to the upper rooms, each of which seemed to be larger than Tim¡¯s whole house. Even the furniture, made of meticulously crafted white velvet, seemed to gleam in the chandelier light.

    Jonathan, Timothy and Haley roamed through the halls, taking in the sights, while Tim filled Haley in on the details. Apparently she had not been told a single thing by her mother and father.

    The Gibsons were rather cold and stern-looking, and seemed to appreciate the situation as much as Jonathan¡¯s father had. They had instructed the kids to look around, which Tim understood to mean ¡°the adults need to talk, clear out.¡± While they walked Tim recounted everything that had happened since the moment the Whitmores¡¯ broken down vehicle sputtered into view. Haley, for her part, was a good listener. She allowed Tim the chance to speak uninterrupted, her only interjections being appropriately timed gasps.

    When finally Tim was done, Haley spoke, her voice low and disbelieving. ¡°You guys do realize how insane all of this sounds, don¡¯t you?¡±

    Jonathan scoffed. ¡°You¡¯re telling us? We rode here, across the sky, on a horse made of air. I literally had claw marks all across my chest until five minutes ago.¡± To drive the point home he lifted his blood-stained shirt to show his abdomen, where, sure enough, the skin had completely healed over. The only evidence that he had been injured at all were the splotches of blood left over. ¡°I think we¡¯re very past ¡®insane¡¯ at this point.¡±

    They paused, all three of them looking in different directions.

    ¡°So we¡¯re all siblings?¡± Haley asked.

    ¡°That¡¯s what they told us,¡± said Tim.

    ¡°And we¡¯re all gods?¡±

    ¡°Pretty much,¡± Jonathan answered.

    ¡°But¡­ gods of what, exactly?¡±

    Tim opened his mouth to respond and closed it almost immediately. He had never even thought to ask, and judging by the look on Jonathan¡¯s face, neither had he.

    ¡°Erm¡­¡±

    ¡°All the questions you asked them earlier and that one didn¡¯t come up once?¡±

    ¡°In our defense they probably wouldn¡¯t have told us anyway.¡±

    ¡°Plus we were trying to avoid being eaten alive by a murderous cat monster,¡± Jonathan added.

    ¡°Sounds like you guys had a pretty eventful afternoon. Meanwhile the most interesting thing that happened to me today is seeing an otter do a backflip on the way into town. I don¡¯t know why my parents wouldn¡¯t tell me anything, they just told me to pack a bag and jumped in the car. I tried asking them and they shut me down every time. And¡­ well, you just met them. You can probably imagine, it¡¯s not that easy arguing with them.¡±

    ¡°Maybe they¡¯re just waiting for the whole gang to get here,¡± said Tim. ¡°Apparently there are two more mystery siblings out there.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± asked Jonathan suddenly. He was pointing at Haley¡¯s hand, where a thin, silver bangle was gleaming at her wrist, studded with what looked like real diamonds.

    ¡°Oh this? It was a birthday gift.¡±

    ¡°How long have you had it?¡±

    Haley screwed up her face, as if trying to remember the exact date. ¡°I can¡¯t remember when I got it exactly, but I know I¡¯ve had it since I was a kid. At this point I don¡¯t think there was ever a time I wasn¡¯t wear¡­ wearing it¡­¡± She paused as comprehension dawned on her face, her eyes moving from Tim¡¯s glasses to Jonathan¡¯s ring, and her jaw slowly fell open. ¡°You don¡¯t think this is¡­?¡±

    ¡°Only one way to find out.¡±

    ¡°He said your god name was ¡®Iduna.¡¯ Hold up the bracelet and say that name,¡± Tim said.

    ¡°That¡¯s crazy. You think that¡¯s actually going to work?¡±

    ¡°Would it hurt to try?¡±

    ¡°Most likely,¡± Haley said. There was a short pause, then she said, ¡°Fine, let¡¯s do it.¡± While they watched, Haley slid the bangle from her wrist. She took a deep breath and breathed the word, ¡°¡®Iduna.¡¯¡±

    As they had expected, the object began to glow. But unlike the brilliant blue of Jonathan''s ring, or the violent red of Tim''s, this time it was a piercing silver, like a ray of purest moonlight. When the light died down, Haley was no longer holding her bangle. Instead it had melted into twin tessen fans, with heavy metal spokes protruding from the edges and ribs made of the same green-grey metal, Brightsteel.

    ¡°Wow,¡± Haley whispered, unfolding the fans and examining them. The ribs were decorated with patterns of different flowers: cherry blossoms, daffodils and roses.

    ¡°Fans?¡± Jonathan asked, reaching out to rub his finger against one of the spokes. ¡°Ow!¡± He yanked his hand back immediately, flashing his finger. ¡°I barely touched it!¡± he said furiously, holding up his index finger, where a dot of blood had pooled up.

    ¡°Okay, definitely a keeper,¡± said Haley, her bright brown eyes widened in amazement.

    ¡°So does that mean you believe us?¡± Tim asked.

    Haley looked up at them, expression caught somewhere between reluctance and wonder. ¡°I mean, come on¡­ Even with this it¡¯s still a hard pill to swallow. Gods and monsters, magic, finding out you have four siblings after being told you were an only child for over a decade.¡±

    ¡°Tell me about it,¡± muttered Timothy. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s never really torn me up inside, but I do admit the idea of having siblings is pretty interesting.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Jonathan asked, an eyebrow raised.

    ¡°Yeah. Have you never thought about it?¡±

    ¡°Nope,¡± he replied, with no hesitation. ¡°Not once in sixteen years. As much as I give my dad a hard time, we¡¯ve only had each other for ten years. Aside from my mom, that was really all I ever needed.¡±

    Despite the fact that Jonathan clearly didn¡¯t mean any ill intent by his words, Tim felt rather stung. He knew he had every right to feel that way, but hearing the words spoken aloud still felt like a blow to the gut. He racked his brain, trying to think of something to say to break the awkward silence, but he was spared the trouble of answering by his phone¡¯s ring tone suddenly filling the enormous hallway.

    Though he had finally gotten past the shock of what had happened a few hours ago, his heart began to pound again.

    He turned down the hall and swiped the answering button. ¡°Hello?¡±

    ¡°Oh, thank God.¡± His mother¡¯s voice, breathless with relief and sounding close to tears, answered. ¡°Tim, are you okay? I¡¯ve been so worried. Alan left me a million voicemails but I was stuck in the ER, three surgeries back to back, I didn¡¯t even get a chance to pick up my phone until now. What happened when you were home today? Did you get to the safehouse all right? Was anyone injured? Did you see any monsters ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Mom, I¡¯m fine,¡± Tim said, letting out a small laugh. Somehow hearing her so nerve-wracked was actually helping to calm him down. ¡°We all got to the safehouse okay. We were attacked on the way but we managed to get out fine ¡ª well, mostly fine.

    ¡°You should have seen it, Mr. Whitmore was amazing. He used a shotgun to hold the creature off, and I managed to take it down with my glasses, it transformed into this massive hammer. Sytris showed up after that and brought us to the safehouse.¡±

    ¡°Oh God,¡± she said. ¡°Tim I¡¯m so, so sorry. This was never how you should have found out, you deserved to hear the truth a long time ago. I¡¯m sorry we never told you, but we just thought¡­ you were so happy. You would have been crushed to find out that the place you came from was destroyed, or that you had family out there you could never meet.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine, Mom. Really.¡± Tim found it much easier to lie to her than he normally would have, although it still weighed heavy on his chest.

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    ¡°Listen, I¡¯m on my way up there right now. It¡¯s just another few hours¡¯ drive. And I told your father too, he¡¯s taking the first flight back tomorrow morning.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good to hear,¡± Tim said, and he truly meant it. ¡°But are you going to be okay? What if another monster shows up while you¡¯re on the way?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about us. Sytris warned us what we would be getting into twelve years ago, and he told us a few ways to protect ourselves. Just worry about yourself for now, okay?¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡±

    His mother took several deep, steadying breaths. ¡°Oh, my battery¡¯s about to die, I have to go. But before that, tell me what are they like? Your ¡ª your siblings?¡±

    Tim was smiling from ear to ear now. ¡°They¡¯re pretty cool. I¡¯ve only met Jon and Haley so far, but they¡¯re okay.¡±

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s nice. I knew they were in good hands, the Gibsons and the Whitmores were so nice. So were the Combses. It¡¯s the Medinas I was worried about. I don¡¯t want to badmouth your brother¡¯s family, but they were a little eccentric to put it nicely. Honestly I wondered¡­ but if Sytris thought they were a good fit, who am I to judge?¡±

    ¡°Why? What are the Medinas like?¡±

    ¡°Oh you¡¯ll see,¡± she said, and for the first time there was a hint of amusement in her voice now. ¡°I have to go, Tim. I¡¯ll see you tomorrow, okay? Love you.¡±

    ¡°Love you too.¡±

    The line disconnected. It was a moment before Tim realized he was still smiling at his phone. As he was stowing it in his pocket, footsteps heralded Jonathan¡¯s return. He jammed his thumb back down the corridor they had come. ¡°New arrivals,¡± he said.

    A flush of interest suffused Tim¡¯s whole being. Were these the last two siblings? How would they react to the situation? What were the Medinas like?

    He, Haley and Jonathan headed back upstairs, where they could hear voices in the living room. A girl with black hair held up by a decorative hairclip stood at the front of the small group, looking around. She was pretty, but she was wearing an expression of unease and skepticism. Beside her stood a tall boy with curly black hair, who in stark contrast looked completely at ease. A little too at ease, Tim noticed. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he saw that the boy¡¯s eyes looked rather red.

    Between them stood Sytris, a woman with scraggly, unkempt, blonde hair and a man with a badly styled mullet, who was wearing a similar expression to the boy. Tim had a strong feeling these were the Medinas.

    Mr. Gibson, a short man with a head of greying hair and what seemed to be a permanent scowl, opened his mouth to speak but didn¡¯t get a single word out.

    As if on cue, Tim¡¯s glasses suddenly lit up again, blazing scarlet. It really was extraordinarily inconvenient how a tool that was supposed to improve his eyesight kept trying to blind him. He hastily pulled it from his face and saw, although his vision was less clear than before, Jonathan¡¯s ring litup, pulsing sapphire. The girl who had entered with Sytris whipped her head around and pulled off her hairclip, which was glowing bright emerald; Haley¡¯s bangle flickered silver; and an ornate necklace at the boy¡¯s throat started flickering violet. It continued for a few seconds, then all five objects fell still.

    ¡°The last time that happened a giant cat tried to maul me afterwards,¡± Jonathan said.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯re safe this time. This house isn¡¯t just aesthetically pleasing, you know. It¡¯s imbued with layers upon layers of magical safeguards,¡± Sytris said. ¡°The only things that can cross these borders are what we want to.¡± He looked around and his eyes came to focus on Mr. Gibson, who was glaring at him. ¡°Hello Charles,¡± he said pleasantly.

    ¡°¡¯Hello¡¯? That¡¯s all you have to say?¡± barked Mr. Gibson. ¡°I thought you told us we were fine? That we wouldn¡¯t have to worry about any of this as long as we laid low and kept moving? Now you decide to pop up out of the blue and turn our lives upside down?¡±

    ¡°You make it sound as if this was intentional,¡± Sytris said, an eyebrow raised. ¡°I warned you years ago that this was always a possibility. No matter how many precautions you took, there was always a chance that we would end up right back here.¡±

    ¡°And how did we end up here, exactly?¡± the girl with the hairclip asked. ¡°I thought you said all five groups took every measure possible to stay out of each other¡¯s way?¡±

    ¡°True, but some things are simply beyond our control. No matter how hard we tried, if this was Destiny¡¯s will there was no way to avoid it. All we could do was delay it. But however it happened, it did. Pandora¡¯s box has been opened and there¡¯s no shutting it now. The only thing we can do is prepare ourselves for what is coming.¡±

    Mr. Gibson scoffed. ¡°Prepare ourselves for what? Our funerals?¡±

    ¡°I agree with Charles,¡± Mr. Whitmore said. ¡°As surprising as that is. You said these Harbingers killed their parents. Other gods who were far more experienced and powerful than they are, how could they possibly stand a chance? Be reasonable, Sytris.¡±

    ¡°I am being reasonable, and the answer is quite plain: they work together. With their gifts, and my tutelage, I believe they can triumph.¡±

    Mr. Gibson threw up his hands and raised his eyes to the heavens, as if saying, ¡°Here we go again.¡±

    Sytris ignored this. ¡°I believe in them. They¡¯re young, intelligent, powerful, and they have one of the strongest bonds to ever exist. The bond of family ¡ª¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re a family,¡± Mr. Gibson said, gesturing at his wife. ¡°Us and our daughter, Haley.¡±

    ¡°She was never your daughter,¡± Sytris said, and his voice was suddenly as cold as a midnight draft. The room fell silent. ¡°Iduna is the daughter of Cyclomene, goddess of ice and snow, and Razen, god of the morning sky. I asked you¡± ¡ª he turned, speaking to the room at large now ¡ª ¡°to keep watch over these children, to nurture and guide them, and to protect them. And you agreed. But they were never your children. And when I explained this to you twelve years ago, you said you understood. Clearly I was lied to.¡±

    Mr. Whitmore and the Gibsons stared daggers at him. The Medinas, however, looked as if they were unsure where they even were or why they were there.

    ¡°Don¡¯t we get a say in this?¡± asked the girl with the hairclip.

    ¡°Certainly, M¡¯lady.¡± Sytris turned to her at once, his aggressive expression melting at once into polite formality.

    The girl made a noise of displeasure in her throat, but continued nonetheless. ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s fair to say they¡¯re not our parents. They may not be our birth parents, but they¡¯re still our parents. They¡¯re the ones who raised us, who looked out for us, who taught us right from wrong ¡ª¡± At this she glanced at the Medinas and hesitated. ¡°Well, most of us. And above all else, they love us. Having the same blood makes you related, but it doesn¡¯t automatically make you family.¡±

    Sytris was frowning at her, but not as if he was angry with her. He looked confused, as if he hadn¡¯t expected her to take such a stance. Silence descended once more, but Mr. Whitmore was actually smiling at the girl now.

    ¡°I believe,¡± Sytris said, and he spoke as though the words cost him a great effort, ¡°that we should respect all perspectives in this argument. Which means we should resume this conversation when the Bryants and Combses arrive tomorrow. Their views deserve to be heard as well.¡±

    ¡°And what happens if they agree with her too?¡± asked Jonathan.

    ¡°Then we shall cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, I suppose some introductions are in order. This is your elder sister, Lady Mnemosyne,¡± he said, pointing to the girl with the hairclip, who shot him a furious look. ¡°Er ¡ª who prefers to be addressed by her mortal name, Lauren Combs. This is Lord Nokk, otherwise known as Oscar Medina.

    ¡°And these,¡± he said, extending his hand to the other three, ¡°are Lord Lenos, Lady Iduna, and Lord Orus. Also known as Timothy Bryant, Haley Gibson, and Jonathan Whitmore.¡±

    ¡°Hi,¡± Tim said. Jonathan nodded and Haley smiled. Lauren returned a small wave, but Oscar actually moved forward and seized each of them in a brief, one-armed hug, clapping their shoulders. If the red eyes and dopey smile weren¡¯t enough of a giveaway, the smell of smoke on his clothes certainly was.

    ¡°I have a question,¡± Haley said, once the introductions were done. ¡°You said we were gods, but gods of what?¡±

    ¡°I was about to come to that,¡± Sytris said, clapping his hands. ¡°Funnily enough, in our land your heritage has almost no bearing on what powers one is born with. Every god, and their dominion, is different. Lord Nokk, would you mind?¡±

    Oscar headed over to him, his silly grin still in place. Sytris whispered something to him while everyone else watched on, skeptical. Finally Oscar straightened up, and his smile was even wider than ever. Tim recoiled, stunned, as he noticed that his hands were now glowing, strands of purple energy billowing from his fingers. First he pointed at Jonathan. The energy streamed from his hands, accumulating over the top of Jonathan¡¯s head. He looked up, looking slightly alarmed. The energy took shape, forming a ball of white light like a miniature sun.

    ¡°Oh, I get it. It¡¯s a clue,¡± said Mr. Medina, speaking for the first time in a completely dazed voice.

    Jonathan inclined his head at the ball, scrutinizing it. ¡°God of¡­ the sun? Wait no¡­ God of light?¡±

    Sytris nodded, smiling.

    The glowing orb dissipated and the energy reformed over Haley¡¯s head. An image of a forest appeared, full of luscious trees, various animals and an array of colourful flowers.

    ¡°Nature?¡± Haley asked.

    Mrs. Gibson nodded at her, although her father still looked displeased. Once again the vision transitioned, this time coming to hover over Timothy¡¯s head. It was a little bronze figure, running so fast its legs were blurred. Tim stared at it, cocking his head from side to side. He remembered the fight a few hours before, when he had been running towards the cat creature. How it had seemed so far away, then only a moment later was directly in front of him.

    ¡°God of¡­ god of speed?¡± he asked.

    Oscar gave him a thumbs up, then turned at last to Lauren. Above her head was an image that looked as if it had been ripped from an old movie. It was a grey and white vision of a family sitting around a small table, their faces indistinct. The others had been somewhat straightforward, but this one gave absolutely no hints away. Judging by the others¡¯ faces, they weren¡¯t having much luck either. Lauren, however, was gazing into the scene, completely absorbed¡­

    ¡°Memory,¡± she said softly. ¡°This is a memory, right?¡±

    Sytris nodded, his smile wider than ever.

    ¡°How the heck did you get memory from that?¡± Jonathan said.

    ¡°I just¡­¡± Lauren looked around at them, her expression anxious. ¡°Lucky guess?¡±

    That absolutely wasn¡¯t the case, Tim thought. But he couldn¡¯t see why Lauren would feel the need to lie.

    Before anyone could say anything else, Sytris spoke again. ¡°And, I¡¯m sure you may all have guessed by now, Lord Nokk is the god of illusions. You may also have noticed he seems quite adept at the use of his powers, despite none of you having the slightest bit of knowledge of your own. It seems Oscar¡¯s parents were quite open about your previous experiences.¡± His gaze shifted to the Medinas, his expression caught somewhere between disapproval and amusement.

    ¡°In this house you have no need to conceal your magical identities, which means you¡¯re free to remove the items restricting your powers. Once you do, your own abilities should surface shortly after. Tomorrow you can test your limits freely. For now, I suppose it¡¯s your bedtime.¡±

 Chapter 6: Uncomfortable Truths

    Haley couldn¡¯t sleep. How could she, with all that had been said before, and with the prospect of what she may hear tomorrow? Her brain was in overdrive, leaping across each piece of information she had heard with speed so alarming it almost made her dizzy. Goddess of nature¡­ monsters¡­ four siblings¡­ corrupted gods who wanted them dead¡­

    She had hours to digest the news, and yet she still couldn¡¯t process it. No matter how hard she tried it still seemed so¡­ Haley frowned, struggling to find the appropriate word to describe the situation. Eventually she settled on ¡°insane,¡± despite Jonathan saying that they were well past that point. She rolled over in bed, looking at the alarm clock perched on the table to her right. 11:49 glowed back at her in bright scarlet, reminding her of the red glare that had flared from Tim''s glasses.

    ¡°Ugh!¡± She thrust her pillow over her face. No matter how much she tried to avoid the subject it kept bubbling back up to the surface of her mind.

    Haley lay indecisive for a moment, then threw off the pillow as she finally came to her decision. Hastily tying her hair into a messy ponytail, she rose, tried to find her slippers and gave up, and exited the room barefoot. The mansion looked as resplendent as ever, even though most of the hallways were now shrouded in darkness. She moved so quickly and so quietly it was almost as if she was gliding across the floor, her footsteps muffled by the opulent carpet.

    She passed through the corridors uninterrupted, but came to an abrupt halt mere moments later. The sound of her own name had caused her to freeze.

    ¡°¡­ won¡¯t allow it. If he thinks he¡¯s going drop Haley in the middle of some magical war, he¡¯s got another thing coming. The others, fine, if they want to. But not her.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not saying I disagree with you, but what are you even planning to do? He¡¯s not going to let us waltz through the front door. What happens when he tries to stop you? Are you going to fistfight him like a fourth grader?¡±

    ¡°So we just roll over and do nothing then?¡± her father said in a furious whisper.

    ¡°No, I¡¯m saying we have to be smart about this. If we do manage to get out somehow, we¡¯ll have to spend the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders. Do you really think he won¡¯t track us all over the world, trying to get her back? You heard him, he doesn¡¯t even consider us their real parents.¡±

    ¡°Delusional is what he is. Obsessed with his old masters. Thinks the sun shone out of their as ¡ª¡±

    Haley let out a small gasp that she quickly stifled with her hands. Her father had moved unexpectedly towards the door, and she slid out of the way just in time. The door pressed in even further and the latch was bolted. Deciding it was better to avoid any more close calls, she turned and hurried out to the kitchen which was thankfully deserted.

    The enormous, double-doored fridge held a variety of drinks. Her eyes swept over iced teas, milk shakes, fruit juices, chilled wines, and many others. Eventually she settled on a glass of coconut water and emerged outside, ready to soak in the glorious full moon and enjoy the cool breeze.

    It seemed someone else had had the same idea as well.

    ¡°Oh. Hi.¡± Lauren also had a drink with her, but it was a steaming mug of mint tea judging by the smell. ¡°I couldn¡¯t sleep either. It¡¯s pretty overwhelming, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Overwhelming is an understatement,¡± Haley said, taking a seat beside her. She would have preferred to be alone, but she was also intrigued by the people who she now had to call her siblings. One conversation wouldn¡¯t hurt, right? ¡°Talk about a bombshell.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re telling me,¡± said Lauren. A few yards away from her, the green aeriform horse that Sytris, Mr. Whitmore and the boys had ridden in on was kneeling on the ground, its mane billowing in the gentle breeze. It had been an enormous shock seeing them all touch down from the sky, but Lauren seemed to be completely unfazed by the bizarreness of the whole situation.

    ¡°Can you believe just a few hours ago I was panicking over the fact that I missed the meeting for my Environmental Science club¡¯s summer trip, and now apparently I¡¯m a goddess who was forced to flee her home by vengeful deities who want me dead even though I¡¯ve never heard of them my whole life. Talk about a plot twist.¡±

    ¡°A few hours ago I was watching cheesy romance movies with my hand buried in a bucket of popcorn and microwaved cheetos. You don¡¯t have to tell me about plot twists.¡± They each took a sip of their drinks, the only sound that pierced the still night for a few moments. Eventually, Haley spoke again.

    ¡°So¡­ I mean¡­ I don¡¯t think any of us could have expected this ¡ª well, maybe except for Oscar ¡ª but what do you think about it?¡±

    Lauren turned to face her, her bright green eyes reflected in the moonlight. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Well, finding out the Harbingers exist and want us dead isn¡¯t fun. But the idea that we¡¯re actually divine beings, that we have a whole other family out there, isn¡¯t it interesting to you in the slightest?¡±

    ¡°Tragic is the word I¡¯d use,¡± Lauren said. ¡°Home world destroyed, parents dead, kept apart from your siblings for over a decade, lunatic gods trying to kill you for no logical reason. What part of this whole ordeal is in any way appealing to you?¡±

    Haley didn¡¯t respond immediately. It wasn¡¯t as if she hadn¡¯t considered that aspect ¡ª it was the whole reason she was still awake, after all. But she supposed the hopeless optimist in her was trying to see the bright side, although it seemed it wasn¡¯t as luminous as she¡¯d imagined.

    ¡°Well when you put it like that¡­¡±

    ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t mean to be a killjoy.¡±

    ¡°No no, you¡¯re not.¡± Lauren looked at her, eyebrow raised. ¡°Well yeah, you kinda are.¡± Lauren snorted with laughter and Haley let out a small giggle. For the first time that whole night, she felt a bit of the tension knotted in her chest unwind.

    ¡°It¡¯s just ironic, you know. Next semester was supposed to be my last, and then I was supposed to go to college, become a dentist and build the perfect life. The plan was all set, the foundation was built, and then this comes out of nowhere and ruins everything.¡±

    Haley sat up a little straighter, her eyebrows knitting together. ¡°You wanted to be a dentist too?¡±

    ¡°Well it makes the most sense,¡± Lauren said, as if this was obvious. ¡°My parents are dentists, and they own their office, which gets a good amount of traffic. I¡¯d be certain to have a job at the end of the day.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t really answer the question though. Is becoming a dentist what you want, or was that something you chose because it was the simplest route?¡± Lauren was silent as she contemplated the question, but the expression on her face gave rise to a whole new perspective entirely. ¡°Did you even choose? Or is this what your parents wanted to you do?¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Lauren gave a little laugh, which Haley thought she meant to be dismissive but came out rather strained. ¡°Of course this was my decision. I chose it because it had the most desirable long-term effects. It¡¯s the quickest, most secure route to success.¡±

    ¡°Quickest route to Mommy and Daddy¡¯s approval, more like,¡± Haley said under her breath.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Nothing.¡± Haley took a sip of her drink.

    Lauren sat up a little straighter in her chair, her expression cold. ¡°And what about you then? Got your whole life figured out, do you?¡±

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t,¡± Haley said in a dignified tone. ¡°I¡¯m still considering my options.¡±

    Through the corner of her eyes she saw Lauren roll her eyes.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see anything wrong with that. Life is full of twists and turns, even without the magical ones. Putting all of your focus into a single path is dumb. Nothing is set in stone; everyone should have a fallback plan.¡±

    ¡°Fallback plans are for when your first option doesn¡¯t pan out the way you intended, and the first option is usually what you want to happen anyway. They aren¡¯t made on the basis of plowing through life like a wheat field and hoping things turn out okay, which is pretty much what you¡¯re saying.¡±

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°No it isn¡¯t,¡± Haley snapped. ¡°All I¡¯m saying is that for all your planning, there¡¯s no logical way to map out your whole life before you even graduate high school. There¡¯s too many variables.¡±

    ¡°Maybe in your life. The rest of us probably have a bit more order in ours.¡±

    Before she even knew it, Haley was on her feet, her coconut water slopping a little over the side of her cup. ¡°And what¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±

    Lauren also stood up, but unlike Haley she calmly set her mug down on the saucer she had brought with her and looked down at her sister with a rather haughty look on her face. ¡°I¡¯m just saying, we all saw what your parents are like earlier. Maybe if you had a stronger support system, you would actually have a clear vision of where you want to go.¡±

    With that, she turned and walked back into the house. Haley stared after her, her eyes digging holes into the back of her blouse. She could hear blood pumping in her ears.

    Her heart was racing, but even as fiercely as it was thudding against her chest she could hear the leaves of the trees in the background rustling, even though there was no breeze. Haley looked around and saw the branches flailing madly, as if the trees were shaking their fists in rage. Her anger turned to confusion, and slowly the leaves began to settle. The angry rustling stopped completely, and as she observed the sight open-mouthed, she remembered. ¡°Goddess of nature¡­¡±

    Did I do that? she wondered.

    Haley knew she shouldn¡¯t have allowed Lauren¡¯s dig to upset her the way it had, but the comment about her parents had hit a little too close to home. The way she had managed to guess so accurately what her home life was like from a single interaction was like a blow to the stomach. True, Charles and Penelope Gibson weren¡¯t the most nurturing and gentle parents, but they were loving.

    As far as Haley was concerned they simply wanted the best for her. Sure, sometimes that meant they would often disagree about what exactly was best for her, but she knew, beneath their hard exteriors, there was love and pride for their daughter.

    What did Lauren know? All she had was a bird¡¯s eye view of the situation.

    She had never seen the evenings her and her father had spent, laughing as they got splotches of paint all over their faces as he taught her how to paint. Or how she and her mother often had to flee the smell of acrid smoke from burnt goodies as she learnt how to bake, giggling as they cracked open windows and rushed to shut off the smoke detector. She held those days close to her heart, and no matter how many arguments they had she would never let go of them.

    For a supposed goddess of memory, Lauren knew nothing.

    Haley took a deep breath to settle herself, finished her drink, and went back inside, shutting the door behind her rather harder than she had meant to.

    <hr>

    Somewhere around midnight, Haley finally managed to fall asleep. By the time she woke up the sun was out and blazing through her curtain. A knock sounded on her door and a voice she recognized as Tim¡¯s informed her that breakfast was ready. He sounded in much higher spirits than yesterday.

    ¡°Coming,¡± she called back sleepily. It took a while for the last vestiges of sleep to leave her body and for her to muster up enough willpower to leave her bed and finish getting ready.

    Determinedly avoiding the subject of last night¡¯s conversation, she entered the dining room, where she noticed more chairs at the table than there were people in the house. She furrowed her brow in confusion, but then she noticed the newcomers. Tim was now surrounded by a handsome man with sleek, pushed back hair, deepset brown eyes and a strong jaw, who was wearing a neat black jacket with a dark blue tie. Beside him was a woman who was shorter than both Tim and the other gentleman, who was wearing a bright blue nurse¡¯s uniform. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her face, pale and heart-shaped, looked rather tired. Judging by the way she was fussing over Tim, who was exasperatedly repeating that he was fine yet still smiling slightly, Haley guessed that these must be the Bryants.

    Not too far from them were Lauren and her own parents. The Combses were a respectable-looking couple. Mr. Combs was tall and strongly built, wearing highly polished shoes, an immaculately tailored brown suit and a neatly shaven beard. Mrs. Combs on the other hand was tall and willowy, wearing an elegant white dress that seemed to flow over her like water. She wore glasses, but underneath them her eyes were a vibrant green.

    Lauren glanced around and her eyes settled on Haley for a fraction of a second, then passed right over her as though she was nothing more than an ornament on the wall. Haley ignored this, moving instead to the dining table, where Sytris was dishing out plates of a variety of sumptuous meals. Each family broke up their own discussions and moved to take seats at the table.

    Tim and the Bryants, Haley and her parents, Lauren and the Combses, Oscar and the Medinas, who all looked as completely out of it as they did last night, and Jon and Mr. Whitmore. There was an empty chair to Mr. Whitmore¡¯s right.

    Haley felt a wave of sadness pass through her as she looked at the chair. Under different circumstances, Mrs. Whitmore would have been sitting there.

    Only after all the diners were seated did Sytris take his seat, beaming at them all.

    ¡°Good morning, all. I do believe we agreed yesterday that we would continue our discussions when everyone had arrived. And here we all are.¡±

    ¡°Almost all of us,¡± said Mr. Bryant, expression somber. ¡°I¡¯m truly sorry, Alan.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be,¡± Mr. Whitmore said, with a sad smile. ¡°She¡¯s here in the ways that matter.¡±

    He put his hand on Jonathan¡¯s shoulder. Haley half expected him to throw it off, but he merely placed his own hand on top of it.

    ¡°But don¡¯t worry about us,¡± Mr. Whitmore continued in a more businesslike tone. ¡°We all know why we¡¯re here. The kids know everything, and now we know for certain that they¡¯re being targeted. What we have to do now is decide our next course of action.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think there¡¯s much of a decision, is there?¡± Mr. Combs said, his wine glass hovering an inch from his lips and an expression of surprise on his face. ¡°They¡¯re in danger. They have to learn how to defend themselves.¡±

    ¡°Well I¡¯m glad at least one of you agrees,¡± Sytris said. ¡°But apparently common sense is divisive.¡±

    He was petty. Haley liked that.

    ¡°No one is disputing the fact that they¡¯re in danger,¡± said her father, with a flicker of irritation. ¡°But the idea is to ensure that they remain safe, not meet the danger head on. They¡¯re not superheroes. Surely there must be a way to ensure that they can adequately protect themselves without inviting the Harbingers to kill them? I don¡¯t think it¡¯s unreasonable to want that.¡±

    ¡°And what do you propose, Charles?¡± Mr. Combs asked. ¡°The jig is up. The magical concealers won¡¯t protect them forever, they were never going to. Even if they wear the accessories at some point the spell hiding them will fade. And how do you expect them to just go on living their lives knowing that they have siblings out there? Surely they deserve the chance to get to know each other?¡±

    ¡°And they can, there¡¯s this wonderful invention of the 20th century, Samuel. It¡¯s called a cell phone. You wouldn¡¯t believe the wonders it can accomplish.¡±

    Mr. Combs rolled his eyes.

    ¡°I have a question,¡± Jonathan said.

    ¡°What is it, Jonny?¡± Mr. Whitmore asked, clearly glad to change the subject.

    ¡°You said all of this started twelve years ago. I¡¯m seventeen, and from what we gathered: Tim and Haley are fifteen and Oscar is nineteen. I know kids don¡¯t tend to remember much about their childhood, but I don¡¯t see how all of us forgot everything about the siblings we supposedly spent years with.¡±

    A very awkward silence fell.

    Mr. Medina let out a rather high-pitched laugh. ¡°See, they are smarter than you give them credit for, Charles.¡± Haley¡¯s father stared daggers at him, but Mr. Medina looked completely unconcerned. ¡°You¡¯re right, Jonah. To make the separation easier, your memories of everything prior to twelve years ago were removed.¡±

    Haley¡¯s jaw dropped. The others around the table looked aghast.

    ¡°That¡­ that¡¯s a major violation,¡± Tim said. ¡°How could anyone even think to do that?¡±

    ¡°Try to understand, Tim,¡± said Mrs. Combs. ¡°The only way to ensure your safety was to completely sever any ties you had to your previous life. If any of you knew, then you would have been crushed. Not to mention you probably would have done everything you could to reconnect with your siblings, and you all saw what happens whenever you get in close proximity. The plan hinged on blending you in with the mundane, leaving no magical signature behind so that you would be untraceable by the people that destroyed your home.¡±

    ¡°And why couldn¡¯t we all have just stayed here? You said this place is completely secure. Why did we have to leave?¡±

    ¡°Sounds like an extremely cruel and manipulative thing to do,¡± Haley said. ¡°Erasing our whole childhoods. Who even came up with this dumb plan?¡±

    ¡°Your birth parents did,¡± Sytris said softly. The room fell silent once more. ¡°Lady Cyclomene and Lord Razen gave me their orders and I swore to follow them. There was no way around it.¡±

    For almost a whole minute the only sound in the room was the clink of the Medinas forks and knives against their plates.

    ¡°So all our memories are gone?¡± Jonathan asked. ¡°Forever? That¡¯s not fair to any of us.¡±

    ¡°Gone? No, and certainly not forever. Memories cannot truly be erased. Even if they¡¯re removed from your general consciousness, they do exist within your subconscious. At least, traces of them. Think of the memories like this.¡± Sytris held up a cup. ¡°Whole. Solid. Clear. When a memory is removed, a kind of outline is left behind, like the ghost of a memory. Dark and formless, but never truly gone. Just like if this cup is shattered fragments will remain.¡±

    ¡°So they¡¯re locked away in our head somewhere?¡± Tim asked.

    ¡°Precisely.¡±

    ¡°And how do we get them out?¡±

    ¡°We cannot,¡± said Sytris, and his gaze shifted to Lauren, who seemed to be shrinking in her seat.

    Lauren pointed at herself, as if asking, ¡°Me?¡±

    ¡°Of course. You are the goddess of memory.¡±

    ¡°Only because you said so five minutes ago! I don¡¯t know how to restore erased memories.¡±

    ¡°And that¡¯s fine,¡± he said patiently. ¡°I can teach you. I can teach all of you. By now, your powers should start returning in full capacity after removing your weapons. I can teach you what you need to learn to control them. In fact, if it¡¯s all right with everyone, we can begin as early as after breakfast.¡±

    Haley¡¯s father did not hesitate. He opened his mouth immediately to protest, but Haley saw (although the others could not), her mother grab his hand beneath the table. She did not look directly at him, but instead took a sip of her water and gave him a very pointed side glance and he eventually settled, albeit reluctantly. Haley didn''t like that one bit.

    ¡°Very well then.¡± Sytris clapped his hands. ¡°Who wants to go first?¡±

 Chapter 7: Boys Trip

    To everyone¡¯s great surprise, Sytris announced that he would be training them individually.

    ¡°Why?¡± Jonathan had asked. ¡°What happened to all that bond of family crap?¡±

    ¡°Language!¡± Mr. Whitmore said.

    ¡°It¡¯s only temporary. Each of your powers functions differently on a fundamental level. Different triggers, different applications. You need at least a basic understanding of what you can do first, before you start learning together.¡±

    It made sense, they supposed, so Jon was the first to assume the challenge. On one hand, a fire of deep anticipation was blazing within his chest; he was desperate to learn more about himself, about what he was capable of before the memories of his previous life had been completely wiped away against his will. At the same time, however, though he gave no indication of this, he was also eager to be out of the room, away from everyone else.

    He didn¡¯t exactly dislike them, but he had meant what he had said about never really needing any other additions to his family since the death of his mother.

    He hadn¡¯t meant to be rude, or to hurt Tim or Haley, but it was the truth, and the truth was always preferred, wasn¡¯t it?

    Jon followed Sytris out of sight, down a corridor that he, Tim and Haley had visited briefly yesterday. The day before, however, all the doors on this side of the mansion had been locked. Now, Sytris tapped against a gleaming brown door and it swung open, revealing a room that was completely empty except for two large cushions laid on the floor and two dark red candles on either side of them.

    ¡°Oh God, please don¡¯t tell me we¡¯re going to have some kind of meditating session,¡± Jon said.

    Sytris let out a small laugh. ¡°No, Lord Orus. This is something different.¡±

    ¡°Are you ever going to stop calling me that? My name is Jonathan,¡± he said, speaking very slowly and loudly.

    ¡°Take a seat,¡± said Sytris, acting as though he hadn¡¯t heard a word. He took a seat on one of the poufs and Jonathan sat down opposite him, exhaling through his nose.

    ¡°I hope you don¡¯t have too many expectations for this session, because we¡¯ll be starting fairly small today. Today, I want you to create a tiny ball of light.¡±

    ¡°How am I supposed to do that?¡±

    ¡°Our abilities have a basis in both mentality and physicality, though sometimes they can lean towards one more. Meaning, to actually perform the divine acts you are capable of, you need to learn to utilize your body as well as your mind. Visualization, then manifestation. You need a clear vision of what you want to happen, and then do it.

    ¡°One thing I noticed in all the years I lived on Algyria, is when the younger generations were learning control of their domains, things like simple hand motions could be of great help. To better guide the flow of their powers. Hold your hands together, like so.¡± He held his hands in front of his chest, palms facing each other, a few inches apart.

    Jonathan resisted the urge to roll his eyes, knowing how silly this looked.

    ¡°And then I want you to concentrate. Remember, you must visualize first. Imagine a bright ball of pure energy humming between your palms, like a miniature sun.¡±

    Jonathan closed his eyes, picturing it in his mind. He could see it in his mind¡¯s eye, a golf-ball-sized sphere of dim yellowish-white light.

    ¡°Breathe,¡± said Sytris¡¯s voice, as if from miles away. Jon¡¯s chest rose and fell with every deep breath he took, his fingers shaking slightly as he tried to keep his hands steady, focusing intently on the ball.

    ¡°Now try to create that light. Imagine it streaming from your fingers. Not forming out of nowhere, but coming from you directly. As if you are your own star, producing your own light.¡±

    Jonathan did exactly that, letting his imagination weave the image across the surface of his mind. He opened his eyes ¡ª and found the space between his palms completely empty.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t work,¡± he grumbled.

    ¡°That¡¯s okay. No one expects to get it the first time. It¡¯s about persistence. Master your mind and you master your powers¡­ Try again¡­¡±

    Cursing under his breath, Jonathan returned to his original position, arms held a few inches apart. Sytris¡¯s voice washed over him, repeating the same instructions from earlier. Settle your mind¡­ visualize the end result¡­ imagine it happening¡­

    But there wasn¡¯t so much as a spark.

    ¡°Is there something else we can try?¡± Jon asked, starting to get frustrated.

    Sytris exhaled through his nose. ¡°Very well. Perhaps generating light might be too advanced a step for you right now. How about absorbing it?¡±

    With a snap of his fingers, the two candles in front of them ignited, their flames burning bright and steady.

    ¡°Absorbing light? Is that even possible?¡±

    ¡°Of course it is. Light is your dominion, you have absolute control over it. And besides, it is something I witnessed you perform myself.¡±

    ¡°You mean when I was younger, before our memories were erased?¡±

    ¡°Precisely. You all had at least a basic understanding and sense of control of your abilities when you were children. All you have to do is find a way to reconnect with your powers, the way you did back then. It shouldn¡¯t be too hard; you learned it when you were mere kids after all.¡±

    Jon took another deep breath, turning his focus to the candle on his left. A pleasant aroma was wafting from it. Jon fixed his gaze upon it, trying hard not to blink.

    Visualization, then manifestation¡­

    In his mind¡¯s eye he conjured the image of the flame steadily going out, losing its radiance as it flowed into him instead. He raised his open palm towards the candle, concentrating hard. He continued like this for almost a whole minute, watched intently by the caretaker, but not a single change occurred.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t working,¡± he said, standing up.

    ¡°Where are you going?¡±

    ¡°To get something to drink. This is pointless.¡±

    He closed the door behind him with a snap, ignoring Sytris¡¯s pleas to make just a few more attempts. He supposed he could have stayed for a bit longer, but the lack of results ¡ª as understandable as it was, given that they had only learned of their heritage yesterday ¡ª still made him feel like a failure. He loathed the feeling of inadequacy, the sinking feeling of shame that followed him. How on earth a five year old him had managed to get the hang of his powers when he couldn¡¯t even put out a candle was beyond him, but he ¡ª

    Jon stopped dead. He had just walked into the kitchen, where of all the inhabitants of the mansion, Oscar alone remained the dining table, his bare, unwashed feet on the tabletop.

    ¡°What¡¯s up, little brother?¡± he said, a vacant smile on his face.

    Jon felt a twinge of discomfort at how he had been referenced, but he pushed it down. He was his younger brother, after all.

    ¡°Nothing, I just need a drink.¡±

    ¡°Like just a drink or¡­¡± Oscar looked around conspiratorially. ¡°Or like a drink drink?¡± He wiggled his eyebrows.

    Jon opened the fridge and withdrew a mango-flavoured juice carton, then held it up. ¡°I don¡¯t drink the other stuff.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good. Very responsible of you,¡± Oscar said, with a wide smile. Jonathan couldn¡¯t tell if he was teasing him or not. ¡°So how¡¯s the training sesh going?¡±

    The flicker of irritation returned. ¡°Just taking a break.¡±

    ¡°Mmm¡­ You failed at everything he told you to try, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    Jonathan froze, the straw paused at his lip, taken aback.

    ¡°No shame in it. Here¡¯s a little secret, I did too. It took me three years to learn how to make an apple.¡±

    Jonathan took a few steps closer to him, eyebrows furrowed. ¡°When exactly did your parents tell you about your powers?¡±

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s the funny part. They didn¡¯t actually tell me until weeks after I discovered them on my own.¡± Seeing the confused look on Jon¡¯s face, Oscar sat up straight in his chair and continued. ¡°December 22nd, 2008. I remember that day very vividly. I¡¯d been sent to a boys¡¯ home earlier in the year because of some¡­ behavioural issues.¡± He sketched air quotes around the words with his fingers. ¡°Unavoidable at that point, but not a pleasant experience. My folks made me swear that I¡¯d never take this off the whole time I was up there¡± ¡ª he fingered the brilliant amethyst necklace at his throat ¡ª ¡°and I really did plan to. But let¡¯s just say, even after four months there I wasn¡¯t exactly a reformed delinquent.

    ¡°I got into a few spats with some of my fellow troublemakers, ended up attracting the attention of one very mean supervisor called Ms. Roach. She punished me relentlessly, but nothing really worked. So eventually she went for a different angle. I guess she realized how important the necklace was to me and confiscated it, and obviously at the time I had no idea what its real purpose was.

    ¡°Shortly after snatching it from me, they decided to host a movie night with the kids who were more well-behaved. It was Ms. Roach¡¯s idea, and I was conveniently the only one left out ¡ª which I¡¯m sure was a total coincidence.

    ¡°But I decided to sneak down there that night and watched a good chunk of the movie too, didn¡¯t realize what genre they¡¯d opted for though. Ended up having a slew of nightmares, and that¡¯s when it started. Because instead of just seeing the monsters on the screen ¡ª¡±

    ¡°You started manifesting them in real life.¡±

    Oscar made a clicking noise of affirmation. ¡°It was chaos. Three headed demon lizards, six-foot-tall spiders, flaming demon horsemen, all running around the institute for a whole night¡­ Eventually the illusions faded, no one was hurt of course but when the police arrived and realized that absolutely nothing was recorded on camera, they thought everyone was either lying or having a mental break. Institution was shut down and everyone went home, and my folks shipped me out of town before anyone could notice we were gone. They explained everything to me afterwards.¡±

    ¡°One heck of a backstory.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re telling me. At first they tried to deny everything, said it was just my imagination in hyperdrive. Even got a few pharmaceuticals and a psychiatrist to help. Well, the goodies did, but even drugs couldn¡¯t hide the truth, because I ended up creating new illusions over the next few weeks. Eventually they cracked and told me everything, but they never reached out to Sytris about it. Never wanted him to know they messed up as bad as they did. It took me years to perfect the craft, but¡­¡±

    With a wiggle of his fingers, the words, ¡°I did it¡± traced themselves through the air, written in large cursive letters made of what looked like smoke. Then it was dispelled.

    ¡°How did you do it, though?¡±

    ¡°Practice, commitment and lots of trial and error that resulted in months of therapy for innocent bystanders.¡± Oscar shrugged, closing his eyes as if he was about to doze off.

    Jon bit his lip, thinking hard. ¡°Can you teach me?¡±

    Oscar¡¯s eyes opened very slowly. ¡°Teach you?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, the same way you learned.¡±

    ¡°I mean¡­ I don¡¯t think my methods will translate that well for you.¡±

    ¡°Please,¡± Jonathan said.

    Oscar looked up at him, his bright green eyes oddly serious. He took a great breath, then ¡ª ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Jonathan sputtered, taken aback.

    Oscar laughed. ¡°I¡¯m just messing with you. Yeah, sure I¡¯ll help. But I warn you, how I learned isn¡¯t really what you¡¯d call orthodox.¡±

    ¡°I can handle a little weirdness.¡±

    ¡°If you say so. But we can¡¯t do it here. There¡¯s something else we need for the process.¡±

    ¡°Like what?¡±

    ¡°Something that we can¡¯t find in these cupboards.¡± He looked around, as if to see if anyone was around. ¡°Up for a little trip into town?¡±

    ¡°I thought we weren¡¯t supposed to leave the house?¡±

    ¡°When has that ever stopped anybody?¡± Oscar asked. Strangely, the expression on his face looked completely serious, as if he was actually being genuine.

    ¡°Never mind. How are we supposed to get into the city? I can¡¯t drive, and I doubt even if we swiped someone¡¯s keys that no one would notice the car leaving the lot ¡ª oh you want to steal the ventus?¡± he said, comprehension finally dawning.

    ¡°Not really stealing if she originally belonged to you, right?¡± Oscar said, wiggling his eyebrows again. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we won¡¯t spend long. If anyone asks we were exploring the mansion.¡±

    Taking great care to ensure the coast was clear, the duo made their way out of the house and over into the garden where the ventus was resting. Her emerald mane billowed in the window, leaves scuttling across the ground around her, but she stirred as they approached. She leapt up immediately, nuzzling Jonathan contentedly. He let out a small but genuine laugh.

    He couldn¡¯t remember anything about her from his previous life on Algyria, but she felt familiar, as if the memories of her were buried just underneath the surface of his mind.

    ¡°You up for a ride?¡± he asked. She whinnied in approval. Still taking care to ensure that nobody was watching, they climbed atop the ventus and rode off, into the sky.

    It was rather uncomfortable, adjusting to the lighter air, the sudden warmth and the blinding sunlight in their eyes. But Jonathan felt wonderfully free in the sky, as if they had left more than the mansion behind them; it was as if all his worries been blown away in the breeze. They rode for half an hour, according to the watch Jon had brought with him.

    Eventually he guided the ventus down, into a patch of trees near the city where they could take shelter.

    ¡°Wait here for us, Skylar,¡± Jon said, as they dismounted. She disappeared, evaporating into a cloud of green wind that eventually faded into the late morning air. They took off, down the small dirt path leading to the town they had been watching from overhead. ¡°What are we doing here anyway?¡±

    ¡°I was doing some research before we left, turns out there¡¯s a backpacker bar nearby that sells laughing gas balloons.¡±

    ¡°Why would you need laughing gas?¡± he asked, astounded.

    ¡°It¡¯s one of the things my old shrink recommended me whenever I had a really bad episode. Works wonders. Helps to ease the mind, puts you in a state of euphoria ¡ª believe it or not, it made it easier to access my powers. You can try to clear your mind all you like, the way they do in cheesy old cartoons. But that almost never works.

    ¡°All of us have way too much going on in here to brush it under the rug just like that.¡± He tapped his knuckles against his head. ¡°Sometimes you just need a little assistance, and that¡¯s what we¡¯re here for.¡±

    They entered the city several minutes after. The streets were crowded, full of people who looked completely unconcerned, oblivious to the fact that magical creatures roamed their world.

    Jon suddenly felt selfish, realizing how much danger they had put these people in by coming here when they knew the Harbingers were sending monsters after them.

    ¡°Let¡¯s just make this quick, all right?¡±

    The bar Oscar had found was just a short ways up ahead, surrounded by a number of shady-looking figures who sat outside, catcalling passersby or hurling insults at them. Jon stared apprehensively at them, but Oscar was grinning.

    ¡°Stay here, I know how to handle these guys.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d bet you do,¡± Jon said under his breath, as Oscar headed into the bar. He surveyed the area, taking in the extremely littered street or the strange-looking people who occupied this region, when a loud shattering of glass rent the air. He whipped around in alarm, but the people on the outside of the bar merely glanced inside and resumed their drunken ramblings. Maybe it was just an accident? In any case, he hoped Oscar would hurry. He was getting a bad feeling from this place.

    Several minutes later he reappeared, black knapsack in hand.

    ¡°Found it.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯d you even get that?¡±

    ¡°An illusionist never reveals his secrets,¡± Oscar said with a wink. ¡°Come on, this process is better completed with some nice background scenery.¡±

    They headed back down the path towards the area they had touched down, but instead of taking the right that would lead them where Skylar was waiting for them, they turned leftwards, where they could hear rushing water in the distance. They pushed through thickets of vines and brambles, finally emerging onto the scene of a small river winding through the path around them.

    ¡°This should do,¡± Oscar said happily. He pulled off the knapsack and opened it, revealing several black balloons, two of which he passed to Jon. ¡°Suck the air out of these.¡±

    Jon looked down at them, deeply uncomfortable. ¡°I don¡¯t know about this¡­¡±

    ¡°I thought you said you could handle a little weirdness?¡± he said slyly.

    Jon exhaled, then snatched the balloons out of his hand and drained the air out of them. They were very small, but for all it felt to Jon they may have been the size of parachutes. With every breath he took in, he felt increasingly more lightheaded. When finally he had drained the second balloon, he almost keeled over, but Oscar caught him.

    ¡°Easy there. Should have warned you about that, you may feel a bit off for a few minutes.¡±

    But Jon didn¡¯t feel off at all¡­ In fact, he felt euphoric. It was as if someone had injected liquid sunshine into his very veins. He cracked a wide grin, which turned into a raucous laugh, and he found that he couldn¡¯t stop. It continued for almost a whole minute; his lungs were aching, but he couldn¡¯t stop himself from giggling like a madman. Eventually he managed to stop, taking great gasps to catch his breath.

    ¡°Huh, the doses weren¡¯t that concentrated, shouldn¡¯t have affected you this strongly. Just try to remember why you¡¯re here. It was to help you gain control, right?¡±

    ¡°I f-feel very in control right now,¡± Jon laughed. ¡°Like super in control. I¡¯m the master of control.¡±

    ¡°Oookay, definitely no more drugs for you in the future,¡±Oscar said. ¡°Focus, Jon. We¡¯re here to help you learn how to use your powers. You told me what Sytris told you to do, remember? Try to do that again. Close your eyes, breathe, concentrate.¡±

    Trying to bring his mind into focus felt like trying to pull a cruise ship back to the dock with a fraying piece of rope. He felt so lightheaded he was afraid for a moment that a strong enough breeze would send him sailing away. But he tried it regardless, remembering the scene of that plain room with the coloured cushions and the scented candles, Sytris¡¯s voice echoing in his incredibly empty mind as if he was right there breathing the words in his ear.

    ¡°Now try to generate that ball of light again¡­¡±

    He visualized the sphere of energy in his mind again; the image was rather blurry compared to earlier, as he struggled to regain his focus. But he pinched his thigh, forcing himself back to earth.

    ¡°Do it.¡±

    Jon moved his hands apart, ever so slightly. This time, a spiral of light blossomed in his hands. It was far too small and entirely the wrong colour than what he had imagined, but it had worked!

    ¡°You did it!¡± Oscar said.

    ¡°I¡­ I did.¡±

    They marveled at the ball of light for a few moments, as Jon tossed it between his palms like an actual ball. Somewhere behind them, a loud splash sounded out. Darkness fell over them as if an eclipse had abruptly blotted out the sun. In front of him, Oscar¡¯s bright green eyes were fixed on the sky, his jaw hanging open.

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    Oscar pointed, and Jon turned to see a titanic serpent, acid-green in colour and coated in dozens of cruel, serrated, steel-grey scales hovering over them, its evil, slitted eyes bared down at them.

    They sat in silence, staring up at in horror.

    ¡°MOVE!¡± Oscar shouted, but it was far too late. Before Jon could even think to stand the snake lashed out at them like a whip. He felt Oscar¡¯s hands on his back, and then himself flying sideways, just as the snake crashed into the dirt around them. He went tumbling away, but as he righted himself, he looked up to see the snake retreating into the water, clutching one of Oscar¡¯s legs as he let out a chilling scream. Then they disappeared into the water with an almighty splash.

 Chapter 8: The Prodigy

    Following Sytris¡¯s pronouncement, Haley, Lauren and Tim had taken to roaming the halls, trying to make awkward small talk, as Sytris began his first lesson with Jonathan. Oscar had opted to remain in the kitchen, taking seconds of nearly everything that had been served.

    The ¡°getting to know you¡± phase was always awkward, but this time it was unusually so. In Haley¡¯s experience, typically when you met someone new, all you needed was to find the right topic of conversation and everything would fall smoothly into place. But this wasn¡¯t one of those times. These people weren¡¯t random strangers she met in school, or at the store, but siblings she had apparently known and loved before they were forcibly erased from her mind. On top of that, from the snippets Haley was learning of them they didn¡¯t seem to have much in common either.

    Jonathan and Mr. Whitmore, from what Jon had told them, had lived a fairly quiet life, although she surmised that Mr. Whitmore had a very hard time dealing with his son after his wife¡¯s passing. Raising a child would have been a difficult enough task, she imagined, but after losing the love of your life it would have been exponentially harder. Jonathan of course had also been hurting, but seemed to deal with the loss mostly by bottling it up and pretending that it didn¡¯t affect him.

    He acted cold and distant, but she had seen that demeanor too often to be fooled about what it was concealing. Still, no one pushed him. It wasn¡¯t their place to tell him what to feel about the death of a loved one.

    Lauren remained quiet for the most part, and when she did speak she let almost nothing significant slip.

