The Songbird

TYKE

"A

gain, who are you?" She'd better not throw any more cryptic shit at my face.

"Ahh," she exhales, launching herself from the table, awkwardly pirouetting across the room, and so theatrically that it's cringe-inducing. And as she twirls amongst the dead bodies, marveling at the ceiling, hair whipping away her freaking long exhale, she halts, a grin slashed on her face. "I am..."

I readjust my weapon, the motion rough enough to let her know I hate suspense.

"Roooh, Tyke. So rude!" She folds her arms and exhales, "I told you, I'm your little songbird."

My songbird? There's tension in the Blood Wringer clan? A dissident?

"Your name?"

She smiles once more. "Mordana." And then she gnaws at the air like she's packed with rabies, making me take a furious step back, squashing Vine's hand, grouching out an "Aww."

"I know, I know. It's beautiful, isn't it," Mordana snarls.

Her servant pays no attention to us, like we're not even here. Alongside him are giant crates full of documents, old and recent, thousands of pages, many with filing binder rings, others without. It's a paper festival of manuscripts, parchments, engraved slates. He's puffing about, muttering or crying to himself, pulling armfuls of them out.

"You need to stop him." It takes a shout to get Mordana to frown.

"I won't," she says in a resonant, yet smug tone.

The buzzing sound of flames grows frenzied as a male gasp is heard behind her. My order seems to exacerbate Hugo's psychotic fit, aggravating the situation. Repeating the cycle with greater urgency, Hugo kneels, huffs, and stuffs valuable combustible materials into this burning stack at frightening speed.

"Tell. Him. To. Stop." I aim my gun at Hugo, who is destroying the evidence we came for, now realizing she's more intelligent than I thought. What she's doing here is nothing more than a time-saving strategy.

"Tut tut, focus Tyke. Eyes on me, now."

"Tell him to stop burning whatever this is." My order is crushing, a signal she's bound to take. With an eye back in my visor, I aim at Hugo, visibly stressed, shoving his weight in paper into the fire.

"Can't do that."

Then a silver bullet it is. I swiftly adjust my aim, Vine's speed catching mine as her barrel strokes my inner leg. I'm trying to lure her in, thinking I'm taking a shot in a specific place, my true aim, a treat she will love. "Dawn Breaker one to Citadel, I'm taking the shot."

"Not so fast, Tyke," creeps into my ear, her lipstick sticky at my lobe.

I stare at the fire while her hand slithers down my shoulder, trying to keep it together. My adrenaline faucet opens wide, my carbine's muzzle fast to dock under her chin as I take one quick step aside.

But she's already... gone!

"No reception, Tyke?"

Like lightning, I swivel my head to her voice.

"The walls have ears, captain, but not down here..." She's back with her ass against the table, crossed legs steepening down the ground, visibly satisfied.

To hell with her. Time to wedge a bullet in her brain.

Bang!

She raises her hands as if surrendering, but every muscle in my face drops at the sight of her smirk cutting up to her ears. Something is smoking out of her mouth as her blistering smile broadens. I don't need to force my eyes to guess what happened here. Her teeth are clamped shut around my bullet, which she's quick to spit out. As I glare at the skin of her mouth and the flesh building up incredibly fast, all I can think of is how hard it will be to get rid of this woman.

"Nice shot, buddy, but um..." The girl wiggles one of her arms in the air and articulates, "Read. The. Signal."

An opaque black box lies under her thumb, folded over her palm.

Is that my remote?!

"Sorry, I pickpocketed you. It's always been a bad habit of mine... can't help it, really." Mordana bends forward and whispers, "Kleptomania, they call it," before shushing us with a finger, visibly amused by her shenanigans.

She's coming for another hello. Shit.

"Stay back!" I growl. "Hand me the remote and get on your knees. You, over there, come sit with your boss."

Even so, she puts another foot forth and chuckles.

I fire a warning shot at her feet.

She doesn't jitter a bit. "Don't you want to hear a little story first?" Her eyes turn cold, like twin slabs of tainted ice under a fucking blood moon.

"Growing tired of them."

Mordana revolves on her heels and slams her fist against the table, shaking her head. "Tyke, Tyke, Tyke..." She's upset. Emotions—she's got plenty to go around, which is interesting since vampires shouldn't have so many. "Tyke, my man, my boy... I need you to fucking listen to me."

"Time's up, woman."

I adjust my weapon, my finger pressing the trigger slowly. No clean shot this time. I'm going for a row. Mordana will have to grow a lot of arms to catch them all.

"Shift gear or fuck us all into fireworks," Mordana barks, juggling the remote from one hand to the other.

I loosen my finger.

"She's crazy. She killed her own. Look at all the bodies. She's not right up there," Vine mutters.

"Oh! Little one, you're still here? Let me tell you something, I'm as sane as one three-thousand-year-old vampire can be, precious. You, on the other hand, are lagging," she grates before turning her head toward this poor sod, mumbling in distress as he burns what we came for. "Faster, idiot."

"Tell him to stop!"

The sound of my weapon as I uprear it makes her bark, "Ready, set, fucking listen, Tyke! What she has left is just me and you."