    Tim, on the other hand, seemed to have lived a life that was suffocated under a fussing mother. Mr. Bryant traveled a lot for work, and although she was around for the most part, Tim¡¯s mother often had to work irregular shifts from what it sounded.

    He tried to make it sound like he was okay, but Haley could detect an underlying sense of loneliness to it. He was definitely excited about having siblings, which was how she knew that awkward moment when Jonathan had said he had never even considered it had stung. She had pretended not to notice for Tim¡¯s sake , but the disappointment had been plastered across his face. If she was being honest with herself ¡ª and she was trying not to be ¡ª it had rubbed her the wrong way too.

    She didn¡¯t let them know this though. Instead they continued to sift through topics of conversation for another few minutes, but then, shortly after, Sytris appeared to them, asking who was next.

    ¡°Jon¡¯s done already?¡± Tim asked in surprise.

    ¡°Erm ¡ª well, he wanted a break. I thought we could start with someone else in the meantime.¡±

    Eager for the chance to break away from this setting, Haley had agreed to follow. Sytris led her down the passageway he had led Jon, but this time they didn¡¯t stop in a specific room. He opened the door at the very end of the hallway and they emerged outside, into the brilliant sunshine and fragrant summer air.

    The backyard was large and beautifully kept, and a whole section was dedicated to an array of vibrant, multicoloured flowers. About ten feet away stood two wooden logs each with a large dot of red paint on the center of their planks.

    ¡°What are these for?¡±

    ¡°Weapons training,¡± Sytris said simply. ¡°As explained before, the gods of Algyria are immortal, meaning we can live forever, but it is still possible for us to die.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, Brightsteel is deadly to us, I heard.¡±

    ¡°Not just that, there are quite a few things that pose a danger to us, in fact. The same is true for the Harbingers, but Brightsteel happens to be the one most easily found. Each of the weapons you received is something that you held close to you in the days of your youth. Lord Orus¡¯s ring, your bangle, Lord Nokk¡¯s necklace ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Tim¡¯s glasses,¡± she added. ¡°Yeah we know. Speaking of which, why does a divine being need glasses anyway? Aren¡¯t we supposed to be perfect? All powerful? That¡¯s how gods are usually described, right?¡±

    To her surprise, Sytris burst out laughing. She watched him with a puzzled expression, then he finally pulled himself together.

    ¡°Forgive me, Milady. But it is quite funny. ¡®Perfect¡¯ and ¡®all-powerful¡¯ are absolutely not words you would use to describe us. We are almost as far from those concepts as mortals are. We are celestial beings, yes, but we are not infallible. We just happen to have access to magic. And regarding why Lord Lenos needs glasses¡­ Well, as I said there is a good number of things that can harm us. A lot of them we can heal from, but they can also cause lasting damage.¡± As he spoke he rolled up his sleeve, and Haley felt a slight wave of nausea as he unveiled a gruesome scar stretching from the base of his elbow down to his wrist.

    ¡°How did you get that?¡±

    ¡°Perhaps that story can be saved for another time,¡± Sytris said with a small smile.

    ¡°Why bother showing me if you weren¡¯t going to tell me?¡± Haley said, irritated.

    ¡°To dispel the myth that we are perfect. If you faced a Harbinger with that mindset it would likely cost you your life. And speaking of the Harbingers, your weapons are going to be your most important tools in the battles ahead. While your gifts will certainly be invaluable assets as well, your weapons are the only way to¡­ ensure they won¡¯t be future threats. Mastering both your powers and your weapons is the key to survival. If you would¡­¡± He gestured at her wrist.

    Haley held up her bangle and whispered, ¡°Iduna.¡± As the silver light died away, her twin fans were revealed, gleaming in her palms once more.

    ¡°I did some research on these,¡± Haley said. ¡°Tessen fans are meant to be used like clubs, right? To bludgeon the opponents?¡±

    ¡°That is how it was for the fans that yours were modeled after. But these fans are more special. They can certainly be used for blunt force, but they were originally intended for more ranged use.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°You see those?¡± Sytris pointed at the logs behind them. ¡°Throw your fans at them.¡±

    ¡°Why? What¡¯s going to happen?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not much for trusting the process, are you?¡±

    ¡°Nope,¡± she said brightly.

    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    Sytris gave her a pointed look and gestured at the logs again. Haley unfolded the fans. The metal ribs extended, unfurling to their full lengths, and she let them fly. She half expected them to go clattering to the ground in a few seconds, but instead they remained on a steady path, picking up speed as they flew towards the logs. There was a sound like a chainsaw cutting through wood as the fans cleaved through the logs and they fell to the ground. But that wasn¡¯t all: the fans changed direction in midair, zooming straight towards her like glowing boomerangs.

    She acted purely out of reflex; her hands shot upwards and she snatched them out of the air. Most curious of all, they didn¡¯t even leave a scratch.

    ¡°Okay, that is really cool,¡± she said. ¡°Do they always come back after they¡¯re thrown?¡±

    ¡°If they aren¡¯t obstructed, yes. I must say, that was a pretty good throw.¡±

    ¡°I used to play baseball with my dad. It¡¯s all in the wrist.¡± Haley frowned as a sudden thought occurred to her. ¡°Did we have these weapons as kids?¡±

    ¡°Non-lethal versions of them, but yes. Why?¡±

    Haley racked her brain. The fans felt familiar ¡ª the way she angled her wrists upon release; how her eyes tracked their progress through the air; how her hands had glided upwards to catch them, almost as if magnetically attracted. It was like muscle memory, as if she had done it a thousand times and her body had adapted to the motions.

    ¡°You¡¯ll get your memories back,¡± Sytris said, as if he was reading her mind. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. Lady Mnemosyne can do it, I¡¯m certain of it.¡±

    Haley was too distracted to even be phased by the mention of Lauren. She was surveying the fans, trying to remember the days when she had held them years before.

    ¡°How about you try again?¡±

    Haley did just that. She took a deep breath, positioning her wrists very carefully, then she let the weapons soar. They made a very satisfying whizzing sound as they flew, and yet again sawed right through the wood as they made contact, like a hot knife through butter.

    ¡°You¡¯re a natural,¡± said Sytris, as the fans returned.

    ¡°Do you mind if we practiced with our powers for a while?¡±

    The smile on his face flickered slightly. ¡°Of course,¡± he said, though uncertainty was etched in the sharp lines of his face. ¡°Although I thought you would have wanted to hold off on using your abilities first.¡±

    Haley looked up at him. ¡°What gave you that impression?¡±

    Sytris shrugged. ¡°I rather thought you would have preferred to ease your way into it, since you seemed to want to maintain some sense of normalcy. But if you would like to proceed to the next step, there¡¯s no reason we can¡¯t. As the goddess of nature, your domain extends to all forms of plant-life, and of course the earth itself. I think this could be a good starting point.¡± He waved his hand in front of him and a small table appeared out of thin air, upon which was stacked a house of cards.

    ¡°How did you do that?¡±

    ¡°That you can also learn in time. Right now though, I want you to start small. Send a small tremor through the ground and topple the table.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s all?¡±

    ¡°That is all,¡± he said serenely. ¡°Just a small quake.¡±

    Haley shrugged.

    ¡°It may sound simple, but don¡¯t be disappointed if you don¡¯t succeed on the first attempt. A lot of you and your siblings¡¯ powers are dependent on sheer willpower and mental fortitude. Just a few minutes ago Lord Orus was rather upset about a lack of results. The key is to remain calm, to concentrate deeply on what it is you want to ¡ª¡±

    Sytris¡¯s words were drowned in a very low rumble, a rumble that grew steadily louder until it filled the whole clearing. It was as if an industrial tractor was roaring in the yard beside them. The ground ahead of them rippled; the neat, unnaturally green lawn tore up as huge cracks wound their way through the earth. The ground underneath them ruptured and the whole table collapsed, leaving cards fluttering through the air. Sytris stared at them, his jaw agape.

    He turned to look at Haley, who was grinning.

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t as hard as I thought it¡¯d be,¡± she said cheerfully.

    Sytris still looked dumbfounded. After a few seconds he found his voice again. ¡°How did you do that?¡± he said, in a surprisingly calm voice.

    ¡°Well, I just kind of imagined what the end result would be and concentrated hard on it. I felt this pull in my stomach, and then it happened.¡±

    ¡°I see¡­ Well, it¡¯s a bit bigger than the scale I expected.¡±

    Haley let out a small laugh, looking at the ruined lawn. ¡°Sorry about that.¡±

    ¡°Not to worry. It was actually perfect form. How about we try again? Over here this time.¡±

    He led her to an untouched patch of grass where a large boulder was sitting. Haley balled her fists and squeezed tightly; her brow furrowed in concentration, her eyes narrowed. Her chest was rising and falling slowly as she breathed deeply; she felt her stomach clench once more, then ¡ª

    The entire patch of land ruptured, then it collapsed entirely, leaving nothing but a giant hole in the ground. Sytris looked amazed. Haley wanted nothing more than to continue, but realizing that they would soon run out of lawn, they decided to change tactics, this time focusing on the trees around them. Haley tried to get them to shake their branches the way they did the previous night. This one was much harder than the first task.

    She tried four times before she got a result, but in time she got it too: the branches of the trees began to sway in an unnatural direction, revolving so fast it was as if they were spinning on levers.

    ¡°Incredible,¡± Sytris said, his smile as broad as the trench she had just dug. ¡°Remarkable, really. You¡¯re a true prodigy.¡±

    Haley couldn¡¯t contain herself. She was grinning as if she had just learned she¡¯d won the lottery, bursting with pride. It was an amazing moment. Nothing could have ruined it, nothing ¡ª except for Mr. Whitmore rushing out to meet them, sweat glimmering on his face as he tried to weave his way around the destruction.

    He stopped in front of them, completely out of breath, and tried to speak several times but failed. Finally, after several deep breaths, he managed to gasp, ¡°Jon ¡ª Oscar ¡ª gone!¡±

    ¡°What do you mean gone?¡± Sytris asked. All the elation their session had generated had been wiped away. His expression was sharp, serious.

    ¡°They took the ventus!¡± Mr. Whitmore wheezed, clutching his chest.

    Sytris¡¯s eyes widened in horror. ¡°Where?¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t know. Neither of them are answering their phones.¡±

    Without another word Sytris darted off, back in the direction of the house. Haley followed him as he hurtled inside, pushing through the door to find the remaining inhabitants of the house gathered in the living room.

    ¡°Lord Lenos, I need you to find your brothers, please.¡±

    ¡°Wha ¡ª me?¡±

    ¡°Without Skylar, your speed is the only way we can reliably cover enough ground to find them before any monsters do. We can follow in the car, and when you do find them you can alert us of your position.¡±

    Tim took a step back, holding up his hands. ¡°That¡¯s an awful lot of pressure, don¡¯t you think? Find them before the monsters do? How am I supposed to do that?¡±

    Sytris tapped Tim¡¯s glasses. ¡°With this. I told you, the objects are linked, that¡¯s why they flared up when you reunited after your years apart. Each of your accessories has a unique magical signature that can be traced using the others. Hone in on either the ring or the necklace, and follow the beacon.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how to do any of that! And I don¡¯t know how to turn the speed on or off either!¡±

    ¡°Well that¡¯s where we have some luck. Unlike your siblings your abilities are not mental in nature. It¡¯s not something you need to know. Just do. Run as fast as you can and your body will do the rest.¡±

    Tim looked around at his parents, as if hoping they would offer a word of comfort, or maybe even disagree. They didn¡¯t. Mr. Bryant gave him a small smile and a nod, and Mrs. Bryant just said, ¡°Be careful.¡±

    Tim turned to Sytris and nodded shakily. He took a deep breath and turned to face the door. Everyone else backed away, clearing space for him to move.

    ¡°Now,¡± said Sytris, his voice low and slow. ¡°Run, Lord Lenos¡­ Run!¡±

    With a clap like thunder, Tim was off, a blur of bright blue light that raced through the door and out of sight, leaving nothing behind but a strong breeze and a smell of burning leather.

 Chapter 9: Family Matters

    It was the most wonderful feeling in the world. It was almost impossible to describe; the closest Tim could come to a depiction of what he was feeling was like a literal bolt of lightning was coursing through his body, but not in a bad way. Every cell in his body felt like it had been galvanized, bursting with energy. He was moving so fast that he could feel gusts of wind encircling his body, like his own personal forcefield.

    It wasn¡¯t like the last time, when the world had seemed to slow down around him. Everything else was moving at normal speeds, the only difference being himself, and the way his hands and feet passed in and out of focus, a blur of pale skin.

    His reflexes too had increased exponentially, allowing him to weave out of the way of incoming objects with almost expert precision ¡ª almost. It wasn¡¯t a completely smooth ride. He was still having difficulty maneuvering, and more often than not ended up planting himself face-first into a nearby tree, wall or similarly solid object. The third time this happened he was repelled so fiercely that he felt his nose shatter on impact. Pain radiated all over his face, and blood was seeping from his nostrils. He sat up, touching his nose gingerly.

    ¡°Ow!¡± Even though he could already feel it healing, realigning the broken septum on his face, it still hurt. Tim picked himself, dusted off his jeans, and straightened the glasses on his face again. It was still remarkably inconvenient having to wear the very thing that was dampening his powers, but he still needed his glasses to see.

    He prepared himself for takeoff once more and rushed off. Sytris had been right. There was nothing to do, really. It was like his body had been supercharged, and it felt so natural, so right, as if his body had secretly been yearning to break free from its mundane limits for ages and was rejoicing in its wish finally being granted.

    Still, this was clearly going to take some getting used to. An uncomfortable heat was building up inside him the longer he ran, and at one point it all came to a screeching halt, as if a switch had been flipped inside him. There was no wind, no heat. He had reverted to normal speed. Tim grunted in anger. It seemed consistency wasn¡¯t his friend today. He ran around in circles several times, digging his heels into the ground as he tried to ignite the speed once more, but the only thing he accomplished was gaining a disturbed look from two passersby who clearly thought he was mentally unsound. He returned a small, awkward smile and wave which probably only exacerbated their worries, judging by the way they began to walk even faster. Tim waited until they had vanished from sight before trying again.

    This time he succeeded, launching himself into the world like a bullet.

    The first place he searched was a rather large and poorly kept neighbourhood that seemed to foster more weeds than people. Every street was lined with a number of people who were either engaged in some kind of sport or gossiping excitedly.

    This definitely didn¡¯t seem like the kind of place they would have come to. He tried to do what Sytris had advised, focusing on picking up some kind of signal from either Jon¡¯s ring or Oscar¡¯s necklace, but he got nothing. They weren¡¯t here. Ensuring that no one¡¯s eyes were on him, he turned and raced off down the street; a cat hissed as he sped by, back arched and fur bristling.

    How long he ran he didn¡¯t know. Perhaps it had been an hour, or maybe even just a few minutes since he had left the mansion behind, but he noticed that as hard as he was running he felt no indication of being tired. Perhaps he had superhuman stamina as well?

    Tim had scoured almost two whole cities before coming to a halt. His search had been fruitless so far, but now he felt a faint tingling sensation on the bridge of his nose. It was an odd feeling, as if the glasses were undecided about whether they wanted to be hot or cold and had simply decided to stop somewhere in between. As he looked around he noticed that he had come to a halt outside of a small pub, where a neon sign had been hung in front of the building with an outstretched arm holding a large jug of beer. The smell of burning leather met his nostrils and he looked down.

    His confusion morphed at once into horror as he noticed the source of smoke: his shoes.

    The entire lower layer had been burned off, leaving only the upper covering and an empty sole, exposing his bare, rather dirty feet.

    ¡°Those were my favourite sneakers,¡± he said, disappointed. He kicked the shoes ¡ª or what was left of them ¡ª off, deciding at this point that it was no different from going barefoot, and decided to send a text to his parents informing them of his so-far fruitless journey, when another peculiar sensation caused him to pause.

    A wave of ice cold ran down his back, as if someone had poured a tub of freezing water under his shirt. It was so cold in fact that without thinking he actually clutched at his back, and a hiss of pain escaped him. At the same time an arc of green-and-white lighting crackled through the sky, followed by a rumble of thunder in the distance. An ominous sense of foreboding descended upon him.

    Tim wasn¡¯t superstitious by any means, but if this wasn¡¯t a sign to leave he didn¡¯t know what was. He turned tail and ran, so fast that he actually cracked the concrete underneath his feet as he took off.

    <hr>

    As the gigantic serpent reared from the water, Oscar suddenly found himself moving with a speed that he had never known he was capable of. He waved his hands as it hissed in fury; purple energy sparked from his fingertips, conjuring another illusion as its huge, lithe body came lunging down at them. It crashed into the shoreline as Oscar leapt aside, and he saw Jonathan¡¯s eyes widen in horror as the snake dived back into the water, carrying with it the false vision of Oscar, then he let out a bloodcurdling scream.

    Oscar seized him roughly by the shoulder and clamped his hand over his mouth. The snake could be fooled by illusions, but it could still hear.

    ¡°Shh! It¡¯s an illusion, I¡¯m right here!¡±

    Jon, still completely out of it from the laughing gas, took a very long moment before he understood what was going on.

    ¡°But I just saw ¡ª you went ¡ª the snake ¡ª¡± he whispered anxiously, then comprehension dawned in his eyes. ¡°Ohhh! Right, god of intrusions!¡±

    ¡°Illusions,¡± Oscar corrected, then seeing that he still had a completely blank look on his face he said, ¡°Never mind, it¡¯s going to realize soon that it¡¯s not really drowning anything down there, so we have to ¡ª¡±

    The snake resurfaced with a screech of rage, terrible enough to chill blood. It had risen even higher than it had when it first appeared, and now it looked even deadlier, its gigantic, razor-sharp scales glinting cruelly in the evening sunlight, baring rows upon rows of teeth that each looked as long as a baseball bat. Oscar had to give it some credit: it was smarter than most humans. On average it took them at least ten minutes to realize what was going on.

    Jon tensed beside him. He was in no condition to fight like this and Oscar had no idea when or how he would return to normal. Oscar ripped the necklace from around his throat and thrust Jon roughly aside.

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    ¡°Take shelter behind the trees!¡± he shouted. As Jon began to stumble away, he turned his attention back to the incensed creature.

    ¡°Nokk,¡± he said aloud, and the necklace became engulfed in a piercing violet light. The sudden illumination seemed to give the creature pause, as if it had become wary of what the light signified. Then the light died down, and Oscar was left wearing a large bronze gauntlet that stretched from his fingertips to the base of his elbow.

    The base of the gauntlet was studded with numerous multicoloured gems, and the knuckles had several holes along them, each about as wide as his fingers.

    The snake let out a wicked, warbling shriek and its immense body came plunging towards him again. The entire section of the beach he was standing on fell into darkness. It was as if the whole ocean itself was bearing down upon him. As its head, more draconic than snakelike, came striking down once more, Oscar reared back his left fist and threw a punch. To someone like Jon it would have looked like a futile effort (and judging by the expression on his face as he poked his head out from behind the trees, he certainly thought it was), but as his fist connected with the serpent¡¯s head there was a resounding, sickening crunch, followed immediately by a blast as if a bomb had exploded, and it shrieked again in agony as its head was swatted backwards like a tennis ball.

    The creature looked disoriented for a mere moment, then it came zipping back. Oscar raised his arm once more, conjuring yet another illusion, and this time it worked. A large fishing boat sprouted on the surface of the water, which served the purpose of catching its attention at the last moment. Oscar seized the opportunity, balling his fist again. This time, several long, golden, clawlike protrusions emerged from the holes along the knuckles and he jammed his fist into the creature¡¯s hide, twisted, and yanked it out.

    The blades cleaved into its trunk, rending off a piece of its bright blue flesh. The creature was trembling with rage, its body thrashing the water wildly.

    Oscar materialized another illusion, one of himself taunting the creature, but this time it wasn¡¯t deterred. Faster than he could even processed it lashed out. With a crack like a whip Oscar was thrown backwards into the sand. Blood was oozing from his shirt where one of the scales had ripped through his shirt.

    The pain was like fire inside his veins. He felt lightheaded. Those scales were clearly used for more than just cutting; it was like they were tipped with some kind of toxin, slowing down his movements.

    Twenty feet away, Jon was taking cover behind the trees, peeking out at the scene through his fingers. Oscar had gotten hit, but it was definitely an illusion right? Only¡­ It didn¡¯t seem to be. He couldn¡¯t tell anymore. His brain was completely fogged up. He felt useless, as if he should have known, as if he should have been able to help, but he just couldn¡¯t. Whether it was because the laughing gas was affecting him in an abnormal manner, or because he was naturally incapable, but it seemed all he could do was sit by while the ones he cared for died. Unable to do anything but watch, helpless¡­.

    And unbidden in his mind, but clearer than anything he had witnessed in the last couple minutes, rose an image of his mother on the hospital bed she had spent her last hours on.

    She was dressed in that depressing blue gown, with a bunch of wires and tubes strewn all across her body, like some kind of science experiment. He remembered the smell of the sterile air, the sounds of the different equipment beeping and humming as it tried ¡ª and failed ¡ª to keep her alive. Then (tears were now rushing down his face) the aggressive flatlining of the monitor as she began to code.

    On the other side of the trees, Oscar tried to fight the creature off, but he had known for a very long time that he was ill adapted to this kind of battle. He didn¡¯t have any special powers, no strength, no speed, nothing.

    Trickery was his only forte, and this creature seemed determined to see right through it. It clamped its teeth down onto his leg and he screamed, pain shooting from his ankle through his entire body in an instant. It was drawing him back into the water, clearly intending to drown him, but then ¡ª

    A burst of brilliant orange light flared across his vision. It was so bright, so fierce, that he had to shut his eyes, but even his eyelids were powerless against the sudden glare. It burned through his eyelids, forcing him to bury his face into the sand for some kind of reprieve. Behind him the snake shrieked again, but this time there was no anger in its warbling. This was pure, unbridled agony. The sound seemed to go on forever, sending shivers down his spine as if the pain was something physical, crawling down his back like some kind of many-legged creature.

    Something was burning. He could hear it sizzling, he could smell the creature¡¯s very flesh melting off. It released him at last and he looked around, blinking spots out of his eyes.

    The creature was thrashing again; a pillar of concentrated light was pouring over it. Oscar could see its magnificent, patterned hide dissolving under the intense heat. The serpent fell heavily into the water, sending up huge waves that sloshed over the beach. The gargling shriek of anguish died down, and then everything fell still. Oscar looked around, simultaneously amazed and horrified.

    And there was Jon. The same orange light that had been pouring over the snake was emanating from his body, undulating like jets of steam, his eyes glowing like miniature suns. He was like a walking supernova.

    Oscar let out a weak laugh, a laugh of pride and wonder. ¡°You did it,¡± he wheezed. ¡°You did it¡­¡±

    And then he fainted.

    <hr>

    ¡°Come on¡­ wake up¡­¡±

    ¡°Just one more minute.¡±

    ¡°Oscar, get up.¡±

    He could feel someone shaking him, but he didn¡¯t want to get up, he was too comfortable.

    ¡°Oscar!¡±

    ¡°But I don¡¯t wanna go to school¡­¡±

    A sharp pain suddenly seared through his face and Oscar leapt up, eyes prickling. ¡°Ow! What was that for?¡±

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t wake up,¡± Jon said with a shrug. His demeanor, his expression, even his tone of voice were all different. They were no longer dreamy and unconcerned, but cool, focused.

    ¡°So the laughing gas finally wore off?¡± Oscar said, peering at him shrewdly.

    ¡°Pretty much.¡±

    Oscar looked around. He might have thought he¡¯d dreamed the whole thing if not for the ruins of the beach remaining as evidence of their epic battle. The sea snake was nowhere to be seen. ¡°How long was I out for?¡±

    ¡°A few minutes.¡± Jon held out a hand and helped him to his feet.

    ¡°That was some light show,¡± said Oscar. ¡°How¡¯d you pull it off?¡±

    Jon hesitated, then a look of resolve briefly flitted across his face. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Way too often I¡¯ve just had to sit there while the people I care about got hurt, and I guess I didn¡¯t want to experience that kind of helplessness again. It was like some switch just flipped.¡±

    ¡°Well thank God it did. I don¡¯t think Mr. Scales down there is going to be bothering anyone for a long time.¡±

    ¡°Even so, with my luck he¡¯s probably down there trying to get reinforcements. We should get out of here before it comes back for Round 2.¡±

    As the duo turned towards the path where they had emerged from, another sound crossed the air. It was someone screaming. They had barely begun to search for the source of the noise when it actually came zooming into view. A bluish blur that sped across the sand so fast that it left black streaks through the brown. Then it veered towards the water and landed with an almighty crash, causing another huge eruption of water.

    They exchanged a brief look, then came to a wordless agreement. Both of them rushed over to the water.

    There they met Tim, who was coughing up water. Each of them seized an arm and helped to return him to his feet, both of which were completely bare, Oscar noticed.

    ¡°Still getting the hang of that,¡± Tim said, looking embarrassed.

    ¡°We can see that,¡± Jon said, with a hint of his usual sarcasm. ¡°Did they send you out to find us?¡±

    ¡°Yes, they did, and they are very worried. What are you two even doing out here?¡±

    ¡°Vision quest,¡± Oscar said, with a serene smile. Tim stared at him, then at Jonathan, as if asking, ¡°Is he serious?¡±

    Jon shook his head. ¡°What he means is ¡ª¡±

    ¡°You can save the explanation for later. We have to go. Now.¡±

    ¡°Why? What happened?¡±

    Tim looked at them, his bright brown eyes widened in terror. ¡°I think something was following me.¡±

 Chapter 10: Tremors

    Tim had barely disappeared from view when Sytris wheeled around, addressing the adults in a very brisk and serious tone. ¡°They can¡¯t have gone too far. If any of you wish to come with me, we will depart in five minutes. Take anything you think you may need. There¡¯s no telling what we may find out there.¡±

    ¡°What about us?¡± Haley asked, raising her hand eagerly. ¡°I want to help too.¡±

    Again she saw her father open his mouth to protest furiously, but he was interrupted this time by Sytris.

    ¡°Out of the question,¡± he said, with an air of complete finality. ¡°The entire reason we¡¯re going on this trip in the first place is because your siblings have decided to take a joyride into the city despite our warnings of what could happen if you leave. You¡¯re not ready for what awaits you out there.¡±

    ¡°I thought you said I was a prodigy,¡± Haley said hotly.

    ¡°I don¡¯t deny it, but a fair bit of natural talent will not suffice. You need a mind for strategy, and experience ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Which we have no way of getting if you keep us locked up in here,¡± interrupted Lauren. ¡°Funny how that works, isn¡¯t it? Besides, you said yourself that our greatest strength lies in our bond of family, and here you are, five minutes later trying to keep us apart again.¡±

    Haley glanced at her. In all honesty, she hadn¡¯t expected Lauren to agree, given how strongly she had felt about the whole situation the previous night. But in that moment she couldn¡¯t help but smile at the mixture of fierceness and determination she was exhibiting.

    Sytris stared at them. His bright blue gaze moved from Lauren to Haley, and then to their parents, who didn¡¯t seem happy but didn¡¯t voice their disagreement either.

    ¡°Very well,¡± he said slowly. ¡°If you wish to come, then you may. But be warned, we have no way of knowing what threats you may face this time. Be ready for anything and everything.¡±

    Both of them nodded.

    ¡°We would like to come too,¡± said Mrs. Gibson. ¡°We want to help in any way we can.¡±

    Even Sytris looked taken aback. He surveyed her, an eyebrow arched. Then he glanced at Mr. Gibson, who gave a weak and obviously forced smile. ¡°Very well,¡± Sytris said again. ¡°We leave in a few minutes. Whoever wishes to join us can meet us outside; the rest can remain here, in case they come back.¡±

    The crowd dispersed. As everyone returned to their rooms, Haley came to a sudden halt, her eyes fixed on Lauren¡¯s back. The others were conversing in low voices, each of them headed in different parts of the mansion. Coming to her decision, Haley rushed over to Lauren and tapped her on the shoulder just as she began to move up the splendid staircase leading into the upper rooms.

    ¡°Can we talk?¡±

    Lauren stopped, looking down at her in mild surprise. ¡°That depends: are you going to insinuate that all my life decisions are made on the subconscious basis of trying to please my parents again?¡±

    ¡°Actually I wanted to apologize for that. It wasn¡¯t any of my business, and what I said was completely out of line. I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    She could see the tension slowly leaving Lauren¡¯s body as if it was a palpable thing. ¡°I¡¯m sorry too. I don¡¯t know why I said what I said. I don¡¯t even really know anything about your family to be able to judge.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d say you knew enough, since your guess was pretty spot on,¡± Haley said, eyes fixed on the ground. ¡°You know it¡¯s kind of funny. Finding out you have siblings and then immediately grating on each other¡¯s nerves. It¡¯s like the last twelve years of separation never happened.¡±

    Lauren laughed, light and airy. ¡°I guess this whole sibling thing comes a lot more naturally to us than we thought. You know, when I was younger my cousins used to stay over for the holidays. It was nice but¡­ I always kind of wanted people around who¡­ wouldn¡¯t disappear as soon as New Years came around.¡±

    ¡°I think that¡¯d be nice,¡± Haley said. They smiled again.

    ¡°Girls,¡± said a voice, snapping them out of their reverie and causing them to jump. It was Mr. Bryant. ¡°Might want to get a move on.¡±

    ¡°Right, sorry.¡±

    They scrambled up the stairs, then Lauren turned left and Haley turned right. The room Haley had been given was large and luxurious, but it didn¡¯t exactly feel ¡°homey.¡± It was beautifully decorated, with a magnificent queen-sized bed covered in ocean-themed bedspreads, and there were many lavish paintings hung around the room. It was gorgeous, but she felt distinctly out of place, as if she was intruding on someone else¡¯s space. Perhaps it was because she had only been here for a night, or maybe it was because nothing here had been chosen by her, but she felt like a stranger, despite getting the feeling that this room was specifically chosen for her.

    She hurried over to the bags that were piled up in the corner, which she had yet to unpack. They didn¡¯t know how long they were meant to stay here, after all. What was the point of unpacking if they were likely going to leave soon? Now that she thought about it, she didn¡¯t even know what to bring for their journey.

    What exactly would one need on a trip to fight monsters? At best she could think of bringing her bangle, some aspirin and maybe a change of clothes, but nothing else of value crossed her mind. She shoved the clean garments into an empty bag and hurried downstairs, but then she saw Lauren, carrying a large knapsack that looked like it was struggling to hold all its contents. What she was possibly carrying in there Haley had no idea, but she didn¡¯t bother to ask. They hurried out into the driveway, where Haley¡¯s parents, Mr. Whitmore, the Bryants and Sytris were gathered around the Gibsons¡¯ vehicle.

    ¡°Get in,¡± said Mr. Gibson.

    Luckily the car was a seven-seater, so there was no squeezing, but it meant Haley and Lauren had to take the seats at the very back, which Haley hated. But it wouldn¡¯t last long, she reminded herself. Once they found the missing boys some of them would be traveling back on that flying horse. She made a mental note to herself to ask if she could be one of them, since by the sound of it she was the only one who had never traveled via Ventus Airlines before.

    It was a long and grueling drive. Even with the AC on and the windows cracked, it was still incredibly hot inside the packed vehicle. Sytris alone, who was in the middle seats, looked unperturbed by their less-than-ideal seating arrangements.

    His freezing blue eyes were fixed solely on the road, as if expecting the missing siblings to randomly pop up on the side of the street. About fifteen minutes into their journey, Haley realized she had been clutching at her bangle without even noticing. It was a familiar, comfortable feeling. It reminded her of the way she had felt when she first received it from her parents, and how it made her feel as if they were always watching over her in the moments they weren¡¯t physically there. Now that she was consciously focusing on it, she tried to do what Sytris had instructed Tim to do, and trace their locations with magic.

    It was a completely futile effort.

    The only thing she felt was a mounting feeling of frustration. She felt useless, as if she should have been able to contribute to their search rather than just sit there, sandwiched in the backseat like a toddler.

    ¡°Message from Tim,¡± Mrs. Bryant said, breaking the silence that had fallen in the car. ¡°He hasn¡¯t found them yet.¡±

    Sytris let out a distinctly frustrated noise.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m sure they¡¯re okay,¡± said Mr. Whitmore, but he sounded as if he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else. Haley recognized the look in his eye as one of profound anxiety. He had already lost his wife, she couldn¡¯t imagine the pain he would feel losing his son as well.

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    ¡°Besides, they had a surprise monster attack just yesterday, and they came out on top. I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll be fine this time too.¡±

    Haley was sure Mr. Whitmore had meant for this to sound uplifting, but it had quite the opposite effect. Sytris frowned in his seat, then cast a glowering eye over Mr. Whitmore and said, ¡°Experience with one type of monster doesn¡¯t mean they can suddenly handle all others. There are hundreds of different supernatural creatures out there: things you¡¯ve only ever heard of in fairy tales or on TV, things that have never even made it into any form of fiction because the few people who did witness them were too frightened to reconstruct their image at all, or never lived to tell the tale. I will feel sure that they¡¯re safe when we find them and have returned home. Only then.¡±

    Another awkward silence descended upon the vehicle. Minutes passed where the only sounds heard were the honking of irritable drivers and Mr. Gibson yelling curses at a few. Then something happened to break the quiet, something so strange and unexpected that it almost caused Mr. Gibson to veer into oncoming traffic out of fright.

    Lauren let out a long, shrill, piercing scream that nearly ruptured Haley¡¯s eardrums. She clapped her hands over her ears out of pure instinct, but it didn¡¯t do much to block the sound. The car zigzagged across the street as Mr. Gibson struggled to regain control, finally coming to a halt at a precarious spot on the sidewalk.

    Drivers and pedestrians alike yelled and hurled curses at them, but nobody paid them any mind. Every eye in the vehicle was fixed on Lauren, who had stopped screaming but was still panting hard.

    ¡°Lady Mnemosyne?¡± Sytris said.

    Lauren didn¡¯t respond. Her eyes were unfocused and she was still breathing hard.

    ¡°Lauren!¡± Haley said, and she jumped, seemingly coming back to her sense.

    ¡°What? What happened? What¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡°You tell us, you¡¯re the one who started screaming like a banshee!¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I saw something,¡± Lauren said. ¡°My head felt like it was splitting open, and then I guess some sort of ¡ª of vision came over. Flickers of something.¡±

    ¡°Vision?¡±

    ¡°A memory?¡± Sytris said. He no longer looked apprehensive, he was intrigued. ¡°What happened? Who did you see?¡±

    ¡°It was inside of a bar,¡± she said. ¡°I saw some guys fighting, one of them actually broke a bottle over the other¡¯s head. And he crumpled, and¡­ And there was all this commotion.¡± She let out a breath that seemed to cause her a great effort. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, it was so confusing, and so loud.¡±

    ¡°Did you see anyone?¡± Sytris asked. ¡°Aside from the men fighting. Whose point of view was it from?¡±

    ¡°I ¡ª I don¡¯t know, it was so jumbled¡­¡±

    ¡°Think. Try to picture it again.¡±

    Lauren closed her eyes and exhaled. She sat for several seconds, silent, then slowly opened her eyes. ¡°I think it was Oscar,¡± she said.

    ¡°Did you see any other details about the bar they were in? Like a name?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Yeah, there was a sign. The Jardin Bleu.¡±

    There was a small flurry of movement as Mr. Whitmore pulled out his phone. ¡°There¡¯s a bar close by with that name,¡± he said excitedly.

    ¡°They must have been there recently,¡± Sytris said. ¡°Someone could have seen where they went. We can start our search there.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll let Tim know,¡± said Mr. Bryant. As he typed his message, Mr. Gibson eased the car back onto the road and slammed on the gas pedal, sending them shooting forward. The drive to the Jardin Bleu took over thirty minutes, and when they finally arrived outside the shabby-looking pub painted a dull shade of blue, the doors had been thrown open before the vehicle had fully come to a halt. Sytris and Mr. Whitmore were the first out. They hurried into the pub while the others remained in the car, watching the entrance. After a few minutes they returned, looking dejected.

    "They were certainly here about an hour ago," said Sytris. "The bartender distinctly remembered Lord Nokk, said he was a bit odd. But he left shortly after."

    "Maybe someone else saw where they went," Mr. Bryant said hopefully. "We can ask around."

    Sytris nodded. The Bryants too emerged from the car, but when they had pulled back the seats for Lauren and Haley to climb out, Mr. Gibson said, ¡°I think we should split up for a bit.¡±

    ¡°What? Why?¡± Mr. Whitmore¡¯s voice sounded more suspicious than confused.

    ¡°We¡¯ll cover more ground that way. You guys can question the people here, and we¡¯ll head down the street to see if anyone else saw where they went.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think we should,¡± Sytris said firmly. ¡°It¡¯s far too risky to be constantly separating, that¡¯s the whole reason we¡¯re out here in the first place.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re just trying to help!¡± Haley¡¯s father said angrily. ¡°Forget separation, how are we ever going to get anywhere if you don¡¯t even trust us! We may disagree about a lot of things, but one thing we are in agreement about is keeping the children safe. That¡¯s all we¡¯re trying to do.¡±

    There was another brief spell of quiet. Sytris¡¯s face was as blank as a stone, so still it almost didn¡¯t seem like he was breathing. Then he spoke, so quietly Haley almost missed what he said next. ¡°If you think it will help, then do what you must. Meet us back here once you¡¯re finished.¡±

    Mr. Gibson nodded. The others peeled away from the car, scattering into the vicinity of the Jardin Bleu and shooting curious glances back at them as they moved. Mr. Gibson started the car up and slowly glided down the street, moving steadily towards a group of people clustered ahead. Hopefully at least one of them had seen where Jon and Oscar had gone. The longer they were out here the more anxious Haley felt, as if something bad were about to happen. She had secretly been glad for the opportunity to escape the mansion for a bit, because as beautiful as it was the atmosphere was alo inexplicably suffocating. However, now that she was outside, she wanted nothing more than to be back inside its cavernous walls.

    The people ahead turned to look curiously at them as the car approached. Haley put her finger on the button to wind down the window so that she could interrogate them, but next second she was thrown to the other side of the seats as her father slammed his foot down on the gas pedal and made a sharp right turn; the car wheeled back onto the main road and shot off like a bullet.

    ¡°Dad, what are you doing?¡± she yelled.

    In the rearview mirror she caught a glimpse of the rest of their party hurrying out of the bar, looking at the retreating vehicle in shock and confusion.

    ¡°Dad, stop! You have to go back! Dad!¡±

    But Mr. Gibson took no notice of his daughter¡¯s pleas. He too glanced into the rearview mirror and actually sped up.

    ¡°Dad, stop!¡± Haley cried. ¡°You can¡¯t just leave them!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re doing this for you, Haley,¡± said her mother. ¡°This kind of life isn¡¯t for you. And we won¡¯t allow Sytris to throw you in the middle of some magical war so that you end up dead too.¡±

    ¡°Where are you even going?¡±

    ¡°Home,¡± her father said. ¡°We¡¯re going to pack a few things, then we¡¯re going to stay with Grandma and Grandpa for a bit while we figure out our next course of action. If Sytris wants to turn the rest of them into child soldiers, that¡¯s his business. But we took a vow to keep you safe and that¡¯s what we¡¯re going to do.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re my family! Don¡¯t I have a right to get to know them?¡±

    ¡°Having the same blood doesn¡¯t make you family,¡± he said viciously. ¡°Family is the people who¡¯ve been there for you your whole life, who love and care for you, who have your best interests at heart, who¡¯ve made countless sacrifices so that you could be happy. We¡¯re your family!¡±

    ¡°Stop, you have to stop!¡± Haley said, and she actually leaned forward, clutching at her father¡¯s arm like a child. ¡°Please Dad, we can¡¯t just abandon them like this, it¡¯s not right.¡±

    Her father wrenched his shirt out of her grip, eyes fixed on the road. ¡°We¡¯ll talk about all this later, Haley. Just sit down.¡±

    ¡°No, you always do this! This isn¡¯t about you caring about my wellbeing, this is about you being afraid that I could end up caring about them more than you!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not true,¡± her mother said, sounding shocked.

    ¡°Yes it is. I don¡¯t even know why you would think that, it¡¯s stupid. Me wanting to know them more doesn¡¯t mean I want to replace you with them!¡±

    ¡°Haley ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Stop the car. Just stop the car!¡± Haley¡¯s last words issued as a scream, a scream that was drowned by an enormous rumbling, crashing sound. The car shook violently as the ground beneath them was ripped apart. Haley felt herself being thrown about the car like a ragdoll, as Mr. Gibson shouted in alarm, unable to control the vehicle. There was a sickening crunching sound, then everything went black.

    After a few moments, light began to pierce the darkness. Haley opened her eyes. A very strange sight met her eyes: it took her a moment to realize that she was looking down at the roof of the vehicle, where the car light had been shattered. She was strewn over the backseat, upsidedown, her right arm hanging limply, trailing blood onto the sleek metal. She looked in front of her and screamed, but her voice only issued as a weak, hoarse cry.

    Her parents were in the front seat, her mother¡¯s hair spread messily over her head, which was pressed against the cracked window. Her father was slumped against the steering wheel, blood oozing from his mouth.

    ¡°Mom,¡± she whimpered. ¡°Mom? D-Dad?¡±

    Tears pricked at her eyes, which felt like they were halfway out of their sockets. She raised herself tremulously, her right hand trembling violently. ¡°Mom? Dad, please.¡±

    She was crying now, tears streaming down her face as she gasped and gulped. ¡°No¡­ no no no, please wake up. Please. Mom! Dad!¡±

    She could hear people outside, shouting, screaming, curious bystanders who had obviously come to see what had become of them. But she didn¡¯t care, all that existed was her and her parents, who were slumped over in the front seats, bleeding freely and not breathing.

 Chapter 11: Mother Darkest

    ¡°What do you mean, someone was following you?¡± Jonathan arched an eyebrow, his tone coloured with disbelief. ¡°You were moving at the speed of sound, how could anything hope to follow you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not completely sure,¡± said Tim, his expression frantic. ¡°But I got the feeling something was. There was this persistent sensation for the last couple miles I was running: it was like some kind of ¡ª of presence. Like something was watching me.¡±

    ¡°Well, that clears everything up.¡±

    ¡°Can you steer clear of the sarcasm for five minutes, please? I¡¯m being serious.¡±

    ¡°After everything we learned in the past twenty-four hours, sarcasm is one of the few things in this world that makes sense to me anymore okay. Abandon it? Not a chance!¡± Jon said.

    ¡°Okay, okay,¡± Oscar said, holding up his arms as he slid between them. ¡°Let¡¯s stay on topic, shall we? Is there any more detail you can offer, aside from maybe picking up some bad vibes?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Tim said through gritted teeth. ¡°All I know is, whatever it was didn¡¯t feel human, and it definitely didn¡¯t feel pleasant.¡±

    ¡°Well I still think this is a load of baloney,¡± Oscar said conversationally. ¡°But I¡¯m gonna take your word for it. Besides, we already did what we came here to do, we might as well head back.¡± He gestured at the path from which Tim had emerged, glowing like a ball of bright blue flames.

    A look of enormous relief overcame Tim¡¯s features. He was first to move off towards the path, his legs swallowing up the forest floor in huge strides. Just as Jon and Oscar started off behind him, however, something large and dark clattered onto the floor ahead of them. At first, Oscar thought it was a rotten fruit that had finally broken free from its perch in the trees above them, but then he realized it resembled a kind of huge black gemstone, like a shard of obsidian. It was pulsing with an ominous green light, and they could hear some kind of buzzing growing louder and louder with every passing second.

    ¡°What is that thing?¡± Jon asked. The buzzing was now so loud that he almost had to shout to be heard, and Tim¡¯s reply was completely inaudible over the now deafening din. They clapped their hands over their ears to drown out the sound, although it didn¡¯t help much. Then something even stranger happened. Under their confused and apprehensive gazes, the earth around the flake of obsidian started churning, as if a giant, invisible shovel were digging it up before their very eyes.

    Rocks, leaves and dirt all swished around like the contents of a pot of soup, until a few seconds later the obsidian was completely buried underneath the forest floor. There was an infinitesimal pause, then quite abruptly the earth in front of them started rising in a great mound.

    Two feet, three feet¡­eight feet tall. A tiny hill bloomed in front of their very eyes, which started taking shape. They could make out what looked like hands, feet, even a roughly hewn, oval-shaped head. The creature was humanoid in appearance, but instead of flesh its body was composed of a number of thick vines and the same dark, moss-covered stone that lined the path in front of them. It was as if the forest had come alive, bearing down upon them. It had no eyes, but its faceless head was turned in their direction.

    ¡°What is that thing?¡± Tim said in a croaky voice.

    ¡°No clue, but something tells me this isn¡¯t one of the helpful forest friends we usually see in movies,¡± Jon replied.

    ¡°Why isn¡¯t it doing anything?¡± Oscar wondered aloud. Several moments had passed and the massive amalgamation of rock, moss and vines simply stood there, towering over them, menacing yet completely unmoving. ¡°Maybe we should go around,¡± he suggested.

    ¡°Are you kidding?¡± Jonathan hissed. ¡°I¡¯m not going anywhere near that thing!¡± He turned to Tim. ¡°I say you run us out of here, as far from that thing as superhumanly possible.¡±

    ¡°I can barely keep myself steady when I run,¡± Tim said, his bright brown eyes fixed on the enormous statue in sheer terror. ¡°How am I supposed to take both of you?¡±

    Jon was about to respond, probably with something snarky judging by the look on his face, but he stopped abruptly as the towering stone figure took a step forward. It had moved its right leg forward only an inch, but the ground trembled as if a mighty oak had crashed there. All three boys fell silent, drawing backwards in a single uniform motion.

    ¡°It moved, it moved!¡± Tim said frantically.

    ¡°We can see that!¡± Jonathan said, eyes popping in alarm. ¡°We have to get out of here now.¡±

    The thing, whatever it was, took another step forward, slightly faster this time.

    All three of them drew nearer together, so close now that their shoulders were brushing against one another. It took another step forward, then another, and another ¡ª then it broke into a trot, its tree trunk-sized arms flailing as it raced towards them.

    ¡°Go! Go!¡± Oscar shouted. Tim raced off, the trail of divine blue light billowing from his body. Unfortunately his reflexes didn¡¯t seem to have caught up to the level of his speed just yet; he smashed face-first into a nearby tree and ricocheted off. He lay on the ground, twitching, temporarily stunned; the creature changed direction at once, moving towards its supine target.

    Oscar felt Jon¡¯s grip on his shoulder loosen and the next second he was hurtling out in front of them. He reached Tim¡¯s side first; the creature pulled up a second later, its enormous leg hovering over them like a great hammer. Jon grabbed Tim by the shoulder and heaved him up, glowing once more, this time with a piercing yellow-white light. Just as its foot came slamming downwards, a streak of that same light erupted from Jonathan¡¯s palm, searing into the giant¡¯s chest. It didn¡¯t destroy the monster, but it did repel it long enough for Jon to hoist Tim to his feet.

    Oscar darted over, waving his hand as he did. Strands of purple energy rippled through the air, settling into an image of all three boys gathered directly at the monster¡¯s feet.

    He arrived at Jon¡¯s side, hoisted one of Tim¡¯s shoulders, and he and Jonathan moved off. Unlike the serpent, however, this creature didn¡¯t spare a single iota of its attention on the illusion. It broke right through the mirage, stomping towards them, its heavy footsteps reverberating like the beat of some colossal death drum.

    Tim seemed to regain his bearings as they retreated. He slipped free of his brothers¡¯ grips and shook his head, then professed himself alright. He stopped and faced the rapidly approaching creature, and light began to flicker from Jonathan¡¯s hands once more. The beam of light that emerged this time was far brighter and more concentrated than the last, but the result was only marginally different. The force of the beam actually broke a chunk of the rock from its torso and it froze, but next moment they watched in horror as the ground beneath the creature began to churn once more.

    Sand and fragments of stone trickled upwards and snaked over its body until it arrived at the hole Jonathan had created, and they watched, transfixed, as it filled the newly created fragment, repairing it instantly.

    ¡°What is this thing?¡± Tim asked. Strangely, he sounded more amazed than scared now.

    ¡°New plan,¡± said Oscar, reaching for his necklace. ¡°Tim, get out of here, find the ventus. It¡¯s somewhere on the other side of the woods. You can ride her back here and we can use her to escape, because I don¡¯t think we¡¯re gonna be able to outrun this thing.¡±

    ¡°Are you crazy? You want me to leave, now?¡±

    Tim¡¯s feeble protest was cut off by another huge booming noise as the creature launched itself forward once more.

    ¡°No time to argue, go!¡± Oscar shouted. ¡°We¡¯ll be fine!¡±

    Tim stumbled slightly, cast an unsure look at Jonathan, who nodded, and then sped off into the trees. The monster¡¯s head turned in his direction for only a moment, but then the blue blur had disappeared and it returned its attention to the remaining duo. Oscar brandished his gauntlet and Jon¡¯s sword appeared in a flash of blue light. He glanced at his younger brother and the two shared a fleeting look full of resolve. Then they charged.

    Jon took the lead, leaping into the air and swinging his blade in a huge, leftward arc. The shining brightsteel blade cleaved right through the creature¡¯s arm. His feet landed upon the creature¡¯s slippery, vinelike chest, and he pushed off, this time following up with another powerful burst of light.

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    The beam widened the fissure along its arm and the entire base of its elbow was ripped off, clattering to the ground in a screen of dust and pebbles. Oscar came up behind them, took a running leap and delivered a powerful punch with his gauntlet. The blow was so fierce that this time it actually keeled over, smashing into a nearby clump of trees as a part of its head shattered. For a single shining moment it looked like they might have won. But again, just as it had before, the dirt around them began to stir, rising onto its body to repair the damage that had been done.

    ¡°How are we supposed to beat this thing?¡± Jon asked. The desperation in his voice weighed heavy, but Oscar had no answers.

    He held no illusions about who he was and what he could offer. What he was, was a trickster, but this thing had completely disregarded his illusion. Now it was shrugging off every blow they landed. He didn¡¯t know what to do, besides the obvious: run.

    It felt like a coward¡¯s way out, but right now no other solution came to mind. He didn¡¯t know if this creature was equipped with a way to kill them, and he wasn¡¯t keen to find out. It stood, casting them once more in its enormous shadow, and it began to charge towards them once more. Jon and Oscar raced off, the sunlight glinting off their weapons. Jon took the front again, trying to draw the monster''s attention as he hacked and stabbed at its underside, but in a stroke of sheer misfortune, he jabbed at the creature''s body so hard that the sword actually sank several feet into its leg. Its eyeless head turned to the area Jon had injured, then it swung one of its huge hands and batted Jon aside as effortlessly as a cricket ball. He slid through a patch of mud and came to a very rough halt at the foot an ancient mahogany tree.

    The creature was advancing upon him, but Jon could barely stand. Injured and defenseless he tried and failed to claw his way up, but it was directly over him now and it was preparing for another strike. Oscar climbed onto the stump of what was likely a fallen tree, then jumped off, ready to deliver another blow to the creature''s back.

    But with speed unlike anything it had demonstrated so far, the monster wheeled around and grabbed hold of him, crushing him in its gigantic palm. Oscar''s scream filled the entire clearing, his body overcome with fierce bouts of pain.

    Luckily, at that precise moment, movement overhead caught their eyes. It was Tim, riding towards them on the gaseous emerald horse, nervously clutching the reins and looking like he was going to be sick. The head of a gleaming, double-sided hammer came down on the stone titan''s back and it released Oscar, who crumpled to the floor in a heap. Jon materialized at his side, and the horse landed directly in front of them, weightless as a feather.

    "Come on!¡± Tim yelled.

    They scrambled up onto the ventus¡¯s back, the process somehow much harder than it had been before due to their confusion and desperation. Finally they managed to mount the steed and Skylar took to the air, bounding away just as the giant stone creature effortlessly uprooted a tree and sent it soaring at them. An almighty crash rang out from the position they had just left, but it didn¡¯t matter. As strong as that thing was, it clearly couldn¡¯t fly.

    Oscar almost let out a sigh of relief¡­ Almost. Before the sound had even left his lips, Tim had tensed again in front of him.

    ¡°That thing is back,¡± he shouted over the roaring wind.

    Oscar almost broke his neck looking around, first in front of them, then to both sides of them and finally behind. Nothing crossed his sight, nor did he hear anything over the rushing of the wind.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see anything,¡± Jon said. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s just your nerves.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m telling you, I can feel it!¡± said Tim indignantly.

    Or maybe all the times he had slammed into a tree at mach speed was catching up with him, Oscar thought. But he didn¡¯t say that out loud. Right now their focus was on escaping and getting back to the house. And speaking of which¡­

    ¡°Uhh, does anyone know what direction to take to get back to the house?¡±

    Nobody answered. He was about to speak again when the ventus came to a sudden and tremulous halt, almost causing its riders to plummet towards the ground below.

    ¡°Why¡¯d we stop?¡± Jon asked.

    But Tim looked too appalled to even answer. He was staring directly in front of them. And right before their very eyes, stifling any further questions they may have had, the air rippled. Its movement resembled the surface of water that had been ruffled by wind, and from the ripples another image bloomed. First it was a hand, then legs, then a torso¡­ A woman with shining silver hair seemed to have blossomed into existence from thin air. And it wasn¡¯t the silver associated with age either, but long, thick strands of what looked like polished metal. Her skin was deathly pale and her eyes were dark green, like jade. She was sitting astride a magnificent chariot that was the same colour as her eyes, which was being pulled by three huge hounds ¡ª hounds that seemed to be some kind of cross between shadow and fire. Where fur should have been was instead flickering, black and red flames.

    They looked incorporeal, but they were probably as solid as the ventus they were riding, with their pure black eyes and gaping maws. They were like demonic pitbulls.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± Tim asked.

    ¡°Children,¡± the woman said. Her voice was nothing at all like Oscar had imagined it would be: breathy and high-pitched. Instead it was deep and hoarse, like her vocal chords were under intense strain. Just hearing it sent a kind of chill down Oscar¡¯s spine. She spoke almost wonderingly, as if intrigued by this sudden development.

    The woman surveyed them with those deep green eyes, running one of her fingers across her lips, which glistened blood red.

    ¡°My name is Erymithia,¡± she said after a short pause, as if she had been contemplating whether or not to answer. ¡°It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve seen one of those.¡± Her eyes flickered onto the ventus they were riding, which actually let out a nervous whinny. ¡°I thought they were extinct.¡±

    ¡°And why would you think that?¡± Jonathan asked. His hands were balled into fists, his body stiff with tension. He looked like he was itching for a fight, as if he wanted to leap from the ventus¡¯s back and tackle the woman in midair.

    A dark smile curved the woman¡¯s lips. Her eyes seemed to have darkened ¡ª actually darkened, as though parts of the sclera had turned black ¡°Well we made such a grand show of hunting them down,¡± she crooned. ¡°My darlings had such fun tearing them apart, why I think they never really got over the fact that they seemed to have killed them all before now.¡±

    Her dogs began to growl, pawing at the air as if readying to pounce.