"Who is she?"

Mordana smiles, all too happy to have captured our attention. "Remove your helmets, headsets, chips, whatever..." She gestures toward the fire. "In the flames, darlings, come on, hop hop."

I take a deep breath and lower my weapon. If Mordana wanted to kill us, she would have already.

I revolve on my heels and crouch.

"You believe her? You're cutting us out, captain!" Vine pulls free from my tug, her helmet strap slipping from my hands.

A part of me wants to shake her. "You want to pop with her?! What she doesn't want are recordings of our conversation. It doesn't matter whether there's a signal or not; our helmet cams pick up everything. Frankly, be happy about it." While Vine fusses, I remove her helmet, sparing me the need to explain further and the drama that would have persisted. I then take off my own and head toward Hugo and his precious fire.

"I don't have much time, so sit... I mean, stand tight," she says as I place myself back in front of Vine. The lass is losing too much blood, and something tells me Mordana's fangs are itching from it.

"You killed your own." The first rule of dealing with traitors is never to trust them. Guess I'm about to break that one...

"A songbird can't play both sides without casualties, Tyke, or it wouldn't be credible. As for my father's little shits, I can't let them fly to him and complain about his daughter's misbehavior. I kill witnesses. It happens... a lot."

Mordana marks a brief pause, nothing but a hard glance at the floor.

"Isn't she beautiful?"

I tilt down to Vine, fucking confused.

She turns her eyes upward and points at the ceiling. "Come on, the queen up there! My father keeps Fidr's rotting secrets. What one does for love... it's fascinating, really. And because I'm sensitive to such displays, I wanted to show you."

"You make us cut our lines for some royal tea?"

Mordana's face brightens. "Oh, that pun..." She takes an insane short leap toward us, so much so she's already there, crouching at my feet, cupping Vine's quivering chin. "You're adorable. If the situation had been different, I would've kept you as my pet. Alas..."

My eyes follow her head as it springs up at my stiffening level. Fuck, is she tall. And then, without glancing at me, she flicks a speck of dust off my shoulder. "I can't stay here for long." Is that melancholia? She's a vampire, and it's a fact they're not prone to sadness.

"You killed her?" I groan.

Mordana turns on her heels and drags herself back to the table, seeming to shudder as she hugs herself. "Garf, pff... Ahah!" She's hysterical, her wicked laugh turning my skin gray.

She volt-faces us, and as her hand glosses the wooden surface, the glow in her eyes dim.

Nervousness hums behind my sealed lips. It's frightening how this immortal reincarnated timeless broken vibrometer switches from pure exhilaration to silence in a nanosecond. "Mab did."

"Captain, we're talking to a mad person here."

"Shh, little squirrel. I'm trying to tell a story here. So fuck you and shut up."

But Vine isn't quite finished. "She's a fairytale character."

Angling her face to the right, Mordana rests her head on her shoulder and stares between my legs, which feels awkward as hell. "Listen, cupcake, I must have, like what..." she flicks her wrist, focusing on a diamond watch, "mmm, ten minutes. So stop fucking—" Mordana covers her mouth and coughs. I catch a faint glance from the corner of her eye, and she shuns it away as fast, wiping her grimy hand on her thigh as if embarrassed. I recognize the glint of blood staining her trousers as she does. There's something wrong with her.

"Interrupting me! So, where was I? Ah, yes. Queen Elbeth the sixth, up there. Fidr's great-great-great—and again, I can go on forever—great-granny, killed by Mab."

"It was her daughter, not Mab," corrects Vine.

A fiery-eyed Mordana glares at me bitterly. "Tyke, d'you think you can tell her to shut up?"

I lower my eyes at Vine and cock a brow at her, not hiding the fact that I've never felt so understood in my life.

"Queen Tarna the First was pulverized with magic, so... can't show you her body. Maybe some bones near the chancel?" she ponders. "To simplify, Mab cursed herself and her naughty sister out of grief."

"Naughty? Isn't Titania known for her pure and gentle nature?"

"Tyke, did no one ever tell you not to believe everything you read online?"

"Learned that in a history book; the first thing I read when the faefolk taught me how to learn and write."

"That's even worse. My advice? Burn those books; they are full of nonsense. Fidr is part of a long line of queens, cursed every twelfth generation, one involving Mab's reincarnation. This curse comes with the unfathomable act of..." her grin expands, "matricide!"

Matricide?

"Fidr only learned about it briefly before the wars began. There was something about consulting one of the High Witches. Was it palm reading, or was it crystal ball reading? I can't remember. What I do, though, is the omen that traveled to the vampires' ears. 'Mab will return with a warrior the skin of jade and kill Fidr, Queen of the Seelie.'" As we take deep breaths, she mumbles, "Maybe why Orcana is no more..."

My lips part.

My fists shake.

Breathe...

Mordana leans forth and shelters her mouth for no apparent reason, whispering, "In my opinion, she's the offspring of an Unseelie because, lords, is she vile."