    ¡°You¡¯re one of them,¡± Oscar said. He had held a faint suspicion, but hearing the way she talked was pretty much direct confirmation. ¡°A Harbinger.¡±

    Her smile flickered for a moment; a look of deepest loathing ran down her face, then it faded. ¡°An ugly name devised for my people by a race of conniving weaklings who did not deserve their place in the magical world. Luckily, they got what they deserved in the end.¡± She gave a small shrug as she spoke, and her evil smile had fixed itself back in place. ¡°And you are most certainly remnants of Algyria. More than that¡­¡± She cocked her head to the side, examining them curiously. ¡°Brothers,¡± she murmured. ¡°Interesting. How many more of you are left? How many escaped the purge?¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you come over here? I can give you a pretty good estimate,¡± Jon said, his teeth clenched so tightly Oscar could almost hear them grinding against each other. Something was definitely wrong. Her presence seemed to be affecting him in a way Oscar couldn¡¯t understand. Even Tim seemed petrified with fear.

    Almost predictably, Erymithia let out a derisive laugh. ¡°I don¡¯t normally conduct battle with adolscents. No, that part I leave for my children.¡±

    ¡°Children?¡± Oscar frowned, but then as realization dawned upon him his eyes moved to the ground below. They were now far too high to see it anymore, but he could just picture the huge stone creature standing rooted to the ground where they had just fled, how the black crystal in its chest pulsed with the same jade colour as the woman¡¯s eyes, almost like a heartbeat. ¡°You sent that thing after us?¡±

    ¡°The proper term for them is Necroforagers,¡± said Erymithia, and as they watched she reached into her cloak and pulled out another of the black stones that had landed on the ground in front of them. Now that Oscar really looked at it, he saw that it wasn¡¯t as smooth as it first appeared. There were strange, root-like protrusions all over it, almost like extra large veins. It looked less like a crystal and more like a calcified heart. ¡°Incredibly powerful, even more useful.¡± She held the stone to her lips and kissed it. ¡°And so beautiful.¡±

    ¡°You and the rest of the world probably have very different ideas of beauty, lady,¡± said Jon.

    A truly ugly look crept over her sharp features. She turned to them with a look of unbridled fury in her eyes. The hounds began to bark, deep, booming, bloodcurdling sounds that sent flocks of birds scattering across the late morning sky.

    The sky, which had been a brilliant, peacock-blue only moments before, was now teeming with clouds. Forks of green lightning seared through them. The very air itself felt electrified.

    Erymithia slipped the stone back into her pocket, glowering. ¡°Tell me, boys. Are you willing to die, straight-backed and proud, like your forefathers did? Or will you go kicking and screaming like your mothers?¡±

    Oscar threw out a hand to hold Jon back. The possibility that he might leap from the ventus¡¯s back and charge into the chariot seemed more and more likely with every passing moment.

    ¡°Not here, now now,¡± Oscar said quietly. ¡°We don¡¯t know what she can do, and there¡¯s nothing we would be able to do if any more of her ¡®children¡¯ are around.¡±

    ¡°So what are we supposed to do?¡± Tim asked.

    ¡°On my signal,¡± Oscar whispered. He had no sooner finished whispering his plan than the dogs charged towards them, the chariot trundling along behind as her monstrous hounds clawed along the air currents. A tree-like mass of bright green energy streamed from her palms, held out towards like them a many-pronged trident. Lightning erupted from every branch, exploding across the darkened sky and ripping into all three boys, and the ventus.

    She watched as the energy poured through their bodies, trembling violently under the force. But instead of leaving behind charred bodies, the scene in front of her dissolved into threads of purple energy instead.

    ¡°What?¡± she gasped, panic and shock alike evident in her voice. She looked around wildly, just as a surge of blinding light erupted in front of her. It was so bright, so sudden, that she was unable to defend herself from the glare. A screech of pain lit the air, her hands desperately reaching up to cover her face, but the damage had been done.

    Below her, unnoticed by her temporarily blinded eyes, the ventus streaked off along the winds in front of them, its three passengers breathing sighs of relief as they raced away, heading back to the mansion.

 Chapter 12: Aftermath

    They didn¡¯t stop riding or slow down until the highway came into view. The ventus hurtled through the sky like an emerald meteor, and Jon, Tim and Oscar watched as down below cars of every shape and colour streaked by, narrowly avoiding intense collisions. From this angle, it really was incredible how many people came so close to having their lives utterly destroyed without even knowing it.

    ¡°So that was a Harbinger?¡± Jonathan asked over the roaring wind. ¡°To be completely honest, I kind of expected something different.¡±

    ¡°You mean sadistic lady who shoots lightning and rides a chariot pulled by demon dogs wasn¡¯t threatening enough for you?¡± Tim said.

    ¡°No no, it was sufficiently threatening. I just mean I was expecting something more¡­ monstrous?¡±

    ¡°Then I guess we should be grateful, considering how much worse it could have been,¡± said Oscar. ¡°Just imagine what the others are like.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to imagine; looking back at it, I think I¡¯ve reached my quota of magical abominations for the day. Titanoboa alone was more than enough nightmare fuel.¡±

    ¡°Titanoboa?¡± Tim asked.

    ¡°Oh yeah, we never told you. There was a snake the size of a train in that river back there. Almost tore us apart.¡±

    ¡°Almost tore me apart,¡± Oscar corrected, in a tone that suggested he was making polite small talk. ¡°Just wanted to clarify that.¡±

    ¡°How did you get away?¡±

    ¡°I used my powers,¡± said Jonathan. ¡°I finally figured out how to trigger it. Still gonna take some getting used to, but I think I got the gist of how it works.¡±

    ¡°Me too,¡± said Tim. ¡°Not that there¡¯s much to it anyway. You just¡­ run.¡±

    ¡°If that was all, I don¡¯t think you¡¯d be face-planting so much into those poor, unsuspecting trees.¡± Jon clapped him on the back, his grin as wide as a cheshire cat¡¯s. Tim¡¯s smile flickered and died.

    ¡°Hey¡­ what¡¯s going on down there?¡± Oscar said. Both Tim and Jonathan looked down. There seemed to be some kind of commotion happening on the ground, somewhere to their right. From what they could see, a large number of cars was clustered in the area, unmoving. Their passengers all seemed to have climbed out of the vehicles and gathered up ahead, close to the edge of what looked like a huge crater.

    ¡°Accident?¡± Tim said.

    ¡°Or an earthquake,¡± Jon said. He squinted closer at the area, his brow furrowed. ¡°Take us down.¡±

    ¡°What if they see us?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think they¡¯re focusing on anything other than what¡¯s in the hole. Just do it.¡±

    Tim looked around at Oscar for reassurance, and the older boy simply smiled and gave him a thumbs up. Accepting that he was outvoted, Tim jerked the reins and steered the ventus in the direction of the source of the disturbance. As the gap between them and the cars closed, they could see that most of the people there were holding up their cellphones, taking pictures and videos.

    ¡°Are they serious?¡± Jonathan asked in a disgusted tone.

    Tim said nothing, but he knew that they were. He had seen it many times before: people opting to record and post scenes of tragedy instead of offering any assistance, or at the very least respecting the privacy of the victims. It made him angry.

    Skylar touched down in the grassy slopes just beside the highway They dismounted, instructed her to wait for them there, and began to covertly climb up onto the main road. But for all the notice anyone took of them, they could have ridden Skylar into the dead center of the action and no one would have realized.

    Jon tapped a random bystander on the shoulder, who was craning his neck so hard to see over the crowd ahead he resembled an ostrich.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡°Not sure, but it looks like there was an accident. From what they¡¯re saying, part of the bridge just collapsed.¡±

    ¡°Earthquake?¡±

    The man shook his head. ¡°Still waiting for the official confirmation, but nobody down here felt any tremors.¡±

    Bridges collapsing due to lack of proper maintenance wasn¡¯t exactly unheard of, Tim thought, but for it to happen on the same day they encountered a second magical creature and a Harbinger did not seem coincidental.

    ¡°Come on.¡± Oscar tapped both of them and gestured them forward. They began to weave their way through the throng, though it certainly wasn¡¯t easy with all the bystanders and clustered vehicles. Twice they nearly got into an altercation by bumping into civilians, but at last, after nearly ten minutes, they managed to reach the edge of the chasm. Police officers and paramedics were already on the scene, trying to clear the civilians away from the wreckage. They moved ahead as far as they could go, then looked down.

    Tim felt his heart sink into his stomach. Several cars were trapped, wrecked, in the gorge. Paramedics were suspended on wires trying to extricate the victims. Some were unmistakably dead, others covered in blood and screaming in agony. The rest were being assessed, then placed onto gurneys and airlifted out.

    ¡°Oh my God,¡± Jonathan said.

    ¡°Awful, isn¡¯t it,¡± said Oscar, his expression somber.

    ¡°No ¡ª look!¡± He pointed to the very center of the pit, where they could see two paramedics struggling to lift a man from the front seat of a mildly familiar vehicle. Tim squinted, peering into the depths. A spasm of shock ran through him. He recognized that man!

    ¡°It¡¯s Mr. Gibson! And ¡ª look, there¡¯s Mrs. Gibson too!¡±

    ¡°And Haley,¡± Jon said quietly. They could see her struggling against the paramedic trying to examine her, desperately reaching for her parents.

    ¡°We have to get her out of there,¡± Jon said urgently.

    ¡°But they¡¯re probably about to start treating her.¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°Haley probably hasn¡¯t started healing yet because she¡¯s wearing the bangle. But it¡¯s bound to kick in eventually. What do you think the doctors are going to say when she turns up in the room completely unscathed? Besides, if dog lady back there was able to track you while you were running, what if she finds Haley the same way she finds us? She wouldn¡¯t stand a chance, not like this.¡±

    ¡°So what do we do?¡±

    ¡°We have to cause a diversion somehow.¡±

    ¡°I can create an illusion,¡± Oscar suggested. ¡°Then when everyone is distracted, you speed her out of there,¡± he added, looking at Tim.

    ¡°I already said I don¡¯t think I can actually run with another person. It¡¯s hard enough when it¡¯s just me.¡±

    ¡°Well you definitely won¡¯t be able to with that attitude,¡± Oscar said, giving him a disapproving look. ¡°It¡¯s not for long, just until you get back to Skylar, and then we¡¯ll catch up with you.¡±

    Tim took a deep breath. He didn¡¯t believe this plan was going to work, but at the same time realized there was no point in arguing. All he could do was wait, then either the plan would work or it would fail catastrophically. No in-between.

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    Several minutes passed and finally, they watched as Haley and her parents were airlifted out. Almost immediately after being withdrawn from the pit Haley spotted them. Her eyes went wide and she made a beeline straight for them, but the paramedics held her back. Jon nodded to his brothers, then Oscar snapped his fingers. At once, an image of a limping girl drenched in blood materialized in the midst of the scene, clutching at a wound at her side. She careened towards the paramedics, but each time they tried to take hold of her she pulled away and flapped her arms violently. With the attention of the onlookers on the illusion, Tim charged off.

    He felt the energy from earlier flooding through his body once more: the speed was like an actual physical force, pumping through his veins with every beat of his heart, energizing him. The ground actually cracked beneath his feet as he leapt off, and he grabbed Haley by the arm and rushed off, across the pit and down the other side of the road.

    Tim could hear her yelling in alarm beside him, clinging desperately to him as her legs scrambled over the ground at a speed that did not belong to her.

    He raced along the grassy plains beside the highway, leaving a trail of blackened, burned grass behind them. Then finally spotting the snoozing ventus, he came to a halt. Haley let out a shriek, followed by a succession of short, sharp gasps as Tim¡¯s hands clamped her shoulders, trying to steady her.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    She took a minute to get settled. Eventually her breathing eased and her eyes focused on him, large and terrified.

    ¡°Is it like that every time you run?¡±

    ¡°Pretty much. It¡¯s weird, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°So weird. Do you ever get used to it.¡±

    ¡°Not really,¡± Tim said honestly.

    She stood upright, looking around. ¡°Why did you bring me out here? My parents ¡ª¡±

    ¡°We had to get you out. Eventually you would have started healing and it could have exposed you. I¡¯m sorry about your parents though. What happened back there? Was it another monster attack?¡±

    She hesitated. Her eyes filled with tears and she whispered, ¡°It was me. I did it.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean? How?¡±

    ¡°My parents. I ¡ª I thought they wanted to help, but they only agreed to come with us so they could use it as a distraction to run off. I got angry at them, and then this horrible earthquake hit. It destroyed the road, and all those people who were on the road with us, my parents ¡ª I hurt them, all of them. Some of them¡­ some of them died.¡±

    Tim opened his mouth to speak but found no words would come out. In a moment like this he knew he should have tried to comfort her, to assure her that it wasn¡¯t her fault, but somehow that felt disingenuous to say.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t mean to,¡± he said. ¡°It was an accident.¡±

    ¡°Accidents happen when you break some china, or bump into someone when you¡¯re walking. I ruined their lives. How can you say that was an accident?¡±

    Tears were now pouring down her face in earnest.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Haley. I¡¯m really ¡ª¡±

    He broke off as she flung herself forward and hugged him, like a child clinging to their parents He tried to return the hug, awkwardly patting her on the head as she broke down completely. They stayed like that for a few minutes as she cried, then split apart at the sound of approaching footsteps. It was Jon and Oscar.

    Haley quickly tried to wipe her tears away, but remnants of the evidence remained. Luckily, demonstrating a level of tact he didn¡¯t know they possessed, neither of them made any reference to it.

    ¡°Your parents were taken in the ambulance,¡± said Jonathan. ¡°I asked the paramedic, they¡¯re stable for now and they¡¯re heading to a place called White Willow Medical Center. It¡¯s not too far from here.¡±

    Haley nodded.

    ¡°Do you want to ¡ª¡±

    ¡°No. No. I just want to go home,¡± she said, her voice cracking. ¡°To the mansion I mean.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Of course. Let¡¯s go,¡± Tim said.

    ¡°I texted my dad too,¡± Jon added. ¡°They¡¯re going to catch a bus and meet us there.¡±

    ¡°Saddle up then,¡± said Oscar, gesturing at Skylar.

    <hr>

    No one spoke on the way to the mansion. Haley had stopped crying, but in place of her tears she now wore a blank, expressionless look that worried Tim far more. They found the Medinas and the Combses at the mansion, but the others didn¡¯t arrive until almost two hours after Skylar touched down in the front yard. It was an extremely agitating wait, but they passed the time by filling in the other families about what had transpired. There was a slight hesitation when it came to mentioning that they encountered one of the Harbingers, but they finally went over the topic of Erymithia. The Combses looked horrified at the news, but the Medinas looked as dreamy and unconcerned as ever.

    At last they heard footsteps in the front yard, then the door opened and in filed Lauren, Sytris, Mr. Whitmore and Tim¡¯s parents. Ignoring the stares of everyone else in the room, Tim ran to greet his parents and embraced them in a firm hug.

    ¡°You did great, Tim,¡± said his father, gripping his shoulder. ¡°I knew you could do it. I ¡ª we¡¯re proud of you.¡±

    ¡°As am I, Lord Lenos,¡± Sytris said. ¡°I knew you could do it.¡±

    Tim tried to look modest, but could not suppress the grin that curved its way across his face. Lauren stepped forward. For a moment he thought maybe she was going to congratulate him too, but then she said, ¡°Where are Mr. and Mrs. Gibson?¡±

    The warm glow that had briefly flared inside Tim died instantly. Everyone looked around at Haley, who looked away. Silence spiraled horribly. Eventually Jonathan spoke instead.

    ¡°There was an accident. Non-monster related,¡± he added quickly, seeing the worried looks on their faces. ¡°They were taken to a hospital nearby.¡±

    ¡°Oh Haley, I¡¯m sorry,¡± said Mr. Combs. ¡°Are you doing ¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m doing fine. Can we talk about something else please?¡±

    Perhaps she had meant it to sound snappish, but her voice only issued weak and hoarse.

    ¡°Of ¡ª of course.¡±

    There was another, very brief pause, which Sytris broke. He looked around at Jon and Oscar and said, ¡°So, I sincerely hope that for all this trouble, your excursion was worth it. Are you going to tell us whatever it was for?¡±

    ¡°It was my fault,¡± Jon said, as Oscar opened his mouth to speak. ¡°I asked Oscar for help earlier, when I saw that I wasn¡¯t making much progress in training. He told me about a different method and we left to try it.¡±

    ¡°And were you successful?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, actually. We were attacked by another magical creature but I managed to handle it. Well, we both did.¡± He gestured at Oscar too. ¡°I think I¡¯ve got the basics of my abilities down now.¡±

    Mr. Whitmore, who looked furious, seemed to be fighting the urge to smile. ¡°Well, I¡¯m still not happy that you left without telling anybody, but at the very least you boys came out fine.¡±

    ¡°Not entirely,¡± Tim said. He knew that the conversation would steer towards this topic eventually, but he still cast a nervous look at his brothers before he spoke. ¡°We met one of them today: a Harbinger.¡±

    The atmosphere of the room changed so suddenly and so dramatically it was almost astonishing.

    ¡°You did?¡± said Mr. Bryant, in a tone Tim had never heard him use before.

    ¡°Her name was Erymthia,¡± Jon said. ¡°Weird silver hair, even weirder dogs that looked like they were ripped straight from a horror movie. Tried to kill us, we got away, no biggie.¡±

    ¡°No biggie?¡± said Mr. Whitmore loudly. ¡°Jonny, you realize that this was the whole reason you were brought here right? The whole reason you were separated in the first place? To protect you from these people? To give you time to get ready to fight them, in case you needed to? Your whole jaunt into town completely rendered the last twelve years of sacrifice and preparation useless!¡±

    Judging by Jonathan¡¯s reaction, Mr. Whitmore wasn¡¯t usually the type of parent to get this angry.

    ¡°I know, I¡¯m sorry Dad.¡±

    It was the first time Tim had ever seen Jonathan so meek. Usually he would have rebutted with some kind of sarcasm, or witty snark. Even Mr. Whitmore seemed taken aback by the response. His angry demeanour faded away.

    ¡°I don¡¯t need you to be sorry, I need you to be safe. You can¡¯t go doing things like this again. The fact is for the last twelve years we¡¯ve been operating under the belief that maybe they didn¡¯t know you were out there. That by concealing your magical sides you could effectively be invisible to them. That advantage ¡ª if we ever had it ¡ª is gone now. We¡¯re going to have to be a lot more careful now.¡±

    ¡°But that only solves part of the problem,¡± Sytris said. ¡°The other part, as we all know, is that even if you remain here and keep a low profile, there is still a strong risk posed to you: yourselves. Until you are in total control of your abilities, you can very much be a danger to yourselves and each other. Lady Iduna, for example.¡± All eyes turned to Haley, who looked up in surprise. ¡°Non-monster related incident, was it? What really happened?¡±

    She glared at him through red eyes, her expression furious. But then, just as it had with Mr. Whitmore, her anger evaporated.

    ¡°I did it. Are you happy now? It was me.¡±

    Sytris certainly didn¡¯t look happy. In fact, he looked as detached as he usually did, but Haley continued speaking anyway.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to, but¡­ I caused the accident. It was my fault.¡± Her words broke off into a small gasp, and tears started working their way down her face once more.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Lady Iduna. I truly am. But this is something that can happen to all of you, and only a select few of us in this household can actually heal.¡±

    ¡°What are you saying?¡± Mr. Whitmore asked, eyebrows knitted.

    ¡°I¡¯m saying that for the time being, until they are more versed in exercising control over what they can do, the rest of you would be safer elsewhere.¡±

    ¡°You want us to leave?¡± Mr. Combs asked, while several of the other parents let out noises of incredulity.

    ¡°Absolutely not,¡± said Mr. Whitmore at once. ¡°How could you even think to ask ¡ª¡±

    ¡°I was simply advising you of the danger,¡± Sytris said calmly. ¡°If you choose to stay, that is entirely up to you. But remember that whatever happens, is also on you. For the meantime, you can all get some rest. It¡¯s been a very challenging day.¡± With that he turned and strode out of the room, leaving a tense silence behind.

 Chapter 13: Echoes of the Past

    Lauren wasn¡¯t usually one to call an early night, but today¡¯s exceptional circumstances meant she couldn¡¯t bring herself to stay up for much longer. Between what had happened to Haley and the boys, it seemed that she was the only one who hadn¡¯t experienced some form of immense trauma today. After hearing Jonathan¡¯s recount of being attacked by a colossal sea serpent, a virtually indestructible rock monster, and a Harbinger, it had driven all thought of her own troubles squarely out of her mind. How could she even think to mention such a trivial matter when Haley was somewhere across the hall, dreading the possibility that she may have killed her parents?

    She hadn¡¯t been particularly fond of Mr. and Mrs. Gibson, but she would never wish such a fate upon anyone. Lauren couldn¡¯t imagine what she would do if something had happened to her parents ¡ª or worse, if she had been the one to cause it.

    Not that she could anyway¡­ And once again, the thoughts she had been pushing back against all day came drifting back into her mind, whose mental defenses had been weakened by the bombshell of bad news that had been dropped on them. Tim, Oscar, Haley, and Jonathan all had such amazing powers, even though she hadn¡¯t witnessed them all directly, but what she had heard was enough to paint a fairly vivid picture. What was she supposed to do in the event of an actual fight, compared to them?

    Even without training or any real experience, her siblings lived up to the title of ¡°gods¡± far more than she ever could. At best, she was a walking memoir. Not really that impressive, unless you counted being able to see what they had for breakfast a few days ago.

    Lauren ripped off her covers and began to pace back and forth across the room, her footsteps muffled by the thick velvet carpet. She wanted to sleep but her brain was far too restless to allow that. If their story was any indicator, the Harbingers were more dangerous than anything they had imagined. What were the others like, if Erymithia alone had been so terrifying? If the rest were as bad, or worse, then it was obvious she would be the weakest link among the five. She had no combative abilities, and while her spear possessed incredible powers, somehow she felt that it wouldn¡¯t be enough.

    ¡°What am I supposed to do?¡± she whispered to herself as she continued to pace, deliberating. She ran her fingers through her hair, which fell in curly sheets to her shoulders, no longer being supported by her hairclip.

    Sytris had gathered them with the intention of preparing them for a supernatural war, to give them the chance to take down the Harbingers once and for all and ensure their survival. But how could she? Her heart stopped if she so much as felt an insect crawling on her. She was no warrior goddess, and her powers were heartbreakingly lackluster. She was dead weight.

    Lauren sank onto the bed as the realization settled in her mind. It penetrated her consciousness more easily than she would have thought. Usually whenever she doubted herself, a small voice in her mind would have piped up, trying to offer some feeble form of reassurance. It seemed that voice had already turned into bed.

    Sytris had informed them that their parents couldn¡¯t remain at the mansion for fear of their own wellbeing. But now she realized that she couldn¡¯t stay either. How could she? What would she have to offer, once they faced the Harbingers again, which was inevitable?

    Stop it, she snapped at herself. This was what she always did. Overthink. Overanalyze. Jump to the worst conclusions. But in that moment the conclusion she had reached was simply the only logical one. She had to leave.

    A knock outside burst in on her thoughts. Lauren jumped, but regained her composure quickly enough.

    ¡°It¡¯s open.¡±

    The doorknob twisted. In the infinitesimal pause before the door swung open, a myriad of images flashed through her mind of potential visitors. The face that greeted her was the last she had expected to appear at this time of night: pale, strong-jawed, and set with a pair of icy blue eyes.

    ¡°Hello, Lady Mnemosyne. I thought that you would have been asleep by now, but I¡¯m glad I was wrong. I wished to speak with you ¡ª in private.¡±

    Lauren was taken aback, not just by this unexpected appearance, but by the fact that Sytris had apparently been seeking a one-on-one with her of all people.

    ¡°Oh. Uh¡­ sure, I guess.¡±

    Sytris closed the door gently behind him and stepped forward into the room. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts, and in the brief pause that ensued Lauren¡¯s thoughts spiraled horribly in contrast.

    ¡°I wanted to thank you.¡±

    ¡°For what?¡±

    ¡°For your support yesterday. It meant more than you could ever know.¡±

    Lauren struggled for a moment to find the right words, then simply settled on, ¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡±

    A small smile curved his lips. ¡°It reminded me of when you were all younger. Even as children you would take charge, correcting your siblings, helping them, leading them. It is what is expected of an older sibling, naturally. And though it isn¡¯t an easy task, you always rose to the occasion. So, I¡¯m wondering if you believe you are still up to that task.¡±

    Lauren stared at him, her surprise deepening. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ I¡¯m not really sure I could do that. We¡¯ve known each other for less than two days. I don¡¯t really have the right to exercise Big Sis authority just yet, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    ¡°I know. I understand that it will be a difficult task. Your siblings are uncertain, as are you, and rightfully so. Your world has changed so much in so little time, and you¡¯re confused. Naturally so. But I did mean it when I said you will only conquer your upcoming trials if you are working together. I am aware that it is a heavy burden to bear, to be tasked with restoring everyone¡¯s memories and now this. But I know you can do it. I wouldn¡¯t be here right now if I didn¡¯t believe you were the best person for the job.¡±

    Lauren said nothing. She turned away, trying not to look too pleased with herself. ¡°What would you need me to do?¡±

    ¡°Just reach out to them. Help them understand. Avoid repeats of what happened today. We all need to be on the same page, if we are ever going to succeed.¡±

    Lauren bit down on her tongue, thinking. ¡°Okay,¡± she said at last. ¡°I can try.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± he said, bowing deeply. ¡°It is much appreciated Milady.¡±

    ¡°You know¡­¡± She was about to say the formality wasn¡¯t necessary, but remembered that she had said it before. Several times. ¡°Never mind. But while we work on that, do you think maybe we can start our training tomorrow? We never really got a chance to earlier today, you know with all the craziness that happened.¡±

    For the first time she thought she saw a flicker of hesitation cross his face, but his gaze was quite steady as he adopted a kind of sympathetic smile. ¡°Perhaps not yet. After what happened with Lady Iduna and Lord Orus, they¡¯re going to require a lot more attention. They pose the greatest danger to themselves and us.¡±

    ¡°I completely understand, it¡¯s fine,¡± Lauren lied.

    He bowed again. ¡°Good night, Milady.¡±

    ¡°Good night.¡±

    <hr>

    The next few days passed by without much excitement, unless you counted Jonathan accidentally melting a hole in the oven with a poorly aimed light blast. Haley didn¡¯t speak much, but no one tried to force conversation. Mr. Whitmore had offered to give her a ride to the hospital so that she could check in on her parents, but she had declined. He had gone in her stead, and returned later that evening with news that they were still alive, but comatose.

    Haley quickly excused herself, but they caught a glimpse of the sudden rush of tears before she managed to make it out of the room.

    Lauren wanted to help, but she understood that in cases like this people needed their space. Haley would come to them when she was ready ¡ª or at least, so she hoped ¡ª and when she did they would be ready to help in any way they could. While she waited for Haley to come around, she focused her efforts on her brothers.

    As Oscar already possessed a great deal of control over his abilities, he was the only one who didn¡¯t have to attend training sessions with Sytris. She tried to learn more about him over the next few days, but saw that they didn¡¯t have much in the way of conversation topics without bringing up some kind of drug, or movies that were made long before they were born. According to him, the old movies had a unique charm to them that modern films couldn¡¯t replicate. She made a mental note to circle back to Oscar a bit later.

    Then there was Tim. He seemed the most emotionally adjusted of them all, but he also seemed more introverted. She knew that she couldn¡¯t force him, but trying to gently coax him out of his shell was yielding no results either.

    Jonathan was another impossible nut to crack. Unlike Oscar, who was extremely laid back, he had a defensive streak about him. His arsenal boasted an expansive number of weapons, which included sarcasm, deflection, and general snark, all of which succeeded in shutting a conversation down before it even began.

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    Overall she didn¡¯t think she was doing as good a job with them as Sytris hoped, but she never mentioned this when he asked how things were going.

    ¡°I think I¡¯m starting to make some real progress,¡± she would say, with a huge fake smile that she was amazed Sytris hadn¡¯t seen through yet.

    What she really needed was a catalyst, something she could use to kick-start the bonding process that didn¡¯t involve their lives being in mortal danger. But they all had such drastically different interests and personalities. It wasn¡¯t something she could force, but Lauren had no clue how to do it organically either. Five nights had passed since they arrived at the mansion, and on the sixth she laid herself to rest, her mind teeming with half-formed plans that seemed just as futile as the ones she had already attempted. At this stage there was no point thinking about it any longer. She would get a well-needed and well-deserved rest, then try again tomorrow, even if the result would be another seething failure.

    Lauren fell asleep rather quickly, which was a relief given that the day had been filled with awkwardness and disappointment. Usually she wouldn¡¯t rush to sleep this soon, because sleep meant dreaming and dreaming meant revisiting that horrible scene of running through a dark alleyway while a horrible stone gargoyle chased her.

    Most unhelpfully, her brain had taken to adding in details that were not present at the time of the attack, such as making the gargoyle larger than life and the addition of a bone-chilling evil cackle that echoed down the street as she ran.

    In these variations of the dreams Sytris never showed up to her aid, so it was up to her dream self to run as fast as her legs could carry her to the nearest hiding place. But it never worked. No matter where she went, the gargoyle would catch her, and that was when she would wake up drenched in cold sweat. This time was different however. It started out the way it usually did, but somewhere along the line the dark alley melted away. The dream was formless for a while, but then it started to take shape¡­

    Couches, an entertainment center and a huge, glass coffee table materialized, followed by walls and a coffered ceiling to form a rather small living room. There was no colour; it was like a scene from the black-and-white movies Oscar loved. There was something vaguely familiar about this room. Lauren stood in the center, gazing around.

    She had never had this dream before. Was she still dreaming? She always had some sense of lucidity in her dreams before, but now she felt completely aware, as if she was actually standing in this dingy little room.

    A part of her felt like she knew this room, but from where¡­?

    Her silent vigil was interrupted by a dry sob. Lauren started and looked around. The sound was coming from the corner of the room, its source hidden by one of the couches. It occurred to her that in a case like this the sensible course of action would have been to hightail it out of there, but she couldn¡¯t resist. It was like her legs had taken on a mind of their own, steering her forward.

    A little girl was sitting in the corner, her head bowed and her arms wrapped around her knees. There was a stuffed toy on the ground to her left, and the remnants of what looked like a tablet was to her right.

    ¡°Hello,¡± Lauren said, approaching slowly so as not to scare her. ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    The girl made no response, only continued to cry.

    ¡°My name is Lauren. What¡¯s yours?¡±

    Again the girl did not react.

    ¡°If you tell me what¡¯s wrong, maybe I can help,¡± said Lauren. But for all the notice the girl took of her, she might as well have been invisible. Lauren bent lower to speak with her, but before she could say anything further another voice floated into the room.

    ¡°Lauren?¡±

    Lauren whipped around. So did the girl. Lauren gasped.  She had seen the young girl¡¯s face for the first time and her heart skipped a beat. She recognized her heart-shaped face, her upturned eyes and the curly hair tied back into pigtails. She recognized them because she possessed those same features, only more defined with age. Her confusion turned at once into comprehension. There was only one explanation for what had happened: she was inside a memory.

    She watched silently as young Lauren rubbed her knees and stood up as the approaching footsteps got louder.

    ¡°There you are,¡± said the man. Lauren received another great shock.

    Her father could only have been a few years younger at this point, but he looked as if twenty years had been taken off. His face was smooth and instead of his neatly shaven beard he was instead sporting a rather silly goatee. Lauren had a strange and powerful urge to laugh, but fought it down.

    ¡°What happened, Lauren?¡±

    ¡°It broke,¡± pouted young Lauren, puffing out her cheeks. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to. It was an accident.¡± She was pointing at the tablet, which the older Lauren now saw had actually been torn apart. Her father knelt down and inspected the damage, his jaw halfway towards the floor. ¡°Broken¡± was an understatement. It was absolutely wrecked.

    ¡°You did this?¡± he said, looking at her with disbelief etched across his sharp features.

    ¡°I was just playing with it and it snapped. I¡¯m sorry Daddy.¡±

    ¡°You know you¡¯re not supposed to ¡ª Lauren, where¡¯s your hairclip?¡± he said suddenly, a note of panic in his voice now.

    ¡°Upstairs, I took it off when ¡ª¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to take it off, Lauren. Under any circumstance, do you understand?¡±

    She looked a little startled, but young Lauren nodded anyway. Now her father looked slightly ashamed of himself.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, honey. I just meant¡­ It¡¯s a very important item. It was a gift from someone very special. I don¡¯t want you to take it off anymore, okay?¡±

    She nodded again.

    ¡°What do you say we go get some ice-cream, huh?¡±

    Like clockwork, Lauren¡¯s entire expression shifted dramatically. Smiling, Mr. Combs scooped her up and headed upstairs, most likely to retrieve the discarded hairclip. Lauren wanted to follow them but remained where she was, taking in the room around her. This wasn¡¯t where they lived now. The room design was completely different, as was the furniture. They must have moved at some point but Lauren couldn¡¯t remember this house at all. She glided around, silent as a ghost, observing.

    The living room was rather messy. There were clothes scattered on the coffee-coloured sofas, which had been placed at odd angles around the room. Half-open cardboard boxes lined the carpet-less floor, their contents spilling over.

    She also noticed that no curtains had been put up, except the one that had been drawn over the living room window. It gave the distinct impression that they had recently arrived here and had not finished unpacking.

    Peering more closely around, Lauren spotted the stuffed animal her younger self had left behind. She picked it up, then let out a gasp of surprise. As she made contact colour flooded into it. It was not a teddy bear as she had suspected, but a bright purple octopus wearing a coat, complete with top hat and monocle.

    ¡°Mr. Wiggles,¡± she breathed. Then she blinked. She had no idea how she had known its name; she didn¡¯t even remember owning this toy in the first place.

    Before she could do anything else, the walls around her began to fade. Darkness flooded in, then a new scene began to construct itself, also in black and white. This time there were no walls. Instead, layers of sand sprawled out in front of her, with a churning sea to her right. There were countless people on the beach, laughing, playing volleyball or tanning It didn¡¯t take long to find her family.

    There was Lauren, younger than she was now but definitely older than she had been in the last memory. She was building a sand castle with great enthusiasm, her hair clip fixed firmly in place.

    She actually remembered this. Well, some of it anyway.

    Behind her sat her parents. Her mother looked relaxed but her father was tense. His eyes kept darting all over, as if he was expecting some kind of attack. She moved closer when she realized her mother was speaking.

    ¡°Lighten up, Andy. We¡¯re at the beach. We¡¯re supposed to be having fun.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe I let you talk me into this.¡±

    ¡°Oh come on.¡± She rolled her eyes in exasperation. ¡°It¡¯s been three weeks. You can¡¯t really expect us to stay boxed up inside forever?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not forever, just until ¡ª¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s safe? There¡¯s no way to guarantee that, but we can¡¯t put our lives on hold just because she might be in danger every now and then. The best thing we can do is be there for her, do our best to detect the threats as soon as possible. But there¡¯s no way to completely prevent them.¡±

    ¡°And put our faith in some hairclip?¡±

    ¡°That is not just ¡®some hairclip¡¯ and you know it.¡±

    Lauren knelt down beside her father. She reached out to touch him experimentally, and just as it had with Mr. Wiggles his body was suddenly flushed with colour. He looked pale and strained. He didn¡¯t notice anything though; he continued with the conversation, oblivious to Lauren¡¯s presence.

    ¡°Do I need to remind you what¡¯s lurking out there?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± sighed her mother. ¡°Because you already did. A record number of 500 times just today.¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t a joke, Melissa,¡± he hissed. ¡°We¡¯ve had to move three times in the last eight months. If this keeps up she¡¯s going to start suspecting something¡¯s up. The last one got inside our home. If I hadn¡¯t gone downstairs when I did ¡ª¡±

    Her mother sat up sharply, dropping the magazine she had been absently flicking through.

    ¡°I know, Andrew. I know. But Sytris told us that he wanted us to give her the best life she could have. We can¡¯t do that if she has to stay cooped up twenty-four/seven. It¡¯s not fair to take the opportunity to enjoy her childhood from her, especially without even explaining why. She deserves to have fun, to make friends, to be a kid. If you¡¯re that concerned about it, then we can take some extra precautions at home. But we¡¯re not going to put her life on hold, keep her locked up in her tower like some princess. Especially since as you mentioned, the last one got inside the house didn¡¯t it?¡±

    She raised her eyebrows and looked at him expectantly. There was a moment¡¯s hesitation, then he sighed.

    ¡°Fine. We¡¯ll just have to ¡ª¡±

    But what they had to do, Lauren never found out. The entire scene was crumbling again. Her parents flickered and disappeared, then the scene faded. Her eyes jerked awake and she sat bolt upright with a gasp. At the same time, several other figures around her bed started too.

    ¡°Wha ¡ª what¡¯s going on? Why are you all in my room?¡±

    Tim, Jon and Oscar were all there, looking shocked. On the other side of her room, however, was the present-day version of her father and Sytris, caught somewhere between relief and apprehension.

    ¡°Dad, what are you¡­¡±

    ¡°Lauren, oh thank God you¡¯re awake. How do you feel?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m fine. Why?¡±

    Her brothers exchanged dark looks.

    ¡°Will someone tell me what¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡°Honey, did something happen before you went to bed? Anything out of the ordinary?¡±

    ¡°N-no. Everything was fine.¡± But they were still looking at her as if afraid she would spontaneously combust. ¡°Okay you guys are really creeping me out. What is going on? Why are you all acting so weird?¡±

    ¡°Lauren,¡± said Jonathan, in a tone more serious than any she had ever heard him use. ¡°You were asleep for two days.¡±

 Chapter 14: The Forge

    Lauren stared at them, disbelief etched in every line of her face, which had pillow marks across it. Her eyes were red and puffy and her hair, usually sleek and shining, looked as if she had narrowly escaped a battle with a weed whacker.

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± She sounded more impatient than surprised, as if she thought they were merely playing some kind of practical joke. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make any sense. I was out for a few hours, that¡¯s all.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re telling the truth, Lauren,¡± said Mr. Combs. Tim thought he would have been relieved to see his daughter awake at last, but if anything he actually looked more concerned. ¡°What happened when you went to sleep? Did you feel any drowsiness? Have you been fatigued lately?¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Lauren said, ripping off her covers and standing up so fast that nearly everyone jumped. Sytris was the only outlier. He didn¡¯t look surprised in the slightest, but instead was watching her with a shrewd look on his face. ¡°I said this isn¡¯t funny, guys.¡±

    ¡°If I may, Lady Mnemosyne,¡± Sytris said. ¡°There is a very simple solution to prove that we are not joking. What day was it when you went to bed?¡± Lauren rolled her eyes but he held up his hand. ¡°Humour me. Please.¡±

    ¡°It was Tuesday, as I¡¯m sure you all know.¡±

    Struck by a sudden thought, Tim pulled out his phone, opened the lock screen and held it out to her. She peered at it with a measure of reluctance, then her brow furrowed. Her anger dissipated almost instantly, replaced by confusion.

    ¡°Friday? But that¡¯s¡­ No, that¡¯s ¡ª that¡¯s not possible. I was only out for a few hours, I swear.¡±

    ¡°And what happened during that time?¡± Sytris asked. ¡°Were you dreaming or ¡ª?¡±

    ¡°No. At least not the whole time. It started as a dream and then it kind of changed. I was reliving old memories, things I forgot about a long time ago.¡±

    ¡°Reliving them?¡± Sytris said, with an uncharacteristic sharpness to his tone. ¡°How so?¡±

    ¡°It was like I was inside a movie. I could see my younger self and everyone else in the memories, talking and moving around, but none of them could see me. I could touch them though, even though they didn¡¯t notice. And something weird happened whenever I did. At first all the memories were black and white, but the instant I made contact with something it changed colour.¡±

    ¡°Well it definitely sounds like it has something to do with your powers,¡± added Jonathan.

    ¡°But to be trapped in your own memories for over 48 hours¡­¡± Mr. Combs looked horrified at the thought. ¡°And without even realizing it. Has anything like this happened before, Lauren?¡±

    ¡°Not that I can remember.¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t risk something like this happening again. What if it¡¯s four days next time, or what if you don¡¯t wake up at all? Sytris, I think we should take a deeper look into this.¡±

    To Tim¡¯s immense surprise, Sytris actually shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m not so sure. If your powers are the reason you were out of commission for the last two days, then I don¡¯t think it¡¯s wise to try to tap into them again so soon.¡±

    ¡°On the contrary, I think that¡¯s exactly what we should be doing,¡± Mr. Combs said, looking as if he couldn¡¯t believe his ears. ¡°And well past time too. You¡¯ve started working with everyone else, why shouldn¡¯t you start with Lauren too? None of the other children are at risk of falling into comas because of their abilities, are they?¡±

    ¡°Lady Mnemosyne¡¯s powers are based in the mind, which means they will be much more difficult to control than anyone else¡¯s under this roof. If we are to start training it will have to be under carefully controlled circumstances, to prevent anything like this from happening in a wider scale.¡±

    Her father was about to respond, but Lauren, who had sank onto her bed, stood up once more. ¡°Dad, it¡¯s fine. It doesn¡¯t matter anyway.¡±

    ¡°But it should!¡± he said furiously. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have to be anyone¡¯s second priority!¡±

    ¡°And she won¡¯t be. But everything takes time. Lady Mnemosyne will have her ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Her name is Lauren!¡± her father said even more loudly.

    ¡°That¡¯s enough!¡± snapped Lauren. ¡°Please, can everyone just go. I¡¯d like to be by myself right now.¡±

    There was a very short, charged silence. Finally Sytris bowed.

    ¡°Of course Milady. In the meantime, I shall do a bit of research to determine the most efficient method of helping you. I¡¯ll have to leave but I should be back in a few hours.¡±

    They filed out of Lauren¡¯s room, which she shut with a snap behind them. Mr. Combs gave Sytris one last withering look and stormed away. Ignoring this, Sytris nodded to the three boys and swept away. All three began to walk in the same direction, though much more slowly than he had. Silence pervaded the corridor for a while, then Tim spoke.

    ¡°Can you make anything of this? Getting trapped in memories?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to make of anything anymore,¡± Jonathan said, rubbing his eye. ¡°But I don¡¯t see why he doesn¡¯t want to start training her, especially after what happened.¡±

    ¡°Well, seeing as he¡¯s the only one in this house with experience in the supernatural, I¡¯d say he has the best judgment in this situation right?¡±

    ¡°Except he¡¯s not. Oscar managed to learn what he could do all on his own, and he helped me figure out how my abilities work too.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think shooting you up with laughing gas is what anyone would call an efficient method,¡± said Tim. ¡°No offense,¡± he added to Oscar, who shrugged and flashed a toothy grin.

    ¡°I¡¯d say the best method is anything that gives you the results you want, little brother.¡±

    ¡°The point,¡± Jon said, with a huff of irritation, ¡°is that maybe he doesn¡¯t know everything he thinks he does.¡± He came to a halt. ¡°Or,¡± he added after a dramatic pause, ¡°maybe he knows more than he¡¯s letting on.¡±

    Tim frowned at him, then exchanged a look with Oscar, who looked equally as bewildered. ¡°What are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°Ever since we¡¯ve met him, something¡¯s bugged me. I can¡¯t put my finger on what exactly but¡­ I don¡¯t like him.¡±

    ¡°I mean, he¡¯s not my favourite person either but ¡ª¡±

    ¡°No no. That¡¯s not what I mean. I ¡ª¡± Jon paused once more, glancing around as if to make sure no one was eavesdropping. Then he leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, ¡°I don¡¯t trust him. There¡¯s something off about him.¡±

    ¡°Like what?¡± Tim asked, utterly dumbfounded.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. But I get a really bad feeling from him.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s all?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, frustrating isn¡¯t it?¡± Jonathan gave him a very pointed look and Tim held up his arms in surrender.

    ¡°Okay, okay. I get the picture. But what do you think he might be hiding? He¡¯s our birth parents¡¯ servant right? He¡¯s following their instructions and he holds them in high regard.¡±

    ¡°Disturbingly high regard, in fact,¡± Oscar added.

    ¡°Exactly. Even though he vetted and hand-picked the couples he wanted to raise us, he doesn¡¯t even entertain the idea of calling them our parents. He¡¯s trying to convince them to leave the house, and he doesn¡¯t even call us by our real names. He¡¯s completely latched on to the past and ignores the lives we¡¯ve built in the present.¡±

    Tim paused, taking it all in and turning it over in his mind. Jon had good points but he couldn¡¯t see why there would be a malicious reason why Sytris held his current views.

    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s say you¡¯re right and there¡¯s more to the story. What then? He clearly doesn¡¯t want to hurt us. He¡¯s had every opportunity, and he flips out every time we even think about leaving the house.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know the why. I just think there¡¯s more to the story.¡±

    ¡°Okay, so how do we get the rest of the story?¡± Oscar asked.

    Jon placed his hand on his chin for a moment and considered. For a moment Tim actually believed he might have come up with an amazing idea. Then he said, ¡°Not a clue¡± and the glow of hope inside him died instantly. ¡°I just wish we could remember, then we could know exactly what kind of person he is. But he made Lauren remove our memories, and she doesn¡¯t know how to restore them because he¡¯s conveniently pushing her training as far back as he can go.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t think that¡¯s on purpose, do you?¡± Tim said. This conspiracy was getting worse and worse with every passing minute.

    ¡°Think about it. His excuse is that Haley and I pose an immediate threat, so we need the most attention. But aside from a minor mishap with the oven I haven¡¯t had any issues for the last few days, and Haley barely leaves her room except for training. So where¡¯s the danger?¡±

    Tim held up his hands. There was only so much he could handle in a given day and he felt as if he had actually exceeded his quota already. ¡°Let¡¯s just slow down for a moment. We don¡¯t have proof of anything, remember? It¡¯s all just a hunch.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Jon said. But Tim wasn¡¯t reassured; there was a glint in his brother¡¯s eyes that he didn¡¯t like at all. ¡°We need to find proof.¡±

    ¡°No, no that¡¯s not what I ¡ª¡±

    But he wasn¡¯t listening. A look of resolve on his face, Jon turned and headed down the rightward corridor, which led, if memory served correctly, down to Sytris¡¯s quarters. Tim looked at Oscar for help, but he merely shrugged again, eyebrows raised. The pair followed.

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°What are you doing? Please don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re going to try to go through his things.¡±

    ¡°Okay, I won¡¯t tell you. But only because you asked.¡±

    ¡°No! That¡¯s a major invasion of privacy. And what if he finds out?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re so doom and gloom all the time. How are we even related?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m serious, Jon. I ¡ª¡±

    A door opened behind them and they jumped. Haley¡¯s face emerged from the room; her hair was messy and her eyes were as red as Lauren¡¯s, but for very different reasons.

    ¡°Hey Haley,¡± Jon said, in a strangely soft tone. ¡°How are you doing?¡±

    ¡°I feel like crap,¡± she said, managing a wan smile. ¡°But thanks for asking. How¡¯s Lauren? Is she ¡ª?¡±

    ¡°Awake at last. Didn¡¯t believe us at first though, when we told her what happened.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good. Did you find out what happened to her?¡±

    ¡°Turns out she was trapped inside her own memories the whole time.¡± Haley¡¯s eyebrows furrowed. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s weird. But she¡¯s okay now.¡±

    Haley nodded. Tim thought she was going to ask more questions about Lauren¡¯s condition, but instead she said, ¡°Are you three seriously planning to raid Sytris¡¯s room?¡±

    They exchanged looks of surprise.

    ¡°How did you know that?¡±

    ¡°As the goddess of nature, I can detect sounds through vibrations in the ground.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Tim said, amazed.

    ¡°No, I heard you talking, meathead. You guys are terrible whisperers.¡±

    ¡°We weren¡¯t actually planning to ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yes we were,¡± Jon spoke over him, elbowing him in the side. ¡°Just to find out more about what¡¯s going on. He¡¯s supposed to be our caretaker and we don¡¯t know anything about him, we have a right to know. Is that going to be a problem?¡±

    ¡°That depends,¡± Haley said with a shrewd look. ¡°Can I come with?¡±

    Jon looked taken aback for only a second. ¡°Well ¡ª yeah. But are you sure? I mean¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure. Crying in your room for days on end is fun and all but it does get old after a while. A good destruction of privacy is just what I need to get my mind off things.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think this is a good idea,¡± Tim said stubbornly.

    Jonathan scoffed, then flashed a mischievous grin. ¡°I knew it. He¡¯s chicken.¡±

    ¡°I am not chicken. If anything I¡¯m an owl. You know, wise and thoughtful.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, okay. Let¡¯s go.¡±

    He grabbed hold of Tim¡¯s shoulders and steered him down the opposite direction.

    Timothy¡¯s feeble protests were completely ignored as Jon led the way down the remainder of the hall, still firmly clamping onto his shoulders, with Haley and Oscar in tow. Despite his objections, a very small part of him was actually intrigued to see what they would find. Even though this was a massive overstep and an invasion of Sytris¡¯s boundaries, it was as Jon said: they didn¡¯t know anything about him, and he clearly didn¡¯t like to speak of the past.

    Eventually they came to a halt, just outside a door that looked as ordinary as the others they had passed. Or as ¡°ordinary¡± as one could be in a resplendent mansion. It had a classic but elegant design, made of a strip of gleaming mahogany and complete with a knocker in the shape of a swan.

    Jon reached for the handle and gave it a very slight push. It creaked forward, just an inch.

    ¡°Huh, I thought he would have locked it.¡±

    ¡°Or maybe he left it open because he trusted his house-mates enough to not pry through his stuff,¡± Tim hissed.

    Jon heaved a huge fake sigh. ¡°You know what, Timothy. You¡¯re right. We shouldn¡¯t be doing this, let¡¯s go back and ¡ª ah look at that, door¡¯s already open, too late.¡± With a mischievous smirk on his face, he ushered them into the room. Haley and Oscar entered at once, and after a moment of indecision so did Tim.

    His first emotion was of disappointment. He wasn¡¯t sure why, but he had expected the room of a centuries-old immortal to be more¡­ exciting.

    The room wasn¡¯t just plain, it was almost completely bare. There was a bed draped in lavender sheets and a large dresser sparingly lined with basic utensils like brushes and combs. But aside from that there was nothing else of value in the room. The four spread out, looking for anything of merit. Falling to her knees, Haley peered underneath the bed and after a brief examination pulled out an ornate chest with multiple keyholes. This, however, was actually locked. Meanwhile Tim scanned the walls and his eyes landed on an intricate, wall-length, gold-framed mirror on the opposite corner.

    Out of sheer curiosity he moved in front of it, expecting to see his pale, hazel-eyed reflection staring back at him. He received quite a surprise to see that no reflection came.

    In fact, nothing at all was shown in the mirror. It remained completely blank, as if the material was non-reflective. Tim waved at the mirror experimentally, but still nothing appeared on its surface.

    ¡°No use, it¡¯s not budging,¡± Jonathan¡¯s voice said. Tim turned to see him still struggling fruitlessly with the chest. ¡°Anyone see a key anywhere?¡±

    ¡°No, but check out this weird mirror.¡±

    They gathered around him. Tim saw identical looks of confusion dawn across their faces as they came to the same conclusion he had. Just like Tim, Jon waved his hand vigorously in front of the glass, but the surface remained blank and unrelenting.

    ¡°Kind of defeats the purpose of a mirror, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    Haley stepped forward, squinting at it. ¡°Have you noticed the fingerprints on here?¡±

    Tim had to readjust his glasses and squint at the mirror before he noticed what she meant. There was a set of fingerprints smudged across the center.

    ¡°Kind of bizarre.¡± Haley reached out a hand and laid her fingers on the glass. ¡°It¡¯s warm,¡± she said, sounding even more confused now. ¡°What kind of mirror is ¡ª¡± She recoiled with a gasp. A flicker of light had run through the mirror, and now bright purple gas was swirling across the surface¡­ Or under the surface, more like. It was coiling and undulating like a band of thick purple snakes.

    ¡°Great, you broke it,¡± Jon said. Haley stared daggers at him, but returned her attention immediately to the mirror.

    The smoke was now taking shape, forming a large circle.

    Tim stared at it with deepening apprehension. ¡°Okay, you¡¯ve looked enough. I think we should go.¡±

    ¡°You know, I actually think he¡¯s right this time,¡± Jon chimed in.

    Haley raised her eyebrows at them, a smirk on her lips. ¡°So you¡¯re both chickens. Good to know. And here I thought you wanted the rest of the story.¡± She sighed heavily. ¡°Oh well, if you don¡¯t want to go on move to the back of the class, will you?¡±

    They stepped back at once and she moved forward. Haley touched the mirror once more, but this time her hand went straight through the surface, as if it was nothing but a vat of water. She remained like that for a mere second, then as if something had yanked her arm from the other side she suddenly fell through the mirror and disappeared completely. Jon, Oscar and Tim all let out yells of panic but quickly stifled the noise so as not to attract further attention.

    ¡°Where¡¯d she go?¡± Tim demanded.

    ¡°How should we know ¡ª¡±

    But making them all yell again, Haley¡¯s head suddenly poked its head through the mirror.

    ¡°You guys need to see this. Come on, you¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    And she sank through the mirror once more. Despite every cell in his body screaming in protest, Tim followed suit. He laid his fingers upon the surface of the mirror; like Haley had said it was warm, but at the same time there was an underlying feeling of cold, like a block of ice. He closed his eyes and moved forward until the cold enveloped the entirety of his body. Tim felt a rather curious sensation, as if he had plunged into an ice bath ¡ª then the feeling vanished.

    Tim opened his eyes and realized that Sytris¡¯s room had disappeared. Instead of the bare, cream-coloured walls was a large and lonely-looking room composed of dark grey stone. The gigantic mirror was behind him, but the frame had changed from gold to silver now.

    In front of him the walls seemed to stretch on endlessly, as if there was no end to this room. All across the floor he could see blocks of what looked like strange metals, half-finished weapons, and a gigantic fireplace littered with burnt-out coals.

    ¡°It looks like a blacksmith¡¯s forge,¡± said Jon, who had appeared beside him.

    ¡°Not really big on light bulbs though, were they?¡± Oscar asked, squinting around.

    Even in the dimness Tim could make out the excitement on Jon¡¯s face.

    ¡°Ooh, hold on.¡± He held up his arms, his face screwed up in an expression of great concentration. There was a minute pause, then light slowly began to seep from his palms, like a very weak flashlight. The light became steadily stronger, throwing the room into sharp relief. Now they could actually make out carvings along the walls.

    ¡°Congratulations, you¡¯re a human glowstick.¡± Oscar cuffed him gently on the shoulder, grinning. Jon gave him a nasty look but didn¡¯t respond, and instead held his arms further apart, pointing at both walls for a better look.

    Tim approached the nearest carving. It depicted a heavily bearded man being presented with a spear. Beside it another carving illustrated what looked like the crafting of a large chalice.

    ¡°So he¡¯s a godly metalworker? That¡¯s his deep dark secret?¡± Jon said in a tone of deep disappointment.

    Oscar, who was examining the remnants of what looked like an axe, said, ¡°I think it¡¯s cool. Everyone has a hobby.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Well you should,¡± Oscar said conversationally. ¡°Help you work through all that pent-up rage.¡±

    ¡°¡¯Pent-up¡¯¡­ I don¡¯t have anger issues.¡±

    Tim was about to laugh, but then realized that Jon was being serious. He caught Haley¡¯s eye and quickly turned away, coughing.

    ¡°I¡¯m serious!¡± he said heatedly.

    ¡°You¡¯re right, must have confused you with the other Jonathan Whitmore I know.¡±

    While Jon and Oscar continued their conversation, Tim looked around. The forge looked as if it hadn¡¯t been used in years. There was a layer of dust on every surface, and he could hear something scuttling around in the unseen parts of the room. Rats, probably.

    ¡°Guys, take a look at this,¡± Haley called. Tim made his way to her side, weaving around all the clutter. She was looking up at a carving more detailed than the others they had seen so far. It was so intricately designed that it looked more like a drawing. It featured a man and woman surrounded by five children, with another man standing a few inches to the side, all of whom looked vaguely familiar.

    ¡°Is this¡­ supposed to be us?¡± Tim asked.

    But even as the words left his mouth the realization settled in. There were three boys and two girls, one of which was wearing a wreath of flowers in her hair. One of the boys seemed to be running towards the edge of the carving, with trails of wind behind him, and another was flying just above the father¡¯s head, who was trying to catch him. The other two remained at their parents¡¯s side, taller than any of the others.

    ¡°I suppose it is,¡± said Oscar. ¡°Pretty obvious who¡¯s who. But ¡ª is this one flying?¡±

    The child running away with a blaze of wind extending behind him was clearly Tim himself. The tallest of the three was obviously Oscar, which meant the one trying to float away was Jon. He looked delighted, though the carving of the father¡¯s face looked rather weary as he tried to catch the runaway, as if this was a common occurrence.

    ¡°I had no idea you could fly,¡± Tim said to Jon, who looked dumbstruck.

    ¡°Neither did it. Can¡¯t believe he took the memory of how to do it from me. Flight is one of the best superpowers to have!¡±

    Tim stifled a laugh. ¡°Well you know, until you relearn how to do it I can always superspeed you wherever you need to go.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t patronize me, Bryant,¡± said Jon, jabbing a finger threateningly at him.

    ¡°Kinda sad Lauren isn¡¯t here to see this,¡± Haley said, rubbing her finger against the carving of the girl wearing a floral wreath.

    ¡°We can bring her next time,¡± Tim said.

    ¡°You mean you¡¯re planning to sneak into the caretaker¡¯s room again?¡± Jon said slyly. ¡°Seems our bad influence is finally paying off.¡±

    ¡°Indeed it does.¡± Oscar sniffled and wiped a fake tear from his face. ¡°I¡¯ve never been more proud.¡±

    ¡°Oh shut up, both of you.¡±

    Oscar returned his attention to the portrait and smiled. ¡°That is one happy-looking family though.¡±

    Tim smiled too. So did Jon. Haley elbowed Oscar in the ribs and said, ¡°Don¡¯t get all sentimental on me now,¡± but she was smiling too. She took a great shuddering breath and said, ¡°Okay, I think I¡¯m going to head back over.¡±

    ¡°Hot date?¡± asked Jon, winking.

    ¡°No, I think¡­ I think I¡¯m ready to see my parents. Anyone care to join?¡±

    ¡°Anything you need,¡± said Tim.

    ¡°My pleasure,¡± Oscar added.

    Jonathan hesitated for just a moment, but then he said, ¡°Sure. Sytris isn¡¯t going to like it though.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a shame, too bad I don¡¯t care.¡± Haley turned and began to lead the way back towards the mirror, Oscar and Jon in tow. Tim began to follow, but stopped, looking up at the carving once more. He took in their smiling faces, particularly those of his parents. He felt himself smiling too, then he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture, as clear as he could make it. Then he turned and followed them through the mirror.

 Chapter 15: Hospital of Horrors

    Jon hated hospitals. The sterile air, the overwhelming aroma of antiseptics and floor cleaners, and worst of all the nonstop barrage of moans, grunts, and hisses that emanated from almost every room. Even as young as he had been when his mother had been admitted, everything about his visit stood out vividly in his mind. He made a silent vow to himself that day to never return to another hospital under any circumstance.

    Looking back on it now, it had been nothing more than the ramblings of a grieving child. It seemed an almost impossible task, given that accidents could occur at any time, but he had gone thus far while keeping to his promise. And now he had to break it.

    When Haley asked for volunteers to accompany her on her visit to the hospital, a small part of him had flared up in protest. He hadn¡¯t voiced those opinions aloud at the time but they were there, loud and undeterred. But still he had agreed. He knew how badly guilt was tearing Haley apart for what she had done, even though everyone in the household assured her they knew it was an accident. That didn¡¯t make it any easier for her though, and from firsthand experience he knew that whatever support she could get meant more than words could express.

    He still wasn¡¯t a fan of the idea though.

    Jon waited alongside Tim and Oscar in the living room while his father tried to explain the situation to Sytris.

    Though the others had voiced their dissent, Mr. Whitmore had insisted that Sytris should be informed of their current plans beforehand, in case things went south. As predicted, he vehemently disagreed. Jon¡¯s father wasn¡¯t a particularly stern or aggressive person, which made it very easy for a lot of people to walk over him. He was pleasantly surprised, therefore, to see Mr. Whitmore actually putting up a fight.

    ¡°I understand where you¡¯re coming from ¡ª yes of course I do! The safety of the kids is¡­ That¡¯s besides the point¡­ Haley wants to see them now and you¡¯re too far away. We don¡¯t have time to wait¡­ I¡¯m sorry, Sytris, but the purpose of this call wasn¡¯t to ask for your permission, it was to inform of you of our plans. Whether you agree with them or not is not my concern.¡± And he hung up. He was breathing hard, muttering to himself, then he seemed to remember that other people were in the room.

    ¡°Right. So, that¡¯s taken care of. Now we just need ¡ª ah, here she is!¡±

    Haley had just descended the stairs, followed by Lauren. The latter had changed out of her bedclothes into jeans and a peach-coloured cardigan, and her hair fell in curly sheets just beyond her shoulders.

    ¡°Lauren, are you coming too?¡± said Mr. Whitmore.

    ¡°Yes, if that¡¯s okay.¡±

    ¡°Absolutely.¡± Mr. Whitmore smiled broadly, bringing his hands together. ¡°The more the merrier.¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t sound like Sytris agrees,¡± Jon pointed out.

    His father¡¯s smile flickered ever so slightly but he hoisted it back into place almost instantly. ¡°He thinks that it¡¯s a bad idea for so many of you to go at once, since, according to him, it could result in a stronger magical signature which is sure to draw more monsters in. But since you¡¯ll all be together under careful supervision, in a crowded place, and on the alert for just that very thing, I don¡¯t see an issue.¡±

    ¡°Thank you so much for agreeing to drive us, Mr. Whitmore,¡± Haley said. ¡°It means a lot.¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t any trouble. Believe me, if anyone understands how important this is¡­¡±

    His words trailed off, leaving another bleak silence in their wake.

    ¡°Well, shall we go then?¡± Jonathan asked, standing up.

    ¡°Yes, yes, let¡¯s go.¡±

    While the others began to file out towards the vehicle, Mr. Whitmore remained behind just a bit longer to reassure their parents once again that he would ensure their swift departure at the first sign of trouble, then he joined them at the car.

    ¡°Gonna be a tight squeeze, I guess,¡± Oscar said with a sigh.

    <hr>

    The ride to the hospital wasn¡¯t that long, but what it lacked in length it made up for in sheer discomfort. ¡°Tight squeeze¡± was an understatement. Jon spent most of the ride with his face plastered against the window, unable to move while a sharp pain radiated through his neck. It was also swelteringly hot in the car, even with the ac turned on to full blast. At last, after little over half an hour, the car trundled to a halt in a crowded parking lot and they emerged into the blinding sunshine.

    White Willow Medical Center was a rather derelict-looking building with pale red walls. There were people all around them, some limping on crutches, being strolled around in wheelchairs, or sporting casts. Seeing these people here with their injuries on full display to the world made him feel a stab of mundanity.

    Without even realizing what he was doing, Jon rubbed his stomach, the same spot where less than a week ago a gigantic feline creature had sunk its claws into. The area was completely smooth now, as if it had never happened. Had it not been for the next few days he had spent in the mansion, attending brief training sessions with Sytris in which he turned himself into an inferno of multicoloured light, he might have been able to convince himself that this was just a terrible, disturbingly vivid nightmare. Unfortunately, he knew that was far from the case.

    According to Sytris there were very few things capable of killing an Algyrian, but being gruesomely ripped apart wasn¡¯t something he looked forward to, even if his body would put itself back together afterwards.

    ¡°You all right man?¡± Tim asked, eyeing him curiously.

    ¡°Yeah. Yeah, fine. Just not a big fan of hospitals,¡± he muttered.

    Through the corner of his eyes he could see his father gazing at him. No doubt he knew exactly how his son felt, but Jon had no desire to discuss what was really bothering him.

    ¡°So what rooms are they in?¡±

    ¡°Rooms 246 and 251, in the Surgical Unit,¡± Mr. Whitmore said, leading the way to the front door.

    Jon caught sight of Haley as they walked; she looked hesitant, which was understandable. Part of him felt like he should have tried to comfort her in some way, given that he could relate to her situation ¡ª somewhat. But he couldn¡¯t think of anything to say. There wasn¡¯t much chatter as they strode into the reception area, joined the very short line, and checked in. After that he led them up two flights of stairs, during which time Jon caught glimpses of other patients.

    Some, he noticed, had visitors. They were laughing, crying or relaying news of events beyond the walls of White Willow. Others were alone. He knew that there was a whole menagerie of reasons why that could have been the case, but he still felt a sudden wave of sympathy for the people confined to their beds with no company.

    At last they came up to a room with the numbers 246 positioned above the doorway. Haley¡¯s father was inside, being attended to by a nurse. Mrs. Gibson on the other hand, had ended up in room 251, which was further down the hall.

    The nurse looked up to see them watching from the other side of the door. After scribbling something down on a clipboard she strode out to speak with Mr. Whitmore.

    ¡°Visiting?¡± she asked kindly.

    ¡°Yes. Both 246 and 251, if that¡¯s okay.¡±

    ¡°Not a problem at all. Are you family?¡±

    ¡°Oh, uh ¡ª family friends,¡± Mr. Whitmore said quickly.

    The nurse nodded. ¡°Well, you can see them, but unfortunately only 251 has shown any positive updates. 246 has already been in surgery but he hasn¡¯t woken up yet.¡±

    ¡°Is there any indication when he might?¡±

    The nurse sighed. ¡°Unfortunately not. We¡¯ll keep running more tests but for right now, we¡¯re not certain.¡±

    ¡°But Penelope¡¯s okay?¡±

    ¡°Yes, she¡¯s right in that room there.¡± She pointed a few doors down, at room 251. ¡°You can speak with her, but not too long okay? She needs to rest, and she¡¯s a little¡­ distraught.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean, distraught?¡± Jon asked.

    ¡°Well, according to her and several eyewitnesses, there was a girl in that crash too. Their daughter. The paramedics confirmed they did retrieve a third passenger from the vehicle, but she disappeared before any details could be captured. Would you happen to know anything about that?¡±

    ¡°N-no,¡± Haley said, after a very awkward pause. Her voice was rather shaky. ¡°Nothing.¡±

    The nurse looked unconvinced but thankfully didn¡¯t pursue the matter. ¡°Well, enjoy your time.¡± She smiled and walked away. Haley, however, didn¡¯t move. She stood frozen, looking at her father¡¯s supine figure through the door of 246 as the heart monitor beeped steadily beside him.

    ¡°If you need a bit more time, it¡¯s fine,¡± Mr. Whitmore said gently. Haley didn¡¯t move, but her gaze did shift from the door of 246 to 251.

    For a moment Jon thought she was about to agree to turn back, but then Lauren placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled. Haley tried to return the gesture, then, looking a bit more reassured, she walked into 251. Silence, then they could hear Mrs. Gibson¡¯s shrieks of relief as her daughter appeared before her. Everybody else moved towards the benches lining the wall. Jon, however, found himself staring again at Mr. Gibson, whose body was strung up with tubes. A dull ache was creeping up his chest and he found himself struggling to breathe, as if his lungs were constricted.

    ¡°Jonny?¡± came Mr. Whitmore¡¯s voice, as if from a great distance. ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    ¡°Yeah!¡± he said, in a falsely hearty voice most unlike his own. ¡°Fine. I¡¯m just gonna go grab something to drink.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure, you look a little ¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine!¡± he said more insistently. ¡°Really. I just need a minute.¡± And he walked away, ignoring the curious stares of his siblings and father. He took a shaky breath as he rounded the corner, then the avalanche of thoughts he had been trying to repel the entire trip came storming into his brain.

    He shouldn¡¯t have come, he knew it. Images of that dreadful day came floating back into his mind, his ears full of the incessant beeping of the heart monitor as¡­ as¡­ He couldn''t bear to revisit that scene, no matter how much time had passed since then.

    Jon came to an unsteady halt, slumping onto the wall beside him. He drew in a deep, tremulous breath, forcing himself to regain control. Though it had been an excuse to break away from the rest of the group, he found that he really could use something to drink. In his experience, a warm drink always helped with the nerves.

    Thankfully there was a vending machine a bit further down. He forced his legs to move, rummaging around in his pocket for spare change. His hands were shaking wildly but he managed to deposit the coins into the slot and punched the button for coffee. There was a sad little whirring noise and then the machine fell still. Just great.

    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    ¡°Come on,¡± he pleaded, pressing the button more insistently. ¡°Come on, come on.¡± He jammed his index finger against it over and over, but still no response. ¡°Come on, come on, come on¡­¡±

    It was no use. The machine wasn¡¯t responding, but the memories were flooding in, like a great tsunami exploding over an unsuspecting shore. His eyes prickled and he knew what was coming next, but he was determined not to cry in a hallway full of strangers. He wouldn¡¯t do it, he wouldn¡¯t¡­

    He slammed his fist against the machine. There was a yelp of surprise somewhere close at hand, but he ignored it. His throat had tightened along with his lungs; he couldn¡¯t breathe.

    Jon was taking sharp gulps of air, but it was no use, the air simply refused to flow any further. Something hot was rolling down his cheek now. He couldn¡¯t stop the tears as they finally burst their banks, having been repressed for several years.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    He heard the voice, but he did not respond for several moments. Jon simply stood there, forehead pressed against the cool metal as he slowly, steadily, tried to calm down. His lungs finally seemed to remember how to function. Air passed in smoothly, and he felt himself regaining control. He wiped his face on his sleeve and turned around, looking up. Then he looked down. The speaker stood no higher than his waist: a young boy with wavy blond hair and eager brown eyes. He couldn¡¯t have been more than 11 or 12, and he was smiling up at Jon with that kind of out of place happiness only children could muster.

    ¡°I¡¯m ¡ª I¡¯m fine.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure? You¡¯re still breathing pretty hard.¡±

    He took another deep breath, feeling more of the tension leaving his body, until he was finally able to stand upright again. ¡°Yeah. Fine. It¡¯s just¡­ hospitals, you know.¡±

    ¡°Yes, not a very pleasant place is it?¡± the boy said thoughtfully.

    ¡°I don¡¯t really think they¡¯re supposed to be.¡±

    ¡°True. But they serve their purpose well, don¡¯t they?¡±

    Jon arched an eyebrow. There was something odd about this boy, but he couldn¡¯t pinpoint exactly what was bothering him. Something about his choice of words, his general demeanour.

    ¡°I guess.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never been to a hospital before, you know,¡± he said in a wondering voice, as if he was fascinated by his experience so far.

    ¡°Count yourself lucky then. Are you visiting?¡±

    ¡°In a sense. Not a patient, but I do have a friend who works here. I was in the area and decided to stop by. You?¡±

    ¡°No. Accompanying a visitor, more like.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t seem to like it here very much.¡±

    ¡°Is it that obvious?¡± Jonathan chuckled. ¡°I haven¡¯t had the best experiences in these kinds of places.¡± Jon hesitated for a moment, then said, ¡°Where are your parents? Shouldn¡¯t you be with them?¡±

    ¡°No, my parents passed away a long time ago,¡± the boy said sadly.

    Jon felt another unbidden pang of sadness. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he said, and he genuinely meant it.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be. It was a long time ago. I¡¯ve adapted.¡±

    Jon¡¯s brows drew together. There it was again.

    ¡°I do have siblings though,¡± the boy continued casually. ¡°Younger than me, but you would never know based on how they act. Younger ones always seem to think they know better.¡± He looked like he was restraining himself from rolling his eyes to the heavens with great effort, and for the first time Jon thought he picked up a trace of genuine irritation.

    Jon tried to keep the conversation flowing, to find out more about his mysterious interlocutor. ¡°Where are your siblings now?¡± He didn¡¯t need to try to sound interested, because he genuinely was.

    ¡°Oh my sister is here somewhere. My brother, on the other hand, declined to make an appearance. (Another flicker of annoyance). But you can always count on him to make an entrance when things get interesting.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean by ¡®interesting¡¯?¡±

    At that the boy smiled again, but this smile was more disconcerting than any other expression he had made so far, as if something much deeper was being hidden behind the smile.

    ¡°Just a figure of speech. I really did enjoy our conversation today, Jonathan. Thank you for indulging me. Your coffee?¡± He pointed at the vending machine behind them.

    Jon tore his eyes from the stranger with the greatest reluctance and turned around, and there was his coffee, steaming on the small platform. He looked around again, but the boy had vanished. Thoroughly perturbed, Jonathan turned his back on the warm drink and began to make his way back down the hallway, his eyes flickering over the corridor for any sign of the boy. But he did not reappear.

    He had been so disconcerted by the experience that it took him several minutes before he realized that he had never told the boy his name.

    Unfortunately, while trying to find his way back to the others he came to another unsettling realization: due to his minor panic attack he hadn¡¯t been paying much attention to the path he had taken to get here and was now well and truly lost.

    He was about to ask someone for directions, but then heard something that sounded distinctly out of place in a hospital. It was a kind of faint hiss, like a snake. He stopped in place, listening hard. Perhaps he had imagined it¡­ But there it was again, louder this time. A strange tingling sensation ran through his left arm. He looked down and his eyes fell upon his ring, which seemed to be pulsing once more with its usual cool blue light. From his experience it only ever did that when his siblings were near. Perhaps it was guiding him back to them?

    Though something felt different this time. The further he walked in this direction the more intense the ring¡¯s light became.

    Down the path he walked, taking a right, then a left, then another right. He didn¡¯t know why he was going this way, only that something seemed to be drawing him in this direction. The further he walked the less people there were on this section of the building, until he seemed to reach an entirely deserted floor. This definitely wasn¡¯t the path to his family, but he couldn¡¯t deny that he was curious to see what he would find at the end of his path.

    Then, without any form of warning, he turned a corner and came upon a truly awful scene. In the room just beyond, he saw a man in a lab coat bending over a patient. From this angle it seemed that the man was merely doing an observation, but then he shifted slightly and Jon saw that his mouth was wide open, and a kind of silvery mist was trailing from the woman¡¯s mouth into his. Her body was convulsing, but she seemed completely unable to move, because she simply lay there, shaking violently. The mist disappeared and the man swallowed with apparent relish, then the heart monitor, which had maintained a steady rhythm so far, started beeping far more aggressively: she was flatlining.

    The man made no attempt to resuscitate. Instead he stared at the monitor with the merest trace of interest until the noise turned to a flat, droning beep. He looked at his watch and said nonchalantly, ¡°Time of death, 3:02 PM.¡±

    He froze. He had just turned around and locked eyes with Jonathan, who was watching, transfixed with horror. The doctor looked just as shocked to see him, but his shock wore off much more quickly; he threw down his clipboard and made a beeline straight for the door.

    Jon¡¯s senses rushed back into him so sharply it was as if he had received an electric shock. He turned and pelted off down the hallway, his heart pounding a violent tattoo against his chest. The door burst open behind him and out came the doctor, hurtling towards him like a loose rocket. Just as Jon was about to turn the corner, the man launched himself forward and grabbed hold of his legs. He lost balance and tumbled over, crashing down the empty hallway. With strength no ordinary man should have possessed, the doctor restricted him, flipping him over so that they were face to face.

    His mouth was a gaping maw of uneven, metallic-looking fangs and his eyes were a searing amber colour. There were no whites to them: his sclera was pitch black, as if the brilliant irises were floating in a pool of darkness.

    ¡°What are you doing down here?¡± the man hissed.

    ¡°Get off me!¡±

    The man clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle his yells, then with his other hand he struck a heavy blow in Jon¡¯s ribs. His cry of pain was muffled by the man¡¯s hand; the doctor was pummeling him all over, but Jon managed to wiggle free just enough to drive his fist in the other man¡¯s stomach. The doctor keeled over in pain. Jon tried to rise but the man, whatever he was, leapt from the floor again. He grabbed hold of him and threw him bodily into the room just beside them, then began to fumble with the lock.

    Temporarily freed, Jon turned to the man with anger rising swiftly inside him. Power surged into his fingertips just as the doctor came at him again and he let loose a fierce blast. The light filled the entire room, blasting the doctor into the opposite wall and scattering tables and equipment all over the floor.

    To Jon¡¯s surprise, the doctor didn¡¯t stop moving. He managed to push himself upright and looked up. It was a truly gruesome sight. Half of his face was melted off, the remnants of skin hanging on loosely and leaking dribbles of dark green blood onto the floor.

    His left eye was still in tact, widened in absolute terror. ¡°Wh- what are you?¡± he rasped.

    Jon was fighting a powerful urge to vomit. He managed to fight it down, but he was forced to turn away from the appalling sight.

    The monster took advantage of his weakness, leaping from the ground so fast that it barreled into him before he could even turn his head. It thrust him into the floor so hard that it actually cracked the vinyl. Jon tasted blood in his mouth; a sharp ache spreading through the right side of his body told him something was broken but his adversary gave him no time to do a proper assessment. He was on him again in an instant, flipping him over once more so that he was forced to look up into the mangled face.

    What was left of its mouth was opening wide, its remaining eye glowing amber. Jon felt his own mouth opening against his will, and to his horror saw a sliver of mist emerging from his mouth, just as it had with the woman earlier. Except where hers was silver, this was a bright, searing gold.

    He could barely move. It was as if he had been hit by some kind of toxin, slowly paralyzing every muscle in his body, all the while he could feel his strength quite literally being sucked out of him.

    Once again Sytris¡¯s words floated into his mind: very few things could kill an Algyrian, but he had a nasty feeling that if he didn¡¯t get away from this man soon, this would be revealed to be one of those things.

    ¡°Or¡­¡± His voice trailed off, raspy and weak. The man looked surprised to see him even able to talk. He opened his mouth wider and the trail of mist thickened. ¡°Or¡­ Orus!¡± The word was hardly intelligible even to his own ears, but it seemed it was good enough for the ring. Blue light blazed through the room, temporarily blinding his opponent, who recoiled with another hiss. Jon coughed and sputtered, feeling slightly dizzy, but he managed to push himself to his feet, holding his gleaming blade aloft.

    That was when he noticed something extraordinary. The damage his powers had done to the creature seemed to have been mostly repaired. Now only a small bloody gash was left on his face. He was cowering against the other wall, holding a hand out in terror, tears blossoming in his newly regenerated eyes.

    ¡°Please, please don¡¯t kill me,¡± the man pleaded. ¡°I have a family. A wife¡­ a daughter¡­¡±

    The expression on his face was so feeble, so human, that Jon found himself paralyzed again. This wasn¡¯t a vicious cat creature, or an oversized serpent. This was a human being ¡ª or at the very least, it looked like one. He couldn¡¯t ¡ª how could he¡­.

    But once again the doctor took advantage of his weakness. In his brief moment of hesitation, it pounced, his feeble expression morphing instantly into the face of murderous rage he had worn the entire fight. Jon closed his eyes and surrendered to his instincts. He tightened his grip on the sword and thrust forward with all the strength he could muster. A horrible squelching noise met his ears. He could feel the creature¡¯s hot breath on his face, hear it gurgling and sputtering, but he didn¡¯t dare open his eyes.

    ¡°Jonny!¡±

    His eyes flew open at once. The doctor was directly in front of him, his sword buried deep in his chest. His fangs were hidden by the green goo oozing from his mouth, and the amber was slowly fading from his irises. In an instant the brilliant glare had disappeared, leaving them dull and lifeless. The man¡¯s body slid downwards, crashing to the floor in a bloody heap.

    Behind him stood Mr. Whitmore and all four of his siblings, looking aghast.

    His father rushed over, hesitated for a moment at the sight, then grabbed Jon. ¡°What happened?¡± he demanded.

    ¡°He wasn¡¯t human.¡± Jon forced the words out, his heart still pounding furiously against his ribcage. ¡°Some kind of monster, he¡­ he killed somebody.¡±

    ¡°All right, we gotta get you out of here. Now. You need to get cleaned up. Tim, check if the coast is clear.¡±

    Tim nodded and sped off, leaving nothing but the quickly-fading flash of blue light behind him.

    ¡°What were you even doing around here?¡± Mr. Whitmore said, looking both bewildered and terrified.

    Jon didn¡¯t get the chance to respond. In an instant Tim was back, his face pale and eyes wide. ¡°Security is coming.¡±

    ¡°We have to go. Jonny. Hey ¡ª look at me!¡± Mr. Whitmore said, shaking his son roughly. ¡°Look at me, okay. Not him. We need to go.¡±

    ¡°I killed him,¡± Jon breathed.

    ¡°You had no choice. It was him or you. Here, put this on.¡± His father pulled off his jacket and thrust it roughly into his arms. ¡°Jonathan!¡± he shouted, jerking him back to his senses. ¡°We have to go!¡±

    Jon nodded and pulled the jacket on with shaking arms. It was larger than him, which served the purpose of covering the blood-stained sections of his shirt. His father heaved his sword from the body with another nasty squelching noise and handed it to him. Jon whispered ¡°Orus,¡± once more and it morphed back into his ring, its sapphire glinting innocently as he slid it back onto his finger. They broke into a run, hurrying back down the corridor. Jon, who had no idea where to go, simply followed the others.

    ¡°How did you find me?¡±

    ¡°These,¡± said Haley, indicating her bangle. ¡°They all started glowing again. Had a feeling you needed help.¡±

    ¡°What about the doctor?¡±

    ¡°One problem at a time, Jonny,¡± said his father distractedly. He took a tentative step forward, saw the hospital¡¯s security team coming up the path they were about to take, then headed down the other direction. It took nearly ten minutes to get outside, during which they drew many curious glances. They hurried back into the vehicle and Mr. Whitmore sent the car hurtling down the road, almost hitting several other cars in his rush to get out of the parking lot.

    As they wheeled down the road, Jon took one final glance at the hospital. He didn¡¯t know if he was imagining it or what ¡ª maybe he was ¡ª but it seemed there was a kind of dark haze surrounding the entire building. He blinked, and it was gone.

 Chapter 16: Perspective

    The car ride back seemed to take no time at all. It could have been attributed to the distinct lack of traffic on the road, or possibly due to the fact that Mr. Whitmore was driving like a maniac. At no point during their entire journey did the speedometer once dip below 85. Perhaps the powers-that-be that had apparently brought the five of them back together were also somehow responsible for Mr. Whitmore being able to avoid the attention of the local police. Whatever it was, Haley was glad; she had no desire to be pulled over after what had just happened. She simply wanted to get back home as quickly as possible.

    There wasn¡¯t much talk on the drive back, but it certainly wasn¡¯t because Jon didn¡¯t want to talk or because they weren¡¯t interested in hearing. Every time they broached the topic Mr. Whitmore shut them down.

    Haley was annoyed. She had been so relieved to see her mother, and even more so when she learned that her mother didn¡¯t blame her at all for what had happened. In fact, possibly the most surprising thing she had heard all week was her mother accepting full responsibility for the accident, and apologizing for trying to run off during such an important time. They had maintained such a good flow of conversation, then out of nowhere her stupid bangle had started pulsating. This time though, there was a strange heat radiating from it.

    It wasn¡¯t like the heat she felt every time the bangle morphed into her twin fans. There was a kind of urgency to it. She had no idea how she had known, but she had been sure that Jon was in danger.

    Haley was glad he was all right of course, but the fact that it had to happen during her visit had been such awful timing. It really was ludicrous how they couldn¡¯t go more than a few steps outside of the mansion without monsters trying to kill them. Haley blinked. As soon as she had thought the word ¡°monsters,¡± an image of the doctor came sliding into her mind. She had glimpsed the fangs on the man¡¯s corpse and yet she still couldn¡¯t believe her eyes.

    All the time they had spent in the mansion, being warned of the dangers that lurked beyond its doors, whenever she thought of monsters the only results her mind returned were images of huge, nightmarish beasts. The revelation that these monsters could actually resemble normal people felt like a rug being yanked out from under her feet.

    What was to say that the person zipping past on the opposite side of the road right now wasn¡¯t a monster? Or any of their old teachers, classmates, even neighbours?

    She felt as if ice was dripping down her back, even though the interior of the car felt like a furnace. Part of her wished she had never learned of this new development, because now she was examining every memory she could remember, trying to find anyone that stuck out as odd. Quite soon she felt like she was spiraling down a rabbit hole that looked deeper than the Grand Canyon.

    At last the car slowed to a halt. There was a collective groan of relief, then everyone began scrabbling to get out. Once they were inside Mr. Whitmore bolted the door behind them. It was completely unnecessary, given that Sytris often reassured them that the mansion, and a large stretch of the land around it, was protected by powerful magical wards. They never had to worry about monsters getting in, or even so much as a simple burglar. But that never stopped them from double-checking that every entrance was properly locked when night fell. Perhaps it was just habit, or maybe raging paranoia.

    ¡°Everything go well?¡± Tim¡¯s father asked, stepping into the room holding a glass of white wine. ¡°What¡¯s wrong? You look like you¡¯ve seen a ¡ª¡±

    He froze as his eyes raked over Jon¡¯ shirt, which was revealed to be covered in splotches of green blood as he discarded Mr. Whitmore¡¯s jacket.

    ¡°What in the world happened when you were gone?¡± he demanded.

    Tim stepped forward, holding up his arms placatingly. ¡°It¡¯s fine, Dad. We took care of it.¡±

    But Mr. Bryant clearly thought the situation was as far from ¡°fine¡± as it could be. ¡°Was there another monster attack? Did it happen while you were driving?¡±

    ¡°In the hospital, actually,¡± said Mr. Whitmore. He didn¡¯t seem keen on retelling the story, but clearly didn¡¯t want to argue with Mr. Bryant given the look on his face.

    ¡°What kind of attack?¡± Mr. Bryant laid down his glass, grabbed hold of Tim and started a thorough inspection, as if to find if he had been injured too.

    ¡°Dad!¡± Tim said, looking embarrassed.

    ¡°Are you saying something followed you into the hospital?¡± Mr. Bryant asked, completely ignoring his son¡¯s protests.

    ¡°No, it was already inside,¡± Lauren said, curling up on the sofa. ¡°Apparently the good doctor decided to snack on a patient during his lunch break. We¡¯re not really sure what it was, because¡­ well, it had a human form.¡±

    Mr. Bryant froze in his frantic examination of Tim, looking appalled.

    ¡°If it wasn¡¯t for the glowing eyes and the double row of fangs, I might actually have thought it was human,¡± Jon said, looking at the huge splatters of congealed ooze on his shirt.

    ¡°I had no idea it was possible,¡± Tim added, dumbstruck. ¡°All this time I was only considering they would be¡­ well, actual monsters. You know, like that cat thing that attacked us. I never thought they could actually pass as human.¡±

    ¡°Whatever they look like, they¡¯re certainly not human,¡± Mr. Bryant said firmly. Then he hesitated. ¡°But¡­ well, Sytris did warn us it might be a possibility.¡±

    ¡°What? So you all knew?¡± Haley demanded. ¡°Why did you never tell us?¡±

    ¡°We didn¡¯t know for sure. Even Sytris himself isn¡¯t completely aware of all the different categories of magical threats that exist on Earth. He warned us about a good deal of them, but there¡¯s only so much he knew. And since we never stumbled across these particular creatures, we never thought much of it. If this monster was posing as a healthcare worker, then it seems that unlike the other creatures we¡¯ve met, this one wasn¡¯t very interested in killing for the sake of it. It was smart, using its position to ensure a steady food supply. That¡¯s my guess anyway. This is unchartered territory for all of us.¡±

    A dark silence fell. By now the other inhabitants of the house had arrived, eager to hear of the new developments.

    ¡°Can you imagine if there are more of those things lurking around the hospital?¡± Haley said. ¡°My parents, they could be in danger.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Haley,¡± Mr. Whitmore said. ¡°I can take a trip back to White Willow to check on them, make sure they¡¯re okay.¡±

    ¡°Oh no,¡± said Mr. Combs. ¡°Too risky. I think the rest of us should go back instead, at least until things blow over.¡±

    Haley couldn¡¯t believe what she was hearing. ¡°Are you saying I can¡¯t visit my parents anymore?¡±

    ¡°No, not indefinitely. Just for a little while. To avoid any potential questions we may not be able to answer.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Haley,¡± Tim¡¯s mother said. ¡°But I think it¡¯s for the best.¡±

    Haley sank onto the couch beside Lauren, arms crossed and jaw clenched.

    ¡°I guess Sytris was right after all,¡± Jon said grimly. He was staring at the opposite wall, but there was a blank, faraway look on his face, as if he wasn¡¯t really seeing the room at all. ¡°We shouldn¡¯t have gone. Imagine what the hospital security is going to say when they find that body. And what if they have security footage?¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re exposed, that makes things harder but unfortunately there¡¯s nothing we can do about that,¡± said Lauren¡¯s father. ¡°It would be better if you could simply stay under the radar entirely, but I bet even Sytris will understand that your safety is far more important than your identities. I am sorry, Haley,¡± he added, in a much gentler tone. ¡°I know how important it was for you to see your parents. It¡¯s a shame it turned out this way.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, well, when do we ever get what we want?¡± Haley muttered.

    ¡°Anything to drink?¡± Mrs. Bryant asked the room at large, clearly desperate to change the subject. ¡°Water? Tea? Coffee?¡±

    ¡°A Heineken would be nice,¡± suggested Tim.

    She gave him such a fierce glare that he recoiled as if he could feel heat radiating off of her. ¡°I was joking Mom, just joking!¡± he said hastily.

    ¡°I¡¯ll just have a glass of water, thanks,¡± Jon said.

    ¡°Tea please,¡± Lauren said, her face buried in her knees.

    When everyone had finished reeling off their desired drink, Tim¡¯s mother and father vanished into the kitchen to gather the refreshments. Jon¡¯s father, on the other hand, began to climb the stairwell.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to try to identify the creature that attacked you. You said it was absorbing something from you?¡± Jon nodded. ¡°I don¡¯t like the sound of that one bit.¡±

    When he had disappeared up the staircase, Tim turned to look at Jon, eyebrows drawn together. ¡°Do you really think that guy ¡ª monster, sorry ¡ª could have killed you?¡±

    ¡°It sure felt like it could.¡±

    Tim continued to stare at Jon, bemused, then something in his expression shifted. ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re okay?¡±

    Jon sighed and reclined in the sofa. ¡°No. If this keeps up, I''m not sure I¡¯ll ever be okay again. First some overgrown cat tries to slice me to ribbons, then a psychotic doctor literally tries to suck the life out of me. You know, I don¡¯t see monsters lining up to try to kill you guys.¡± He looked at all four of the others in turn, pointing at them in a rather accusatory fashion.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m sure it¡¯s not a competition, but I was mutilated by a giant sea serpent,¡± Oscar said nonchalantly.

    ¡°And being chased by an army of gargoyles was just thrilling,¡± Lauren said sarcastically.

    ¡°Mmm.¡± Jon shrugged. ¡°Point taken.¡±

    ¡°Well, you can call me old-fashioned, but I don¡¯t think you guys should be comparing traumas,¡± said Mrs. Bryant, who had returned with her husband to pass out the drinks along with a plate of cookies.

    Oscar shrugged, then with his mouth full of oatmeal said, ¡°I shuposhe, but shtill you have to ¡ª¡±

    ¡°How about you swallow first?¡± Haley said. ¡°I feel like I¡¯m going to choke just looking at you.¡±

    Oscar seemed to have some difficulty swallowing at first; he had to wash his mouthful down with the glass of milk he had requested, then started pounding his back. Finally he managed to get it down and gulped, eyes watering. ¡°I suppose, but still you have to consider, if it was a competition then getting shot up with venom by a snake the size of a bullet train would be pretty high on the list.¡±

    ¡°And don¡¯t forget those Necroforager things,¡± Tim added. ¡°Which we still don¡¯t know how to beat, mind you.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t we have enough problems without worrying about the Harbingers?¡± groaned Lauren.

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯d say we do.¡± Jon¡¯s father had returned, bearing a large and ancient-looking book. ¡°This was something my wife picked up, shortly after we got Jonathan. She always wanted to be prepared, Courtney. There¡¯s a lot of different supernatural creatures mentioned in here. I did a quick search on the internet and cross-referenced with what I read in this, and I think I found something that matches. It¡¯s called a striga, a creature that survives by feeding on the souls of living beings. They usually appear as old women, but it¡¯s not uncommon for males to appear either.¡±

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°So the doctor was trying to eat my soul?¡± Jon asked, flabbergasted.

    ¡°Seems so to me. That¡¯s what he must have done to the other woman you saw, which is why she died on the spot. A body dies immediately after the soul is extracted.¡±

    ¡°Including us?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a special case,¡± Mr. Whitmore said. ¡°Your bodies are physically unkillable, save for very few exceptions. In the event you lost your soul ¡ª heaven forbid ¡ª your body would still live on, but it would be nothing more than an empty husk. It would still carry out basic life functions, like breathing or blood circulation, but otherwise it would be totally unresponsive.¡±

    There was another bleak pause, while they contemplated the horrors of such a possibility.

    ¡°You know what, I¡¯m comfortable accepting my losses. You win the trauma war,¡± Tim said, giving Jon a congratulatory pat on the shoulder.

    ¡°Hands down,¡± added Oscar, while Haley and Lauren nodded. Mrs. Bryant gave them what Haley had come to know as the universal ¡°mom look¡±, but Mr. Whitmore merely stood up, frowning.

    ¡°When did it start raining?¡±

    Everyone looked around. The large, gold-paned windows behind them were partially obscured by a set of magnificent velvet curtains, but through the uncovered sections they could see specks of rain dotting the glass. Now that they were actually listening they could also hear raindrops drumming gently on the roof.

    ¡°Has it ever rained since we¡¯ve been here?¡± Lauren asked.

    ¡°Not once,¡± said Mr. Whitmore, setting down his book and moving to the windows. Haley stood up for a better look. It was truly amazing how quickly the sky, which had been a clear, forget-me-not blue during their ride home, had become overrun with thick black clouds. Bad weather wasn¡¯t necessarily an indicator of anything supernatural, but the fact that it looked like heavy rain was about to blow in immediately after their run-in with another magical creature was awfully convenient.

    Haley started to speak, but the words had barely left her mouth when she dropped her glass, clapping her hands over her ears. A deafening buzzing, droning noise was filling the room, as if a swarm of elephantine bees was zipping around them. The sound was so loud that it felt like the very ground was vibrating, and it was only getting more intense the longer they stood there.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Mrs. Bryant screamed.

    Through the window they could see the ground shifting up ahead, like some kind of landslide. But ¡ª no, landslide wasn¡¯t the right word. Land didn¡¯t slide uphill after all. The rock was coalescing at a point just outside the gates, taking the shape of a towering, humanoid statue.

    ¡°It¡¯s Erymithia!¡± Tim shouted.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s one of the Necroforagers,¡± yelled Jon. ¡°The same thing happened back in the forest!¡±

    ¡°But how did she find us?¡± Lauren asked.

    Jon gave a hopeless shrug, then the buzzing stopped as abruptly as it had begun. The thing beyond the gates was twice as tall as Mr. Whitmore, who was easily the tallest member in their household. It was even wider around than the very car they had ridden to the hospital, and they could see a faint green glow emanating from its chest area, pulsing weakly, like a faint heartbeat.

    ¡°That¡¯s impossible, there¡¯s no way they should have been able to find us here!¡± Mr. Combs said, looking terrified.

    ¡°She must have followed us back from the hospital, it¡¯s the only thing I can think of,¡± Mr. Whitmore said. ¡°Damn her.¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯s Sytris?¡± Jon asked.

    ¡°He said he was on his way. He should be back any minute, I think. Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s impossible for them to cross the border.¡±

    Haley could tell he had meant it to sound reassuring, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than them.

    The creature outside the gate wasn¡¯t moving. It remained completely still, like some grotesque statue. Then without warning it leapt forward and struck at thin air. Or so it looked at first. Its arm connected with something: a large, neon-blue barrier that rippled on impact, stretched like a dome around the property.

    ¡°This is insanity, we can¡¯t stay here,¡± Mr. Bryant said.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous. This is the safest place we could be, they can¡¯t get in.¡±

    ¡°Are you willing to risk our collective safety on that bet?¡±

    No one had a chance to answer, because another voice wafted in from the outside: feminine but low-pitched, carrying a hint of cruel amusement.

    ¡°Very clever with the forcefield, but no barrier will hold indefinitely. We know you¡¯re in there, you may as well face us.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s her all right,¡± Oscar said grimly.

    ¡°Absolutely not!¡± hissed Mr. Whitmore, who had noticed Jonathan inching forward. ¡°Don¡¯t provoke her!¡±

    ¡°You said it yourself, they can¡¯t get past the border.¡±

    ¡°No!¡±

    ¡°Just a moment of your time will suffice.¡±

    This was a new voice, one completely unfamiliar. But there was something strange about it: this voice sounded like it belonged to someone much younger. Jon looked like he couldn¡¯t believe his eyes. He whispered something that sounded like ¡°Oh my God,¡± then burst through the door. His father tore after him, shouting, ¡°Jonny! Get back inside!¡±

    But Jon didn¡¯t stop, and neither did any of the others as they filed out behind him. He came to a halt in the courtyard, just a few feet away from the front gate. Besides the rock monster, there was no one else there. But then a moment later the air in front of them rippled, and out of thin air walked a boy with shining blond hair, walking towards them with his hands clasped behind his back and a warm smile on his face.

    ¡°Hello again,¡± the boy said pleasantly. ¡°Thank you for coming to meet us.¡±

    ¡°You know this guy?¡± Oscar asked Jon.

    Jon¡¯s hands had balled into fists, his jaw clenched tightly. ¡°I saw him at the hospital,¡± he said through gritted teeth. ¡°I felt like something was off about him the whole time. And now I can see why. You¡¯re one of them, aren¡¯t you? A Harbinger?¡±

    The boy¡¯s smile turned into a grimace. His entire expression contorted instantly. ¡°Please refrain from using that derogatory term when referring to us,¡± he said, his voice devoid of its earlier warmth.

    ¡°Must be a family thing,¡± Jon said, loud enough for only his immediate companions to hear. ¡°Erymithia hates the word too.¡±

    ¡°He and Erymithia are related?¡± Tim asked, aghast.

    ¡°Siblings, I think. And according to him there¡¯s at least one more: another brother.¡±

    ¡°Precisely,¡± the boy said, voice oily once more. ¡°My name is Valarok, and of course you¡¯ve already met my dear sister.¡± He pointed up at the empty sky. A moment later the air began to ripple, and then an ornate chariot appeared there, pulled by dogs that looked exactly as the boys had described them: like a mixture of fire and shadow, with gaping maws and snarls that sent chills running down Haley¡¯s spine. The woman in the chariot had a beautiful yet terrible face, with metallic-looking hair that gleamed brightly despite the dim evening light.

    ¡°And where¡¯s your brother?¡±

    ¡°I believe I explained earlier: he only ever deigns to appear when things get entertaining.¡±

    ¡°Why are you here?¡± Tim asked. ¡°What do you people want from us? I doubt you tracked us all the way here just to try to kill us.¡±

    Valarok looked rather impressed. ¡°And you¡¯d be correct. It¡¯s simple really: we want what you stole from us.¡±

    Looks of confusion were exchanged among the group. Frowning, Jon turned to the duo once more.

    ¡°Are we supposed to know what that means?¡±

    ¡°Sarcasm. The lowest form of mortal humour,¡± Valarok said in a bored voice.

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t sarcasm,¡± Lauren chimed in. ¡°We don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±

    ¡°Of course you do. It was awfully faint, but we traced the magical signature right back here. None of us actually believed you would be willing to give it to us.¡± He sighed dramatically. ¡°But I did have hope we could at least try to work this out diplomatically.¡±

    ¡°Whatever you¡¯re looking for, these kids don¡¯t have it,¡± Mr. Whitmore said. ¡°You¡¯re only wasting everyone¡¯s time here, so how about you do us all a favour and leave.¡±

    Valarok¡¯s eyes traveled very slowly from Lauren to Mr. Whitmore¡¯s face and stayed there. He was still smiling, but his gaze had become distinctly colder. ¡°Intriguing, how you are all so willing to demean yourself by consorting with¡­ lesser beings.¡±

    A ripple of anger went around their circle. Anger flashed in Jon¡¯s face; even Tim looked affronted.

    ¡°We¡¯re stooping to middle school insults now?¡± Lauren scoffed.

    Valarok¡¯s gaze shifted back to her and he inclined his head to the side, staring at her appraisingly. ¡°You¡¯re the oldest of the bunch.¡± It wasn¡¯t a question. ¡°Tell me, do you have as much trouble handling your younger siblings as I do mine?¡±

    ¡°Younger?¡± Haley asked, bemused.

    ¡°Well yes. Surely you didn¡¯t believe that this form is actually indicative of my true age?¡± When they merely continued to stare at him, he raised a single eyebrow. ¡°I see. You¡¯re even younger than I originally believed. Do any of you even have any memories of Algyria?¡±

    Another tense silence ensued, spiraling horribly.

    ¡°No? Too young, I imagine. It was a beautiful place you know. So vibrant and full of life.¡±

    ¡°It probably was, before you and your fellow degenerates destroyed it,¡± Tim said, his voice actually shaking with anger.

    ¡°Is that what you were told?¡± Valarok sounded genuinely interested. ¡°Oh please, do enlighten me further. What else have you heard?¡±

    ¡°You killed our parents.¡± Oscar spoke in a very soft voice, but it carried across the courtyard nonetheless. A cold breeze swept through the yard; the rain began to fall even harder.

    ¡°I can neither confirm nor deny that. I have hardly any recollection of that period really. It was all so¡­ unpleasant.¡±

    To see such an innocent face contorted with such callousness was unsettling. Haley was beginning to feel a rush of anger now too. Raindrops peppered her skin. Erymithia waved a hand over her head, and as if an invisible umbrella had blossomed above her, Haley saw the raindrops sliding smoothly away from her face. It was then that she noticed that none of the rain was making contact with Valarok either. It was as if the droplets were curving around him, not daring to land upon his skin.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you have heard much of what transpired several years ago, but there are in fact two sides to every story. It all boils down to a matter of perspective.¡±

    ¡°That may be, but we¡¯re certainly not interested in hearing yours,¡± said Mr. Combs. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go back inside. It¡¯s not worth it.¡±

    To Haley¡¯s slight surprise, nobody objected. Casting the Harbingers filthy looks, they turned and began to sweep up the driveway.

    ¡°Haven¡¯t you heard it¡¯s dishonourable for a host to abandon their guests?¡± Valarok¡¯s voice called. No one spared him a second glance. ¡°A shame,¡± he pouted. ¡°Where¡¯s that Algyrian hospitality that your forefathers were renowned for?¡±

    The group came to a collective halt. Haley turned to find the boy smiling in the same cold, sinister way.

    ¡°Unfortunately, we are in need of what you took from us. Rest assured we will not be leaving without it.¡±

    The rain was pouring now. A rumble of thunder sounded overhead, followed by an arc of neon green lightning that tore through the darkening sky. It illuminated the sky for just a moment, then a branch of that same emerald lightning burst from the clouds and collided with the top of the barrier. A massive tremor rocked the entire yard; Haley almost toppled over but managed to regain her balance by grabbing onto the railings. They turned in horror to find Erymithia vigorously waving her arms once more.

    Another bolt of lightning came crashing down upon the sapphire barrier with an explosion of multicolored sparks. At the same time the Necroforager she had brought began to pound relentlessly against the wall from outside.

    ¡°Oh my God!¡± Mrs. Combs gasped. ¡°They¡¯re trying to break through the barrier!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Mr. Whitmore shouted over the rain. ¡°They can¡¯t get in!¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re gods!¡± Mr. Combs said. ¡°We can¡¯t rule out the possibility.¡±

    Another jet of lightning ripped through the air. The rain was coming down so hard now that they were soaked within seconds.

    ¡°Call Sytris. Hurry!¡± Mr. Whitmore yelled.

    Mr. Medina turned and awkwardly blundered up the stairs.

    ¡°This can¡¯t be happening.¡± Mrs. Bryant was wringing her hands, looking completely distraught. ¡°Not now, please not now!¡±

    Blast after blast struck the barrier. Every time it was hit, ripples spread across its surface. The barrier would regenerate each time, but Haley noticed that with every hit the ripples were becoming larger and were taking longer to disappear. And all the while the rain around them worsened. Within minutes the weather had progressed to some kind of freak storm. The sky was completely black, the rain so heavy that they could barely see what was happening in front of them. Water was rising to their ankles now, accompanied by gale force winds that threatened to uproot the trees in the front yard.

    ¡°No service!¡± Mr. Medina shouted, reappearing behind them.

    ¡°It must be the storm!¡± Mr. Combs said desperately.

    ¡°Kids, get inside!¡± shouted Mr. Whitmore. ¡°Now! Get ¡ª get¡­¡± His words faltered, and they had no difficulty understanding why. As dark as it was, all of them could clearly make out the thick layer of frost creeping over the surface of the barrier. Within seconds it looked like the inside of a snow globe.

    They had a very brief reprieve from the heavy rains, blocked by the sudden ice cap that had overtaken the barrier. Then there was another flash of light, followed by the dome being struck by the most violent thunderclap they had yet seen, and the barrier exploded. Chunks of ice rocketed all over like shrapnel, shattering windows and setting off Mr. Whitmore¡¯s car alarm.

    Haley vaguely heard someone shouting, ¡°Get down!¡± before somebody sent her flying face-first into the pavement. She hit her head so hard that she could almost feel her brain rattling around in her skull.

    Through the haze of rain she looked up, her vision somewhat blurry. A third figure was standing outside the gates now, towering over Valarok. He was huge, and covered in strips of armour that gleamed even in the near-total darkness. Just as it had done with the barrier, a layer of frost was creeping steadily over the ground at his feet.

    ¡°I told you,¡± Valarok called, sounding pleased, ¡°that he would make his appearance when the fun began.¡±

 Chapter 17: The Second War Begins

    Oscar¡¯s head was pounding. A sharp, throbbing pain was radiating through his temple, as if a little marching band had gathered just below the surface, hosting a miniature rally. The instant that lightning blast had hit the barrier, someone had shoved him hard in the back. Just about everyone else had landed in the grass; he, in accordance with his usual luck, had been thrust face-first into a ceramic flowering pot. He could tell the damage had already begun healing, but that didn¡¯t make it any less unpleasant.

    He looked up through the thick sheets of rain and saw that there were three people standing outside the gate now. The last figure could only have been the third sibling they had mentioned earlier, and he was approaching fast with the Necroforager just behind him.

    Someone yanked him upright. It was his father, blinking rain out of his panic-stricken eyes. Mr. Medina was shouting at him, but even though he could see his father¡¯s mouth moving he realized that he was unable to hear anything but a dull ringing noise. His father gesticulated forcefully in the direction of the mansion, then all at once the noise of the world around him returned, as if someone had abruptly turned on the volume.

    ¡°We have to get inside!¡±

    There was much grunting and gasping as the group began to scrabble back into the house, slipping and sliding. They burst through the front door and Mr. Bryant slammed the door behind them, bolting the multitude of latches fastened to the door.

    ¡°We have to get out of here!¡± Mr. Combs said, panic etched in every line of his face.

    ¡°And go where?¡± his wife asked shrilly.

    ¡°Anywhere but here!¡±

    Mr. Whitmore was in the living room, scrabbling around pulling objects haphazardly from their resting places and tossing them unceremoniously around the room.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Jonathan asked his father incredulously, as if worrying for his sanity.

    ¡°Looking for¡­ aha!¡± Mr. Whitmore triumphantly pulled something from underneath one of the sofa cushions, a large bronze instrument Oscar recognized as a double-barreled shotgun.

    ¡°How many of those do you have?¡± Jon said in disbelief.

    There was no time to answer. A polite knock sounded on the front door, followed immediately by a bang! that sent it flying off its hinges and clattering into the living room. In came the mystery sibling. He was almost as tall as the doorframe itself, with messy hair that was moonbeam silver, bright blue eyes and a cleft chin.

    Mr. Whitmore raised his shotgun and fired without the slightest bit of hesitation. The force of the rounds caused the man to stagger, but there was no other sign of damage.

    With anger flaring through his cold blue eyes he raised his own arm. There was some form of energy curling from his fingers, similar to the light beams Jon produced, but it was bluish-white. He flicked his arm and a jet of that strange energy flew from his hands and shot at Mr. Whitmore, who hissed in pain. The shotgun clattered out of his hand, which was coated in frost all the way up to the elbow ¡ª it was frozen solid. The man raised his arm in preparation for another attack, but just before the blast could connect Tim sped around and zoomed Mr. Whitmore to safety on the other side of the room, then doubled back to grab Jon before he could even register what had happened. The Harbinger looked confused for only a second, then he looked to his left with a very pronounced start.

    Jon was standing there, blazing with energy. A harsh, blinding light flared, with such force behind it that it blasted the Harbinger right back through the door and into the muddy water.

    ¡°Go, go!¡± Mr. Combs shouted, and they began to hurry up the staircase. Jon was leading Mr. Whitmore, who was hyperventilating, his arm still encased in ice.

    They had barely crested the stairs when they heard the sound of the walls of the living room being torn apart. Oscar chanced a glance back, and found with a jolt of horror that the Necroforager was forcing its way in, demolishing the stone around it. Next moment Oscar dived aside with a yell of indignation as a huge chunk of rock came hurtling up towards him. It tore right through the banisters, leaving a gaping hole in the wall behind it.

    ¡°Any ideas?¡± asked Mr. Whitmore, who was having his hand thawed by Jon.

    ¡°Back door?¡± Haley suggested tentatively. ¡°We could climb the fence and make a run for it.¡±

    ¡°In this storm? Forget about it,¡± said Jon.

    ¡°So we should stay in here and let them kill us?¡± Lauren said incredulously.

    ¡°No, but I do think we should split up,¡± Tim¡¯s father chimed in. Everyone stared at him, taken aback. ¡°That way at least some of us should be able to get away.¡±

    ¡°And what about the rest of us?¡± Tim¡¯s mother demanded.

    ¡°Maria, be practical,¡± he tried to reason with her.

    Their conversation was interrupted again by the sound of someone stomping around downstairs. It seemed the Harbinger had recovered from Jon¡¯s flashbang. Oscar¡¯s heart was pounding, but his mind was oddly clear. He turned to the others and took a deep breath, his resolve solidifying.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to cause a distraction, you guys try to get out through the back.¡±

    Jon looked up, his expression a mixture of surprise and impatience. ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid. They¡¯ll kill you!¡±

    ¡°No they won¡¯t.¡± Tim looked terrified, but his voice was quite steady as he spoke. ¡°I¡¯ll help him.¡±

    Both of his parents immediately burst into a storm of protest, but something collided with the wall in front of them and shattered, leaving fragments of glass littered on the magnificent carpet. It sounded like the Harbinger was dismantling the living room.

    ¡°No time to argue, run!¡± Oscar hissed, and without waiting for a reply he dashed off. He approached the corner cautiously, peering around at the intruders. The mystery sibling was there, looking furious, and he was now accompanied by Erymithia and her Necroforager. She was gazing around the living room while her brother craned his neck to look up at the second floor. It seemed for a moment that neither of them had spotted him ¡ª then without warning, the brother launched another blast of energy directly at him.

    It came so fast that he didn¡¯t even have time to dodge. Fortunately Tim grabbed hold of him just in time, hauling him out of the line of fire. Huge spires of ice were erupting from the spot where the beam had struck, like frozen stalagmites. One of the spires was so long that it stopped mere inches from his chest.

    Oscar looked down at it and gulped. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it.¡±

    Ahead of them, a pale hand crept around the wall, its fingers painted bright red, like the colour of fresh blood. Erymithia rounded the corner, smiling deviously.

    ¡°Weapons at the ready,¡± said Oscar, removing his necklace.

    ¡°You sure you know what you¡¯re doing?¡± Tim asked in a very small voice, sliding off his glasses and blinking rapidly.

    ¡°No. Nokk.¡± Purple light flashed through the hallway. A flash of red followed immediately, and next moment they stood there, Tim clutching his hammer, Oscar¡¯s hand encased in his gauntlet.

    Erymithia let out a soft ¡°oh¡± of amusement. ¡°Brightsteel. I haven¡¯t seen that in a while. I suppose I should be scared now. Aren¡¯t you scared, Orpheo?¡± she crooned.

    ¡°I¡¯m quaking in my boots,¡± grunted her brother, who had just appeared at her side.

    ¡°You should know, boys. Brightsteel isn¡¯t the only material that can be fatal to a celestial,¡± Erymithia said, holding out her hand. Black smoke billowed from her palm, taking shape before their very eyes. A moment later she was left clutching a long black scythe that looked like it might have been made of obsidian, but the metal was rougher, more flaky-looking. Orpheo held out his hand too, and in it materialized a huge double-sided black axe, polished to a mirror finish.

    ¡°Oh¡­ well, you learn something new everyday,¡± Oscar said.

    A bolt of lightning shot from Erymithia¡¯s finger. Tim grabbed hold of Oscar and sped off in a whirl of blue down the opposite end of the corridor. Orpheo launched yet another ice blast, but this time it wasn¡¯t aimed at them: the beam struck the floor, coating the carpet in a harsh layer of ice in an instant. Tim lost his balance and spiraled horribly, sending both of them hurtling down the corridor at breakneck speed. Oscar hit the wall so hard that he felt the breath knocked out of him.

    Orpheo swooped down upon them in an instant, his great boot swinging down upon Tim¡¯s chest like an anvil. He stomped with such force that Tim expelled a raspy cry of pure anguish, sinking a few feet into the ice, then the Harbinger raised his axe. Oscar had just one moment where he saw a sliver of his own wide-eyed expression reflected in the axe¡¯s cruel steel ¡ª then, at the other end of the corridor Valarok appeared, face set and holding up an arm as if to say ¡°enough.¡±

    The appearance of their older brother gave Orpheo pause. Erymithia, on the other hand, shrieked, ¡°No, it¡¯s a trick! The older one can conjure mirages!¡±

    Orpheo whipped his head around in astonishment, but Oscar was already on his feet, his arm reared back. Curling his gauntleted fist, he launched a punch directly in the Harbinger¡¯s midriff. The force of the blow created a visible shockwave; Orpheo was lifted off his feet, soaring down the corridor and through the wall into the next room.

    Erymithia shrieked with rage, electricity sparking at her fingertips. What happened next was so bizarre that for a moment Oscar thought Erymithia was so blinded with fury she had accidentally attacked herself. Then he realized that a separate blast of lightning had struck her from behind. She let out a scream of agony, then crumpled upon the icy carapace. It was then that Lauren was revealed behind her, clutching her spear, which was crackling with electricity that was a deeper shade of green than Erymithia¡¯s.

    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Keeping a wary eye on the fallen Harbinger, Lauren hurried over to Oscar¡¯s side. He hoisted Tim to his feet, who was clutching his throat and rasping, unable to breathe.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, you should start healing soon,¡± he said, examining the damage. His throat seemed to have sustained a heavy bruising. Wincing slightly, he looped his arm around Tim¡¯s shoulder and pulled him upright. Then his gaze flickered back to Lauren. ¡°I thought I told you to run.¡±

    ¡°You did, and I ignored you,¡± said Lauren, grabbing Tim¡¯s other arm and helping to carry him gingerly across the frozen hallway.

    ¡°Where¡¯s everybody else?¡±

    ¡°They went into Sytris¡¯s bedroom. Did you know there¡¯s a magic mirror in there? It¡¯s like some kind of weird portal, because I saw them slip right through it. I decided to come look for you instead.¡±

    ¡°Good thing you did. How you doing buddy?¡± he asked, as they turned right and headed down the hallway leading towards the back door.

    Tim tried to speak but nothing came out.

    ¡°That¡¯s progress. I think.¡±

    The only good thing about this whole debacle was that the Necroforager hadn¡¯t tried to join its master upstairs. If Oscar had to guess, it was too heavy to climb the staircase, which meant it was probably waiting for them somewhere outside. Unfortunately with the siblings behind them, it was either stay and deal with them, or handle the Necroforager instead. Both were terrible options, but he knew which one he preferred.

    They burst outside into the raging storm. It was difficult to make out anything for a moment, then a surge of light illuminated the area just long enough for them to discern the scene unfolding in front of them. Now they knew why the Necroforager hadn¡¯t come upstairs: it was deep in battle with Haley and Jon.

    ¡°I thought you said they went through the mirror?¡± Oscar demanded.

    ¡°I thought they did! They must have turned back.¡±

    Jon was firing multiple blasts in sequence, all of which seemed to be glancing harmlessly off the monster¡¯s rockbound body. Haley held up both of her arms and gestured forcefully at the creature, and they watched in amazement as a number of vines erupted from the ground beneath them, wrapping tightly around the monster and binding it in place. It seemed for a second that they had won ¡ª then the Necroforager burst out of its restraints, picked up a massive chunk of rock and hurled it at Haley. She dove out of the way just in time, narrowly avoiding being flattened.

    ¡°We have to help them,¡± Oscar said.

    ¡°Okay, but then who¡¯s going to help us?¡± Lauren said. Oscar and Tim turned in the direction she was facing. Erymithia and Orpheo had followed them through the back door, seething with rage, lightning coursing through the air around them.

    ¡°What do we do?¡± Lauren asked.

    ¡°I have no idea,¡± Oscar said quietly. It was painful to admit, but he was being completely truthful. They had gotten lucky so far, but they were outmatched and they knew it. The Harbingers were closing in from one side, and the Necroforager was advancing from the other.

    Haley rose to continue her fight, unfolding one of her fans with a raspy, metallic scraping noise. Just as she was about to throw it at the monster, Valarok appeared out of nowhere, directly at her side. He grabbed her hand and twisted so forcefully that she dropped her weapon, then slammed his elbow into her face so that she crashed into the ever-growing tide of water. Jon tried to come to her aid, but before he could launch a single blast the Necroforager¡¯s massive hand swooped down and grabbed him, pinning him firmly against the ground.

    ¡°Don¡¯t feel bad, children,¡± said Valarok. ¡°It was a valiant effort, but you must have known you never really stood a chance. Now. Here is what you would call an ultimatum: give us the nexus ¡ª¡±

    A horrible squelching noise pierced the air, followed by a long, guttural scream from Haley. Thunderstruck, they saw that something was extending from Haley¡¯s shoulder. The blade of a sword, as black as Erymithia¡¯s scythe.

    ¡°¡ª or your siblings die one by one,¡± Valarok finished. ¡°If you require further motivation, consider this: Auxilyte has the same effects as Brightsteel upon a god. One good hit in a vital area, and they die.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t have what you¡¯re talking about!¡± Tim said angrily, still massaging his throat.

    Valarok sighed. ¡°Very well, if you insist.¡± He twisted the blade in deeper. Beside him, Jon was fighting in vain against the Necroforager holding him down, spitting out a slew of curses. Haley¡¯s screams were bone-chilling, even with the raging winds and rain lapping around them. ¡°Final warning,¡± Valarok said in a singsong voice.

    Tim huffed with rage and moved towards him, enhanced by his divine speed. But Orpheo seemed to have been anticipating something like this: he fired again, though this time instead of freezing the ground he aimed directly at Tim¡¯s feet. His legs became encased in a block of ice and he crashed to the floor, unable to move as the ice spread swiftly over his entire lower body.

    ¡°Meddlesome insect,¡± Orpheo said scathingly.

    Valarok smiled. ¡°As we were saying. Unless you want me to jab this blade into her heart ¡ª¡±

    But he was interrupted again. This time however, it was not by any of them. Erymithia¡¯s hounds had started growling at the sky.

    ¡°Sister, please control your pets, they¡¯re interrupting a very engaging conversation,¡± Valarok said irritably.

    ¡°Azeban. Nyla,¡± she crooned. ¡°Oh my darlings¡­¡± She watched them as they continued to snarl and roar, then her eyes suddenly went wide. ¡°They¡¯ve sensed something.¡±

    ¡°Sensed wha ¡ª¡±

    Before Valarok could finish his sentence, something huge zoomed out of the darkness and smashed right into him. The Harbinger rolled across the lawn, spitting water out of his mouth as he came to a halt. Oscar looked around and saw a huge shape flying around them, but then he realized that it wasn¡¯t flying at all: it was galloping through the air.

    ¡°Sytris!¡± he said, a warm gush of relief flooding through him.

    Their caretaker had appeared at last, cantering around on the ventus, whose incorporeal form was flickering in and out of sight amid the heavy rain. The hounds seemed to have become enraged at the sight of Skylar, who was still ambling gracefully through the air. The ventus circled back and headed straight for the Necroforager.

    With a neigh of rage, she conjured a roaring tempest of emerald wind that surged at the monster, who was blown backwards, landing in a heap several feet away. Jon sprang to his feet, hurrying over to Haley¡¯s side.

    ¡°Took you long enough!¡± he yelled.

    Sytris came to a halt beside them, dismounting with a look of cold fury on his face. ¡°My apologies, I came as fast as I could.¡± He glanced at Haley, who was squirming around on the floor, a pool of blood forming beside her. ¡°Help her up.¡±

    Jon extracted the sword and lifted her up with some difficulty. Oscar made to help, but Sytris threw out a hand to stop him. ¡°Listen to me closely. While I expected this safehouse to serve us much longer than this, I did take precautions in case it was compromised prematurely. This ¡ª¡± He thrust a rolled up piece of paper at him ¡°¡ª is marked with the location of another safehouse, and further instructions. The five of you must get there now. It¡¯s less protected, but it will be harder for them to locate.¡±

    ¡°What about you? What about our folks?¡±

    Sytris shook his head. ¡°Focus on yourselves. I will do everything in my power to protect your¡± ¡ª he hesitated for a fraction of a second ¡ª ¡°parents, but you need to leave now.¡±

    The remaining Harbingers flocked to their brother¡¯s side, then Erymithia locked eyes with Sytris. ¡°You!¡± she shrieked.

    Sytris made no response, but something seemed to shift in his expression.

    ¡°A little help here!¡± Tim shouted, banging uselessly away at his ice restraints. Lauren waded over to Tim¡¯s side and shattered the ice encasing him with the brunt of her spear, then turned the tip towards Erymithia.

    ¡°No!¡± said Sytris, rushing forward. ¡°I¡¯ll handle them. Get to the safehouse!¡±

    They hesitated for only a moment, then Tim, Lauren and Oscar took off in Jon¡¯s direction.

    ¡°Azeban! Nyla! Kill the ventus!¡± screamed Erymithia. The reins tethering the dogs to the chariot vanished. The hounds let out a bloodcurdling roar, then bounded towards them, riding on the storm winds. Skylar whinnied in terror and galloped away just as Oscar was climbing onto her back.

    He screamed as the sudden movement sent him toppling over, clutching onto Jon¡¯s hand as he hung dangerously over the edge.

    Down below he saw Tim and Lauren yelling in panic, trapped on the ground.

    Jon tried to pull him up, but between the erratic movements of the ventus and the fierce wind and rain lashing at them from all sides, his grip slackened and Oscar went tumbling off into the night. He fell so hard that he was positive something was broken. The water level was so high now that it was almost impossible to make out the grass it was covering. Oscar pushed himself up, sweeping his rain-sodden hair out of his face.

    Sytris was engaged in battle with Orpheo. He was wielding two long swords, both of which were wrapped in dark red flames. Even with the wind howling violently in his ears he could still hear the clangs of metal on metal as they swiped and jabbed furiously at each other, their blows obviously aiming to kill.

    Oscar rose, limping. His right ankle was twisted. Several yards in front of him, a pit of scarlet fire was forming at Sytris¡¯s feet, then it gushed upwards in a mighty stream. At first he thought it was headed for Orpheo, then he realized he was mistaken. The ventus had just appeared overhead, desperately trying to evade her pursuers. Azeban and Nyla came scrambling along in her wake, but the raging inferno collided with them in midair and they vanished in the gulf of flames.

    Jon finally managed to reestablish some form of control over Skylar. Jerking the reins he sent the ventus gliding towards Oscar, while Erymithia¡¯s agonized screeches filled the air. In an instant he had pulled Oscar off the ground and onto her back.

    The short interruption had cost Sytris a great deal. Diverting his attention to the hounds had created an opening that Orpheo had gladly seized. With one hand he used his massive axe to send Sytris¡¯s blades clattering out of his hands. With his other, he materialized a long, slender lance of solid ice, then sank it straight into Sytris¡¯s chest.

    Oscar couldn¡¯t stop the gasp that escaped him. Even though he knew that such a wound couldn¡¯t kill Sytris, it was still horrifying to witness. Several feet of the lance emerged from Sytris¡¯s back, glistening with blood.

    Orpheo¡¯s other hand was doubling back in a wide swing of his axe. Jon steered Skylar downwards, galloping towards them at full speed, but even as fast as she was there was no way they could make it in time. But as it turned out they needn¡¯t have bothered. If Oscar had blinked he would have missed it entirely: the great blue blur that was Tim streaked in, knocking the axe out of his hand before it could make contact. Then with his hammer he launched a devastating blow, augmented by his speed, that collided directly with the Harbinger¡¯s jaw. Orpheo was blown backwards with a sickening crunch, and his armoured figure was soon swallowed up in the darkness of the storm.

    Oscar felt a surge of pride, but the celebration was short-lived. Somewhere to their left they heard a voice that was unmistakably Lauren¡¯s screaming like a banshee.

    They spotted her immediately, splashing away from the huge silhouette of the Necroforager. Jon changed direction at once, but the storm seemed to be getting worse.

    The winds were so powerful that it was hard to stay upright. They were swooping down towards her when a fierce spout of wind suddenly erupted, blowing them off course. It took everything they had to hold on to the reins. When finally they had regained their balance, he saw Tim zooming onto the scene, rescuing Lauren, who had fallen, from being crushed underneath the monster¡¯s enormous foot.

    Tim stopped directly underneath them, clutching a dazed-looking Lauren. They dipped again ¡ª and again were rebuffed by the wind.

    ¡°Go! We¡¯ll catch up with you!¡± Tim shouted.

    ¡°No way!¡± Jon yelled back. He tried to steer Skylar downwards, but it was impossible. It was like the storm was alive, actively fighting them too.

    ¡°Just go! We¡¯ll be fine!¡±

    Lauren yelped as Tim swept her into his arms. He gave them a nod of reassurance, spared one final look somewhere off to his right, then sped off in the opposite direction. The blue blur streaked through a hole the storm had blown into the fence and vanished into the murky depths. Jon glanced at Oscar, jaw agape. Haley was still unconscious beside them. Down below they saw Sytris, which Oscar realized was probably what Tim was looking at before he ran off.

    They tried to veer towards their caretaker instead, but the storm had become so thick that he vanished from sight before they could even get anywhere close. The last image they saw was him holding his flaming blades aloft once more as Erymithia advanced in a cloud of lightning, then he was gone. There was nothing more they could do.

    ¡°Go! Just go!¡± Oscar shouted.

    Jon looked like he wanted to protest, but he didn¡¯t. Instead he jerked the reins upwards. With a tremendous effort, Skylar broke away and took to the sky, galloping away from the mansion.

 Chapter 18: The Storm

    Lauren had no idea what was happening anymore. Unable to differentiate up from down or right from left, she simply closed her eyes and held on as tightly as she could. She could feel the raging winds and rain lashing at them like ice-cold whips, feel water splashing onto her clothes from the puddles underneath them as they ran, but she didn¡¯t dare open her eyes. She had already tried, and whenever she did the overwhelming blur of motion, noises, and colours left her head reeling. It was like being on a dysfunctional rollercoaster ride, only fifty times worse. She decided to block it out as best as she could and put her faith in Tim.

    After what felt like an eternity they slowed to a halt. Lauren felt herself being lowered into an ankle-high pool of water, and it seemed they had found some sort of shelter at last because the rain was no longer assaulting them, but she still kept her eyes tightly sealed.

    ¡°Where are we?¡±

    ¡°Not sure. But I think I put enough distance between us and them. Um¡­ you can open your eyes now.¡±

    With some reluctance Lauren complied and immediately regretted it. A powerful wave of dizziness crashed over her and she stumbled, her eyes rolling around. Tim grabbed her just before she went sprawling into the water. She allowed herself a few seconds to adjust, then Tim came into focus, a nervous look in the hazel eyes framed behind his spectacles.

    ¡°You okay?¡±

    ¡°No! How could I possibly be okay after any of that? I almost died at least six times in the last fifteen minutes, my parents are probably dead, and we¡¯re stranded in a storm in the middle of nowhere!¡±

    Lauren stood there, chest heaving with emotion, as the dire gravity of their situation finally began to sink in. Tim did not respond, but simply watched her while she took a moment to collect herself, her breathing slowly evening. Then she looked up at him, an uncomfortable feeling rising like bile in her throat.

    ¡°Sorry. I know this isn¡¯t your fault. I¡¯m just so¡­ I don¡¯t even know what I¡¯m feeling right now, to tell you the truth. I mean I¡¯ve had some really bad days, but this ¡ª this is a new low. How did this become the norm for us?¡±

    Lauren pushed her rain-whipped hair out of her face and sat down. Now that she looked around, she saw that Tim had taken them into what looked like a small gazebo just outside a fancy-looking restaurant. It was neatly constructed of dark wood with bright orange roofing. There were several round, purple-and-white tables littered around them, some of which actually had remnants of half-finished meals upon them, as if their diners had rushed out prematurely because of the weather. Under different circumstances this place would have been perfect for a nice relaxing dinner, but it seemed the storm had done quite a number on it.

    Tim sat down beside her, and through the corner of her eyes she saw that he was shivering.

    ¡°I just wish we knew what was happening,¡± said Lauren, absently picking at a spot on her drenched blouse. ¡°Did they get away? Are our parents all right? What about Sytris?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Tim spoke at last. ¡°I want to think everyone¡¯s fine. That mirror they were taken to, it leads to some kind of forge, like a blacksmith¡¯s workshop. If the Harbingers don¡¯t know how the mirror works, then our parents should be safe. At least for now. But the others¡­¡± He heaved a deep sigh. ¡°And we can¡¯t even call them,¡± Tim said angrily, flashing his cellphone, which had been rendered useless by the storm. ¡°Maybe they¡¯ve got a landline in there somewhere.¡±

    He nodded at the restaurant, which was dubbed ¡°The Red Stiletto¡± according to a glowing neon sign hanging just above the front door, complete with a crimson, comically large high-heeled boot. ¡°Do you have anyone¡¯s numbers memorized?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t even remember what I had for breakfast this morning.¡±

    Tim reclined in his seat. For a moment they simply sat there in silence, listening to the rain violently hammering against the roof. Then, to Lauren¡¯s immense surprise, Tim started laughing. It began as a small chuckle, then after a few seconds it turned into a full-blown guffaw.

    ¡°Mind sharing the joke?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just the irony. I mean, do you have any idea how funny it is to hear the Goddess of Memory say she can¡¯t remember something?¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t had the chance to practice my powers,¡± Lauren said defensively. ¡°In case you¡¯ve forgotten, I kept getting blown off every time I raised the subject.¡±

    ¡°I was wondering what was up with that too. It¡¯s almost like he¡­¡± Tim¡¯s words trailed off. Lauren glanced up at him and saw that he looked troubled.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Something Jon said¡­ nevermind, it¡¯s stupid.¡±

    ¡°Oh no ¡ª you brought it up, spill it.¡±

    He hesitated, then he rubbed the bridge of his nose. ¡°Jon doesn¡¯t really trust Sytris. He thinks he¡¯s ¡ª shady.¡±

    ¡°¡®Shady¡¯?¡± Lauren repeated in an ¡°are you serious¡± voice.

    ¡°Yeah. He thinks he might have deliberately kept you from learning more about your powers so that you wouldn¡¯t find out something he¡¯s been trying to hide.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s ¡ª that¡¯s¡­¡± She wanted to say ¡°moronic¡± but the word got lost somewhere on the way to her tongue. Her brows furrowed as she considered what she had just heard, analyzing previous interactions with Sytris. ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound completely out of the question," she said slowly.

    Tim looked just as shocked as she felt to hear her in agreement. ¡°Well, what do you think he might be hiding?¡±

    Lauren shrugged. ¡°Could be something about our parents ¡ª our birth parents, I mean. Something he thinks we¡¯d be better off not knowing.¡±

    ¡°Or it could be something about himself.¡±

    ¡°Like what?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. He¡¯s said it before, he¡¯s been around for a while. Maybe hundreds of years, thousands even. Maybe he did some things he wasn¡¯t proud of. Things he believes that if we heard, we wouldn¡¯t trust him again.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Lauren said very seriously. ¡°What if it¡¯s something really heinous? Like, what if he was one of those people who invented disco music, or bell-bottom pants?¡±

    Tim gaped at her for a moment, then both burst out laughing. They laughed so hard and so long that she could actually feel stitches forming in her sides. Chancing another glance at him, she saw that some of the tension had left him. In her eighteen years of existence, she had never really felt lonely, but she couldn¡¯t deny to herself that she felt things would have been a lot more interesting in her youth if there had been a few more faces in her household. And now, she was an older sister. It really was crazy the kinds of curveballs life could throw at you.

    Lauren rose. ¡°I¡¯m going to find something to eat,¡± she said, nodding at The Red Stiletto. ¡°Coming?¡±

    Tim looked rather uncomfortable. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Stealing from them right after they were hit by a freak storm doesn¡¯t feel right.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not stealing, it¡¯s more like¡­ salvaging what the storm didn¡¯t destroy. Besides, I¡¯m pretty sure you¡¯ve been thinking it too: the fact that this storm might be a result of something supernatural? Who knows when the weather will ease up? All those products could end up going bad anyway.¡±

    Tim hesitated again, but after a moment he too rose with a resigned look on his face and followed her through the deep channel of muddy water leading to the restaurant¡¯s front door. Fortunately the door was unlocked. Lauren turned the handle and they hurried inside out of the rain. The interior was dark and messy: glassware, cutlery, and portions of meals littered the floor, chairs and tables were overturned, and a number of boxes had been knocked over, their contents askew.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Jon and his magic hands when you need him?¡± Tim muttered as they entered the kitchen, which was also ravaged.

    ¡°See if you can find some candles, or a flashlight.¡± Lauren and Tim began to dig through the drawers, searching for any kind of light source they could find. It was slow goings what with the limited visibility, but after a few minutes a triumphant yell reverberated through the room. Tim straightened up holding a stack of candles and a lighter.

    Once they were lit they began to peruse the room once more, trying to find something edible. A brief glance through the inventory revealed some partially soggy pastries and platters of food that were only half-finished. Lauren looked at them with distaste, but they weren¡¯t in a position to be picky.

    She began to nibble at the dry sections of a strawberry shortcake, and in the few seconds while she pecked at her own Tim was already starting a third snack.

    ¡°Running for too long makes me really hungry,¡± Tim explained, when he saw her staring at him. ¡°I figured that out recently.¡±

    ¡°I can see why. No offense, but it was terrifying running with you. I felt like I was on a carnival ride from hell.¡±

    ¡°Mild offense taken,¡± Tim said, holding a hand to his chest with an expression of mock hurt. ¡°But yeah, I get it. It wasn¡¯t all that fun for me at first. If you knew the amount of trees I smashed into ¡ª and the bugs I swallowed could raise a whole insect farm.¡±

    Lauren giggled. ¡°And then, let me guess, our wise caretaker helped you get better?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s actually a pretty decent teacher. Who knew?¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t, seeing as I¡¯ve never been to a lesson.¡± She didn¡¯t mean to sound as bitter as she had, but the frustration seeped into her voice all the same. ¡°And now, who knows when ¡ª or if ¡ª I¡¯ll ever get the chance?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got a crazy idea,¡± Tim said after a small pause. ¡°Why don¡¯t you try to teach yourself?¡±

    ¡°What good will that do? I don¡¯t have any experience with this kind of thing.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure we can figure something out.¡±

    ¡°Where would we even start?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ I think I know. What was it like, in those two days when you were stuck reliving your memories?¡±

    Lauren had just raised a strawberry to her lips, but as Tim posed his question she froze and lowered it slowly onto the counter.

    ¡°You know what, never mind, I shouldn¡¯t have asked ¡ª¡± Tim said quickly.

    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    ¡°No no, it¡¯s okay.¡± Lauren took a deep breath. She had been trying to avoid this subject all morning, but she knew she would have to face it again at some point. ¡°It¡¯s just ¡ª it still feels so bizarre to think I was out for two whole days, when at most it felt like a few hours. It was intriguing, but it was also kind of scary, you know. Watching all these things that happened to you from an outside perspective. I felt like a ghost looking in at someone else¡¯s life. I barely had any recollection of those things at all, and to think that the memories were preserved so perfectly, even the minor details. It was like I was watching a movie.¡±

    ¡°Well, what if that¡¯s the answer right there?¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°Memory is your domain, so you can probably regulate it in whatever way you think is easiest. All of our memories are sorted based on importance right, so the more relevant ones are retained and the older, less crucial ones are shipped out. For some memories a good chunk of the details are faded out, and the rest we lose entirely. Or so we thought.

    ¡°What if we never actually lost anything? What if everything we¡¯ve ever experienced is perfectly preserved in some kind of magical database, but our brains only have access to certain parts of it? Think of it like some kind of library, but some of the sections are closed off and you¡¯re the one with the master key.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d say that sounds crazy.¡±

    ¡°Crazy is basically our life now, might as well embrace it.¡± Tim set down his plate and took one of Lauren¡¯s hands in his own. She raised an eyebrow at him but didn¡¯t protest.

    ¡°Let¡¯s try something: how about you try to tap into one of my memories, something more recent to make it easier.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never done something like that before.¡±

    ¡°First time for everything right? Think about it: if you can find a way to access a person¡¯s memories, anywhere anytime, imagine how useful that could be? We could find out what happened to everyone else, learn more about Sytris, or the Harbingers¡­ See what life was like back on Algyria,¡± he finished quietly.

    Lauren contemplated this, staring into his pale, hopeful face. He was giving his best impression of sad puppy-dog-eyes, which certainly didn¡¯t help the matter. She gave a sigh of resignation. ¡°Okay fine. It¡¯s worth a try, at the very least.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit!¡± Tim said happily. ¡°Okay, now ¡ª concentrate¡­¡±

    Lauren tried, but it was hard to concentrate when you had no idea what you were concentrating on. Memories were abstract, she had no solid basis to work with, but she tried all the same, trying to peer into the mysterious mind of Tim Bryant to find out what exactly could make him so hopelessly optimistic in the face of imminent despair¡­

    ¡°This feels silly,¡± she said when almost a whole minute had passed and no results had been seen.

    ¡°Just keep trying. Look, why don¡¯t you try to narrow it down a bit? How about a memory from the previous week, our time at the mansion specifically.¡±

    Lauren breathed in deeply. She cast around for ideas and settled on the simplest one: what he had for breakfast that morning. If an image like that came up she would know for sure it had worked, because she almost never had breakfast with anyone else, preferring to take hers in her room. It should have been easy, and yet no matter how hard she concentrated or breathed her mind remained blank.

    ¡°Ugh!¡± She pulled her hand away irritably. ¡°This isn¡¯t working. I knew this was a waste of time.¡±

    To her surprise and indignation, Tim was smiling. ¡°What about this situation could possibly make you happy?¡± she said incredulously. ¡°We failed!¡±

    ¡°True, but this storm clearly isn¡¯t going anywhere for a while, so I guess we have all the time in the world to keep trying. Why don¡¯t you keep working on it and I¡¯ll go whip up something else to eat, I¡¯m starving.¡±

    ¡°You just had three helpings!¡± Lauren said, staring at him.

    Tim looked genuinely surprised. ¡°Really? It felt way less than that.¡±

    <hr>

    Tim was right: the storm didn¡¯t let up for another two days. Lauren was still concerned that they could be discovered here, but when she finally voiced these thoughts aloud Tim assured her that he had made sure to put so much distance between them and the mansion that they were probably in a different continent. They tried countless times to contact their siblings and parents, but the storm seemed to have knocked out the communication lines. For three days they remained in The Red Stiletto, spending most of their time in the kitchen (which was one of the few places that hadn¡¯t been reduced to rubble by the water damage), and when they were bored they would explore the few other rooms that had been spared.

    Despite Lauren insisting that it was a waste of time, Tim managed to convince her to continue practicing. He maintained that it was, unlike his own power, a case of mental fortitude and merely required sufficient force of mind.

    Clearly that was something Lauren lacked: no matter how much effort she poured into it, her powers would not respond. Aside from the time they had shown her Oscar¡¯s memory of the bar and the two-day period she had spent as a prisoner in her own memories, she had never been able to turn them on or off.

    Lauren was taking the lack of results as something of a personal insult. She had maintained a 4.0 GPA in her pursuit of following her parents¡¯ footsteps to becoming a dentist, and yet she couldn¡¯t figure out how to trigger her own stupid powers. After a while, despite maintaining her front that it was all a colossal waste of time, she started staying up a bit longer when Tim dozed off to continue her practice sessions, determined to get the results she was seeking.

    ¡°Can you just work with me for one minute!¡± she burst out on the fourth night. Tim, who had zoomed out some time before to ¡°salvage¡± some sleeping bags and more supplies, was curled up on the floor some feet away. He was snoozing gently, completely unfazed by her outburst.

    After checking one last time to ensure that he was still sleeping peacefully, she returned to the task she had set herself: for the past few hours she had alternated between trying to access the memories of different family members, to determine if they were okay or not. Oscar, Jon, Haley, her parents ¡ª she was unsuccessful with all of them. She chose to believe that this was a result of her own personal shortcomings, rather than a darker alternative. After all she didn¡¯t know if it was possible to tap into the memories of someone who was no longer living.

    If Sytris had given her even the most basic of instructions, maybe this wouldn¡¯t have been so difficult.

    Sytris¡­ She didn¡¯t know where he was either, and a part of her ¡ª a part she was trying to silence quite viciously ¡ª was more concerned with his fate than those of their siblings. The last time they had seen each other, all three of them had been together. Haley hadn¡¯t been in good condition but she was with Jon and Oscar, secure on Skylar¡¯s back. She wanted to believe that just as she and Tim had managed to escape, so they did too. Maybe they, like her and Tim, were also stranded in some deserted, rain-washed building, waiting for the storm to pass. Maybe they had even arrived at the safehouse Sytris had mentioned.

    But the last time they had seen him, glancing back just before Tim had sped them away, he was locked in battle with Erymithia. There was no telling what could have happened afterwards.

    If they had known the location of the safehouse maybe they could have met up with the others there, worrying about their guardian together. That was why she was focusing so hard on Oscar. He was the one that the map had been thrust upon. If she could just be taken back to that moment, she could review the details herself.

    ¡°Okay Lauren,¡± she said quietly, taking another deep breath and closing her eyes. ¡°Focus¡­¡±

    She remained completely still, moderating her breathing rate.

    In¡­ out¡­

    Lauren focused on Oscar, clutching desperately at anything and everything she could remember to strengthen the connection.

    In¡­ out¡­

    She visualized his face: the green eyes, so similar to her own (albeit a bit bloodshot), the olive skin, the messy dark curls.

    In¡­ out¡­

    After a few moments of this Lauren noticed something: the violent howling of the rain had disappeared. She opened her eyes at last. She was back in the mansion, standing around the vast dining table. Almost every chair was empty except the one directly in front of her, which was occupied by ¡ª

    ¡°Oscar!¡±

    He was sitting with one foot on the table top, clutching a can of diet coke in one hand with a rather faraway look on his face. She was so excited to see him that it took her a moment to realize that he could neither see nor hear her, and then she noticed that the entire scene was once again in black-and-white. She was inside a memory.

    It seemed to be a rather uneventful one though. He wasn¡¯t doing anything, simply staring in the opposite direction as if he could see beyond the mansion¡¯s walls. Well, Lauren thought, a little disappointed, it was only a trial run. The important thing was that it had worked, not what she would see. She was about to try to dissolve the memory and return to the real world when something happened that took her completely by surprise: in came her own parents, looking weary and miserable.

    Oscar sat up at once, expression frantic.

    ¡°How is she?¡±

    Her father took a deep, shuddering breath before he answered. ¡°She still won¡¯t wake up. Even Sytris doesn¡¯t know what¡¯s happening. We¡¯ve been trying to wake her for over half an hour but she won¡¯t budge.¡±

    Oscar sank back into his seat, looking dejected.

    Mrs. Combs looked to be on the verge of tears. She was clutching a tissue in her hand, dabbing at her nose. ¡°We have to call an ambulance. We ¡ª¡±

    ¡°And do what, Melissa? Human doctors aren¡¯t going to be able to anything: this is a magical problem.¡±

    Lauren had never heard her father sound this way before, so feeble, so helpless. So this was what was happening in the two days she had been strolling down memory lane.

    Mrs. Combs¡¯s lips trembled, then the tears she had been repressing burst from their banks. ¡°We can¡¯t leave her like this. She¡¯s in a coma, Andrew. What if she ¡ª what if she¡­?¡± Unable to finish the dreadful thought, she put her face in her hands and dissolved entirely into tears. Her father gently took hold of her arms and pulled her into a firm embrace, running his hand through her hair.

    After a few moments she regained herself, looking up at Oscar through red eyes. ¡°Thank you for checking in on her. Sytris thinks if you hadn¡¯t found her when you did, it could have ended up worse. At least this way he can try to help before it becomes too serious.¡±

    ¡°Do you think he can undo it?¡± Oscar asked.

    Her parents exchanged a look.

    ¡°I want to believe he can,¡± Mr. Combs said. ¡°He has much more experience in this sort of thing than any of us, after all. We just have to put our faith in him.¡±

    A whirl of gray streaked into the room, creating a gust of wind that Lauren didn¡¯t feel but which sent their clothes and hair rippling around. It was Tim, holding a clear plastic bag filled with a number of strange-looking plants.

    ¡°I got here as fast as I could,¡± he said, handing the bag to Lauren¡¯s father. ¡°I got everything on the list.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Tim. We¡¯ll let you know if anything changes.¡± Mr. Combs took the bag and hurried upstairs with his wife in tow. Tim took the chair he had just vacated, looking anxious.

    ¡°How do you think it happened?¡±

    ¡°Your guess is as good as mine.¡±

    ¡°Do you¡­ do you think she¡¯ll wake up?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I¡­ Yes,¡± Oscar replied, his voice more confident. ¡°Definitely. There¡¯s nothing physically wrong with her. That¡¯s what Sytris said.¡±

    ¡°Psychic monster attack?¡± suggested Tim.

    Oscar pondered the thought for a few seconds. ¡°Could be, but why it would affect her and no one else?¡±

    ¡°Lauren?¡±

    Lauren jumped almost a foot in the air. The voice was familiar, but its owner was in front of her, reeling off a list of potential monsters who could have caused Lauren¡¯s sopor. She wheeled around and found herself face-to-face with another Tim, who was dressed differently from the one she had been watching. Unlike the other, this one shone with colour, standing out vividly among the monochrome background.

    ¡°Woah¡­ is this a memory?¡± Tim asked, his eyes darting all over to take in every detail. His confusion gave way to a huge smile. ¡°I knew you could do it!¡±

    Lauren had still not recovered from his sudden appearance. ¡°How did you ¡ª how are you here?¡± she sputtered.

    ¡°No idea, one minute I was dreaming and the next I was in here. Wow, this is really creepy,¡± he said, watching himself deep in conversation with Oscar. He strode around to his memory-self and waved his hand vigorously in front of his face, but predictably his black-and-white incarnation didn¡¯t give the slightest indication he knew he was there.

    ¡°This is so cool. Creepy, but cool. You must have accidentally pulled me in here with you somehow.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t even know that was possible.¡±

    A frightened look dawned on Tim¡¯s face for the first time. ¡°Wait, we¡¯re not going to end up stuck in here for days again, are we?¡±

    ¡°Uh ¡ª no, of course not,¡± she said with so little conviction that Tim raised his eyebrows. She huffed a deep sigh. ¡°I have no idea.¡±

    ¡°Well, try to wake us up.¡±

    Lauren nodded, although she was still interested in seeing this memory play out a bit more. She closed her eyes again, leveling her breathing. In¡­ out¡­ in¡­ out¡­

    The sound of voices in the background faded. Slowly the lashing of the storm against the Red Stiletto¡¯s faded walls returned to hearing. Lauren opened her eyes and the messy, dimly lit kitchen greeted her, along with Tim, who was wide awake now, halfway out of his sleeping bag and gazing up at her in awe. He grabbed his phone and looked at the screen.

    ¡°Oh my God,¡± he said, a look of abject terror on his face. ¡°We were out for thirteen days!¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Lauren felt as if the world had crumbled under her feet. She had slipped through the cracks and was falling, falling through a dark and lonely abyss ¡ª

    ¡°I¡¯m just kidding, it¡¯s only been a few hours,¡± Tim said with a grin.

    ¡°You are so ¡ª ugh!¡± Lauren groaned, tossing the remnants of her sandwich at him.

    Chuckling, Tim threw off his sleeping bag and moved closer, eyes alight under his glasses. ¡°Can you try that again? Only this time, see if you can bring me with you on purpose.¡±

 Chapter 19: First of His Name

    Six days. That was how long they remained at the Red Stiletto, marooned in the storm. It had seemed almost impossible that the weather could actually get worse, until Tim was proven wrong shortly after midnight on Saturday. The winds and rain became so violent that the walls of the already damaged kitchen were torn clean off, along with a sizable portion of the roof. The interior was flooding so quickly that they had no choice but to flee. Lauren was right: this storm was clearly a supernatural force.

    On and on Tim ran, Lauren clutching onto him so fiercely that between her and the storm he could barely breathe, trying to fight through the haze of fog and heavy droplets battering his glasses. His mobility was severely limited and visibility wasn¡¯t much better. Most of the roads had devolved into deep channels of swirling, muddy water. Wherever Jon, Haley, and Oscar were in this storm, he hoped they were all right.

    At last, after nearly an hour of confused, desperate running, Tim laid eyes upon their new safehaven. It was an abandoned house nestled upon a hill that had managed to escape the floodwaters. It was an agonizing climb, but they finally managed to push through the front doors, drenched and gasping for breath, but safe.

    ¡°I think we should make a note, that whichever Harbinger is responsible for the storm is the one we need to kill first,¡± Lauren said savagely, squeezing water from her hair.

    ¡°It¡¯s Valarok,¡± Tim said with so much conviction that Lauren stared at him. He removed his sneakers and emptied the water that had been sloshing around his feet during their entire journey. ¡°It¡¯s obvious, isn¡¯t it? By process of elimination: Orpheo creates ice and Erymithia shoots lightning, so Big Brother is the most logical choice.¡±

    ¡°I guess,¡± Lauren said, though she sounded uncertain.

    Tim hesitated, wondering if now was the best time to raise a concern that had recently come to his attention. He chanced a glance at Lauren and saw that she still looked displeased, but in fairness that was pretty much how she had looked for most of their time at the restaurant. Trying to tap into buried memories was a much more difficult art to master than Tim had given credit for. He stood indecisive for a moment, but then he plowed on. ¡°Speaking of those three, I¡¯ve been wondering about something. We know that Erymithia shoots lightning right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°Green lightning,¡± Tim said with a very pointed look.

    ¡°Yeah?¡± said Lauren, who had clearly not gotten the hint.

    ¡°And your spear also generates green lightning,¡± said Tim, gesturing more emphatically with his hands.

    A look of uncertainty clouded Lauren¡¯s face, which told him she had understood at last. ¡°You ¡ª you think there¡¯s some kind of correlation?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. But I think it¡¯s way too much of a coincidence to pose it up to chance.¡±

    ¡°But we¡¯ve never met Erymithia or any of the Harbingers before last week. What kind of connection could there be?¡±

    ¡°Right. We never met them before, but did you see the way Erymithia reacted when she saw Sytris? It¡¯s like she knew him. And there¡¯s reason to think he was the one who created our weapons: you know, the blacksmith¡¯s forge we found through the mirror in his room. What if they actually met before, and your spear was created with some inspiration from her?¡±

    Lauren paused, taking it all in. ¡°I know you said crazy is our life now and we should embrace it, but there¡¯s really only so much crazy I can process at a time and I¡¯ve already gone over the quota for today.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not even daybreak yet.¡±

    ¡°Exactly!¡±

    Lauren strode over to a mercifully dry patch of floor and sat down, a look of deep exasperation on her face. Tim sat down beside her.

    ¡°You know, we never really talked about them showing up ¡ª what it means. I guess mostly I was trying to avoid the subject until we could all discuss it together when¡­ if we all made it to Sytris¡¯s safehouse. But spending six days in a mystical storm can make you evaluate some of your choices, I suppose.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s there to talk about?¡± asked Lauren. ¡°Aside from the fact that you think Sytris might have been involved with the people who want us dead?¡±

    ¡°Well that¡¯s just it ¡ª do they want us dead?¡± Lauren whipped her head around so fast that it seemed she almost cricked her neck, and gave him such an incredulous stare that he hastened on: ¡°What I mean is, killing us didn¡¯t look like it was their top priority. They wanted something from us. Some kind of ¡ª erm¡­ what was it again?¡±

    Tim racked his brain to remember but the word the eldest brother had used eluded him, as if it had been washed out of his mind by the hurricane.

    ¡°They called it a nexus,¡± Lauren said quietly.

    ¡°Yes. They think we have that, whatever that is.¡±

    ¡°But we don¡¯t!¡± she said indignantly. ¡°Why would they even think we do? None of us knew that magic or any of this stuff was real until five minutes ago!¡±

    Tim sat silently for a moment, turning it over in his mind, trying to consider all the possibilities. ¡°Maybe¡­ maybe it¡¯s something like our weapons. We had them all this time without knowing what they actually were. They said they tracked the nexus to the mansion, right? It could have been close by and we had no idea, which is why they were so sure that it was there.¡±

    Lauren, who had jumped to her feet and began pacing around in agitation, paused. Then she gave a pronounced sigh and turned to face him. ¡°If that is what actually happened, I can give you one guess who would know a thing or two about magical artifacts concealed as mundane accessories.¡±

    Tim sighed too. ¡°Sytris.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you see? All of this boils right back down to him.¡±

    ¡°Woah woah, hold on.¡± Tim stood up as well, looking up into Lauren¡¯s pale, confused face. She was rather taller than him, her bright green eyes narrowed. He wasn¡¯t sure why he was even defending Sytris, only that some part of him wished to hear his side of the story before passing judgment. Lauren was the second person to aim mistrust against him, it was only fair that he be given the chance to clear his name. ¡°That¡¯s assuming that he even knows what this nexus thing is.¡±

    ¡°He probably does. He went to all these lengths to create a bunch of magical safehouses just to make sure that the Harbingers couldn¡¯t reach us, but the Harbingers live on a completely different planet. Why would they chase us across the galaxy unless there¡¯s something in it for them? The thrill of the kill?¡± She scoffed. ¡°Doesn¡¯t seem likely. But if they thought that we had something important that they needed¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not saying it¡¯s impossible, but that doesn¡¯t mean this is Sytris¡¯s fault. He was fulfilling his mission to protect us. For all we know, him creating the safehouses could have just been because he didn¡¯t want to take any chances. It¡¯s not like the Harbingers are the only supernatural threats that are out there.¡±

    Lauren rolled her eyes to the heavens and shook her head. ¡°Fine. If you want to play the role of the dutiful optimist, go ahead. Let him have the chance to explain. All the more reason to find out what happened to him.¡±

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t agree more,¡± Tim said, sliding his feet reluctantly back into his soggy sneakers. Lauren¡¯s eyebrows drew together.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to try to go back to the mansion, to see if there¡¯s anything there that could point us in the right direction.¡±

    ¡°Are you crazy?¡± said Lauren at once. ¡°What if the Harbingers are still there? Or what if they¡¯re out there looking for us right now and you run right into them?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m going alone. It¡¯d be easier to get away if it¡¯s just me, and this way even if things go south no one else has to get hurt. You stay here and try to see what you can get on Sytris, or anyone else really. But as the Goddess of Memory that¡¯s something only you can do. I can¡¯t help with this, but sitting here doing nothing while you try to find the others isn¡¯t making me feel any better. I just ¡ª I feel like I need to do something.¡±

    ¡°Going out in this freak weather isn¡¯t going to help anyone! What if you get caught? Then where would we be?¡±

    Tim smirked at her, adjusting his glasses. ¡°Are you worried about me? Careful Lauren, you¡¯re starting to sound more and more like a big sister with every passing minute.¡±

    She didn¡¯t respond, but she was giving him a silent pleading look.

    ¡°I can¡¯t stay cooped up anymore. I know you understand how frustrating it is.¡±

    Lauren exhaled through her nose. ¡°Fine,¡± she said grudgingly. ¡°Do what you have to do. Just don¡¯t die, you idiot. And don¡¯t get caught either.¡±

    ¡°That I can promise. I¡¯m the God of Speed, remember? Running is my specialty.¡±

    He gave her one last, reassuring smile, then turned and raced off, through the door and down the hill.

    <hr>

    It was much easier maneuvering through the rain without Lauren. Now that he could make better use of his arms and was free of the heavy weight on his back, Tim was able to move much more freely. He resigned himself to the fact that wading through the rivers of filthy water flooding the roads was unavoidable. Unlike speedsters he saw in movies, he wasn¡¯t capable of running on water. The best he could do was try to find the roads where the water levels were at their lowest, and when that didn¡¯t work, trudge his way across waist-high channels of extremely polluted water.

    It was terrible. He was cold, drenched and weary. In the earlier days of their time at the mansion, Sytris had informed them that now that their powers were restored to full strength they would never have to worry about falling victim to mundane illnesses, but Tim still had a cold, unavoidable feeling that his health was still at risk as he drudged through the murky depths.

    As he made his way through the city he looked around, assessing the damage the storm had wrought. Trees had been uprooted, wires burst, and light posts knocked down. Cars were abandoned in water that rose right up to their windows, and some buildings had lost their roofs. To think that Valarok had caused so much damage just to punish them or trap them sent a hot surge of rage through his body. If they were forced to take part in a vicious, supernatural war simply because of their lineage, fine. He didn¡¯t like it but there was nothing that could be done. But innocent people didn¡¯t deserve to have their lives ruined as a result.

    About fifteen minutes had passed before Tim realized he had no idea where he was going. He couldn¡¯t remember the direction he had come or where the mansion was located.

    It was an extremely difficult feat, trying to navigate his way forward with the place so dark. The raindrops battering against him felt like bullets; every gust of wind threatened to heave him from the waters he was paddling through and into the tempestuous sky. Lauren had been right ¡ª again. There was no way he could fight his way back to the mansion like this. Drenched to the bone, he decided to take a brief reprieve.

    A small, derelict building blossomed from the darkness, whose name he couldn¡¯t make out but which was painted on in fading crimson lettering. He rushed through the deserted parking lot, over the barbed fences and through the front door, which was open.

    A small, disorganized office space greeted him. It looked as if this place had fallen into neglect long before Hurricane Valarok had rolled in. Debris was strewn across the wooden floor, which creaked ominously every time he stepped forward. The hard-backed chairs were covered in a layer of dust, and the desks were coated in mildew. Tim sat down very gingerly upon one of these seats, which gave a dangerous wobble, and exhaled deeply through his nose. He didn¡¯t know how they could get on with this storm. If it didn¡¯t let up soon¡­

    He took off his glasses and rubbed them gently against an old roll of hand towel he found nearby. It wasn¡¯t recommended, but he could barely see with the water on the lenses. It was then that he remembered the advice Sytris had once given him, about trying to locate his siblings using the connection they shared through their weapons.

    In all honesty he hadn¡¯t managed to fully tap into that connection the first time he¡¯d tried to track Jon and Oscar. The best he had gotten was a very faint spark, with even vaguer directions. Him stumbling upon them had been mostly due to chance. But maybe this time¡­

    He had just settled himself in his seat, preparing to ease his mind the same way he had been trying to help Lauren to do for the last two days, when a noise somewhere down the corridor made him start.

    Tim sat bolt upright in his chair. He peered down the corridor, his heart hammering uncomfortably in his chest. The sound of his own fiercely-pumping blood filled his ears. The ever-present rain continued to rage beyond the windows, punctuated by periodic flashes of white light and accompanying explosions of thunder. He rose very slowly from his seat, fixing his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose, then he trekked off down the corridor, keeping his footsteps as light as possible. It was difficult to see; his main light source was the sporadic forks of lightning that curled across the black skyline.

    Deeper into the derelict building he went, glancing warily into every cubicle he passed.

    Probably a rat, he thought. Please be a rat¡­

    At the very end of the row he came to a halt and breathed a sigh of relief that he never heard over the bluster outside. Having seen nothing, he turned to leave ¡ª and then out of nowhere something large and heavy leapt up out of the shadows and barreled into him, pulling at his hair and clawing at his chest. He yelled in complete panic, whirling around furiously as he tried with all his might to dislodge the attacker. He succeeded at last, hurling it into one of the desks across the room. It collided with the dark wood with a whimper, then it scrabbled out of the mess and streaked off down the corridor.

    A furious fight suddenly ensued in Tim¡¯s mind: he stood hesitant for a moment, torn between a powerful curiosity and a vicious instinct to run. The battle lasted all of two seconds and a clear victor emerged.

    He followed, the corridor briefly illuminated by the whirling blue energy encircling his body. When he entered the room his eyes took a moment to adjust to the dimness, then he spotted his attacker. It was a boy of about his own age, cowering in the corner. Or at least it bore some resemblance to a boy. The creature in front of him had reddish brown skin, like the colour of mud, with bright, golden eyes that shone like a cat¡¯s in the dark, and sharp, jagged teeth. He wore nothing but a loincloth that seemed to be woven from dried leaves, and his body was dappled with strange markings, like tribal tattoos. A small part of Tim felt almost sorry for him, until he remembered that the person responsible for the ruthless storm that had destroyed half this city looked even younger and more innocent than he did.

    Stolen novel; please report.

    ¡°What do you want?¡± the boy demanded. He was holding a hand out towards him, still shrinking against the wall as if Tim was brandishing a weapon against him. ¡°I don¡¯t want any trouble, just take what you want and go!¡±

    Now he knew how Jon must have felt seeing the doctor. It was deeply unsettling, the way his eyes registered what was clearly a monster, yet his ears heard only a scared and desperate child.

    ¡°How old are you?¡± Tim asked.

    The boy bared his teeth. ¡°Why do you care?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ just curious, I guess,¡± Tim said with a shrug. He took a single step forward and the boy retreated even farther into his corner, curling into a fetal position. ¡°I¡¯m not going to hurt you, you know. If anything I¡¯m the one who should be scared of you, you almost gouged my eyes out.¡±

    ¡°Maybe you¡¯ll think twice about sneaking up on people in the future!¡± he spat.

    ¡°I thought this place was deserted,¡± Tim said defensively. ¡°I just wanted some shelter from the storm, I didn¡¯t know anyone else was in here.¡±

    The boy¡¯s eyes were still tense, but his shoulders seemed to relax ever so slightly.

    ¡°I take it you were doing the same?¡±

    The boy nodded. ¡°I was waiting for a message, but this storm is disrupting the magic in the city. It¡¯s hard to sense what¡¯s going on outside.¡±

    ¡°So the storm is magical,¡± Tim said, more to himself than his interlocutor. Though he had guessed it was nice to have actual confirmation.

    The boy scoffed. ¡°You mean you couldn¡¯t tell? Makes sense if you couldn¡¯t even sense me. Some god you are.¡±

    ¡°Hold on,¡± said Tim, taken aback. ¡°You know what I am?¡±

    ¡°Please. Storm or no storm I could smell you a mile away. You have an aura. It¡¯s pungent. Raw. Like rotting flesh. And there¡¯s a lot of it around too.¡±

    ¡°A lot of¡­¡± Tim¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°You mean like other gods? More of them?¡±

    ¡°Too many if you ask me,¡± he said viciously, but Tim didn¡¯t care. His heart lifted, higher than the floodwaters engulfing half the city. He was about to ask whether the boy, whatever his name was, could point him in the direction of that pungent aroma, but then another distinct rumbling noise crossed the air. It was so loud that they had no trouble hearing it over the roar of the storm beyond the walls, and it came from down the hall.

    Both Tim and his mysterious guest whipped their heads around and stared into the dark, gloomy hall.

    ¡°Can you tell what made that noise?¡±

    ¡°I might have an idea,¡± the boy said, his voice quivering. ¡°But the storm is interfering with my senses. I could smell you because the magic around you is so strong, but less powerful creatures are harder to detect.¡±

    ¡°Stay here, I¡¯ll check it out.¡±

    ¡°Are you insane?¡± the boy said incredulously, reminding him forcefully of his earlier interaction with Lauren.

    Before Tim could respond the thing in the shadows let out another earth-shaking rumble. Then without any warning, one of the desks in the cubicles beyond was wrenched out of its port and came hurtling towards them. They ducked just as the table exploded in a shower of rotted wood behind them. Tim scrabbled to his feet and gazed down the hall, just in time to see three huge worm-like creatures slithering down the hall. Each was as thick as a tree trunk, with huge, gaping maws encircled by razor sharp teeth and small, beady red eyes.

    Beside him the boy leapt to his feet, screaming in terror. Tim grabbed hold of his arm, stifling a sudden, unbidden surge of revulsion at how slimy his skin felt, and streaked off down the other end of the corridor. Tim could hear him yelling incoherently beside him as he raced the length of the hallway, through the door at the end, down the rickety staircase, and into the parking lot outside.

    ¡°Wawasat?¡± the boy garbled.

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    The other boy shook his head violently, then said, ¡°What was that? How did you ¡ª we were just inside ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh. Uh ¡ª well, you could tell I was a god, right? I¡¯m the God of Speed, actually. Moving fast is kind of in the job description.¡±

    A confused look dawned in the golden eyes. ¡°God of Speed? I¡¯ve never heard of one of those before.¡±

    Tim¡¯s eyebrows drew together. ¡°Really? Never?¡±

    ¡°Never,¡± he said, shaking his head vigorously. ¡°In my culture, history is passed down through word of mouth. There are stories about everything. And I¡¯ve done a lot of research on the surface world too. I¡¯ve read about gods of earth, gods of night, of water, even formless concepts like love and war. Never once have I seen any mention of a God of Speed.¡±

    Tim gaped at him, wondering how true his statement was. Was he really the first of his kind, or were the others simply so obscure they had never made it into the history books?

    ¡°Thanks for saving me, by the way,¡± the boy said, jolting him back to the present conversation. ¡°You didn¡¯t have to, but you did¡­ So, thank you.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome, um¡­¡±

    ¡°Akna. That was the name my parents gave to me.¡±

    ¡°Nice to meet you, Akna. My name¡¯s Tim.¡±

    Akna cocked his head to the side. ¡°That¡¯s a very odd name for a god.¡±

    ¡°That was the name my mortal parents gave to me. It¡¯s a very long story,¡± he added, as the look of confusion on his face deepened. ¡°My birth name is Lenos. But I prefer Tim. It¡¯s simple. I like simple.¡±

    ¡°Nice to meet you as well, Tim. But I don¡¯t think you brought us far enough.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Those were sandcrawlers. Large, aggressive, and extremely fast. They also have excellent senses of smell too.¡± Akna pointed behind them.

    To Tim¡¯s horror, he saw something coming towards them, burrowing under the earth.

    ¡°And they move even faster underground. Impressive that they managed to track me here, even with the storm.¡±

    ¡°Wait, they¡¯re after you?¡± said Tim, who had wholeheartedly believed he was the result of this sudden peril.

    Akna nodded. ¡°Sandcrawlers were one of the main reasons my family had to flee our home. We¡¯ve been traveling for years and we ended up taking refuge here, but then the storm blew in and we were separated. The response I was waiting for was from them. But the sandcrawlers found me first.¡±

    The way he spoke was deadpan, resigned, as if he already knew and accepted his fate. Tim couldn¡¯t accept that. He wouldn¡¯t accept that.

    ¡°Do you have a weapon?¡± he asked urgently.

    ¡°You¡¯re mad,¡± said Akna, but at the same time his hand moved up to a sheath at his waist and he withdrew a large dagger that seemed to be made from bone. ¡°You don¡¯t actually intend to fight them?¡±

    ¡°If they tracked you all the way into the city in this storm, then running isn¡¯t going to help, is it?¡± Tim pulled off his glasses. The scene in front of him immediately became blurred and fuzzy. He could make out the basic outlines of what was ahead of him, but the details eluded him. Why on earth Sytris chose to make the one thing vital for his daily activities his choice of weapon would never make sense to him.

    ¡°Lenos,¡± he said loudly and clearly. Red light shone through the parking lot. A second later his great hammer materialized in his hand.

    ¡°What is that?¡± Akna said, gaping at it.

    ¡°It¡¯s called Brightsteel. And you¡¯re about to see what it can do.¡±

    The sandcrawlers had arrived, erupting from the parking lot floor as easily as one would surface from a swimming pool. It was more difficult to make out the features of their faces now, but the noises they were making still sent chills down his spine. They were like a horrible amalgamation of crickets, cicadas and snakes.

    ¡°I hope you know how to use that,¡± Tim said, indicating Akna¡¯s knife.

    ¡°About as well as you know how to use that hammer.¡±

    Tim grinned. ¡°So no clue then?¡±

    With an awful, ear-grating shriek, the first Sandcrawler came forward. Its speed was unbelievable for a monster of its size, and Tim, who sped away from the scene just in time, saw that its strength was almost as fearsome as it smashed itself into the ground, leaving behind a massive crater. It didn¡¯t stop moving: its entire body disappeared into the hole, then it resurfaced a few feet to his left. There was something oozing from its maw now, a dark viscous liquid.

    ¡°Acid!¡± Akna¡¯s voice yelled out. ¡°Don¡¯t let it hit you!¡±

    The sandcrawler fired a jet of that same dark liquid at him. Again Tim bolted out of the way, coming to a halt behind the Sandcrawler. The vat of acid that had flown at him collided with the wall; there was a loud sizzling noise, and in mere moments a hole large enough to hold several people had melted into the stone. There was a cry of pain somewhere to to his right and he wheeled around to see Akna desperately dodging great dollops of acid from another of the creatures.

    Just as he took off to help, a terrible realization struck Tim like a physical blow. Between the one he had just narrowly dodged, and the one that Akna was frantically trying to evade, only two of the three sandcrawlers were accounted for.

    Panic flaring through him, he jerked his head wildly around in search of the third. There was no sign of it, but another great cavern lay in front of them. It¡¯s underground.

    The second crawler took advantage of his preoccupation, slithering towards him like a slimy bullet train. Tim sidestepped it once more, but the creature seemed to have prepared for that. The instant he ducked out of the way, it lashed out with its lower half, smacking him into the wall with a loud thud. Tim fell face-first onto the cold, damp earth, then the sandcrawler lunged at him like a snake rearing from long grass. He tried to dodge again but it was in vain. The creature was upon him before he could recover from the impact, thrusting him further into the wall before clamping its jaws around his right arm.

    He felt the serrated fangs pierce his skin, bringing with it the pain of a thousand needles. A cloud of the monster¡¯s putrid breath wafted into his face, so acrid that his eyes began to water.

    Tim pummeled at its slimy, rubbery face with his free left hand, trying to free himself. With one sharp, well-aimed punch, he managed to land a blow directly in the creature¡¯s eye. It recoiled with a hiss of anguish, thrashing around furiously.

    Tim looked down and, vision still blurry, saw that his right arm was bloody and mangled.

    The sandcrawler was still lashing out in fury. Tim¡¯s hammer, which had fallen from his grip moments before, was lying a few feet away. He jumped and turned his landing into a roll just as the crawler lurched forward again, smashing its head into the wall where he had just been standing. As it doubled back for another attack, Tim scooped the hammer into his left hand and swung it as fast and as hard as he could, right into its face.

    There was a deafening crack and its huge body soared sideways. It landed with a heavy crash, rattling the floor as it collapsed. Fragments of its broken fangs spilled from its mouth, from which more ooze was leaking. It moved no more.

    Tim turned and saw Akna, slicing and stabbing at the face of his own sandcrawler. The blade seemed to be glancing harmlessly off its skin, accomplishing nothing except perhaps making it even angrier.

    It opened its mouth wide and Tim, who could tell what was coming next, bolted towards him, heaving him out of the danger zone just as a fountain of acid dissolved the floor where Akna had been standing. He didn¡¯t drag him away from the creature though; struck by a sudden idea, Tim moved closer to where it stood and with all the strength he could muster, launched Akna upwards so that he landed on its head.

    ¡°Aim for the eye!¡± he yelled.

    Akna¡¯s disorientation lasted only a few seconds. Holding on for dear life, he edged his way down to the creature¡¯s face as the sandcrawler, incensed, tried to throw him off. It was over in a few breathless seconds. Akna lost his footing and stumbled, but reoriented himself just in time to jab the dagger right into the creature¡¯s exposed eye, which exploded in white slime. Just like its brother, it writhed in pure agony, finally succeeding in tossing Akna to the ground.

    It was Tim¡¯s turn to mount it. Crackling with blue energy, he raced right up to it and leapt onto its crown, bringing his hammer firmly down on top of its head. The impact thrust its head so fiercely into the ground that the parking lot quivered once more, but like its ally, it fell immobile.

    But they had no time to celebrate their victory. Down below the earth was rumbling again, and like some kind of monstrous drill the third sandcrawler bore its way to the surface.

    Tim never noticed before, but this one was much larger than the other two, and boasted a set of adornments that they did not. Its body was much sleeker, with two rows of golden spikes trailing down its length. A set of ornate golden horns extended from its head, intricately twisting together to form some kind of crown, and its eyes glowed bright, poisonous green. It looked less wormlike than the other two, more like a vast, wingless dragon, terrible yet regal.

    ¡°A King Crawler,¡± Akna said, and there was no fear in his voice now. He sounded awed. ¡°I¡¯ve heard of them, but I¡¯ve never seen one before.¡±

    The King was much faster than its allies, so much so that even at his top speed Tim only barely reached Akna in time to stop him from being flattened. He had dive-tackled Akna out of the line of fire, but before they could even stand up it was upon them again, its spiked tail swinging down upon them like a canary-coloured wrecking ball. Again Tim tried to flee but he was nowhere near fast enough. The tail grazed his shoulder, but that wasn¡¯t all: small spikes had broken off of the tail, embedding themselves in his arm, leaving the skin where they had made contact inflamed.

    ¡°I think this one¡¯s going to be a problem,¡± Tim said, yanking the spikes out.

    ¡°He¡¯s a king for a reason,¡± Akna said, still looking at the monster with something close to reverence. ¡°Distract it, I¡¯m going to try something.¡±

    Distracting it proved itself to be a tall order. The King was so fast that Tim was having difficulty keeping up. Almost every time it lunged it hit him in some way, snags of the tail, lashes of its spikes, grazes of the fang. Tim could feel himself slowing down, wearing out. If he had to guess, the King had some kind of toxin at his disposal, and every nip he landed injected some portion of it into his bloodstream. Whatever Akna was planning to do, he hoped he did it quickly.

    Its huge, green eyes burned with rage and it flew at him yet again. Tim didn¡¯t try to dodge. He waited in place, then just as the King¡¯s draconic maw was within reach he launched a fierce blow with his hammer. It connected, though this didn¡¯t have the same effect on it as it had with the other two.

    Far from gravely injuring it, the King merely shook off the blow, doubling back with murderous rage shining in his eyes.

    It tried to snap at him, but for some reason it could no longer reach him. Tim backed up several steps, then saw the cause. The ground below the sandcrawler had turned to what looked like a vat of black quicksand, immobilizing it. He turned around and saw Akna, holding both hands out towards the King, whose body was sinking deeper and deeper into the puddle, almost completely paralyzed.

    ¡°How did you do that?¡± Tim asked, gazing up at the crawler in wonder.

    ¡°Nevermind that, it¡¯s not going to hold him for long. Hit him, hard.¡±

    ¡°Right, right.¡± Tim grabbed his hammer and took off, leaping up onto the sections of the King¡¯s body that were still exposed, making his way up to its head. Its eyes followed his every movement, but it had sunk so deep now that it could barely turn its head. ¡°Sorry about this, Your Highness.¡± He twirled the hammer between his fingers, then he brought it down as hard as he could.

    The King¡¯s crown shattered; fragments of gold clattered onto the pavement as its entire body was submerged into the dark pit with a roar of mingled rage and distress. Tim leapt off its head just in time, landing beside a particularly large shard. He picked it up and examined it.

    ¡°Pretty cool souvenir.¡±

    Akna finally released his pose, then looked up at him, breathing hard but smiling. ¡°Good work.¡±

    ¡°Likewise. Is it dead?¡±

    ¡°Most likely not. The Kings are a lot harder to kill than the ordinary sandcrawlers. But this should weaken him.¡±

    ¡°Figures. How¡¯d you do that, by the way?¡±

    ¡°My people are called the Children of Gaia, the Earth Mother. With her blessing, we have some power over her domain. It¡¯s why we live mostly underground or in caves, where our connection to her is strongest. The sandcrawlers are not the only threats we face, but they are among the worst. Thank you for your assistance.¡± He held out his hand. Tim took it in his own and smiled.

    ¡°And I suppose now is as good a time as any to return the favour. When you asked earlier if I could sense other gods in the area ¡ª were you referring to friends of yours?¡±

    ¡°Family actually. My siblings.¡±

    ¡°Well, I will still have to wait for a response from my own kin. But I see no reason for you not to be reunited with your own. The auras I detected, they¡¯re due north. Not very far from here, in fact.¡±

    A feeling of intense relief swept through him. Before Tim could even speak, however, he noticed something. The rain was easing up. Amazed, he walked to the edge of the parking lot. The downpour steadily slowed to a drizzle, then halted completely. Before his very eyes the dense canopy of black clouds parted and the first rays of sunshine the city had seen in days broke through.

    ¡°It finally stopped,¡± Tim said, smiling even more widely.

    ¡°Then I suppose this is where we part ways,¡± said Akna, who had come to join him. Tim turned to look at him. ¡°I do hope you find your family.¡±

    ¡°Me too.¡±

    ¡°Then I bid you farewell, Tim. I suppose now I have a story of my own to pass down. The tale of how I met the first God of Speed. Or perhaps, if not the first, then the first that history shall remember.¡±

    Tim grinned and they shook hands again. Then he took off, streaking through the ruined city like a bullet. He was determined to get back to Lauren as quickly as possible. If the storm had stopped, there was a chance the others might start moving again. With so many of the roads blocked it took him nearly an hour to get back to the mansion, and when he did he found Lauren pacing back and forth gain, biting her fingernail.

    ¡°There you are, I¡¯ve been waiting for ¡ª oh my God! What happened to you?¡± She looked horrified as she finally took in his appearance: arm still bloody but slowly healing, face bruised and clothing torn and coated in monster blood.

    ¡°I¡¯ll explain later. I¡¯ve got news: the storm finally stopped and I think I know where everyone else is. Well, more like a vague sense of direction. But we have to go now, before they start moving again.¡± He saw the somber expression on Lauren¡¯s face and his own smile faltered. ¡°This is good news. I thought you¡¯d be happy.¡±

    ¡°It''s not that. While you were gone, I managed to get a breakthrough,¡± Lauren said, her voice quivering. ¡°I saw a recent memory, of Sytris¡¯s.¡±

    ¡°O-okay,¡± Tim said, still confused. ¡°That¡¯s good right? That means he¡¯s okay.¡±

    Lauren took a deep, shaky breath. ¡°No, it isn¡¯t good. Because the memory ended¡­ It ended¡­¡± A single tear rolled from Lauren¡¯s eye. ¡°It ended with Erymithia taking his head off with her scythe.¡±

 Chapter 20: Remembrances

    Haley was sore. She was also cold, drenched, and weary, but the soreness stood out more than anything else. Every inch of her body ached with a sharp, searing pain. She realized that she was lying on her belly and tried to roll over, then a sudden explosion of pain radiated through her shoulder and she let out a sharp gasp. Her confusion lasted for only a second, then, as if she was watching a sped-up film, the memory came rushing back: Valarok, the proclaimed eldest brother of the Harbinger trio, had stabbed her. The blade he¡¯d used was pure black, dappled with tiny glittering dots. It was like he had had torn off a piece of the night sky and fashioned it into a sword, sprinkled with stars.

    Haley fought through the pain and tried to sit up, but whatever she was lying on gave a wild and abrupt lurch and she jerked sideways, cascading over the edge with a scream.

    All at once the fog that had settled over her brain disappeared and she realized what was happening. She was perched precariously on Skylar¡¯s back, hanging what looked like hundreds of feet above the ground as the ventus cantered through the dark and thundery night. The only thing keeping her from tumbling off into the blustering abyss below was a strong arm clutching onto her shoulder, heaving her back into place.

    She flicked her sodden bangs out of her face and peered up into a pale face she recognized as Oscar¡¯s. There was a bloody gash on his cheek and one of his eyes was black and puffy, but he was smiling.

    ¡°You¡¯re awake!¡±

    ¡°What is going on?¡± she demanded. ¡°Where¡­¡± She looked around and noticed something for the first time. ¡°Where are Tim and Lauren?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re not with us,¡± said Oscar.

    ¡°What?¡±

    A bolt of lightning ripped across the sky, briefly illuminating the scene, followed by a deafening blast of thunder that made Haley jump.

    ¡°Woah! Might want to hold on a little more tightly, if you go tumbling off we might not be able to catch you again.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± she said impatiently. ¡°What¡¯s going on? Where¡¯s everyone else?¡±

    ¡°Tim took Lauren and ran off,¡± yelled Jonathan from the front. He was holding desperately onto the reins, and for the first time Haley noticed a ball of pure white light hovering around his head, like a miniature sun orbiting them. It was so bright it was almost harsh to look at, but its light was barely enough to pierce the darkness around them. ¡°He told us to run, then he just left.¡±

    ¡°And you let him go?¡± Haley¡¯s surge of incredulity was so overpowering that for a moment she completely forgot the pain shooting all through her body.

    ¡°Of course not! We tried to take them with us but we couldn¡¯t reach them, and he just took off, the idiot! We¡¯ve been trying to find them but it¡¯s no use, we can¡¯t see anything up here!¡±

    ¡°If it helps, I have complete faith in Tim. If he says they¡¯ll be fine, then I believe him,¡± Oscar said reassuringly.

    ¡°No it doesn¡¯t help,¡± Jon snapped. ¡°It was a stupid idea. What was he thinking?¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter,¡± Haley chimed in. ¡°We can¡¯t leave them out here like this. We¡¯re going to keep looking for them¡­ Right?¡± she added, with a slight measure of uncertainty.

    ¡°Of course we are. We¡¯re not leaving them behind.¡±

    Haley had had her issues with Jon¡¯s general demeanour during the course of their stay, but she had guessed that beneath the cool, sarcastic exterior, there was a compassionate heart. She was pleased to see she was right.

    Jon was gripping the reins tightly, gazing down below as if determined to spot Tim¡¯s figure streaking along underneath the canopy of black clouds. With every turn of his head the ball of light followed, shining in the direction he was looking. Haley tried to adjust her position and the pain in her arm brought her down again; once more Oscar¡¯s arms shot out, holding her steady.

    ¡°You are still injured,¡± he said sternly. ¡°You need to take it easy. Let us handle the search.¡±

    She wanted to protest, but the discomfort radiating through her body silenced her. Haley settled for a curt nod and gently massaged her shoulder, which was still red-raw. For several minutes they rode through the blustery sky, trying and failing to ignore the freezing rains and winds trying to unseat them. Cold showers at nighttime were one thing, but riding through a literal hurricane in the slim hope of finding their siblings while suffering from a magical injury was a whole different beast.

    She was just wondering where Tim and Lauren could possibly be by this point when she paused, staring into the clouds to their right. She could have sworn she had caught a flicker of movement somewhere in that area, but after staring intensely at the same spot for nearly ten seconds and seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she managed to convince herself that it had been nothing.

    Just as she tried to settle herself again lightning tore through the sky and Haley let out a scream.

    ¡°What? What is it?¡± Oscar shouted.

    A grotesque face had appeared in the darkness beyond them, with blood red eyes and a crude, sneering smile. She recognized it at once, mostly due to the vivid picture Lauren had painted them: it was a gargoyle, fluttering along in the storm and wearing a vile smirk. Haley pointed, feeling another spasm of agony clip through her hand.

    Both Jon and Oscar whipped their heads around to find the gargoyle gliding serenely along beside them, completely unbothered by the hurricane. But that wasn¡¯t all: behind it, a bird the size of a crane was sailing effortlessly through the storm winds. It had bright feathers that glinted like ingots of gold in the moonlight. Its beak, however, was large and bronze, perfectly illuminated by another streak of lightning. Its eyes were fixed right on them and it changed direction at once, its great, metallic wings cutting through the rain as it veered towards them.

    Several other birds of similar size and appearance were rising out of the darkness below, along with a party of gargoyles, encircling them like a pack of wolves.

    ¡°They¡¯re like the Stymphalian birds from the myths,¡± said Oscar. Surprisingly enough, it was this more than anything that shocked Haley the most. Both she and Jon turned to stare at him, nonplussed.

    ¡°What?¡± he said, with a defensive shrug. ¡°I read.¡±

    The first bird Haley had seen dived sharply, shooting at them with the speed of a fighter jet. With every flap of its wings a sharp scraping noise rent the air, like knife blades grating against each other. Jon whipped the reins, sending Skylar galloping downwards out of the line of fire just as the bird zipped overhead. All at once the other birds followed suit, swooping down upon them.

    The creatures were gaining, converging upon them like ants on an abandoned meal. Then they pounced. At the same time Jon jerked the reins upwards and Skylar launched herself back into the night sky, smoothly slipping out of their attack.

    They could hear the birds screeching in fury down below; the sound was like a number of old, rusted gates creaking open. They were faster than they appeared at first glance. Within seconds the birds had closed the distance, swooping on them yet again as they tried to peck at every inch of exposed flesh. Trying to dodge was agony, but Haley was pretty sure that whatever she was feeling now would be nothing compared to if those birds actually made contact.

    She managed to evade the beak of yet another incoming target, but as she pulled back its feathers raked across her face.

    ¡°Ouch!¡± she yelled, clapping a hand to her cheek. She pulled her hand away and saw dribbles of blood on her palm, already being washed away by the heavy rains. A spasm of horror ran through her body. A simple graze had caused so much damage?

    With one hand still clutching rigidly onto the reins, Jon was sending out large bursts of orange light with the other. Some missed, streaking through the air like emergency flares before dying out in the storm. Others, however, connected, knocking the birds sharply out of the air and in some cases actually setting them ablaze. It seemed that the angrier Jon got the hotter the orbs of light burned.

    Oscar, meanwhile, had transformed his amethyst necklace into a gauntlet that spanned from the tips of his fingers to the base of his elbow. He was swatting the gargoyles away with swipes of the long, golden claws that extended from the gauntlet¡¯s knuckles, but one of the creatures got close enough for Oscar to actually land a punch.

    A small but distinct shockwave erupted on impact and the stone-like creature exploded into a cloud of dust that quickly trailed away in the turbulent winds, leaving nothing behind but a faint trace of yellow on the air where its glowing, butterscotch-coloured eyes had widened in mingled pain and surprise. Haley blinked and it had disappeared. Once, a few days into their time at the mansion, Oscar had explained how his gauntlet worked when Haley had revealed her fans. According to him it absorbed and stored kinetic energy, and when he landed a hit it released it all at once, resulting in devastating bursts of raw destructive power.

    The other gargoyles began to make angry chittering noises, rustling their wings. If Haley had to guess they were incensed at the loss of their comrade, but they were holding back now, clearly wary of Oscar¡¯s gauntlet.

    ¡°More incoming!¡± Jon shouted, signaling yet another flock of the Stymphalian birds.

    He took aim and fired a barrage of blasts at the incoming targets, but the birds were clearly more efficient in the air than the gargoyles.

    Though Jon succeeded in striking one or two of them, the others gracefully wove around every blast he threw. If the birds weren¡¯t actively trying to kill them, Haley would have been in awe at the elegance of their movements.

    One of the birds zipped past, so fast that it actually succeeded in digging its talons into Jon¡¯s chest, where a spurt of blood erupted.

    ¡°Gah!¡± He clutched desperately at his chest as the bird changed direction, zooming at them yet again. With his other hand he yanked the reins to the left and Skylar followed, cantering out of the way just as the monster darted past. But Haley could already see it doubling back, now accompanied by several of its peers. The birds all seemed to have their attention focused on Jon, so Haley seized her chance while they were distracted.

    ¡°Iduna,¡± she chanted, and her bangle melted into her twin, flower-patterned fans. With her right arm injured she could only toss a single fan with her left, but if her lessons with Sytris were any indicator one was all she needed. She partially unfurled it, took aim, and let it fly like a frisbee. It unsheathed itself fully in midair with a metallic rasping noise not unlike the ones the birds made and soared through the sky like a boomerang.

    Predictably the birds swerved out of the way, once again exhibiting the same calm, graceful movements they had used before. The fan disappeared into the clouds below, while the birds continued to close the distance between them.

    Jon raised his arm again, glowing with power, but completely unbeknownst to the bird the fan she had thrown came whizzing back into view. Unaware of the incoming projectile, it was caught off guard as the fan soared right for its wing. It cut through it like a steak knife through butter, spinning like a luminescent saw blade. The bird plummeted out of the air with a screech of agony, its glistening body soon swallowed up by the near-total darkness. Its allies wheeled around, but before they could react the fan had already closed in, slicing this time through the neck of one of the birds and the belly of another. The fan came swirling back towards the ventus and Jon ducked purely out of instinct, letting out a small yelp, but Haley caught it in one swift movement, folding it smoothly in her palm.

    ¡°Woah, you never said your fans could do that,¡± Jon said, looking completely awed.

    ¡°It never came up,¡± Haley said, unable to contain her own smugness.

    The remaining birds and gargoyles around them pulled back, putting distance between themselves and the ventus. Jon, Haley and Oscar watched them, eyes narrowed with suspicion. Then the birds vanished from sight.

    ¡°I think we should find some shelter,¡± Oscar said at once. ¡°Clearly it¡¯s not safe to be traveling through the air in this storm. Both of you are hurt, and I hate to say it but we¡¯re not going to find Tim and Lauren like this.¡±

    Jon looked like he wanted to protest, but to Haley¡¯s immense surprise he nodded. They were both looking at her now, as if expecting her to disagree. She wanted to, but there was no denying Oscar was right.

    ¡°Let¡¯s find somewhere to land.¡±

    <hr>

    It took them quite a while to find shelter. Heeding Oscar¡¯s warnings about staying out of the air, they moved closer to the ground, where destruction loomed all around them. The storm ¡ª which Haley was totally convinced by now had been conjured by one of the Harbingers ¡ª had separated houses from their roofs, submerged vehicles in several feet of water, and blocked off just about every road in sight. It soon became apparent that there was no land remaining for them to land on, so instead they touched down in a patch of forest some ways beyond the city, which was fast becoming a swamp.

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    Haley had been the one to suggest the area; she could tell that the boys were confused, but she didn¡¯t have the energy to waste on an unnecessary explanation. With Oscar¡¯s help she climbed down from Skylar¡¯s back, still being battered by the relentless rain.

    ¡°Whatever you¡¯re planning on doing, you mind speeding the process up a bit? No pressure though,¡± said Jon, his teeth chattering, arms folded tightly around his body.

    Haley closed her eyes and tried to concentrate, but it was hard to do as she was fighting both the immense pain from Valarok¡¯s blade and the unbelievable wave of cold caused by the sudden storm surge. Still, she tried her best to block it out, focusing on the plants around her, the ground beneath her feet. In moments she knew she had succeeded: she felt rather than saw as the ground in front of them shifted. Huge rocks burst from the forest floor like large, misshapen stalagmites to form a vast cave, which was about as large as the mansion¡¯s living room.

    ¡°Wow,¡± Jon breathed.

    ¡°Agreed. But how about we admire it from the inside,¡± Oscar said pointedly. They hurried inside, followed at once by Skylar. Once they were inside Jon actually let out a deep sigh of relief, safe at last from the raging weather.

    Moments after entering the small ball of light Jon had conjured floated up to the top of the ceiling and brightened, illuminating the entire region.

    Finally free of the rain, Haley fell back against the wall and slid down, and Oscar and Jon joined her, their distraught faces perfectly framed in the brilliant light. Skylar knelt down in their midst, her head resting on Jon¡¯s knees as he gently stroked her head. She let out a nicker of contentment.

    ¡°So, does anyone want to break the silence on the steaming pile of horse manure we landed ourselves in?¡± Oscar asked.

    ¡°Which part exactly?¡± said Jon. ¡°The part where the Harbingers showed up at our house unannounced, the part where our parents are trapped in a magical pocket dimension, or the one where our siblings are lost in a supernatural storm that wrecked half the city?¡±

    Oscar shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not very choosey, take your pick.¡±

    ¡°How did they even find us?¡± Haley said, more out of anger than curiosity. ¡°I thought Sytris said the mansion was concealed under a dozen protection spells?¡±

    ¡°They tracked us somehow. Using some kind of magical artifact,¡± Jon said. ¡°I heard the kid ¡ª the oldest brother I mean (which is still weird, by the way) ¡ª talking about some kind of nexus. It¡¯s obvious they think we have it.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s ridiculous! They have no way to even verify that. They probably just assumed that we have it.¡±

    Oscar remained quiet, but there was a kind of contemplative look on Jon¡¯s face that made Haley curious.

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing.¡±

    ¡°Obviously not. Spill it.¡±

    ¡°Forget about it. It¡¯s stupid.¡±

    ¡°Jon¡­¡±

    A menacing rumble tore through the ground, punctuating Haley¡¯s comment.

    ¡°Well I was just thinking,¡± Jon said hastily, with a nervous glance at the damp floor. ¡°I didn¡¯t think much of it at first, but did you see the way Erymithia looked at Sytris when he showed up? It was weird, like they¡¯ve got some history. I mean it could have been nothing but¡­ You know, I always thought he was shady. He was less like a guardian and more like a prison warden.¡±

    Both Oscar and Haley remained silent, Haley deep in thought, Oscar looking blank.

    ¡°Regardless, I think he truly believed that he had our best interests at heart,¡± Haley said quietly. ¡°Even if we disagreed on the ¡®how¡¯ of it, we all wanted the same things right? To keep us safe.¡±

    A small frown creased Jonathan¡¯s forehead. He looked like he wanted to say something but seemed to think better of it. A moment later, however, he seemed have reached the decision to speak his mind anyway. ¡°Are you talking about Sytris or your dad?¡±

    Haley had a physical reaction somewhere between a gasp and a cough. She stared incredulously at Jon, her fingernails digging harshly into the skin of her knees, but as painful as it was she didn¡¯t remove her hand. Neither Jon nor Haley spoke, but Oscar¡¯s eyes were swiveling from one to the other as though following a ball at a tennis match. After a few seconds however, Haley¡¯s shoulders sagged. All the fire burning within her suddenly disappeared, as if it had been sucked inside some great vacuum in the pit of her stomach.

    ¡°You know what the sad part is? I don¡¯t even know.¡± Her eyes were stinging, but not from the cold or the pain in her arm. She wiped her eyes impatiently and sniffled, then said, ¡°Maybe both? I know what you guys must think of my dad, but he wasn¡¯t always like that. He was kind, helpful, affectionate¡­ fun.¡±

    ¡°So what happened?¡± Oscar asked.

    ¡°I have no idea,¡± Haley said truthfully. ¡°Growing up, for the longest time everything was great ¡ª and then suddenly it wasn¡¯t. My dad would take us to the movies, to amusement parks, we even went camping pretty often. He let me stay up late, we had family game nights, and half the time our dinner was ice-cream and pizza, even though it drove my mom nuts. He even taught me how to paint. Believe it or not, I¡¯d have more fun painting with him than doing anything else.

    ¡°My mom would be furious when it was all over though,¡± she continued, a small trace of a laugh in her voice now. ¡°We¡¯d ¡®accidentally¡¯ smudge paint on each other, until it turned into full blown paint wars. Laundry day was a nightmare.

    ¡°But then it all stopped. As a matter of fact, I think I remember exactly when it all changed. I was about six and we¡¯d just got home from the market, and my dad went in with some of the bags while I stayed behind to help my mom with the rest. I was following her inside but then something caught my attention: something moving in the trees. I thought it was a dog at first, since we had a lot of strays in the neighbourhood, but something about it felt different. I was actually going to go into the bushes to see what it was ¡ª don¡¯t ask me why, I don¡¯t even know why ¡ª but then my Dad came out. He yelled at me and my mom to get inside and she swept me up and kind of teleported inside. It was crazy, the only time I¡¯ve ever seen her move that fast was during the Black Friday flash sales.

    ¡°Dad was gone for about half an hour, and when he came back there was¡­ there were green splatters on his shirt¡­ Oh my God.¡± She looked up at her brothers and saw that they had the same look of realization on their faces. ¡°We moved a few weeks after that, but even before we left my dad was a lot more tense and reserved. We stopped going out, we stopped painting together, and he was really jumpy all of a sudden.

    ¡°I never understood it until now, but that thing in the bushes had to have been a monster. Right there, in our front yard.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like it,¡± said Jon. ¡°From what I gather, he realized that he was too complacent and he had to become more serious to make sure it didn''t happen again.¡±

    ¡°I hated him for so long after that happened. Uprooting our whole lives, forcing me to leave the school I loved and the friends I¡¯d made. And I never once realized that he was doing it to protect me. And now¡­ I can¡¯t even tell him I understand why he did it, or to thank him¡­¡± Her eyes were stinging again; she could feel the tears springing forward, but there was nothing she could do to stop them.

    She dissolved into tears. Jon looked at a complete loss for words, but Oscar closed the distance between them and placed an arm around her shoulder, pulling her in.

    It was nothing like the kind of comforting, strong-armed embrace her father used to provide, but in that moment it was enough. Several minutes had passed before she was able to stop crying, and when she finally regained control of herself she looked up to see Jon still looking rather awkward.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± he said, his eyes fixed on the ground. ¡°I¡¯m not good at the public affection thing.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Haley said, wiping her face. ¡°I¡¯m okay now.¡± She gazed out into the dark and stormy night. ¡°I can¡¯t believe Tim and Lauren are stuck somewhere in that mess. It¡¯s not fair.¡±

    ¡°No it¡¯s not.¡± Jon heaved a deep sigh, but then, with an obvious measure of reluctance, he said, ¡°But I think Oscar¡¯s right. We should have faith that they¡¯ll be all right.¡±

    ¡°See, that¡¯s the spirit,¡± Oscar said cheerfully. ¡°¡¯Don¡¯t worry, they¡¯ll be fine and we¡¯ll find them soon enough. Or who knows, maybe they¡¯ll find us.¡±

    ¡°But what about our parents? And Sytris?¡± Haley asked.

    ¡°I have complete faith that they¡¯ll be fine too,¡± he said in the same breezy tone.

    ¡°Are you just saying that so we¡¯ll stop worrying?¡±

    ¡°Well yes,¡± Oscar said shamelessly. ¡°But I also believe it. Now, how about we get some shut-eye? We can try looking for them again tomorrow.¡±

    <hr>

    Haley found herself chasing sleep for several hours that night. She kept her eyes firmly closed, tossing and turning restlessly for hours on end, but after a time she had to concede defeat. Between the rain hammering against the cave roof, the deafening booms of thunder, and Oscar¡¯s elephantine snoring, there was no way she was going to fall asleep tonight. With a sigh she sat up, noticing that the little ball of light that had floated up to the ceiling had disappeared. It seemed obvious at first: Jon most likely wouldn¡¯t have been able to sustain it since he had fallen asleep. Or so she thought.

    She realized she was wrong when she noticed Jon¡¯s figure sitting at the narrow mouth of the cave, tossing a pebble into the air and catching it in his palm.

    ¡°Can¡¯t sleep either?¡± he said without turning around.

    Haley tucked her hair behind her head and crossed the mulchy floor, came to a halt just beside him and joined him in the act of staring out into the bleak sky.

    ¡°It¡¯s a miracle he can sleep through this at all,¡± she said, jerking her head at Oscar, who was lying spread-eagled with a faint line of drool tracing from his lips. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be able to though. Too much going on. You?¡±

    ¡°I thought one of us should keep watch.¡±

    ¡°And you volunteered without discussing it with us first? There¡¯s that Whitmore selflessness we¡¯ve all heard so much about.¡± Haley grinned at him but Jon didn¡¯t react. Her smile faded; she knew what was bothering him because it was bothering her too.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure Mr. Whitmore is fine,¡± she said. ¡°Unless the Harbingers miraculously know where the mirror in Sytris¡¯s room leads to, they¡¯re in a much better position than any of us.¡±

    ¡°And what if they do know?¡± Jon¡¯s voice wasn¡¯t even worried, it was hollow, empty, as if he had already resigned himself to the worst.

    ¡°They might,¡± Haley admitted. ¡°Nothing¡¯s impossible. But they might not. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going to happen, but the Harbingers were more interested in us than them, they probably won¡¯t even spare a second thought at them. I believe they¡¯re safe.¡±

    ¡°And if they¡¯re not?¡± he asked, and there was a slight quiver in his voice now. He turned to look at her, and at that precise moment a flash of lightning briefly illuminated the entrance of the cave, gleaming on a lone tear that sparkled in his eye. ¡°You, Oscar, Tim, Lauren ¡ª all of your families are fully intact. My Dad is all I have left. If something happens to him too¡­¡±

    His lip quivered but he didn¡¯t burst into tears, although it seemed to be taking all his willpower not to. Haley looped her arms around him and laid her head against his shoulder. He didn¡¯t push her off, but simply sat there, shaking with silent sobs.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ll ever see him again,¡± he said. ¡°And I never even told him¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Haley said soothingly. ¡°I think he knows. Of course he knows. You¡¯ll see him again, just like I believe I¡¯ll see my dad again too. And for the record, whatever happens going forward, even if he was all you had before that¡¯s not how it is now.¡±

    He looked up at her and gave her a feeble, watery smile, then placed his hand on top of hers and squeezed gently. They remained like that for a few moments, listening to the rain and thunder. Jon settled at last, sitting up now.

    ¡°You know, you really don¡¯t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders anymore. I think that¡¯s what Sytris wanted when he brought us all back together. For us to realize that we¡¯re not alone anymore.¡±

    Jon exhaled deeply, then nodded, wiping his eyes.

    ¡°Can I ask you a question?¡± she said.

    ¡°Depends.¡± He gave her another melancholy smile.

    She didn¡¯t want to ruin the moment but she was genuinely curious. It was a shot in the dark, but she took it anyway. ¡°What was your mom like?¡±

    Jon didn¡¯t answer for so long that she realized she had made a terrible mistake. ¡°Nevermind, that was stupid to ask. I¡¯m sorry ¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that,¡± Jon said, his voice so low and unfocused that it sounded like he was in some kind of trance. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ I spent so many years trying not to think about the bad, that I guess I forgot about the good parts too. She was really nice. Always patient, understanding, never got upset. Well, except for that one time when my parents found out I traded my ring for an action figure. I mean, I understand now why she reacted like that, but even then it never bothered me.

    ¡°I guess everybody says this about their mom, but she really was the best mom in the world.¡±

    Haley realized that she was smiling ear-to-ear now. She had never heard Jon speak with so much fondness in his voice before. It was like a breath of fresh air.

    ¡°Horrible cook though,¡± Jon said bluntly, and her smile slipped slightly. ¡°I remember once when my dad was trying to impress his boss because a promotion was on the table. Dad wanted to get takeout, but she insisted on doing a home-cooked meal. She thought takeout would send a bad message. Dinner was two hours late that nigt and when she finally took it out of the oven, it was dreadful.¡± He was laughing now, his eyes bright.

    ¡°The smoke detectors went off, and I think my dad¡¯s boss almost fainted from the smell of the meatloaf alone. My dad¡¯s chances were in the gutter by now but we couldn¡¯t stop laughing. Mom was furious with us.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯d she do?¡± Haley asked, the corners of her lips twitching as she struggled to contain herself.

    ¡°She banned takeout and cooked us dinner for the rest of the week,¡± Jon said, and the two of them exploded in gales of laughter. ¡°My Dad and I had to smuggle in any form of pastries and junk food we could find just to survive. But then she found them, and she ate our entire stash right in front of us.¡±

    Haley giggled, then she glanced at him and smiled at the tender look on his face.

    ¡°She sounds like a great woman.¡±

    ¡°She was,¡± he said simply. He was still smiling but his eyes looked distant, as if he was no longer seeing the storm unfolding in front of them at all.

    Haley was about to speak again, but she paused abruptly, whipping her head around.

    ¡°Did you hear that?¡±

    ¡°Hear what?¡± asked Jon, snapping out of his reverie.

    ¡°It ¡ª it sounded like something was clopping around outside.¡±

    ¡°Clopping? You¡­ you mean like a goat?¡± Jon was frowning now, clearly deeply confused. Haley shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s probably nothing, I¡¯ve been hearing all sorts of weird things the past few hours but I never saw anything out of the ¡ª¡±

    He never got to complete his sentence. Before he could get the last word out, there was a sharp swishing noise, followed by a loud thwack. Jon coughed and spluttered, grasping at his chest as Haley uttered a small scream. Something long and thin was sprouting from his chest now, where a stream of blood was trickling out. She heard the swishing noise again and hauled Jonathan out of the line of fire just as another arrow flew loose, burying itself in the grass where Jon had just been sitting.

    Once he was securely out of the way, she crept up to the mouth of the cave and peered outside, terrified. She was expecting to see the Harbingers standing out there again, which was why she was immensely confused to see what looked like a herd of horses gathered in front of their earth tent.

    After a few seconds she realized that they weren¡¯t horses at all. They had the lower bodies of horses, but where the necks should have been their bodies melded smoothly with what were obviously human torsos, all of which were clutching bows and arrows and aiming right at her. Not goats.

    ¡°Centaurs,¡± she breathed.

 Chapter 21: Inner Light

    Haley withdrew her head with a yelp, but she wasn¡¯t fast enough. Another arrow came zooming through the small crevice in the mouth of the cave, aimed directly at her face. She screamed ¡ª and at the same time a spire of rock burst from the earth in front of her, sealing off the entrance and shielding her from the arrow as the metal embedded itself in it with a loud thud. She scrambled backwards, her hands clawing through squelchy pockets of mud as she hurried deeper into the cave. Oscar awoke at last, jerking back into the land of the conscious with a pronounced start.

    ¡°Wuzzgoinon?¡± he said incoherently, rubbing his eyes with vigor. ¡°The Harbingers?¡±

    ¡°No, not the Harbingers.¡± With a grunt Jon heaved the arrow from his chest. He summoned another orb of light from his hands, brightening the gloomy cave, and as visibility returned to them he saw that the arrowhead was lathered with a strange, viscous, emerald liquid. The skin where it had made contact was sizzling. ¡°I don¡¯t know what they are, but they¡¯re just as annoying though.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re centaurs,¡± Haley said.

    Jon stared at her blankly. A look of incredulity spread across her face, as if she couldn¡¯t believe he didn¡¯t know what she was talking about.

    ¡°You know, centaurs?¡± She waved her hands through the air as if she was doing some kind of bizarre charades imitation, but Jon didn¡¯t have the slightest clue as to what she was referring to.

    ¡°Not everyone spends their free time with their noses buried in the library, you know!¡± he hissed.

    Haley rolled her eyes. It was funny how even in times of great urgency certain aspects of her personality couldn¡¯t be subdued.

    ¡°They¡¯re half men, half horse hybrids from Greek myth. Wild and raunchy, very good with bows and arrows.¡±

    ¡°Why are they attacking us?¡± Oscar asked.

    ¡°No idea, but they¡­¡± Haley¡¯s words trailed off, and none of them were left in doubt as to why. A tumultuous pounding noise had suddenly rung through the air, as if a gigantic hand had slammed an enormous hammer onto the ground just beyond the wall.

    There was silence for the mere space of a heartbeat, then another huge striking noise sounded out from the wall just beside them and they backed away at once. All around them the noise was growing louder and louder. The walls were shaking as if an earthquake was passing through. Haley stifled a gasp as a huge crack split the front wall. The stomping outside was growing far more insistent; Jon could tell what was going to happen moments before it actually did.

    ¡°Get down!¡± he yelled, and he launched himself towards his siblings, hauling them to the ground just as the roof and walls of the cave were torn asunder.

    Fragments of rock and dust rained down upon them. In moments, they were buried under a cloud of rubble. Jon raised his head, coughing, and tried to force his way upwards, blasting the more stubborn shards of rock out of the way with pulses of energy. At last he managed to force his way out and looked around: the cave had been utterly demolished. As if that wasn¡¯t bad enough, they were completely surrounded by an army of exactly what Haley had described: half men, half horse creatures that were currently pointing a variety of weapons in their direction: spears, longswords, crude knives that looked like they were made of bone, and bows all nocked with arrows waiting to fly.

    For some reason though, they weren¡¯t firing yet. Haley and Oscar too managed to claw their way out of the rubble, their hair and faces marred with dirt. Skylar had also been buried beneath the rubble; she pushed herself out with a bray of triumph, but several of the centaurs lobbed a volley of purple-flamed torches at her feet in unison. The flames blazed furiously as they made contact and she scampered off into the trees, whinnying in terror.

    As discreetly as he could Jon tried to reach towards his ring. They may have been outnumbered, but there was no way he was going to surrender quietly.

    Just as he laid his finger on the glittering sapphire there was a sharp whistling sound and then his hand exploded in pain.

    One of the centaurs had shot him, his arrow landing squarely in the center of his palm. Jon let out an earsplitting scream; his hand felt like it was on fire, glazed in the same slimy green liquid that burned like acid.

    ¡°Do not move. This will be your only warning.¡±

    The voice was low and calm, yet there was a hint of menace to its tone. One of the centaurs broke from the group and came trotting forward. Another fork of lightning ripped through the sky and illuminated the scene for a brief moment under a harsh white glare. This centaur looked wilder and rougher than the others, with a bushy black beard, unkempt curly hair, and a gleaming cremello coat. He was the one who had fired, and he stood a few inches taller than the others around him.

    ¡°What do you want?¡± Haley burst out. ¡°We haven¡¯t done anything to you!¡±

    ¡°That is not for you to decide, girl,¡± said the centaur. ¡°A criminal does not judge himself, that right goes to those he has harmed.¡±

    ¡°And how have we harmed you?¡± Oscar said in tones of incredulity.

    The centaur transferred his bow to his right hand. With his left he made a wide sweeping motion at the turbulent night sky. Jon understood what he meant immediately, yet still found himself in sheer disbelief.

    ¡°We had nothing to do with that!¡± he said furiously. ¡°In case you hadn¡¯t noticed we¡¯re camping out here because of that storm!¡±

    ¡°And in doing so, you have desecrated our sacred lands!¡± hissed the centaur standing just behind the one who had fired.

    ¡°Sacred? This is just a random forest.¡±

    He knew the moment the words had left his mouth that he had made a grave mistake. A spasm of fury ran through the crowd. Some of them gasped, others let out savage curses, then all at once they advanced a few feet, hoisting their weapons higher and spewing threats of violence.

    ¡°Random forest? How dare you!¡±

    ¡°This ¡®random forest¡¯ is our home! It is the home of countless beings, magical and mundane alike! You couldn¡¯t possibly hope to understand. This forest is brimming with power ¡ª power that people like you wouldn¡¯t be able to feel, much less understand.¡±

    ¡°Just tell us what you want,¡± Jon said dismissively.

    The centaur¡¯s eyes narrowed.

    ¡°What we want, godling¡± ¡ª he said the word as if it were a slur ¡ª ¡°is for you to stop what you have started. This storm was conjured by magic ¡ª divine magic. It is not of this world, and it is wreaking havoc upon it.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± said Haley. Unlike Jon or Oscar, she didn¡¯t look angry. She was genuinely confused, as if she really was interested to hear more.

    ¡°It is a waste trying to explain it to you. You have no connection to this world. You cannot feel her breath in the wind, her heartbeat through the ground, hear the words she speaks in every rustle of her leaves.¡±

    ¡°You can do that? As in actually do that, not just metaphorically speaking?¡± Haley straightened up in sincere interest, eyes widened. ¡°I didn¡¯t even know that was possible.¡±

    ¡°Of course you wouldn¡¯t, you¡¯re nothing but a ¡ª¡±

    ¡°What I am is the goddess of nature,¡± Haley spoke over him.

    ¡°Lies!¡± the centaur boomed, and once again the crowd bristled, drawing their arrows even tighter, ready to let them fly at the first command.

    ¡°It¡¯s true, I can prove it! Please, just give me a chance to show you.¡± She waited for their response, but they gave no reaction other than to stand in stony-faced silence. Haley chose to interpret it as a sign of assent. Very slowly, underneath the gaze of a dozen sharp, poison-tipped arrows, she held her hand over the muddy ground. Jon watched her with bated breath.

    Nothing happened.

    ¡°Of course it was a lie!¡± one of the centaurs in the background roared. ¡°Why would it have been anything different?¡±

    ¡°Haley, do something!¡± Oscar whispered urgently, glancing nervously at the arrow aimed at his throat. Haley scrunched up her face in deep concentration, breathing hard.

    A few moments passed and when yet again nothing significant occurred, another centaur whose face was shrouded in shadow spoke in a voice of mingled rage and resignation. ¡°This is ridiculous! Why are we wasting time on such nonsense? Sunder, I believe you should ¡ª¡±

    He was cut off by a sudden explosion of screams and gasps. Jon too was so surprised that he jumped back with a gasp of his own; he had been expecting ¡ª or hoping rather ¡ª that something would happen, but perhaps something simple like the blooming of a flower. He had not expected vines as thick as tree trunks to erupt from the ground with the force of a battering ram, demolishing the forest floor as they wrapped themselves firmly around the gang of centaurs and effortlessly hoisted them into the air. Their screams filled the night air, almost as loud as the periodic booms of thunder.

    Jon stifled a laugh. It was quite funny, seeing them dangling in midair like flags in a school courtyard, but this was neither the time nor place for that.

    The rain was still hammering against them. Haley stood up, and so did Jon and Oscar. With a flourish of her hands a new wave of vines sprang from the ground, coalescing directly over their heads to form a kind of thick, greenish umbrella.

    ¡°That¡¯s better,¡± said Haley. Jon glanced sideways at her and saw that she was smirking. ¡°Now do you believe me?¡±

    He expected to hear cries of mutiny raining down from above, but instead the centaurs fell silent. They were looking down at her with expressions of deep humility, almost reverence.

    ¡°Here¡¯s a nice bargain for you: I can put you down and we have a civilized conversation, or I can leave you dangling here all night. What do you say?¡±

    All eyes flicked to the centaur at the front, the one that they had called Sunder. Slowly he nodded. Haley raised her hands and made a sweeping motion towards the floor; the vines followed her movements, depositing the centaurs onto the ground and retracting smoothly into the forest floor.

    ¡°It is true then,¡± said Sunder, who by now Jon had identified as the centaurs¡¯ leader. ¡°You are a nature goddess.¡±

    Haley nodded. To their surprise, the centaurs bowed, crossing one of their horse legs in front of the other.

    ¡°That¡¯s really not necessary ¡ª¡± Haley began, suddenly looking rather awkward.

    ¡°It is an honour to have a nature goddess in our presence,¡± Sunder said. ¡°We have not seen one of your kind in almost two centuries.¡±

    ¡°Wait, you mean centaurs can live that long?¡± Jon asked.

    ¡°You would be surprised. My name is Sunder. I am the chief of this tribe of centaurs and overseer of this forest. Forgive our ignorance, I fear with this meddlesome storm in effect we were unable to tell that we had a nature goddess in our midst.¡±Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    Haley waved a hand carelessly. ¡°Water under the bridge. My name is Haley, and these numbskulls are my brothers Jonathan and Oscar. We don¡¯t know much about this storm either but we definitely didn¡¯t cause it. A trio of dark gods attacked us earlier and it looks like they left this storm as a parting gift.¡±

    ¡°Dark gods?¡± Sunder said in a resigned tone. ¡°I feared that might have been the case. Still, it is fortunate that you escaped.¡±

    ¡°Not all of us,¡± said Jon, gritting his teeth again. ¡°We got separated from the rest of our family during the attack. It¡¯s been a nightmare trying to track them in this weather. That¡¯s why we decided to wait here for the time being.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± The centaur reached up and scratched his beard.

    ¡°We¡¯re sorry that we desecrated your forest,¡± Haley said. ¡°That definitely wasn¡¯t our intention, we just needed shelter.¡±

    ¡°It is forgiven,¡± Sunder said, bowing once more. Then he straightened up with a grin. ¡°And if shelter is what you seek, then you are in luck, My Lady.¡±

    <hr>

    The centaurs led them through a thick grove deep in the heart of the woods. They moved so much faster than normal horses that it was almost unreal; their hooves barely touched the forest floor, as if they were simply gliding over it instead. They didn¡¯t even leave hoof prints behind. Jon, Haley, and Oscar followed on Skylar, who they had managed to coax out of hiding after several painstaking minutes, desperately clinging on to her as they fought to keep sight of the centaurs. The storm didn¡¯t seem to bother them much, nor did the low light. Fortunately Skylar managed to keep pace with them, which was good because even with the ball of light hovering around them Jon lost sight of the troop of centaurs about three times before they had reached their target.

    At last, Sunder and his tribe led them to the entrance of what seemed to be the centaur¡¯s camp, which was cleverly hidden behind a waterfall. It wasn¡¯t fun passing underneath it, but after battling the Harbingers¡¯ freak storm it seemed a lot more manageable.

    The camp was small and dingy, but there was a distinct change in the environment as they emerged on the other side of the waterfall.

    The heavy rain that had been lashing them like icy whips didn¡¯t entirely disappear, but the ferocity it had brought with it had drastically died down. It was also much brighter here, although still fairly dim. There was something else too. Jon couldn¡¯t think of the words to describe what he was feeling, but it was almost like there was something tangible in the air that was flowing into him, revitalizing him, warming him from the chill of the storm.

    ¡°Our camp is enchanted,¡± said Sunder, as if he had been reading Jon¡¯s mind. ¡°The magic here protects us from a lot of what happens in the outside world, including weather conditions. But this storm is so powerful that our barrier is only able to lessen the impact, rather than keep it out entirely.¡±

    Jon didn¡¯t know much about centaurs, but it seemed this tribe consisted of only males. There were other creatures in the camp though, including some women, but unless Jon¡¯s eyes were deceiving him they had green skin and were wearing dresses made out of leaves. As he watched, one of the women approached a nearby tree and actually melted into the bark.

    ¡°Am I crazy, or did that lady just get eaten by a tree?¡± Oscar asked, having been observing the same scene.

    Sunder chuckled. ¡°Mera is a wood nymph, a spirit of the forest. They can meld into nature as easily as you can breathe.¡±

    This section of the forest was far more beautiful than any other they had seen thus far. The flowers were more vibrant, the ground was a rich brown hue, even the very air smelled cleaner. The centaurs came to another halt just outside of a small cabin. Skylar knelt low enough for them to dismount, then they looked up at the place where Sunder had brought them.

    ¡°This cabin belonged to an old friend of mine who passed some years ago. We made sure that it was kept orderly, as a way to honour him. I¡¯m sure he wouldn¡¯t mind letting you recuperate here while we tide the storm. Please, feel free to stay as long as you wish.¡±

    ¡°Thank you Sunder, we really appreciate it.¡±

    Sunder bowed. ¡°Breakfast begins at dawn, at the sound of the first horn, down by the mess hall.¡± He pointed at another cabin in the distance, this one larger. ¡°Do enjoy your stay, and let us know if you need anything.¡± He turned and galloped off in the opposite direction.

    The doorframe was much higher than they normally were, which was a given seeing that most of the centaurs stood at around seven or eight feet. Haley turned the doorknob and they entered. The room was moderately sized, but a strong scent of wet horse lingered on the air. Apparently Sunder had forgotten to mention that centaurs didn¡¯t need beds, because the floor was covered in a thick layer of straw, with nothing so much as a hammock to lay in.

    ¡°Comfy,¡± Jon said, eyeing the floor with distaste.

    ¡°Don¡¯t complain, a few hours ago we were lying in mud,¡± said Haley.

    ¡°Yeah, but unlike mud straw gets everywhere. And I mean everywhere. My friends shoved me in one of the animal enclosures at the zoo once and for three days afterwards I kept finding straw in my ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare finish that sentence,¡± Haley said, throwing up a hand and looking repulsed.

    ¡°Pretty cool how their attitude towards you took a full 180,¡± Oscar said, throwing himself onto a particularly high tuft of straw. ¡°You¡¯re like royalty here. Who knows, we might wake up to see them building a statute in your honour. The great Lady Iduna, the first nature goddess to grace this forest in two centuries,¡± he said, imitating a museum curator.

    ¡°Of course they wouldn¡¯t,¡± Haley said, although Jon had a sneaking suspicion she wouldn¡¯t mind if they did. ¡°Let¡¯s just get some sleep please. A girl needs her beauty sleep. You two wouldn¡¯t understand.¡±

    ¡°Because we¡¯re boys?¡± Jon said, raising an eyebrow.

    Haley rolled over, snuggling into the straw. ¡°Well I was going to say because you¡¯re hideous, but that works too.¡±

    The next three days within the centaur¡¯s camp passed by as if in some kind of haze. On the first day they had awoken, it was to find a gigantic, crudely designed statue of Haley erected just outside the cabin, holding one of her war fans over the lower half of her face. Haley had been totally flabbergasted, but then it was revealed as nothing more than one of Oscar¡¯s illusions. She had been staring daggers at him when another centaur, this one much younger and more fresh-faced than the others had appeared, requesting Haley¡¯s presence on behalf of Sunder. Jon and Oscar made to follow, but the centaur abruptly switched from a polite, slightly awkward demeanour to curt and snappish faster than Tim could cross the mansion¡¯s living room and clarified that he meant only Haley.

    For the rest of the day Jon and Oscar tried to find things to occupy them, but with no technology around it was hard to do. They had even tried to walk around camp for a bit, but clearly gods of light and illusions were far less welcome in their presence than ones of nature. Everywhere they went they received hard stares and mutters.

    Shortly after midday, they decided to simply return to the cabin after Oscar tried to make small talk with one of the wood nymphs and in response she turned with a frightened expression and ran into her tree at mach speed.

    Haley returned a few hours later, positively glowing. As it turned out Sunder had requested an audience with her so that she could use her powers to help restore a section of the forest that had been destroyed by a wild fire they had had a few days before. Haley hadn¡¯t managed to repair all the damage, but she stated they had made good progress and would continue tomorrow, though it would once again be only with her. Jon and Oscar remained in that small cabin for the most part, with the few times they left being the occasions they had to find food.

    It was on the return journey from one of these trips that he discovered a vast, empty field behind their small encampment. Like the entrance to the camp it was well-hidden among the dense foliage, and only by glimpsing a few centaurs disappearing into the shrubs did he find it.

    The magic protecting their camp was, as Sunder explained, weakening the longer the storm remained in effect, which by now had been almost four days. Rain was creeping in; it had already begun to transition from a light drizzle into a significant squalor, but it hadn¡¯t yet reached a point where they had to barricade themselves inside. It was on their fourth day trapped inside the camp, when Jon¡¯s level of boredom had reached exploding point, that he decided to take a closer look at that field. He waited until the group of centaurs that he had seen disappearing through the barrier of leaves had returned, sweaty and ruddy-faced but looking highly contented, and beckoned Skylar with him.

    She too had clearly been dissatisfied with being cooped up for several days, and as a particularly strong gust of wind swept across the field, Skylar nickered contentedly.

    ¡°You like that, don¡¯t you?¡± Jon said, grinning and patting her head. She whinnied, pawing at the floor in excitement. Jon hoisted himself up onto her back, seized the reins extending from around her neck, and gave them a sharp jerk. She began to run, cantering forward across the grass, then their angle suddenly inclined upwards and she launched herself into the sky. It was an oddly comforting feeling, the wind and rain dappling his skin as the duo wove their way through the air.

    Skylar was in her element, picking up speed as she raced around and around the field. The centaurs were incredible no doubt, but they didn¡¯t compare to the ventus, who looped the football-field-sized pasture in mere seconds.

    Again and again they rode around the field. Jon had no idea how long they had been running for: all sense of time, of worry, of anxiety about what was happening out there in that storm, had been washed out of him by the turbulent breeze. Right now it was simply him, his ventus, and the wide open sky. The longer he rode across her back the more he felt like something was tugging at his memory, grainy, half-formed images that were desperately trying to become whole. He wished he could remember her, because she clearly remembered him. The sense of familiarity emanating from her was almost palpable, and it was stronger than ever in the nights when they slept in the cabin as she curled around him, nuzzling him like a puppy.

    Jon couldn¡¯t tell what had caused it ¡ª perhaps it was the adrenaline, fueling his imagination as his blood pumped harder than ever through his veins. But completely unbidden, a new image randomly sprouted in his mind.

    It was no doubt a younger Jonathan, clad in a white and gold tunic and streaking through the air upon what looked like a chibi version of Skylar. He was squealing gleefully while Skylar tried to catch several little balls of light floating ahead of them. Struck by sudden inspiration, he conjured three orbs of light that hovered just around Skylar¡¯s head. The ventus immediately perked up. She put on a burst of speed so great that Jon almost went tumbling off; he had to tighten his grip tenfold on the reins just to stay astride her saddle, and yet he was laughing harder than he had in the last few days.

    Jon let out a shout of mirth as the ventus bobbed from side to side, trying to swallow the balls of light bobbing ahead of them, and each time she got close Jon sent them rocketing out of the way as if they were live prey, trying to dodge a predator.

    For several minutes they continued like this. He was having too much fun to keep track of the exact timeframe, but by the time they were done ¡ª when Skylar had finally succeeded in swallowing one of the balls ¡ª he was feeling far better than he had since they had first touched down in this forest. The fact that the storm was slowly worsening, the worry of what had become of Tim and Lauren ¡ª all of it had been washed away for a few glorious minutes.

    Panting heavily, Jon slid to the ground, patting Skylar¡¯s head.

    ¡°I bet we had a lot of fun when we were younger, didn¡¯t we?¡±

    She could not speak, but he understood her answer perfectly as she nuzzled his hand.

    ¡°That is quite the steed you¡¯ve got there,¡± said a voice, jerking him out of his reverie. Jon looked around and for the first time since they had set foot in this camp, he saw a centaur that actually looked close in age to himself. Perhaps a few years older, but definitely closer than any other. Unlike the rest of the centaurs, this one wasn¡¯t bare-chested, but instead wore a fuzzy black, sleeveless vest and instead of the scraggly beard he sported a neat line of scruff.

    ¡°So she is,¡± Jon said, casting him a rather curious look.

    The centaur smiled awkwardly. ¡°Ah, you have no idea who I am. My apologies, my name is Roanoke. I usually come here in the evenings when my brethren have already gone on their run; I prefer to run alone. If you don¡¯t mind my asking, what is it you meant by your last statement? I didn¡¯t mean to eavesdrop, but from an outside perspective it is kind of an odd thought.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a long story.¡± Jon sighed. ¡°But the cliffnotes version of it is my siblings and I had our memories wiped when we were very young, as a way of keeping us safe from the gods who attacked us before. The process was never undone, so our past is still one big mystery to us.¡±

    ¡°That¡­ that sounds awful.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not so bad.¡±

    ¡°You may think so, but one thing I¡¯ve noticed over the years is that a lot of people spend their time looking to the future but completely overlooking the past. Yes, the future is important, but our past experiences are what have shaped us into the people we are now. You may say it¡¯s not so bad, but that could simply be because you don¡¯t know what you¡¯re missing.¡±

    ¡°I mean I¡¯ve thought about it. But I don¡¯t think it¡¯s the same for us. Sure, we have a lot buried in those five years that we lost, but it¡¯s not like we¡¯re blank slates. We still lived through our own childhoods, we¡¯ve all had plenty of other experiences that shaped us.¡±

    Roanoke smiled. ¡°Well, who am I to pretend that I know better than you? I did want to apologize though,  for the behaviour that you received in your time here. Your sister is a nature goddess, so naturally my people, who have a very strong connection to the earth, will be drawn more to her. But you and your brother are still very respected amongst my kind. Light is just as important as nature, after all. Without it, nature cannot thrive. You are essential, to both your world and mine.¡±

    Jon heaved a deep sigh. ¡°That¡¯s a nice thought, but these days it¡¯s not easy to think like that.¡±

    Roanoke frowned. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Have you looked around recently? It¡¯s hard to think of yourself as essential when everywhere you turn is pitch-black and there¡¯s nothing you can do about it.¡±

    ¡°On the contrary, now is the time you¡¯re needed most of all,¡± said Roanoke, looking shocked. ¡°The darkness is immense, no one can deny, but at the end of the day light is what people need to guide them through it. This storm, and perhaps your situation as well, are admittedly bleak. But this isn¡¯t the first storm this world has had to weather, nor will it be its last. Yet no matter what happens or how long it may go on, it must pass ¡ª it will pass ¡ª and the sun will shine again.¡±

    Jon remained silent for a long moment, staring into his earnest face. He didn''t fully agree with the centaur''s perspective, but he couldn''t find it in himself to argue. ¡°You know, you¡¯re pretty wise for a teenager,¡± he said at last.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± said Roanoke. ¡°But I¡¯m not really a teenager.¡±

    ¡°How old are you then?¡±

    ¡°Sixty-five,¡± Roanoke said simply. ¡°Us centaurs age rather slowly.¡±

    Jon gaped at him, utterly taken aback.

    ¡°But anyway, I do hope what I said is of some use to you in the future. Never lose sight of your inner light. In times of need that spark can burn brighter than even Venus herself.¡± He nodded, then he cantered away across the darkening slope.

 Chapter 22: March of the Dearly Departed

    The centaurs might not be winning any awards for their bedside manner, but they sure knew how to party. Oscar discovered this on their fifth day in camp, shortly after Jon had informed him that he would be taking Skylar out for a quick ride and, after a slightly awkward pause, asked if he would like to join them. He could tell that Jon had asked more out of courtesy than anything else as it was clear that he would prefer to be alone, so Oscar had declined. Haley was wrapped up in the mysterious tasks that Sunder had set for her, but Jon was obviously still wrestling with the decision to leave Tim and Lauren on their own instead of continuing their search.

    Unfortunately that wasn¡¯t an option. In no time at all the storm had progressed to one of the worst hurricanes Oscar had ever seen. According to the centaur chieftain, the dark magic from the heavy winds and rain was seeping into the very ground, poisoning the forest.

    At first they had nothing to go on but the centaur¡¯s word, but after a time the effects became visible to the naked eye. The trees around them, so lush and firm upon their arrival, were drying up before their very eyes; the vibrant array of flowers encircling the camp had wilted; and a strange black fungus was creeping over the forest floor. He could only imagine the damage the hurricane was doing to the city. The horrible thought that the weather had claimed lives haunted him, but he hoped that somehow, as naive as it may seem, he was wrong. Damaged houses and property was manageable, but lost lives could never be regained.

    It was hard to sit here in this small, foul-smelling cabin day after day and do nothing while Haley was out there desperately trying to repair the damage the Harbingers were causing. And now even Jon was trying to find some kind of purpose here. That left him the only outlier.

    Oscar suddenly stood up, as swift and automatic as a machine following orders, and he swept out into the evening air.

    He brought with him a coat that he had obtained from a small thrift shop a short ways away from their cabin, which sold a variety of clothing despite the centaurs not being able to wear trousers and preferring to go bare-chested. It was one of those things in life that never made sense but nobody ever seemed to question. In addition to the coat, he was also sporting an umbrella that he had received from the same wood nymph he had tried to talk to on his first day in the camp, who had scurried away as if he was carrying an infectious disease.

    It had been a surprise to find her at their doorstop less than two days later, bright spots of pink shining on her pale green cheeks and eyes averted, as she handed him an umbrella made of thickly woven banana leaves stitched together with thick veins of silk. Her apology had been graciously accepted, and looking immensely relieved she gave him a warm smile and introduced herself.

    Her name was Vera, and Oscar soon came to realize that she was far less shy than she had first appeared. There was fire in her, a blazing defiance that he greatly enjoyed.

    She had also taken him on a tour of the entire camp. All around them bloomed plants that looked like they wouldn¡¯t have been out of place in a cheesy old sci-fi movie: plants that grew twice as tall as the average man, whose vines moved of their own accord, with prominent head-like protrusions stacked with huge red-and-black thorns like fangs. Stranger even was the fact that the wood nymphs seemed to be able to hold long conversations with them.

    In addition to the shop, there was a pub known as the Drowsy Ogre not too far away, which seemed to be the most popular spot in the entire camp.

    It was a small, dingy, darkly lit place, filled with dozens of centaurs carrying huge tin mugs of a very strong-smelling ale that burned Oscar¡¯s nostrils. On one occasion he had witnessed a very distinguished-looking centaur be reduced to a slobbering mess in mere minutes, chasing a wood nymph as he belted a love song.

    She finally managed to escape by running into a nearby tree. Undeterred the centaur followed, ramming headfirst into the bark and ricocheting off like a stray bullet.

    The second most popular place in Camp Centaur was the archery range, where they would gather day after day to refine their skills. Their aim was impeccable: once while watching them from afar, he saw one of the centaurs pin a buzzing insect right out of the air from over fifteen feet away.

    There was also another field, hidden beyond a barrier of bushes where the centaurs gathered to ride freely, which Oscar soon realized was Jon¡¯s new favourite haunting spot. Of the three main attractions, Oscar knew which one he was most interested in.

    During their time at the mansion, where he was under the constant vigil of a multitude of disapproving parents, Oscar had limited himself mainly to an array of family friendly juice choices. But he couldn¡¯t deny that after all they had been through these past few days, he needed a real drink. Hands in his pockets, he wandered down to the Drowsy Ogre, where several centaurs were gathered just outside its walls entertaining a group of nymphs who seemed to be enjoying the attention, tittering behind their hands and blushing.

    Oscar was quite impressed: despite the fact the centaurs were clearly drunk out of their minds, they were putting on quite a show.

    Centaurs looked up over the tops of their glasses as he walked inside, observing him through bloodshot eyes. Oscar was used to stares. Completely unperturbed, he walked right up to the bartender and requested the same drink he consistently saw render the centaurs into mindless wrecks.

    The centaur, who had a dun mane, looked down at him with pronounced mistrust. ¡°Six silver pieces,¡± he said gruffly, holding out a battered wooden pan already clinking with several coins.

    ¡°Coming right up,¡± said Oscar with a wide smile, twiddling his left index finger behind his back. He opened his palm and a number of gleaming silver coins rolled from his hand into the pan. Fortunately the centaur seemed too preoccupied to notice the distinct absence of metal on metal clinking as the coins were deposited. Barely even looking at Oscar, he slammed down a mug of a bright red liquid in front of him and stalked away to another customer, who was jiggling his coins in his hands.

    Oscar took one of the tables at the far end of the room and briefly observed the contents of the mug. It burst with bubbles, sparkling as if liquid stardust was captured in the rim of his mug. Curious, he took a generous gulp of his drink. It was incredible: pleasantly warm and smooth, it rolled over his tongue with a zing that sent his tastebuds into overdrive.

    There was a strong tangy aftertaste to it, but it was probably the best drink he had ever tasted, and he had admittedly gone through a very respectable roster of them. He took another sip of his drink, feeling warmth flood his entire body.

    ¡°I saw that, you know,¡± said a voice in his ear.

    Oscar choked on his drink. Coughing and spluttering, he thumped himself in the chest and, when he had finally regained control of himself, turned and looked up into the eyes of an aged centaur with a rather dull grey mane that matched his beard.

    ¡°Saw what?¡± Oscar asked innocently.

    ¡°Don¡¯t play coy with me, boy. I saw your trick with the coins. Ah, but don¡¯t worry,¡± he added with a wink, seeing Oscar¡¯s tense expression. ¡°I¡¯ve never been much of a fan of old Caius. It¡¯ll be quite funny at day¡¯s end when he starts tallying up and realizes he¡¯s several pieces short. Serves him right, the old moss-brained twit.¡±

    Oscar chortled.

    The centaur smiled and extended a rather large, hairy hand. ¡°Euremon.¡±

    Oscar took it in his own and shook. ¡°Oscar.¡±

    ¡°The illusion god,¡± said Euremon. ¡°Ay, I know of you. You and your siblings are quite famous in these parts. Been a long time since we¡¯ve had a nature god in our presence.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve heard. Almost two hundred years, right?¡±

    The centaur raised his rather bushy eyebrows.

    ¡°Sunder told us.¡±

    ¡°He talks too much,¡± Euremon said gruffly.

    ¡°But yes, that¡¯s right.¡±

    ¡°If you don¡¯t mind me asking, what happened to the last nature god?¡±

    Euremon eyed him very intently for a moment. A lesser being would have cowered under the intensity of his glare, but Oscar merely took a sip of his drink and held his gaze, not a hint of fear in his face. After a moment the wizened centaur¡¯s expression softened.

    ¡°No one knows. It¡¯s one of the greatest mysteries in our tribe¡¯s history. One moment he was doing everything your sister was doing: restoring the forest, tempering the animals, rebuilding our community. Then one day he vanished. Believe me, we searched every nook and cranny of the forest, but not a single trace of him. He just¡­ disappeared. The wood nymphs and the centaurs partnered up after his disappearance, trying to keep things going, but the forest started dying the instant he vanished. All we¡¯ve done is delay the process. But now with this accursed tempest¡­¡±

    Oscar didn¡¯t respond at once. He took another gulp of his ale, his mind on the storm slowly breaking through the camp¡¯s mystical defenses, and how Lauren and Tim were trapped somewhere out there, alone.

    When Valarok had appeared to them, he had singled out Lauren as one of the eldest siblings. There was an innate responsibility as the oldest of the bunch to ensure the safety of their younger siblings, to maintain order when chaos threatened to tear the family apart. Though he had been an only child for all his life, that was the lesson he learned simply by observing other families. But not only had he failed to stop Tim from taking Lauren and rushing off in desperation, he had also failed in the task of locating them afterwards, trusting that Tim would have it covered. But he shouldn¡¯t have to do it alone. That was why Sytris had brought them all back together, wasn¡¯t it? So that they could find strength together.

    ¡°You look lost in thought,¡± said Euremon¡¯s voice, as though from a great distance.

    ¡°Just a bit,¡± Oscar replied automatically.

    ¡°Well don¡¯t think too hard, mind you hurt your poor noggin.¡±

    Oscar looked up and saw that the centaur was smiling, holding up his mug in a toast. He raised his own and bumped it against Euremon¡¯s so that a little of the sparkling red liquid sloshed onto the table. Oscar soon came to realize, however, that drinking responsibly was frowned on by the centaurs. The ale that Caius had concocted was far stronger than anything Oscar had ever experienced, and every time he tried to inject some semblance of moderation in his drinking session the older centaur scoffed and urged him to continue. In no time at all he had downed his third mug, his speech was slurred and his vision was blurry.

    He couldn¡¯t remember how or when it had happened, only that somehow, he had ended up on top of one of the tables, belting an incoherent musical tragedy at the top of his lungs while several centaurs assumed the position as his backup singers.

    The other centaurs were roaring in approval; even Caius was smirking. One of his entourage was just trying to climb on top of the table alongside him when a loud, reproachful voice rang out his name.

    ¡°Oscar!¡±

    He turned and squinted at the doorway. It took a few seconds before the speaker came into focus, then he saw Vera, her eyes wide with shock.

    ¡°Hey, V!¡± he shouted, slopping some of his drink onto a nearby centaur¡¯s head. ¡°Hey everyone, make some noise for V!¡±

    The centaurs rose as one and gave a deafening cheer. Completely ignoring them, Vera strode into the bar and up to the table where Oscar was dancing, then yanked him onto the floor.

    ¡°Ow!¡± he cried as his head bumped against the table, but she did not pause, instead seizing him by the scruff of his shirt and leading him swiftly through the door among cries of disappointment from the onlookers.

    ¡°Where are we going?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Away from here. I thought I warned you to stay away from that pub?¡±

    ¡°Did you? Maybe it was the other pub in camp. Yeah, I¡¯m pretty sure of it.¡±

    She did not respond. Instead she quickened her pace as she turned towards the forest. Even in his inebriated state he recognized the path she was taking. They were heading towards a special river she had brought him to on their first tour of the camp. And sure enough, minutes later they arrived at the bank of the river, which was protected by a canopy of trees so dense that even the rain steadily creeping into the camp was unable to penetrate. The river itself was a winding stretch of water that was as clear as glass, allowing a perfect view right down to the bottom of the water, where rocks gleamed in the dim light and schools of glowing fish flickered past like luminescent arrows. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Vera took a seat by the riverside, forcing Oscar down beside her.

    ¡°Why¡¯d you bring me here?¡± he said, looking around.

    ¡°So that your siblings wouldn¡¯t have to see you like this,¡± she replied curtly. ¡°Now keep still ¡ª and hold your breath.¡±

    ¡°Why would I need to ¡ª¡±

    Before he could finish his question she had seized him by the scruff of his neck and forced his head under the water. In his shock he had forgotten to hold his breath and the water came flooding in. After a few seconds of this, his survival instincts kicked in at last and he tried to hold his breath, desperately trying to keep the water out, but his head felt like it was going to explode. His arms splashed around above ground, completely futile in their efforts to free him. After what felt like an eternity, she drew him back up and he took a great gasp, as if trying to suck in all the air around them.

    ¡°Why did you do that?¡± he demanded, as he finished a particularly nasty fit of coughing.

    ¡°Head feel clearer?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ Yes actually,¡± said Oscar, who realized that he was actually able to form coherent thoughts again.

    ¡°The River of Chryseis cleanses impurities in the blood. It¡¯s the fastest way to make yourself sober. Unfortunately this is where a lot of the centaurs find themselves at the end of the day to restore themselves.¡±

    Oscar sighed, settling himself on the grass. ¡°I just wanted a drink, that¡¯s all.¡±

    Vera raised an eyebrow. ¡°You mean you wanted to drown your sorrows in one of Caius¡¯s mugs? Unfortunately for you, it seems your sorrows have learned to swim. All you accomplished was making a fool of yourself in front of the centaurs.¡±

    ¡°On the contrary, I think they actually respect me more now.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t need to get drunk and act like a neanderthal to earn their respect. All you had to do was let them get to know you.¡±

    ¡°Really? Is that all it takes?¡± Oscar asked with mock innocence.

    Vera rolled her eyes. ¡°I know from experience that one dip isn¡¯t enough to fully cleanse that awful concoction from your system. The magical properties in the river need more time to work.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re going to try to drown me again, aren¡¯t you?¡± Oscar said with a sigh.

    ¡°Precisely,¡± Vera said brightly, and she submerged him once more. She held him under for much longer than she had the first time, so long in fact that he wondered if she actually was going to let him drown. Then he remembered that he couldn¡¯t die by drowning, but if it couldn¡¯t kill him then what was going to happen to him? His arms flailed around furiously, trying to find some anchor to wrench him out, but Vera was clearly much stronger than he had given her credit for. A large, glistening, rainbow-coloured fish flickered up to him and stared into his eyes, then it darted away as Vera yanked him out of the water. Oscar flopped onto the grass, coughing and spluttering.

    ¡°Feeling better?¡±

    ¡°Strangely, yeah,¡± said Oscar, peeling himself from the ground and flicking his sodden hair out of his face. ¡°Once you get past the almost dying part.¡±

    ¡°What could have possessed you to do something like that?¡±

    Oscar did not respond immediately. Staring into the depths of the crystalline water he said, ¡°I just wanted to take my mind off things for a little bit.¡±

    ¡°And this is how you do it?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the only way I know how.¡±

    ¡°You could always try talking about the things that trouble you, you know.¡± Vera moved a little closer, her expression shifting from reproachful to sympathetic. ¡°Your siblings ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Have their own drama. I don¡¯t want to add to it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure they wouldn¡¯t think of it like that. But even if you don¡¯t want to add to their burdens,¡± she continued in a slightly raised voice, when he remained unconvinced, ¡°then I can always lend you my own ear. Us wood nymphs don¡¯t have much to worry about, besides drunken, love-sick centaurs chasing us around camp. It wouldn¡¯t be much of a burden to hear what you¡¯ve got to say.¡±

    Oscar heaved a deep sigh. ¡°Where would I even start?¡±

    ¡°I may be a little old-fashioned, but I¡¯d say the beginning is always a good starting point.¡±

    Again Oscar turned his eyes to the water. That was easy for her to say, but for him everything was knotted so tightly that he wasn¡¯t sure where his troubles even began. He opened his mouth to speak, but before the words had even left his lips, a terrible, blood-curdling cry exploded through the air like a foghorn. Birds took to the air in fright, uttering shrill cries and flapping furiously as they dashed out of the trees and into the sky.

    ¡°What was that?¡± demanded Oscar.

    Vera was on her feet at once, looking shocked. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    Somewhere in the distance, a low, rumbling trumpet sounded.

    ¡°Gaia help us,¡± muttered Vera. ¡°That¡¯s the war horn. The camp is under siege.¡±

    Oscar was on his feet too, staring into the direction the horn had sounded from. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    The trip back into the camp seemed to be much shorter than it was getting to the river. As they ran, Oscar noticed something strange. The squalor that had loomed throughout the camp for the past few days had ceased at last, but in its stead a dense fog was now drifting through the trees. The unsightly black fungus coating the trees was more widespread than ever. He and Vera arrived in the center of a thick crowd of curious onlookers who like themselves were trying to find an answer to the question they all had.

    A horde of retreating centaurs now came into view, faces masked with terror.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± shouted one of the centaurs Oscar recognized from Sunder¡¯s troop that had attacked them shortly after they touched down in the forest.

    ¡°Ghouls!¡± was all one of their companions replied before disappearing out of sight alongside the rest of his crew.

    ¡°What does he mean?¡± Oscar said. ¡°What are ¡ª what ¡ª¡±

    The question was being answered for him. Several of the gathered onlookers let out gasps of horror. After everything Oscar had seen in the past two weeks ¡ª flying horses made of wind, centaurs, leviathans, monster-doctors, rock giants ¡ª he thought maybe he was starting to get used to the magical world. But zombies. Heck no.

    What looked like a whole army of the undead was approaching at speed, shrouded in the same thick fog now spreading around them. They looked like ordinary people, clad in colourful skirts, suits and ties, shorts and t-shirts. But their skin was dark and flayed, not as if they had been burned, but as if they too had fallen victim to the horrible fungus now eating away at the forest. Their eyes were glowing blank, white slits, wide and empty, and they were emitting low, animalistic growls.

    ¡°What abomination is this?¡± one of the centaurs beside him said, shifting his horse legs nervously.

    As they watched a battalion of centaurs rushed forward, bows and arrows, spears and longswords at the ready. The air was soon thick with arrows, and their aim struck true. Within moments the entire horde of zombies had fallen. But¡­ none of them stayed down. They rose with awful, spine-chilling movements. Joints twisted in abnormal positions, bones cricked and cracked, and they came forward again. The centaurs retaliated with yet another volley of arrows, but every time they struck one of their targets it simply rose again, even more aggressive than before it had fallen.

    The centaurs tried to retreat, but the zombie horde was upon them now. More and more arrows were being loosed, but after a time it stopped having effect. Oscar watched as an arrow flew straight into one of the zombie¡¯s eyes and it simply continued to advance, barely even flinching.

    The centaur who had fired let out a shrill scream of horror and tried to run, but several zombies launched themselves upon him and brought him to the ground. His screams lit the air, followed by a litany of grotesque rips and tears, and after a moment his screams were silenced.

    His comrades roared in a mixture of rage and grief, hacking and stabbing and firing at everything within reach.

    But it was to no avail. The resulting exchange was vicious and bloody, but short-lived. Every centaur who was on the frontlines had fallen within minutes. And that was when something truly dreadful occurred. The bodies of the felled centaurs began to stir, twisting and shifting with the same gruesome, unnatural movements of the other zombies, eyes blank and glowing with the same eerie white light.

    ¡°Dear Gaia,¡± one of the nymphs gasped. The zombie army, now strengthened by the latest additions to its ranks, turned their sights upon their newest set of victims and charged.

    The scene exploded in chaos as wood nymphs and centaurs alike turned and scattered in every direction, like ants whose nest had been disturbed, screaming at the top of their lungs. Oscar grabbed Vera¡¯s hand and hurtled off. He wasn¡¯t sure where they were going, only that he wanted to be as far from this abominable scene as possible. He kept his eyes fixed firmly in front of him, but every scream, every slash of a sword, every crack of bone behind him painted a very vivid picture. Some of the members of the crowd who were trying to escape had been caught, and by now had joined the army of the undead.

    ¡°Oscar!¡± Vera shrieked, pointing beside them.

    One of the centaurs was closing in on them from their right, hidden by the intense fog that was slowly encompassing the whole camp. He was holding a spear, which was spattered with fresh blood. The centaur kicked off and took a giant leap, landing squarely in front of them, then he launched the spear. Oscar tackled Vera to the ground just as the spear embedded itself into the ground behind them.

    ¡°Nokk!¡± he yelled, fingering his necklace. A flash of purple rose through the darkness; his hand now enclosed in his gauntlet, Oscar turned to the advancing centaur. He dodged a sharp kick from his front hooves and threw a fierce blow in his chest, just a few inches above a nasty wound that was still oozing blood; probably the very wound that had killed him.

    There was a sound like an explosion and the centaur was repelled into a nearby cabin, demolishing the front wall as he soared through it.

    ¡°No, Ayana!¡± wailed Vera. Oscar whirled around and saw another wood nymph being chased by three zombies, desperately rushing to reach a great pine tree close to the very cabin Oscar and his siblings had been staying in the past five days. Like most of the other flora in this region, it was covered in a thick layer of black fungus. Ayana was faster, reaching the safety of the tree before they could catch her. Or so Oscar had thought. To his horror, Ayana was rebuffed from the tree, unable to meld into it the way they had demonstrated so many times over the course of his stay.

    ¡°No! No! Help!¡±

    The attackers reached her before Oscar did. Her heartbreaking screams filled the clearing as they pinned her down, tearing limb from limb as easily as if she was a rag doll.

    ¡°Ayana!¡± screamed Vera, breaking down in sobs as Ayana¡¯s screams were extinguished with a horrifying abruptness. Unlike what happened with the centaurs, however, Ayana did not rise again. The party of zombies now turned to face Oscar and Vera. Oscar grabbed her shoulder, trying to steer her away, but she seemed unable to move.

    ¡°Vera, we have to go!¡± Oscar shouted, but the nymph was paralyzed by despair.

    More of the creatures were gathering around them, drawing together in a tight circle to close them in. Oscar raised his gauntleted hand. He knew he wouldn¡¯t be able to handle all of them, but it was as Jon always said: he would fight to the last breath. All at once the creatures broke from their circle and charged at him. Before they reached him however, a streak of light flew overhead, soaring towards the floor like a stone.

    Oscar threw himself into the grass as the glowing orb exploded like a grenade, sending up a flash of light that tore the garrison of zombies apart.

    Smoking limbs flew through the air as the flashbang faded, and to Oscar¡¯s immense disgust, a black, scaly-skinned arm flopped onto the grass in front of him.

    ¡°Ugh.¡± He kicked the arm away, but instead of hurtling away into the fog, the fingers wrapped themselves around his ankle with a vice-like grip. ¡°Get ¡ª off ¡ª me!¡± he roared, hopping around on his left leg as he wrenched the arm off of his right and tossed it away. Jon appeared at his side, leaping off of Skylar. Haley was just behind him, riding upon Sunder¡¯s back.

    Haley looked aghast, staring at the remnants of the zombie army with wide eyes. ¡°What is going on? Are those ¡ª zombies? Like actual, real life zombies?¡±

    ¡°Seems like it,¡± Oscar said, pulling the still-sobbing Vera to her feet. ¡°They must have gotten through the barrier somehow.¡±

    ¡°Impossible!¡± Sunder gasped, white faced. ¡°No such evil could have passed through our barrier.¡±

    ¡°Then how do you explain that?¡± Jon jabbed a finger at another approaching wave of zombies, the bodies of centaurs clearly among them.

    ¡°Abomination,¡± Sunder whispered, terror etched in every line of his face. ¡°Filth. Obscenity.¡±

    The zombies were gathering speed, filling the air with their heinous growls.

    ¡°Get behind me!¡± Haley said. She thrust her hands out towards the forest floor. Vines again erupted from the ground, but instead of the enormous shoots that had hoisted Sunder and his companions into the air, these were much smaller and thinner, and lined with thorns. The vines criss-crossed each other in the air, rotating like high-speed jump ropes. The body of an elderly-looking woman in a torn-up nightgown charged at Haley and the vines lashed out, ripping right through the woman¡¯s torso and sending the severed halves of her body cascading into the fog.

    ¡°Easy, Haley!¡± Oscar said. ¡°Those are still people!¡±

    ¡°No they¡¯re not,¡± said Sunder, who still looked shell-shocked. ¡°They¡¯re plagues, an affront to nature. Any tether they had to the earth is gone. They must be destroyed.¡±

    ¡°Now hold on ¡ª¡± Oscar began, but before he could finish his sentence, an odd whistling sound pierced the air and next thing he knew Jon had divetackled him out of the way of an arrow that lodged itself into the trunk of an old mahogany tree just behind them. The arrow was slathered with the same poison that the centaurs used, and in mere seconds a hole the size of a soccer ball had melted into the bark.

    ¡°You were saying?¡± Jon said.

    The herd of creatures continued to rush them, but they never got close. Every time they neared Haley her vines would shoot forward, shredding the bodies apart. For a moment it seemed Haley had everything under control ¡ª until an arrow whistled through the space in between her vines and pierced her side. She collapsed with a shriek, her skin sizzling where she had been struck.

    The lapse in her concentration allowed the creatures to force their way through the vines. Jon had summoned his sword, Oscar brandished his gauntlet and even Sunder had drawn his bow and arrow, but just by looking at the sheer number of them Oscar could tell that this wasn¡¯t going to end well.

    There were just too many of them.

    ¡°You three will undoubtedly survive, but I fear this might be the end of the line for me,¡± Sunder said in a melancholy voice.

    ¡°No, nobody¡¯s dying tonight!¡± Jon shouted.

    The creatures were upon them now, pouring over them like a flood. They readied themselves to battle, but before either side could mount an attack, a bolt of lightning blazed through the darkening sky and landed just in front of them. The explosion sent them flying backwards, scattering among the trees. Pain searing through his body, Oscar looked up. When the smoke finally cleared a massive crater lay in the ground between them and the creatures.

    Fragments of rock and loose body parts showered down upon them. The few zombies that somehow managed to survive the strike were climbing out of the crater, some of them missing limbs, but still determined to attack.

    They were coming at speed, but again, they were spared the need for retaliation. Before the zombies could take more than a few steps, a shimmering azure blur whipped onto the field, ramming into the zombies and catapulting them back into the crater. In less than three seconds, all of them had been thrust back into the pit. Injured though she was, Haley reacted with incredible speed: she wrenched the arrow out of her side and clapped her hands together as if praying. The entire ground trembled, then the walls of the pit smashed together with a horrible crunching noise.

    When the dust had settled, the blur came zooming back into view and stopped directly in front of them, and a familiar face appeared from within. It was Tim, smeared in mud and zombie goo, and grinning widely. Lauren was just behind him, her spear sparking with green electricity.

 Chapter 23: Ashes to Ashes

    There was silence for the briefest of moments as both parties gazed at each other from across the ravaged battlefield. Smoke was still rising from the ground around them; the air stank of burned flesh. Tim had barely taken a step forward when the man standing beside their siblings drew his bow sharply, aiming an arrow at Tim. Or at least, Lauren thought it was a man at first; it looked like one from the chest up, but from the waist down it looked like his torso had been grafted onto the body of a horse.

    ¡°Quick-footed devil!¡± he roared, eliciting shouts of alarm from the rest of their siblings. ¡°Are you responsible for this accursed infestation? Speak!¡±

    Tim looked aghast. ¡°What? No! Why would I help you get rid of them if I caused it?¡±

    ¡°Do not ask me to understand the machinations of a servant of darkness!¡± the creature shouted.

    Jon leapt forward, pushing his bow down so forcefully that the arrow was launched into the mud. ¡°Calm down, Robin Hood! They¡¯re not the dark gods we were telling you about. These are our siblings, Tim and Lauren. The ones who disappeared in the storm.¡±

    The horse-man straightened up with a look of mingled shock and dawning comprehension. ¡°Oh! My apologies, I merely thought ¡ª¡±

    But no one seemed to care much for what he thought. Completely ignoring him, both Oscar and Haley dashed forward, Haley flinging her arms around Lauren, Oscar grabbing Tim in a one-armed hug. In her enthusiasm Haley almost bowled Lauren over as she tackled her, but Lauren managed to hold herself upright as her younger sister let out a shriek of relief that pierced the night. ¡°Where have you guys been? We were worried sick!¡±

    ¡°I never doubted you for a second,¡± Oscar said, ruffling Tim¡¯s hair. Though he was caked with mud and splotches of a strange green ooze whose origins Lauren would rather not know, Tim looked mightily pleased with himself. ¡°I knew you guys could handle yourselves fine.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s been a mess, actually,¡± Tim said brightly. ¡°That storm was a nightmare. But we managed to ride it out.¡±

    They looked around at Jon, who had come to a halt just behind them. Lauren braced herself for another assault of affection, but Jon did no such thing. On the contrary, he gave Tim a sharp punch on the shoulder.

    ¡°Ow!¡±

    ¡°What were you thinking, you moron?¡± he snarled. ¡°We were right in front of you, you could have just waited for us to get to you!¡±

    ¡°Nice to see you¡¯re okay too,¡± Tim grumbled, rubbing his shoulder. ¡°And it didn¡¯t look like you were going to make it anyway. I didn¡¯t want to split up either, but it seemed like the only way we were all going to make it out in one piece.¡±

    ¡°Sounds to me like you just rolled over and gave up!¡±

    Looking deeply affronted, Tim opened his mouth in protest, but before he had even got the words out, Oscar had stepped in between them and thrown up his hands to separate them. ¡°How about we stop the zombie apocalypse first, then we can get back to the family cage match. Deal?¡±

    Jon and Tim glared at each other, but both spoke in unison: ¡°Fine.¡±

    ¡°Right, how many of those things are there?¡± Haley asked.

    ¡°A lot,¡± Tim replied. ¡°And there are more coming. We saw them when we were on our way here. We ¡ª¡± Tim exchanged an uncomfortable glance with Lauren. ¡°We have a theory that these are actually people who died in the hurricane. That their bodies were reincarnated to be used as weapons.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s disgusting,¡± Lauren said, her eyes burning. ¡°That hurricane battered the city relentlessly for almost a week, then they had to top it off by desecrating the very people they killed.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not just that,¡± Haley added. ¡°The zombies killed some of the centaurs in the camp, and then they just¡­ got up and joined them. What could be causing this?¡±

    ¡°I might have a theory.¡± The half-man, half-horse hybrid had trotted up to them, his tail swishing. Lauren jumped; she had completely forgotten he was there.

    ¡°Oh right,¡± said Oscar, a look of realization dawning on his face. ¡°Tim, Lauren, this is the centaur chief, Sunder. He was kind enough to let us shelter in his camp for the past few days. Sunder, these are Lauren and Tim, otherwise known as the goddess of memory and god of speed.¡±

    Sunder bowed to them. Tim gave an awkward little wave and Lauren nodded. So that¡¯s what he was: a centaur. She had only ever heard of these creatures, and the few stories she had heard usually painted them as rowdy and rather vulgar.

    ¡°I believe I may know what¡¯s causing the plague. This fog, and the fungus spreading over the wildlife, they¡¯re as unnatural as the storm itself. I would bet that whoever is manipulating the bodies established their control over them using that fog.¡±

    ¡°Even if we know what¡¯s causing it, it doesn¡¯t help us to stop it,¡± Lauren said. ¡°We need a plan.¡±

    ¡°I think I might have a way to combat the infection. Lady Haley and I have been doing some work to restore areas of the forest that were dying. Yesterday we encountered a sicklesap tree and managed to nurse it back to health. The sap has extraordinary magical properties, including cleansing the body of impurities. It unfortunately won¡¯t restore the victims¡¯ lives, but it should at least cut the connection between the bodies and the dark magic inhabiting them.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the best we can do right now,¡± said Jon. ¡°How do we get the sicklesap?¡±

    ¡°We took most of it to the healers¡¯ huts, but the ghouls have already been there.¡± He turned and pointed into the distance, where the remnants of a cabin met their eyes, smoke curling from the wreckage. ¡°I did bring some back to my own quarters though. If they haven¡¯t already been through there, then it¡¯s our best chance. I shall go and retrieve it.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll never get past those things alone,¡± said a new voice. Lauren looked around and received a slight shock to see that there was yet another member of their party, standing some ways away from them, over the body of a fallen comrade by the looks of it. Her skin was a vivid shade of green. Lauren had thought it was some weird trick of the light, but nope, she was very much the colour of a fresh head of cabbage, and she was currently wiping tears from her eyes. ¡°They¡¯ll kill you, Sunder.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll go with him,¡± Tim said. ¡°I¡¯m pretty handy at getting people out of tight spots in a flash.¡± He tried to project a confident appearance, but Lauren had a feeling he was just getting better at hiding his fear. Zombies were a whole new low among the roster of supernatural horrors they had faced in their very short time in the world of magic and mystery, and the bar was already halfway towards the earth¡¯s crust.

    ¡°I¡¯m going too,¡± said Jon. ¡°We¡¯ve seen the type of choices he makes under pressure, someone with a brain has to be there.¡±

    A smile curved Tim¡¯s lips. ¡°Are you worried about me?¡±

    ¡°I think we should all go, in fact,¡± Jon said, pretending that he hadn¡¯t heard a word. ¡°We shouldn¡¯t be splitting up again.¡±

    A series of moans and low growls crossed the air. Through the trees ahead, shrouded in the same impossibly thick fog, they could see more figures flickering through the dense branches as another wave of zombies approached.

    ¡°Let¡¯s take this conversation on the road, shall we?¡± Oscar said urgently. With nods and murmurs of agreement, they turned and hurried off in the opposite direction, following the lead of the centaur chief. They just couldn¡¯t catch a break. After spending five days trapped in a horrific storm, feasting on stale and soggy food and having to flee all over the city when their temporary dwellings were flooded, now they were running for their lives from a horde of literal zombies. How did this become their lives?

    The centaur chief led them to his cabin, which was situated further in the forest than most of the other buildings. Luckily it was still perfectly in tact, and it seemed to be larger than the other cabins by a significant margin.

    Not even bothering to turn the doorknob, Sunder rose up on his hind legs and kicked open the door. As they entered, Jon threw up his hands and lights flooded from his palms, perfectly illuminating the interior. For a fleeting moment, Lauren wished Jon would snuff out the lights so that she didn¡¯t have to keep looking at the sights that had met their eyes. The walls were plastered with the pelts of different animals, as well as what seemed to be the chief¡¯s idea of some kind of trophies: heads of lions and bears, the beaks of eagles, deer antlers, and more. The floor was covered entirely in damp straw, and a strong scent of musk drifted unpleasantly through the room.

    ¡°In the other room,¡± Sunder said. They moved to the room beyond, which was evidently a mixture of Sunder¡¯s kitchen and bathroom. Ignoring the smell emanating from the rightmost corner, they set their sights on the cupboards stretching along the front wall. ¡°The containers we need have a viscous green fluid inside,¡± said Sunder.

    While Jon provided the lightning, everyone else set to work scouring the cupboards. Unfortunately the process was like finding a needle in a haystack. The cupboards were stacked with dozens of pails, all containing fluids of varying colours, and even more inconveniently, some of them were various shades of the same colour. When both Tim and Oscar resurfaced with buckets of bright green liquids, Sunder insisted that the one they were looking for was darker than either shade presented, and they set back to work.

    They had been at it for a few minutes when without warning, the windows just above them shattered and both Lauren and the green-skinned woman screamed, having been just underneath it. Blackened, scaly-looking hands were poking through the holes in the glass. Jon turned his hand upon the windows and the beam of light projecting from his hands increased in intensity. The zombies retracted their hands with hisses of anguish.

    ¡°Found one!¡± Tim cried a moment later. ¡°Wait nope ¡ª that¡¯s teal, not green¡­ Ah, here it is!¡±

    ¡°I found two,¡± Haley said, comparing the colour of her findings with Tim¡¯s.

    ¡°Me too,¡± said Oscar.

    The zombies had returned, trying to climb into the house through the open windows.

    ¡°Out, out!¡± Jon yelled. Cradling their found vials, they scrambled back through the door they had come. Tim sped out ahead of them, using his giant hammer to clear the stray zombies that had crept inside out of the way, but it was hardly any use. The cabin was surrounded. Lauren tried to count how many of them there were and decided it was no use. The answer was simply way too many.

    Haley forced her way to the front of the group and thrust her hands out towards the ground. A powerful tremor ran through the ground, knocking the zombies off their feet. With another wave of her hand, Haley split the ground around them, creating a massive chasm that separated them from their attackers.

    But whatever sense of logic their hosts might have possessed in life, the zombies had certainly lost them.

    They kept running towards them despite the enormous pit separating them, then falling like ragdolls into the enormous moat.

    ¡°They¡¯re like rabid dogs,¡± Tim said in an almost wondering tone.

    ¡°Their minds are blank slates,¡± said Sunder, looking down at them in pity. ¡°Their purpose is to destroy, and that¡¯s all they know.¡±

    ¡°How much sicklesap is needed for this?¡± Tim asked.

    ¡°Impossible to know for certain, but a few spoonfuls usually does wonders for centaurs.¡±

    Tim¡¯s eyebrows furrowed. Lauren glanced at him and smirked. She knew that look: he had an idea.

    ¡°Does the sap have to be ingested?¡±

    ¡°Not necessarily, no. Why do you ask?¡±

    ¡°Does it happen to be flammable?¡±

    ¡°W-what? Why would you need to know that?¡±

    ¡°Just answer the question!¡±

    ¡°Well yes. Most tree sap isn¡¯t, but sicklesap contains aromatic oils, which make it highly flammable.¡±

    Before anyone could really process what had happened, Tim had circled their group in a blur of sapphire and snatched the buckets out of their hands. Once he had collected them all he looked around at Jon. ¡°Can you make your rays hot enough to start a fire?¡±

    ¡°Do you swallow bugs every time you run?¡±

    ¡°Follow my lead,¡± said Tim, and he lifted two buckets and rushed off, leaping across the great divide Haley had created. He raced around the edge of the pit, the contents of the first bucket sloshing onto the zombies below, who hissed and screeched in fury. An eruption of light suddenly burst through the darkness around them. Lauren¡¯s hands instinctively flew up to cover her face and, squinting, she looked around at Jon, who was blazing like a bonfire. Immense beams of orange light burst from his hands and streaked into the pit just as Tim zoomed away. For a few seconds nothing happened, then the zombies began to shriek, clawing at the edges of the pit as flames blossomed within. They were orange at first, but as they burned they slowly changed to a bright, vibrant green.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    They watched in awe as first, Tim lathered the zombies with sap, then Jon set them ablaze. Soon most of their vision was obscured by immense plumes of acid green flames, which were spreading steadily across the grounds. The zombies who had been caught by the flames screamed and screamed, then, slowly, they fell to the ground, withering under the intense heat, and they did not rise again.

    ¡°The whole camp is going to be destroyed at this rate,¡± the green-skinned woman said.

    ¡°It¡¯s already been destroyed Vera,¡± Sunder said, his voice heavy. ¡°Sometimes to save the ones you love, you must be willing to make sacrifices.¡±

    Though the circumstances were horrible, Lauren found the flames strangely beautiful. She could have stared at them for hours, but Tim suddenly appeared in front of them, bringing with him a gust of wind that sent her hair flying all about her head.

    ¡°I¡¯m out of sap,¡± he said urgently. ¡°And there are more coming.¡±

    ¡°That settles it, we have to get out of here,¡± said Lauren.

    ¡°No!¡± Haley cried. ¡°We can¡¯t leave, not now!¡±

    ¡°We have to. Don¡¯t you get it: we¡¯re the ones who did this. The Harbingers brought the storm because of us ¡ª an entire city was destroyed, people were killed, and now they¡¯re being used as puppets to torment us. We brought this at these people¡¯s doorsteps, we have to get out of here now before we end up making things even worse.¡±

    ¡°She is correct, My Lady,¡± Sunder said before Haley could protest. ¡°Your adversaries have demonstrated that they¡¯re willing to go to great lengths in their pursuit of you, and they have no concern for whose lives they uproot in the process. If there is somewhere safer than here that you can go to, then you must. You need to protect yourselves and those you love. But I also have a responsibility to my people.¡± The centaur had drawn himself up to his full height, looking down at them with a dour expression.

    ¡°Your assistance has been greatly appreciated over the past few days, but it would not be fair to the people of this forest if your presence continues to invite such danger. If fate permits it, perhaps we can meet again under different circumstances, but for now you must leave.¡±

    ¡°What about you? What about everyone else?¡±

    ¡°We are not totally useless, you know,¡± said Sunder, with a wry smile. ¡°We may not be able to create earthquakes, but we can still defend ourselves. And if all else fails, we shall run. There are plenty of hiding places in this forest. Worry for yourself, not us.¡±

    Haley clearly didn¡¯t agree with this sentiment, but she didn¡¯t argue. She nodded and briefly grasped Sunder¡¯s hand. ¡°Once this is all over, I promise I¡¯ll come back. I really want to help you save this forest, to do all the things you told me I could do. The way you described it to me.¡±

    Sunder beamed at her. Then he nodded and released her hand. ¡°I believe you can, with or without me. Now go.¡±

    With obvious reluctance, Haley turned and climbed onto Skylar¡¯s back, just behind Jon. Oscar followed, then Tim and Lauren.

    ¡°Woah, I didn¡¯t think we could all fit up here,¡± Oscar said, examining their seating arrangement. Not only did they all fit, it seemed they actually had space to hold at least two more.

    ¡°Venti can actually expand up to several feet,¡± Jon explained. ¡°Sytris told me. Something about inflating themselves by absorbing the wind around them or ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yeah yeah, very fascinating, but can we go please!¡± Tim yelled, gesturing to their right. A new wave of zombies was approaching, as haggard and gruesome as the others. Jon cracked the reins and Skylar took off across the battered lands. The herd of zombies continued to gain on them, approaching at speed, but just before they closed in Skylar took a giant leap and began to climb through the air.

    Lauren took one last look at the ground below: at zombies parading through the camp, centaurs retreating, and Sunder hauling tail out of sight as the bodies followed him deeper into the forest. Her vision was obstructed by the tree branches, then she turned around, exhaling through her nose.

    She had had very bad memories flying on Skylar. Last time she was up here she was being chased by a relentless army of gargoyles. But then, at least, she had been with Sytris¡­.

    And then, without warning, the emotions she had tried so desperately to suppress for the past few hours came bubbling to the surface. Her eyes stung with tears that she rapidly tried to blink away, unwilling to let any of her siblings notice them, but she soon realized she didn¡¯t have to worry about that. Everyone was too busy catching up on what they had missed, clearly trying to put the memory of what they had just witnessed to the back of their minds.

    ¡°So what have you guys been getting up to?¡± Oscar asked Tim over the rushing wind.

    ¡°Mostly been camping out at abandoned locations,¡± he yelled back. ¡°Running all over town trying to find ways to get out of the city, but everywhere was flooded. I did ended up finding another magical being though, his name was Akna. Turns out not everyone magical is a monster.  We ended up fighting some giant worms together. He¡¯s the one who helped us pinpoint your location. The storm cleared up right after and we came straight here.¡±

    ¡°Giant worms huh? Sounds fun,¡± Jon said dryly. ¡°And you?¡± he added, looking around at Lauren. ¡°Anything interesting happen?¡±

    The real answer was that her experiences had been a little too interesting for her taste, but unwilling to let herself be reduced to a blubbering, red-faced mess in midair, she merely said, ¡°I¡¯ll tell you about it later,¡± in a tone of obvious finality. A few seconds of awkward silence spiraled, but no one challenged her statement.

    ¡°Well, while you were off playing with overgrown grub, we were trying to find you,¡± Haley said. ¡°But it was impossible to see anything in that storm. And that was without the giant, steel-beaked birds and gargoyles that tried to kill us while we were flying.¡±

    ¡°Glad to know everyone got their fair share of excitement,¡± Tim said sarcastically. ¡°What¡¯s the ETA on Sytris¡¯s new safehouse? That¡¯s where we¡¯re headed right?¡±

    ¡°We should be coming up to it soon, according to this,¡± said Oscar, who was glancing at the map Sytris had handed them.

    The ventus was going lower and lower. It was a relief to think that they would finally be leaving the air soon, but Lauren dreaded the conversation they would ultimately have to have once they touched ground. But¡­ nothing around them indicated that a safehouse was nearby. Vast, empty fields of grass flew by underneath them, surrounded by nothing but endless rolling hills and wild, unchecked woods. After nearly half an hour, however, Skylar began to dive and they came to a halt in the middle of the woods, just in front of a rundown old cabin.

    Everyone stared up at it, then in unison looked down at the map Oscar was still holding, whose path was marked with a trail of gold from the mansion to what was labeled the ¡°White Toad Glades.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding me,¡± Lauren said.

    Oscar cocked his head to the side, then began to turn the map in different directions as though determined to spot something that ruled out the possibility. When no such marker appeared, he said in a tone of great bewilderment, ¡°Nope, this is it.¡±

    ¡°Not winning any points for glamor, is it?¡± Haley asked, crinkling her nose.

    ¡°Who knows, maybe he thought we were going to use the mansion for longer than a literal week, so he didn¡¯t get around to much housekeeping for the other locations.¡±

    ¡°Honestly, it doesn¡¯t really matter, does it?¡± Tim said, with a bite of impatience. ¡°I know we were starting to get used to the mansion, but luxury isn¡¯t the main focus. Safety is. So can we please go inside before the universe decides to send some fire-breathing skunk-dragon hybrid or something since the zombies didn¡¯t work?¡±

    Though still clearly unconvinced, they moved in unison up the stairs. They creaked ominously with every step. The cabin door had a small knocker in the shape of what looked like a pegasus. Oscar reached out tentatively and knocked.

    A musical chime rang out in the depths of the cabin and the door opened of its own accord.

    The interior of the cabin at least was far more welcoming than its exterior. It was composed of thick logs of oak wood, gleaming gently in the watery sunlight. It was also much larger than it appeared at first glance; the living room was as vast as the mansion¡¯s, and lit by a fiercely burning fire in a handsome marble fireplace. There were pictures of children lining the walls, pictures of¡­ them. Not as they had come to know themselves, raised in the embrace of their mortal parents. But them as they had been in their time in Algyria.

    All at once the group scattered, rushing to the walls to view the immortalized scenes of their past. Lauren snatched up a picture of a dark-haired youth that bore a strong resemblance to Jon, gleefully flying through the air as he was chased by an exasperated man that looked like an older, more mature version of Oscar.

    He had the same curly black hair, the same facial structure, but he was far more thickset, wearing a resplendent white and gold tunic with a thick beared. This man¡­

    Lauren traced her fingers across his face, her mouth falling open as the realization of who he was struck her like a brick. Razen, God of the Morning Sky.

    She turned around and saw Haley, holding up a picture of what was obviously her younger self, clad in a bright green dress and holding her hands around Tim¡¯s head, which was wrapped in a wreath of flowers. Tim was smiling as widely as if someone had told him Christmas was coming early, but he wasn¡¯t wearing glasses. Perhaps he hadn¡¯t needed them at this point in time. Unobstructed by the heavy black spectacles, his hazel-brown eyes shone as bright as the midday sun.

    ¡°Oh my God,¡± Jon breathed. He was holding a picture of a beautiful woman with flowing reddish-brown hair. Her dress was pale blue, dotted with twinkling snowflakes, and she was holding a scepter made entirely of ice. Their mother, Cyclomene, Goddess of Ice and Snow.

    ¡°He saved these?¡±

    ¡°He left them here for us,¡± Haley said breathlessly, cradling the photograph in her hands as though it were a newborn child. Her eyes unfocused, as if she wasn¡¯t really seeing the room at all. She absentmindedly wandered towards the dark brown sofa stretched along the back wall of the room and began to take in all the details of the photo she was holding.

    Lauren too looked down at her photograph, at the exasperated look on her father¡¯s face, which was the spitting image of his firstborn, who was currently gazing open-mouthed at the other pictures hung along the walls. Her stomach churned.

    The tears were coming again. She hurriedly stashed the photo on the table in front of them and rushed into the kitchen area. ¡°Anyone hungry?¡± she said as she went by, keeping her face out of view.

    She barely heard her siblings¡¯ replies as she stumbled into the kitchen, fighting against the well of sadness threatening to spill over and consume her. Lauren tried to preoccupy herself with her task at hand, sorting through the cupboards. They were as well-stocked as the ones in the mansion, equipped with pristine pots, pans, and bowls, and as wide a variety of ingredients as their other safehouse had boasted. She prepared five sandwiches, trying to recall the various ways everyone else requested theirs. Tim didn¡¯t have a strong preference for toppings, but liked his sandwiches without crust; Jon wasn¡¯t a fan of mayo; Oscar would eat anything as long as it came with two-three layers; and Haley took hers with copious amounts of ketchup.

    It took her almost twenty minutes but once she was done she stacked everything neatly onto a tray, took a deep breath, and headed back out.

    Jon had set down the photographs and was reclining on the sofa beside Haley with his eyes closed. ¡°I wonder how long this one is going to last,¡± he was saying. ¡°Another week? Two days?¡±

    ¡°Please don¡¯t jinx it,¡± Haley retorted. ¡°I always hated when my parents forced us to move around so often.¡±

    ¡°You had to move a lot?¡± asked Lauren, handing out the sandwiches.

    ¡°Does six times in the last eight years count as ¡®a lot¡¯?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not the only one,¡± Jon said, still with his eyes closed.

    ¡°Oh yeah? Do tell,¡± Haley said, setting down the picture and sitting upright with the sharpest interest.

    Jon seemed to contemplate the request for a moment, then he gave a slight shrug as if to say, ¡°Why not.¡±

    ¡°After my mom died, my dad and I never stayed anywhere for too long. Nothing ever felt quite right. The house, the neighbourhood, the neighbours. There was always something, and my dad always hated it. He said there was always something missing, so every now and then he uprooted our whole lives in search of it. In the end, it was obvious that what he thought was missing was my mom, but I don¡¯t think he ever realized that changing houses was never going to fill the void she left behind.¡±

    Dead silence met his words. Though Jon was still relaxing on the sofa with his eyes closed, speaking as serenely as though they were discussing the evening weather forecast, uncomfortable looks were exchanged through the room.

    When the silence had spiraled on for a few more seconds Jon seemed unable to ignore the situation any longer and opened his eyes with a sigh of exasperation. ¡°My mom died years ago. Of course I still miss her, but it¡¯s not like it was when I was little. So can we please skip the part where we try to set up a group therapy session? Let¡¯s focus on the matter at hand, shall we?¡±

    ¡°If you say so,¡± Oscar said. ¡°And speaking of the matter at hand¡­ we got our asses handed to us. No shame in admitting it.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure? Because I¡¯m feeling a lot of shame. You know, mostly around this region.¡± Tim waved a hand vaguely over his heart.

    ¡°You know what, that¡¯s fine. A little shame can be good for you, Timothy,¡± said Oscar. ¡°But we shouldn¡¯t beat ourselves up about it. The Harbingers are older and more experienced. Besides they caught us by surprise. What we need is a plan of action. Find out their weakness and use them against them.¡±

    ¡°Are you kidding?¡± Lauren said incredulously. ¡°I thought it was obvious: the plan is to put as much distance between us and them as possible.¡±

    Everyone looked around at her in sheer disbelief.

    ¡°Why are you all looking at me like that? We¡¯re not cut out for this. Gargoyles, demon healthcare workers, a magic hurricane, literal zombies, and who knows what else! I refuse to take part in this any longer.¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t run from it, that¡¯s the problem,¡± Jon said. ¡°Sytris spent years preparing safehouses for us, our parents kept us separated our whole lives, even the memories of our childhoods were wiped away, all to keep us safe, and none of it worked! There¡¯s no running from this.¡±

    ¡°If you want to spend the rest of your lives running from safehouse to safehouse when monsters inevitably come breaking down the door, that¡¯s fine for all of you. I know I may never lead a ¡®normal¡¯ life again after all this, but at the very least I want to have a safe one. I was never cut out to be a warrior goddess.¡±

    She looked around at her siblings as she spoke: Tim, who looked like a child caught between arguing parents; Haley flabbergasted; Jon furious; Oscar, strangely blank.

    ¡°What makes you think that even if you do try that, it¡¯ll work out fine and dandy?¡± Jon said loudly. ¡°The Harbingers found us not once, but twice. How could you possibly think you can run away from this?¡±

    ¡°The fact that Sytris¡¯s head is lying in a pool of blood ten feet away from the rest of him!¡± Lauren shrieked.

    Even as the words left her lips she felt a terrible chill run down her spine. She could tell that Jon had been waiting for her to respond so that he could hurl something savage back at her, but she pinpointed the exact moment her words fully registered in his mind and saw the understanding dawn in his eyes, saw him yank his tongue back into his mouth, which was now hanging wide open. Haley and Oscar were staring at her in utter disbelief.

    ¡°What?¡± Haley said, so quietly that Lauren had to strain her ears to hear.

    Lauren¡¯s chest was heaving. This wasn¡¯t the way she had wanted to deliver the news. There was never going to be a right way or a right time to tell them, but if there was ever a wrong way this was easily at the bottom of the barrel.

    ¡°What is this?¡± Haley demanded, and she looked around at Tim, who had suddenly developed a deep interest in the wood below their feet. ¡°What is she talking about?¡±

    Tim didn¡¯t respond, but they distinctly heard him suck in a very deep breath.

    ¡°This is a new low, Lauren, even for you.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    ¡°If you want to run and hide like a coward, that¡¯s your choice. But to make up something so awful, so absurd ¡ª just so you can make yourself not look as bad ¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s true,¡± said Tim¡¯s soft voice. Haley froze in her tracks. Slowly she craned her head to look at him, eyes bright. His eyes were still trained on the floor.

    ¡°No it¡¯s not,¡± Jon said, shaking his head. ¡°It can¡¯t be true.¡±

    ¡°That must be so easy for you to say,¡± said Lauren, her voice shaking with the weight of her anger, her grief. ¡°Seeing as you weren¡¯t the one who had to watch it happen. Goddess of Memory, remember? While you were off playing hero with barnyard animals trying to save the forest, I had relive the whole thing. The torture, him refusing to tell them anything, and Erymithia lopping his head off with her scythe. So believe it, don¡¯t believe it ¡ª it doesn¡¯t matter. If you want to follow his lead that¡¯s your business, but I won¡¯t.¡± She turned and strode straight through the door, slamming it behind her.

 Chapter 24: Resolution

    A ringing silence followed Lauren¡¯s departure. Oscar, Jon, and Haley had all frozen in place, mouths hanging open. They exchanged looks of horror among themselves, then all eyes found Tim, who had looked up from the floor at last. He could barely bring himself to speak, but he could tell from their expressions that they would soon regain the power of speech and demand answers, and he forced the words out.

    ¡°She was working on trying to gain some control over her powers while we were waiting out the storm. She wasn¡¯t having much luck for the most part, but after a while she managed it. Lauren ended up bringing both of us into different memories. Every detail was perfectly preserved, as if we¡¯d actually gone back in time and were reliving those moments. And¡­ while I was out trying to find a way out of the city, Lauren saw¡­¡± Tim took a deep, shuddering breath. ¡°She saw Sytris getting tortured by the Harbingers. They were trying to force him to tell them where we were and he refused. And Erymithia¡­¡±

    That was as far as he could go. Haley staggered back a few steps, then she fell haphazardly into the armchair beside the fire.

    ¡°Oh my god¡­ it¡¯s our fault. He ¡ª he died protecting us, it¡¯s our fault ¡ª¡±

    Tim watched in horror as she dissolved into tears, sobbing into her hands. Oscar rose, but Tim received yet another surprise to see that it was Jon who got there first, putting his arms around her as she wept into his collar.

    ¡°First our parents, now Sytris¡­ it¡¯s our fault¡­¡±

    Oscar folded his hands under his chin and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. Tim and Lauren had discussed the matter before they had set off in pursuit of the others, and he had had exactly the same reaction they had: disbelief first, then anger, then the crushing acceptance. He knew what would happen once they finally delivered the news, so they had tried to find an appropriate time to do so. But when was it ever appropriate to announce that someone you knew was gone? That you would never hear their voice again, that the memories you had of them were their only tether left in this world?

    ¡°What are we going to do?¡± Haley sobbed.

    It was no surprise that Haley was taking it this hard, given that she was already grieving her own father, who last they had checked was still comatose. And that was before the wretched storm. He wished he knew the answer to Haley¡¯s question, but his mind was a blank slate.

    As much as he wanted to deny it, they were effectively pinned down in every direction. Their parents had either been discovered, or else were still trapped in Sytris¡¯s old workspace, at the mercy of the Harbingers. Their caretaker, the one who had been designated to protect them, to help them understand and utilize their abilities, had been killed; a centaur camp in which they had taken refuge had either burned to the ground or been overrun by hordes of the undead by this point; and now here they were, in a random cabin in the woods, arguing amongst themselves. They were at war, and they were losing.

    Tim took an unsteady seat in the spot Jon had just vacated, looking through the fogged windows of the cabin, at the branches swaying just beyond the oak walls. Lauren was out there somewhere, but he wasn¡¯t going to find her just yet.

    After the week he had spent confined with her, he had learned that she took quite a while to cool off and until she had it was pointless trying to reason with her.

    After a few minutes of strained silence, Haley untangled herself from Jon and stood up, her eyes red and puffy. ¡°I¡¯m okay,¡± she said softly. ¡°I just ¡ª it¡¯s been a long day. I¡¯ll feel better after a nap.¡± She walked very slowly up the stairs and disappeared into the corridor beyond.

    There was silence for a few moments after she had left, then Oscar heaved a heavy sigh. ¡°What are we going to do?¡±

    ¡°What can we do?¡± said Jon. ¡°Didn¡¯t you get the memo? We¡¯re at war, with people we don¡¯t even know. They just want us dead, and they¡¯re obviously well equipped to do it.¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t just give up,¡± Tim said desperately. ¡°We already learned the hard way that running doesn¡¯t help either.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to give up, but it¡¯s not like we have any real options. We went up against them once already and they outclassed us in every way. Face it, we survived through dumb luck. I don¡¯t think round two is going to be much better than the first.¡±

    ¡°If we could just figure out what they want¡­¡± Oscar spoke in a wondering tone, his hands clasped in front of his face, eyes trained on the flickering fire. ¡°Then we would have some leverage at the very least. Maybe we could make some kind of bargain.¡±

    ¡°To be honest, they don¡¯t look much like the bargaining type,¡± said Tim. ¡°But I still think it¡¯s worth trying to figure out what they came for. Valarok called it some kind of nexus, obviously they think we have it, which is why they came knocking. But Lauren and I spent days trying to figure out what he meant, and we came up with nothing. Any ideas?¡±

    Jon and Oscar looked at each other, then shook their heads in unison. Tim huffed a sigh of his own. He had expected as much.

    ¡°We can always take a look around,¡± he suggested. ¡°There might be something around this place that can help us. If Sytris set this cabin up to be a safehouse, then there has to be more to it than this. He left us pictures of our family, maybe he left us more information about¡­ well I don¡¯t know what exactly, but it could be of some value.¡±

    Tim hoped otherwise, but the logical part of his brain disagreed. If Sytris had intended for the mansion to be their main hideout, wouldn¡¯t he have left everything they would have needed there instead?

    Still, they didn¡¯t protest as they rose in unison and began to rove around the cabin, looking through the various drawers and cupboards in the faint hope of finding something that could shed some light on their present darkness. They rifled through every compartment they could find in the kitchen, overturned some of the furniture, and scoured through the rooms above that were unlocked, but after nearly an hour of searching, they were forced to admit defeat. Sytris had left the world, and he had bequeathed to them nothing they could use against the gods who had pursued them all the way to another planet.

    There were six rooms in total, including the one Haley had shut herself up in. Each door was painted in a different colour which, Tim realized, matched the colours their divine weapons glowed with when activated.

    The door which Haley had taken refuge behind was painted sparkling silver. Down the hall from it were doors painted dark green for Lauren, scarlet for Tim sapphire, for Jon, and violet, for Oscar. But there was another door, which was most curious of all. It was painted dark brown, and looked completely ordinary.

    Oscar pushed the door open, which slid backwards with a loud creak. Of all the rooms Tim had seen in the few weeks they had spent since the truth had been revealed to them, this one was probably the most normal.

    Cardboard boxes full of old books and glassware littered the floor, clothes were half strung over dusty furniture, and dotting the few exposed spaces of the floor were small metallic instruments, all of which shone as brightly as if they had only recently bee[n crafted. One fascinating thing Sytris had taught them was that Brightsteel never deteriorated over time, so these instruments could be centuries old and their age would never show. Tim reached down and lifted a small circular object in his palm, on which hovered a tiny, metallic bird. He wound the dial and watched in amazement as the bird began to move round and round in circles, emitting a low, musical chime. Despite all that they had been through these past few days, he smiled, and a pang of sadness hit him hard in the chest.

    All that time they had spent cooped up in the mansion and not once had he ever asked Sytris exactly what he was the god of. He was clearly some kind of inventor, but they had probably never seen the true extent of his talent. And they never would.

    Behind him, Jon kicked a box out of the way, breaking him out of his reverie. ¡°Lauren¡¯s right, you know,¡± he said, suddenly angry. ¡°We¡¯re screwed.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe that,¡± Tim said defiantly.

    ¡°You don¡¯t want to believe it, but it doesn¡¯t make it any less true. How are we supposed to stop these guys? Our first fight with them was a disaster, and that was after our so-called training lessons. And there¡¯s nothing here except mounds of old junk!¡±

    ¡°They caught us by surprise. At the end of the day we made it out of there, didn¡¯t we? We may not have won but we held our own, right?¡± Tim looked at Oscar hopefully, waiting for support that did not come. Their older brother was determinedly looking in the other direction.

    ¡°If the big guy didn¡¯t show up when he did we would have ended up as puppy chow for that hag¡¯s mutts. Who are we kidding, man? We¡¯re in over our heads. I know it, Lauren knows it, Haley knows it, and he knows it too.¡± He stabbed a finger at the back of Oscar¡¯s head.

    Tim set the chirping instrument down and the twittering died immediately. He sank down on the edge of Sytris¡¯s bed, deflating. He wanted to argue, but what was the point? Everything Jon was saying was true, as much as he didn¡¯t want to hear it. The Harbingers were simply too powerful, and divine or not, they were just kids.

    ¡°Not necessarily,¡± said Oscar¡¯s voice. Tim lifted his head very slowly, not daring to hope. ¡°Regardless of what happened, we never fought at our best. Maybe if we fought together like we were supposed to, then it could have ended differently.¡±

    ¡°You really think so?¡± Jon asked scathingly, his thick eyebrows contracting. ¡°That¡¯s the angle you¡¯re going with? The power of love and family?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, actually,¡± Oscar said fiercely. ¡°It wasn¡¯t just the fact that they¡¯re more experienced why they won, it¡¯s because they were working together. We weren¡¯t. We split up, we let them gain the advantage over us. We went against the very first lesson Sytris taught us: if we fight, we do it together. If we win, we win together. And if we lose¡­ well we might as well do that together too.¡±

    A tiny smile curved Tim¡¯s lips. He looked at Jon, absentmindly adjusting the tip of his glasses. Jon was shaking his head, looking from one to the other as though he thought they belonged in an asylum. ¡°You two are unbelievable. You¡¯d be setting yourselves up to get killed.¡±This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    ¡°What¡¯s the alternative?¡± Oscar asked. ¡°They¡¯re going to find us anyway, you said that yourself. You can take your flying horse and run but you¡¯ll only get so far¡­ You¡¯re right, you know. This may be a sinking boat, but it sure beats drowning alone, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    Jon glared at him so fiercely that for a moment Tim thought he might storm off just as Lauren had. But Jon merely shook his head and exhaled, all the steam he had built up slowly evaporating.

    ¡°Fine. All I¡¯m asking is that if we¡¯re going to do this, then we at least do it smart.¡±

    Oscar nodded, then he held out his hand with a smile. Reluctantly, Jon shook it.

    ¡°What about the girls though?¡±

    ¡°Haley just needs some time,¡± said Tim, rising from the bed. ¡°She¡¯ll pull through in the end. As for Lauren¡­ leave that to me.¡±

    ¡°And what are you going to do?¡±

    ¡°What any little brother would: annoy her into helping us. I¡¯ll be back in a few.¡± And with that he was gone, whooshing through the door and leaving behind a harsh gust of wind that sent an old newspaper reeling into Jon¡¯s face.

    <hr>

    It wasn¡¯t hard to find Lauren after that. It was obvious that, despite needing time alone, Lauren was still extremely cautious of the forest. After what they had been through recently Tim couldn¡¯t blame her; he himself couldn¡¯t suppress a nagging feeling that the very trees around them would suddenly spring to life and attack them. But everything remained as still and silent as ever as he waded through the dark woods, and eventually he found her in a small clearing, skipping stones across a murky lake. His abrupt halt caused another great rush of wind that sent her hair whipping wildly about her head, but by now she was so used to it that she had no reaction whatsoever.

    ¡°I would prefer to be alone, if you don¡¯t mind.¡±

    ¡°I do mind, actually,¡± Tim said. He plopped himself onto the grass beside her, staring out at the gloomy lake. ¡°I don¡¯t think any of us should really be alone right now.¡±

    Lauren exhaled through her nose. ¡°You¡¯re not going to convince me that this is a fight worth fighting.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to try. But whether we want to fight or not, the fact remains: the Harbingers aren¡¯t going to just let us ride off into the sunset and go back to our regular lives. They¡¯re hunting us. We don¡¯t know why, but they made it very clear that they want us gone. We¡¯ll never be safe until we find a way to deal with them.¡±

    Lauren¡¯s hand froze in midair just as she was about to launch another stone. She wheeled to face him, nostrils flaring. ¡°How? What exactly is your big plan? If they killed Sytris, then what do you think they¡¯re going to do to us?¡±

    ¡°Sytris was alone when he fought them. And right to the very end he never backed down. He gave his life so that we could be safe. It¡¯d be an insult to his memory to waste the chance he gave us on running away with our tails between our legs, looking over our shoulders for the rest of our lives.¡±

    ¡°Tim ¡ª¡± Lauren sounded positively exasperated.

    ¡°What¡¯s the alternative?¡± he spoke over her. ¡°Run? Where? A nice town up north maybe. And then what? That town gets destroyed by another freak storm, or maybe overrun by a horde of zombies too. Wherever we go they¡¯ll find us, sooner or later. How many more innocent people have to die in the crossfire?¡±

    Lauren didn¡¯t answer for a moment. Then she released her grip on the stone and sent it sailing across the water. ¡°I really hate you sometimes,¡± she said quietly. She turned to face him yet again, expression unreadable. ¡°We¡¯d be walking headfirst to our deaths.¡±

    ¡°Not if we plan properly. Now we know what we¡¯re dealing with, we have the chance to make actual preparations.¡±

    ¡°What good is preparation going to be against those freaks? Have you not been keeping up? The oldest of the trio created a hurricane that lasted a whole week, which devastated an entire city. Then they revived the very people they killed to use them as weapons. That¡¯s the kind of nightmare fuel people use to make movies, except it¡¯s not fiction this time. We¡¯re out of our depths.¡±

    ¡°I know you¡¯re scared, but what other choice do we have? Let them find us again? Leave our parents as sitting ducks, completely at their mercy? At what point do we take the initiative?¡±

    ¡°You think I like the idea of my mom and dad being trapped with those monsters?¡± she said fiercely. ¡°But who knows? If the Harbingers haven¡¯t found them yet, then they¡¯re probably safer where they are than anywhere else. Only we know how to get through Sytris¡¯s magic mirror. What if we try to rescue them and make things even worse?¡±

    ¡°Or what if we try and end up making things better? There¡¯s no way of knowing until we actually try. We can either sit back and let the Harbingers wreak more havoc on our lives, or we can take the offensive and give ourselves a fighting chance. Neither of them sounds like good options, but I know which one sounds better. Don¡¯t you?¡±

    Lauren rolled her eyes so hard that Tim could almost hear them rattle in their sockets. Shaking her head, she sighed and said, ¡°If I die because of you, you are not welcome in my afterlife.¡±

    ¡°You know you don¡¯t mean that,¡± Tim said, smiling. He gently bumped his shoulder against hers and she bumped back. ¡°At least now we can have an actual conversation without having to worry about drowning.¡±

    ¡°The day is still young,¡± Lauren said in a resigned voice.

    ¡°Ready to head back?¡±

    Lauren didn¡¯t respond immediately. ¡°Just a few more minutes. Just a few more minutes of peace and normalcy before we have to go back to our lives being completely and utterly screwed up.¡±

    So they waited a few more minutes, listening to the odd sounds emanating from the forest, watching birds caress the skimpy figures of the clouds with their wings, and a doe lead her fawns across the forest as they kicked and jumped playfully, not a care in the world. He would have given anything to be able to freeze time in that moment, to enjoy the serenity of it for just a little longer, but far too soon Lauren sat up and dusted off her jeans, and they made their way back to the cabin.

    <hr>

    When they arrived, they found Jon and Oscar once again sitting on opposite sides of the sofa. Haley hadn¡¯t returned, but the duo looked up as they entered. Lauren made eye contact with them for a split second and then averted her gaze, looking down at the floor as she mumbled, ¡°I¡¯m sorry for what I said earlier. I was wrong, and to be honest, I was scared. The prospects are dark in whatever direction we look, but that was no reason to take it out on you guys.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s all good,¡± said Oscar, smiling faintly. ¡°It was easier to believe that you were making it up than to accept that¡­ It doesn¡¯t matter; call it even?¡±

    Lauren nodded and took a seat on the sofa between them.

    ¡°So what do we now?¡± Jon asked. ¡°We still have no clue how to deal with these guys.¡±

    ¡°Maybe we could¡­¡± Tim began and then he faltered.

    ¡°Maybe we could what?¡±

    ¡°Forget it, it¡¯s stupid.¡±

    ¡°Come on, at least let us hear it,¡± Oscar chimed in. ¡°We¡¯ve got nothing. I¡¯ll take anything at this point.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ maybe we could try talking to them again.¡±

    ¡°Anything except that,¡± Jon corrected, staring at him as though worried for his sanity. ¡°Are you out of your mind?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just saying. They think we have something they want, if we can convince them that we don¡¯t have it maybe they¡¯ll leave us alone. You said it yourself, you had a conversation with Valarok at the hospital and he didn¡¯t try to attack you or anything. What if we can reason with them?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure we all admire your hopeless optimism, Tim,¡± Lauren said, in a tone of forced patience, ¡°but this is out of the question. They destroyed our home, killed Sytris, flooded a whole city and then set a plague of zombies on us like rabid dogs. There¡¯s absolutely no place left for dialogue in this situation.¡±

    ¡°But ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Nope, no buts,¡± said Jon. ¡°And you are banned from contributing to this discussion until further notice. You sit there in shame and think about what you just said.¡±

    Tim sat back in his chair, folding his arms and rolling his eyes beneath his glasses.

    ¡°Any other bright ideas?¡±

    ¡°Yes, actually.¡±

    Everyone looked around. Haley had appeared at the doorway, sounding as though she had a bad head cold. ¡°Our parents.¡±

    A palpable tautness spread through the room. Everyone sat up, tense.

    ¡°We don¡¯t know what happened to them. Whether they¡¯re still trapped in that room, of if they were¡­¡± She seemed unable to complete the horrible thought. ¡°We have to find out if they¡¯re okay and get them out.¡±

    ¡°And let¡¯s say we do, what then?¡± Jon asked.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t agree in the beginning, but Sytris was right. They¡¯re not safe around us.¡±

    ¡°So what are you suggesting?¡± Haley asked incredulously.

    ¡°I¡¯m suggesting that until this all blows over, they lie low for a while. Have you seen the kind of crazy we¡¯ve been dealing with recently? What if the Harbingers decide that next time instead of rain, it¡¯d be funnier to burn a whole city down? What if we get act 2 of the zombie apocalypse and they decide to cast our parents in leading roles? Would you be able to incinerate their corpses with sicklesap? Because I wouldn¡¯t!¡±

    No one moved. No one spoke. For an uncomfortably long period, the only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire.

    ¡°Lets¡¯ just cross that bridge when we come to it, okay?¡± Haley said in a rather small voice. Jon shook his head but otherwise made no protest.

    ¡°The main objective right now is finding out if they¡¯re okay,¡± Tim said tentatively, wondering if his ban had been lifted yet. ¡°So¡­ how do we do that?¡±

    ¡°At this rate, it looks like the only way to tell would be to actually go back to the mansion,¡± Oscar said.

    ¡°Absolutely not!¡± Lauren said fiercely. ¡°That place was supposed to be Sytris¡¯s incredible sanctuary and the Harbingers broke through in minutes. They could still be waiting for us there right now. Going back could mean having to go through it all over again.¡±

    ¡°So we¡¯re supposed to telekinetically remove our parents from Sytris¡¯s room, are we?¡± Jon asked. ¡°How else are we supposed to get them out if we don¡¯t actually go back?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s simple,¡± Tim spoke up. ¡°I can go in first and ¡ª¡±

    ¡°No!¡± The other four spoke in unison, so loudly and so suddenly that Tim started.

    ¡°That brings us to another of the dozen elephants in the room that needs to be addressed,¡± said Jon. ¡°You need to cool it, Zippy. Your speed is useful, but you¡¯re overselling yourself. Rushing off without consulting anyone first, running into danger because you think you can outrun it.¡±

    ¡°I agree,¡± Haley said. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to be working together. Running off by yourself isn¡¯t helping anyone.¡±

    ¡°Besides, they know what you can do. They might be expecting you to come zooming in any moment,¡± Oscar added.

    ¡°Well¡­ since everyone feels so strongly about it¡­¡± Tim felt wrong-footed, blindsided. ¡°What do you suggest then?¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t go in guns blazing,¡± Lauren said. ¡°If this is going to work, we have to be cautious.¡±

    ¡°Stealth attack, I like it.¡± Oscar nodded his approval. ¡°And on top of that, we have a secret weapon.¡± He turned conspiratorially in his seat, looking right at Haley, who looked around as though expecting to see someone behind her. Looking deeply confused she pointed at herself. ¡°Exactly. The Harbingers have no idea what you can do. We could use that.¡±

    ¡°No pressure or anything,¡± she said sarcastically.

    ¡°I guess that only leaves one question¡­ when?¡± Lauren asked.

    A strained silence swelled through the room. Tim looked from one to the other, observing their reactions. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, and then opened it again with a deep breath. ¡°I think we should do it tomorrow. The longer we wait, the greater the chance our parents get discovered. It¡¯s already been a week, I can¡¯t wait another day.¡±

    ¡°Does the court have any objections?¡± Oscar asked.

    Tim braced himself, but to his surprise none came. All of his siblings looked as if they were steeling themselves for the prospect of what was to come.

    ¡°Well then it¡¯s settled. Gather round children, I¡¯m going to teach you the art of war,¡± Oscar said with a rather devious smile. ¡°And pay close attention. Tomorrow, we storm the castle.¡±

 Chapter 25: Storming the Castle

    Of all the surprises Haley had experienced over the past three weeks, the biggest yet, perhaps, was the fact that ¡°storming the castle¡± wasn¡¯t as terrifying a prospect as she had initially thought. On the other hand, over the course of the next few hours, as they readied their supplies and went over Oscar¡¯s strangely elaborate and even more devious game plan, she found herself brimming with a savage desire to confront the Harbinger trio.  All the pain and death they had caused in the town in which they had taken refuge, to the centaur camp in which she had so greatly enjoyed her time, and of course, to Sytris, it was now their time to return the favour.

    They could not revive their caretaker, but they could avenge him.

    Haley welcomed the darkness of night rather impatiently. She could think of so many moments prior when she had pleaded with Father Time to run the clocks a little more slowly so that she could enjoy the finer moments of life and he had so spitefully disobliged, and now he was taking his sweet time, stretching every second into ten, in an effort to delay the inevitable battle as much as possible.

    She found it hard to sleep, knowing what their mission was tomorrow and what low chances of success they had.

    I¡¯m our secret weapon. She repeated the words to herself over and over, staring at the gloomy ceiling of the opulent room Sytris had prepared for her. It was indeed a great pressure, to think that their triumph tomorrow could lean heavily on the fact that the Harbingers had limited knowledge of her capabilities. But could she do it? Sunder had taught her so much over the past few days, and yet it felt like she had barely scratched the surface of her potential. Being in the heart of the forest with Sunder¡¯s warmly paternal voice guiding her, it was easy to try to develop some kind of connection with the flora around her. He had told her once that it was possible to hear the very earth speaking.

    She had never truly experienced it, but unless she was deluding herself, after a few days working with Sunder, she had started to hear a faint humming each time she returned a plant to its original vitality, as if the earth was whispering a word of gratitude.

    Would she be able to fully tap into her power tomorrow, to use the earth not as a tool, but as an aide in their victory?

    Stop thinking about it, she chided herself. The last thing she needed was to overwhelm herself before the battle had even started. Instead she threw her blankets around herself and fell back against the pillows, trying to empty her thoughts. It was a difficult feat, because her mind was teeming with all manner of imagery, ranging from dreadful predictions of tomorrow¡¯s fight, to what she might find in Sytris¡¯s work space when they arrived at the house.

    Hours passed, but eventually she managed to drift off into a fitful sleep. Her dreams were plagued with the appearance of monsters they had seen over the course of the last two weeks: the awful doctor that Jon had killed; the gruesome faces of the innocent people who had died during Valarok¡¯s storm; the bloodied bodies of the centaurs who had been struck down protecting their home. Even her father, unresponsive in his hospital bed¡­

    All of what they were going through now was a direct result of the Harbingers. The Harbingers, who had forced their family to separate them in youth; who had uprooted their lives, destroyed their homeland, and forced them to flee the sanctuary Sytris had created for them.

    It was difficult to believe that ridding the world of the Harbingers would immediately relieve them of all the problems that had emerged following their appearance, but she knew life would take a definite upturn if they were successful.

    She was up at the crack of dawn, once again going through the small bag she had packed with her supplies. There were snacks, clean clothing and a fully charged cellphone, in case they ended up stowed away for another prolonged period of time. She ambled down the stairs and found the other four already in the kitchen, tucking into plates of eggs, bacon and pancakes glazed with syrup.

    ¡°I was going to come wake you in a minute,¡± said Jon, handing her a plate of her own and a steaming mug of peppermint-scented tea, her favourite.

    ¡°We were just going over a few last minute details,¡± Tim added. His plate was larger than everyone else¡¯s, due to the fact that his speed demanded a higher energy intake than the rest. ¡°We just landed on the subject of what we were going to do if Erymithia¡¯s ¡®children¡¯ showed up again. Don¡¯t know how we skipped over that part last night.¡±

    ¡°The flaming mongrels are bad enough, but the Necroforagers are going to be a real problem,¡± Jon said bitterly. ¡°Neither our weapons nor our powers can do any real damage to them.¡±

    ¡°And if we do manage it, they immediately repair themselves,¡± added Oscar.

    ¡°I think it¡¯s got something to do with those green crystals embedded in their chests,¡± Haley said through a mouthful of toast. ¡°I never gave it much thought before, but it seems to me like those things function like their hearts.¡±

    Tim frowned, but not as though he were confused or angry. It seemed a realization had dawned on him. ¡°Remember in the woods? One of those crystals hit the floor first, then the ground started swirling up around it to form a body. So the crystals must be enchanted to take on a physical form based on whatever material they come in contact with. If we can destroy the hearts ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Then we kill the necroforagers,¡± finished Jon.

    ¡°But that brings us right back to square one,¡± Lauren said. ¡°How do we damage the necroforagers enough to extract the hearts, before they can mend themselves?¡±

    Silence filled the room. Haley took a sip of her tea. She had no thoughts on how they were meant to effectively combat the necroforagers, only that she hoped they wouldn¡¯t have to deal with them at all.

    ¡°I guess the only option for now is to keep hitting them until the opportunity presents itself,¡± Jon said with a shrug, breaking the silence at last.

    ¡°That sounds like a terrible plan,¡± Oscar said casually. ¡°Unfortunately it¡¯s all we¡¯ve got.¡±

    ¡°And it¡¯s one we may not even have to use,¡± Lauren said, standing up. ¡°Remember, this is a rescue mission. Fighting is second priority, saving our parents is first.¡±

    ¡°Agreed,¡± said Tim.

    ¡°And remember, whatever happens, even if we lose¡­¡± Jon began, his eyes bright, a small smile playing on his lips. ¡°It¡¯s all your fault for suggesting this lunacy in the first place.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough.¡± Oscar shrugged, bumping his cup against Jon¡¯s in a toast. The others followed suit, and the kitchen was soon thick with the sound of gentle clinking and loud gulps as they downed their drinks. ¡°Now, shall we go kick some divine ass?¡±

    <hr>

    The city was in ruin. Rooftops had been ripped clean off of dozens of houses, broken wires were spread messily over the ground, trees had been uprooted and were hanging loosely over the roads. Windows were broken, walls had been shattered, and even now the streets were almost totally hidden under channels of muddy water.

    ¡°All those people¡­¡± Lauren said quietly, peering down at the destruction. ¡°Those monsters. They can¡¯t get away with this.¡±

    ¡°And they won¡¯t,¡± Jon said, in a voice of fierce determination. They were riding atop Skylar, galloping through the air above the city that Sytris had brought them to. From their perch on her back they had the perfect vantage point to survey the true extent of Valarok¡¯s hurricane. It was truly awful, but worst of all was the distinct lack of people. Haley wanted to believe that the lack of bodies meant that meant the people of this town had managed to escape, but she knew deep down that it was due to the bodies rising of their own accord to lead the assault on the centaur¡¯s camp.

    ¡°Keep your eyes peeled,¡±  Oscar cautioned. Haley nodded and then she caught sight of Tim, who was clutching his stomach, looking as though he was seconds away from being sick.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± she asked him. He nodded but did not speak, as though he did not trust himself to open his mouth. ¡°Air sickness, or are you just nervous?¡±

    ¡°To be honest, I can¡¯t tell which,¡± Tim said groggily.

    ¡°Just try not to hurl all over my back please,¡± Jon pleaded from in front of them.

    ¡°There¡¯s the mansion!¡± came Lauren¡¯s voice suddenly. It appeared first as a small blip surrounded by rolling fields of green, growing larger with every passing second.

    ¡°Time for cover,¡± Lauren said. Oscar raised a hand and began to wave it in a wide circle around them. Rivulets of purple energy began to stream through the air, soft and fluid like droplets of water, weaving through the sky around them. As Haley watched, a hazy outline of a soft puffy cloud formed around them. Farther and farther on they flew, until at last the mansion came into clear view. Her jaw dropped.

    All the damage from the storm had been repaired: the windows that had been cracked, the walls that had been torn asunder, the trees that had been heaved from the ground ¡ª all of it had been cleaned up, as if it had never happened at all.

    ¡°They¡¯re still here,¡± Jon said, his voice shaking with fury. ¡°After all of that, they¡¯re living in our house.¡±

    Oscar too looked angry, but he took several calming breaths and said, ¡°Our focus is getting our parents out. Everything else can wait.¡±

    Jon clearly didn¡¯t like the idea but he didn¡¯t protest. Instead he urged Skylar onwards and she began to sink lower and lower through the bright, mid-morning sky, which was currently a brilliant cornflower blue. It really was an amazing sight, which was ironic considering the pandemonium that was about to break loose underneath it.

    The cloud slowly dispersed as they sank lower, then they touched down, light as a feather, in the spacious backyard.

    They dismounted as quietly as they could and Jon dismissed Skylar with a wave of his hand. She flicked her ethereal mane and went cantering out of sight. She was their only way of escape, but if Erymithia¡¯s hounds were still around it wouldn¡¯t bode well for anyone.

    ¡°Stay close to me,¡± Oscar breathed. They huddled together, walking slowly across the perfectly kept lawn as Oscar maintained the illusion of an empty backyard around them. As one they trudged up to the immense fences and climbed over, landing rather awkwardly in the front yard. As they moved up towards the door, they heard movement. Haley went as still as a statue; the others froze too, though not quite as smoothly. Jon had stiffened so fast that he slipped as they were walking up the driveway and nearly faceplanted onto the pavement, but Tim reached out just in time to stop him from collision. Across the lawn, resting, was one of the enormous black-and-red dogs that Erymithia had dubbed her ¡°children.¡± Its chest was rising and falling slowly; it almost looked like a normal dog, had it not been for the fact that it was made of wispy shadow and flame.

    Oscar turned to Tim, who looked nervous but determined. ¡°Go,¡± he whispered. Tim gave a hurried nod, grabbed hold of Lauren, and disappeared. Haley, Jon, and Oscar went the other direction, moving as fast as they could.

    They crept around to the side door instead, which, unsurprisingly, was locked. Jon moved to the head of the group. His eyes began to glow, transitioning to a violently bright shade of orange.

    Energy flowed through his fingers and a beam of light burst from his hands onto the lock. There was a gentle simmering sound, and they watched in amazement as the lock melted. Slowly they pushed open the door and entered. The Harbingers seemed to have made the mansion their home. The interior had also been repaired, but they had certainly taken it on themselves to make a few stylistic changes. Instead of the white velvet sofas Sytris had procured for them, they had been replaced with dark brown coffee tables and red leather furniture. The curtains had been removed, replaced with dark, forest-themed drapes. In the corner stood what looked like a portable closet, except there were no clothes inside. Instead it was filled with an array of weapons, ranging from daggers to broadswords. A strong scent of tobacco smoke lingered through the air.

    ¡°What did they do to our house?¡± Oscar said in a low, indignant voice.

    ¡°Guys, we don¡¯t have time for this,¡± Haley said, although she was eying a discarded sweatshirt on the sofa with distaste. ¡°Remember why we¡¯re here.¡±

    Reluctantly, Haley could tell, they tore their eyes away from the mess of the living room and hurried up the curving staircase. It was harder now more than ever to ignore what they were seeing, because now it was plain that the living room wasn¡¯t the only thing that had been ransacked. Their rooms too had been assaulted: their clothes were strewn all over the floor, along with their personal effects, mementos they had carried for years, shattered on the gleaming tiles.

    ¡°When I get my hands on them¡­¡± Jon growled, but Haley kept him moving, shunting him along with a hand on his back.

    At last they made it to the end of the corridor, where Sytris¡¯s room stood. This door too was ajar, and like their own its contents had been overturned. Haley held her breath as they entered the room, not daring to hope ¡ª

    But the mirror was intact, besides a thin crack snaking its way across the otherwise smooth surface.

    ¡°Oh my God,¡± she said, hurrying over to it. ¡°That won¡¯t stop it from working, will it?¡± She turned around and saw Jon staring wistfully into the mirror. A glance to the left revealed Oscar staring at it too, his expression somber. She stood up slowly, as the realization set in that she was the only one who wouldn¡¯t have anyone waiting for her on the other side.

    ¡°You guys should go check it out,¡± she said gently. ¡°I¡¯ll wait here in case anyone shows ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous,¡± Jon said firmly. He marched forward, seized her wrist and Oscar¡¯s elbow, and together they stepped through the mirror. Haley felt an odd sensation as though she were walking through a sheet of cold water, then into a blazing inferno. Almost as soon as it had come on the feeling vanished, and she stepped out into a darkened stone room.

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    She blinked rapidly as her eyes tried to assimilate to the gloom, then an instant later her hands flew up to cover her face as a blaze of light speared through the darkness.

    Jon raised his hands high, pointing the beams of light into the corners of the room, and Haley¡¯s heart skipped a beat.

    ¡°Jonny?¡±

    Mr. Whitmore had been shrinking back against the wall, holding a rusty old pitchfork, but his eyes were shining in the sudden brightness, wide with shock.

    ¡°Dad?¡± Jon¡¯s voice shook as his eyes landed on his father, and a look of utter relief broke across his face. Mr. Whitmore made an indistinct noise of relief, threw down his weapon and hurried forward, sweeping Jon into a crushing bear hug.

    ¡°Oh my God!¡± he said, his voice slightly muffled. ¡°You made it out! I knew you would! I told them you¡¯d be okay!¡±

    The other parents slowly shuffled out of the other corners of the room. They looked wan and haggard, to be expected given what they had been through, but they were all there, and they were okay.

    ¡°Oh thank goodness, I was so worried,¡± said Mrs. Bryant, hurling herself at Haley, who was so caught off guard by this sudden bout of affection that she stood frozen for several seconds with her hands outstretched in the air. When she finally regained herself, she returned Mrs. Bryant¡¯s hug. She felt conflicted: on one hand she felt a surge of guilt, knowing that Tim should have been the one in her position, but she also found for a fleeting moment that she didn¡¯t want to let go. It had been so long since she had felt a hug like this, warm and full of love. The last time had been when she had visited her mother in the hospital, and not only had she embraced her, she had assured her that what happened wasn¡¯t her fault.

    ¡°Oh I¡¯m so glad everyone¡¯s okay.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Haley, who felt a sudden wave of tears coming. She hurriedly detached herself and turned away so that no one could see her face. ¡°We¡¯re all okay. Everyone else is on the other side. They¡¯re waiting for us. We should hurry.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure it¡¯s safe?¡± asked Lauren¡¯s father, who was being tugged along by his wife. ¡°I mean, we were all hesitant about leaving because we didn¡¯t want to stumble across those ¡ª¡±

    ¡°They wouldn¡¯t be here if it wasn¡¯t safe, dear,¡± Mrs. Combs said patiently. In twos and threes they emerged through the mirror and into Sytris¡¯s room. Haley felt another great pang as she realized that one of the last mementos of Sytris would be left in such a grubby state, but there was no time to rearrange. The trio could be back any moment.

    Out the door, across the hallway and down the stairs they ran, over a dozen pairs of feet thundering over the tiles in their haste.

    They had almost reached the door, home-free, when a silky female voice crooned from the shadows: ¡°I told you they couldn¡¯t resist.¡±

    Everyone halted. Haley looked wildly around for the source of the voice and her eyes met Erymithia¡¯s. She was wearing an intricate suit of dark green armour; she had3 pale skin, long silver hair and blood-red lips, which she was currently licking in a very disturbing manner.

    ¡°One way or another they would find their way back here, just as I told you. No one can ever pass up a good revenge scheme.¡±

    They looked across the hall to find who she was talking to: her older brother, who was still wearing the body of a child. That was never going to stop being creepy. Valarok was surveying them critically from his perch at the top of the stairs, arms folded behind his back.

    ¡°No, I think I¡¯ll have to disagree with you this time, sister. This isn¡¯t a plot fueled by vengeance. It¡¯s a salvage mission. They¡¯re here to rescue their mortal families. How absolutely darling.¡±

    Hearing such an innocent voice filled with such callousness sent a shiver down Haley¡¯s spine. The axe-wielding lunatic and their equally psychotic sister were one thing, but the eldest sibling was easily the most unsettling of the bunch. She wondered if he had chosen to don a child¡¯s face deliberately to inspire conflicting feelings of attacking a child during batt ¡ª

    Haley let out an involuntary gasp. She had just realized that Valarok was staring down at her, his lips pulled back in an awful smile.

    ¡°So, you survived. Very good indeed. I would have hated for you to suffer such an underwhelming death. It gives me the chance to do it properly this time.¡± And she watched in horror as he held out his hand and the same glittering, tar-black blade he had used to stab her materialized in his hand. ¡°Now listen very carefully, children. You have exhausted all manner of patience I have so courteously extended you. I will say this only once: surrender the Nexus, or die where you stand.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about. We don¡¯t have your stupid Nexus,¡± Oscar snarled.

    ¡°Very well. Die it is,¡± Valarok said smoothly. ¡°I suppose you¡¯ve accepted your fates. After all, what else did you imagine by coming back here? You should have expected this the moment you took the bait.¡±

    Bait? thought Haley. But no one else seemed very interested in his statement. Instead, Oscar smiled back at him. ¡°Actually, we did.¡±

    For the first time, a look of confusion dawned across Valarok¡¯s face.

    As if in response to their bewilderment, a horrible, animalistic cry rang out from outside. It was like the bellow of a wounded rhino.

    ¡°Azeban,¡± Erymithia gasped. ¡°What have you done?¡± she screeched, and suddenly her sharp features looked rather insane.

    ¡°Nothing much.¡± Oscar shrugged again. ¡°Just added a bit more salt to his diet, if you know what I mean.¡± He finished his statement with a wink.

    Understanding dawned on her visage with a rather alarming speed. ¡°Impossible,¡± she said, horrified. ¡°How did you¡­¡± Her eyes widened with shock, as if another terrifying realization had settled in. But before she had even got the words out, Haley thrust her hands sharply towards her. Erymithia started, as if expecting something to come hurtling towards her, but no such thing happened. Instead, several huge, fast-growing branches burst from the ground underneath her. She screamed as they erupted into the room, wrapping themselves around her with a frightening speed. Her screams were extinguished within seconds as the branches completely encompassed her. Valarok moved to help his sister, but he had barely taken a step forward when a streak of bright green electricity erupted onto the landing, directly where he was standing.

    It looked like a scene from a horror movie. Valarok¡¯s tiny figure shook convulsively as lightning charged through his body, blasting him off the top of the stairs and into the wall behind him. His body slowly peeled from the stone surface and he clattered into the middle of the living room below.

    Most unfortunately the divine resilience and healing they possessed was a trait that the Harbingers also had. Valarok was on his feet again in mere moments, his eyes burning with fury. He drew his sword ¡ª and then a streak of blue smashed into him, sending him flying into the ugly red sofa that disfigured their living room.

    ¡°Get them out of here!¡± Jon yelled at Tim.

    They couldn¡¯t even see his face, only the sparkling trails of blue light that he left behind as he whizzed back and forth through the door, each time bringing with him two members of their families. In less than a minute he had completely evacuated all the civilians, but unfortunately that was all the time they could afford. The trees that had been suffocating Erymithia had suddenly caught fire, wilting under a dark green inferno. The branches fell away from her and she emerged from her sylvan cocoon.

    Her huge Auxilyte scythe was clutched in her hand, and green lightning was crackling at her fingertips. A bolt of it broke free from her hand and flew right at them, but just before it connected Tim had swooped in and swept them out of harm¡¯s way.

    Where they had been standing half a second before now lay an enormous smoking crater, so deep they couldn¡¯t see the bottom.

    Dimly Haley registered that the winds outside were picking up. The sky had darkened so suddenly it was as though something was blotting out the sun, but she knew better. Valarok was staring another storm. As the realization formed in Haley¡¯s mind, Valarok himself came trudging around the corner, his black sword shining.

    ¡°I¡¯m impressed, you¡¯ve certainly improved since our last encounter.¡±

    They said nothing, watching as Erymithia came at them from the other side. Orpheo hadn¡¯t appeared yet, which was something that had come up during their previous night¡¯s planning.

    According to Valarok, Orpheo would only show up when things ¡°got interesting.¡± Even now he could be on his way there, ready to appear in a flurry of ice and snow as he had the last time. Though they had certainly taken into account the fact that he could show up at any time, Haley would vastly prefer if they could finish their showdown when there were only two Harbingers to deal with.

    A telltale crackle signaled more lightning incoming. Haley dived to the side, narrowly missing another one of Erymithia¡¯s bolts.

    She rolled to a halt, leaping to her feet with her fans unfurled. Erymithia took one look at her and screamed with derisive laughter.

    ¡°What are you going to do, dear? Fan me? I am feeling a bit humid, now you mention it.¡±

    A flicker of irritation ran through Haley¡¯s mind but she immediately shot it down. After all the planning they had done, it would all be in vain if she allowed Erymithia to goad her into doing something stupid now. Instead she did what she had been planning to do: she threw her fans. Erymithia deflected the first with a simple flick of her scythe, sending the gleaming brightsteel weapon cascading into the air around her. The second she ducked underneath, but this time she had barely tried to evade it. Completely at ease, almost unconcerned, she simply threw her head back, allowing her mane of aluminium-coloured hair to ripple like strands of liquid metal.

    ¡°Did you really think that would work?¡± she asked with a mocking smile. ¡°You children really have so much to learn.¡±

    ¡°Actually,¡± Haley said, ¡°I did think it would work.¡±

    Erymithia¡¯s cocky smirk faded, to be replaced by an expression of apprehension as she whipped her head of shining hair around. Her fans whirred as they flew through the airh, signaling the goddess that the weapons were returning to their mark. She reacted in time to block the first, but the second came just as quickly and before she could raise her scythe again, it had slammed into her chest and thrust her backwards.

    The concrete exploded as her back smashed into the wall, her scythe flying out of her hands.

    As she slid to the floor, landing in a messy heap, Haley saw that her fan had ripped a huge gash in Erymithia¡¯s chest; bright gold blood dribbled out of the wound.

    If Haley had to guess, that wound was stinging her as painfully as the one Valarok had inflicted upon her, and it filled her with a rush of savage pleasure to see her on the floor, whimpering in pain as she tenderly reached up to feel the extent of the damage. A tumultuous burst of energy ripped across the room, flaring so brightly and so suddenly; that Haley had to look away. She peeled her eyelids apart very slowly and watched as the energy poured over Erymithia, who screamed in pure unbridled agony. Her screeches were so loud and raw that Haley almost felt bad for her. Almost. Until she remembered what she had done to Sytris. Jon finally let up, and when the light had faded Erymithia slumped back against the wall.

    The hole the fan had carved across her chest had widened under the blast. The entire patch of skin around her neck had melted, leaving bone exposed.

    A sudden wave of nausea overtook Haley and she had to fight down the urge to be sick. She had seen some truly gruesome stuff over the past few weeks, but she didn¡¯t think it was something she could ever get used to.

    Jon, however, was advancing on the fallen goddess with nothing short of pure hatred in his eyes. She was wheezing, blood splattering from her mouth and onto the floor. He raised his hand again ¡ª another jet of energy flew from his palm and engulfed her. She shrieked again, her wails echoing through the cavernous kitchen. The sound of her flesh melting, coupled with her agonizing screams, was one of the most deeply unpleasant sounds she had ever heard.

    ¡°That was for Sytris,¡± Jon said, and he let loose another blast. Haley had to look away, wishing that she could stick her fingers in her ears so that she didn¡¯t have to listen to what was unfolding in front of her.

    It seemed she didn¡¯t have the stomach to do what was necessary after all.

    ¡°And that was for our parents,¡± he added contemptuously.

    ¡°Get away from her!¡±

    It was Valarok, appearing suddenly at the doorway, which had darkened drastically. The storm was intensifying outside. They could hear the wind hammering away at the windows and doors, hear the rain pounding on the roof as if it were hail. A fork of lightning tore through the sky and the windows of the kitchen exploded. Fragments of glass flew over the room like shrapnel. Haley dove behind the counter with a yelp as Jon launched his counterattack.

    This time his rays were a piercing violet, twin streams raining over the walls as Valarok leapt out of sight. There was another deafening rumble, then another thunderbolt struck.

    Haley didn¡¯t even see when he dodged. She didn¡¯t see how he could have dodged. The electricity had hit at point-blank range, but Jon was all the way on the other side of the room, perfectly unscathed, leaving behind another smoking crater. Finally it fell into place, as Tim sped across the room to intercept Valarok before he could resume his attacks, and delivered a crushing blow to his jaw with his vast hammer. His frail body was lifted off the ground by the force of the impact and he collided with a huge, glass-covered painting that had certainly not been there during their time at the mansion. Valarok fell to the floor in a shower of glass.

    But as Tim advanced again, the gale force winds picked up yet again, repelling him. Rain was now coming in through the holes in the walls, so heavily that it looked like the mansion would soon be flooded.

    Light pierced the gloom as Jon fired another harsh purple flare. Valarok managed to dodge, but his movements were becoming more sluggish; no doubt the hits he had taken were taking their toll.

    He pointed his stygian blade at Tim, but then his face was overcome with visible confusion. Another Tim had sprouted into existence mere feet away from him. Then another. And another.

    One blink later and ten Tims were now surrounding him as he shrank back against the wall, pointing his sword helplessly from one to the other. Unable to tell which one of them was the real one, he sent streaks of lightning catapulting in every direction. Every time he hit off one the Tims, the image rippled and vanished. Seizing on his confusion, Haley unfurled both her fans and launched them both at him.

    The first he noticed coming, deflecting it with a sharp swing of his sword. The second snaked through his defenses and slid across his wrist; he yelped in pain and dropped the sword.

    Valarok dived for it, but before his fingers could close around the shaft he was sent flying backwards by another shaft of green electricity. Lauren had joined the battle. Haley couldn¡¯t believe it. They were winning.

    ¡°Orus!¡± shouted Jon. There was a flash of deep sapphire and his sword appeared in his hands, the gleaming grey-green Brightsteel a sharp contrast to the pitch-black Auxilyte. He took off with a resounding war cry, charging right at Valarok, whose eyes had gone impossibly wide at the prospect of what was about to happen. Jon was within ten feet of him when it happened: in the blink of an eye the temperature in the room dropped to freezing point. The rain that was pouring in became flakes of snow; the ground had turned into an ice rink before their brains could register what had happened.

    Jon slipped, tumbling right into the overturned sofa.

    ¡°He¡¯s here!¡± Lauren yelled.

    The third sibling. But they couldn¡¯t see him. Haley looked around wildly, fans at the ready, but she was hit in the back by what she could only describe as winter-in-a-can. She flew across the icy floor, colliding hard with the base of the entertainment center and trembling as violently as if she had been walking through a snowstorm for hours. Dimly she registered that her hands had actually turned blue. She tried to speak but her jaws seemed to have been frozen together.

    To her horror, the floor beneath them was churning, chunks of ice swirling to the center of the room.

    Oh no.

    She caught a glint of emerald  just ahead of them and saw two huge glowing crystals, each of them threaded with what looked like veins, disappearing under mounds of ice and snow.

    ¡°Time to go!¡± Oscar shouted, hurrying over to help Haley up.

    Jon looked at him as though he was insane. ¡°Are you kidding? Look at how close we are! We can end it!¡±

    ¡°No we can¡¯t! Not anymore. Unless you miraculously figured out a way to destroy those things, because we haven¡¯t!¡±

    The Necroforagers¡¯ bodies were almost complete. The room around them was still being engulfed by an impenetrable wave of cold. Jon looked around with an anguished expression. She understood how he was feeling. They had tasted success. They were right on the cusp of victory, and then the world had fallen apart underneath them. Looking extremely dispirited, Jon put his fingers in his mouth and whistled.

    Under other circumstances Haley would have thought there was no way Skylar could possibly hear the call. But she had witnessed firsthand just how wrong she was.

    The Necroforagers had fully formed, standing at their full, intimidating heights. The crystals embedded in their chests emitted a ghastly green glow, and even though they didn¡¯t have mouths Haley could have sworn they were making low growling noises. And then he appeared, clad in crystalline blue armour, battle axe held high: Orpheo.

    There was a loud whinny, then Skylar galloped into the room.

    Lauren fired another blast of lightning in the center of the room, trying to cover them as all of them clambered onto Skylar¡¯s saddle, Haley helped up by Jon and Oscar.

    ¡°No, don¡¯t let them escape!¡± shrieked Valarok. The Necroforagers pounded towards them. Skylar reared onto her hind legs and released a huge gale of emerald wind, not quite pushing them back but at least managing to slow them down, then she wheeled around and streaked out into the dark, stormy evening.