She straightens up and keeps going with her usual quirky tone. "Anyway... my stepmom was involved in a political bargain her father had set up to strengthen an alliance. My knowledge of it stops there..." she titters between two words. "Sadly, the royal gossipers are no longer there to enlighten me. A little wild in her young years, a little firecracker who couldn't keep her legs shut."

Her stepmother... Fidr?!

"No surprise if I say she got pregnant. The child was taken and given to a wet nurse. Next, one of her bastard sisters, who, we suspect with the help of a knight and another royal member, vanished with it during this infamous night. The 'Final Banquet.' Heard about it, right?"

I shake my head and groan.

"Of course, you haven't. I was just playing around." She's back to whispering now, and I think she's leading us by the nose. "Tis a well-known secret amongst a lucky few vampires..." She wets her lips and quickly glances around the room, pausing two steady seconds on the entrance from which we came from. "According to the media, Fidr found out her family had been conspiring with orcs, if not selling Faerhan in its entirety, Elfexica included. Orcs stormed the throne room, vindicating her crown. As a result of her outrage, her own House imprisoned her. And the plot doesn't stop there: If not for vampires freeing her, she would still be rotting behind bars."

She rolls her eyes. "What a bunch of crap. The real story? I have it. I was there. Saw everything. We were the special residents of Burmstone Castle, after all; my father being her 'Lord Hand.' Upon the king's sudden death, Fidr took over her father's throne, and soon, every pore of hers began perspiring with hate. Excessive vengeance was flowing in her veins, the reasons behind? I don't know, but to release the excess, she found nothing better than to orchestrate a war with Orcana... Over the course of a decade, the royal family was growing increasingly worried. To a point where they created factions without even realizing it. Fidr had lost popularity, not only inside her walls but across the country." Mordana's tone turns grave. "She became paranoid. And so what followed, followed. A beautiful reception was organized, Fidr inviting all Faerhan aristocracy, even the royal bastards, to share a very particular meal. The food might have been delicious, but the poison glazed over it was incredibly pernicious. And that's what we call between ourselves, the 'Final Banquet." She bows at us, arms spanning wide.

She pauses for a breath to suddenly guffaw. "Should really start a poetry book. I'm quite good at it!"

I jerk at her outburst, and Mordana sees it. Dipping her chin and glaring at me with a smirk, she says, "At ease, captain."

Fuck, I want to get out of here. I shuffle on my feet, twisting my neck from this tension. "Are you done with your performance?"

"Let me check." Mordana takes a deep breath, throwing another glance at her watch. "Seems like we've got a couple of minutes lef?—"

She gasps slowly as I watch her knees give way, my feet taking two quick steps forth.

Though she's fast to gather herself up, Mordana's face turns a paler version of white, an inkling of pink shading her cheeks. Looks like the lady's embarrassed. What I've also picked up is that her health's been deteriorating rapidly since we got here.

Her fangs grow, their glint sharpening in the faint light of the room. This might be a reaction to an unknown illness her body seems to be battling.

"At ease, Mordana," I jest in a vain attempt to appease her visible discomfort.

She chuckles. "Initially, she didn't want any part of her mistake. Now, she wants to find and end it before it ends her. Do you follow?"

The ugly truth dawns on me as I look at Mordana. And as I tie the strings together, Fay keeps surfacing at every knot. That queen up there, the resemblance to Fay is striking. Same wings, same soft expression, same eyes. Both the queen and her keep merging, pulsating in my mind with every further explanation Mordana throws my way. It's like a curse, each visual an echo of dread, pulling at my mind like a vice. And Fay's magic. It's more powerful than she thinks... I've got to be wrong. I want to be wrong.

"Where's the child?"

"Where's Fidr's sister, you mean?"

I frown. "Go on."

"It was that same night, Fidr's stepsister, another bastard child, snuck into the nursery, snatched the infant, and fled the castle accompanied by a knight. Fidr'd ordered the nursemaid to administer the poison to the infant. Of course, the nursemaid was found dead... Guess the couple knew what was cooking."

"Fay..."

"Yes, an original name for a fae... Anyway, flash forward because your little friends are about to bust our party. Think about fairies, murders, and Glow..."

My throat dries.

"As one might expect from a fae royal, we've been mandated to find this child or sister. Us, creatures of the night, shadow lurkers..." she overdramatizes.

"What's this got to do with Glow?" I can't seem to think straight.

"Wait. I'm getting there. So now you know Fidr is looking for a particular fairy with atypical magic, turning anything that could've matched the description into goo. Poor Fidr, not one fairy had managed to make her happy until now."

Her voice fades. "Cause here's a secret..."And I roll my eyes so much, I'm pretty sure I saw my spine. "A kind person in your precinct, Tyke, told me the fairy in question has two fake canines."

My brows meet at this dental detail and the snitch from where it came from.

A rattled throat later, not forgetting a crisscross swap of legs, she goes on, "So Fidr gives us the corpses that didn't make the cut for her, and we make Glow out of them. You know, gotta shake that money tree somewhere down the line. Let's say it's called... organic recycling."

My stomach churns to know half of New Orc has been ingesting fairies in the form of Glow.

Her fingers flick in the air as if sprinkling chocolate flakes on a cake. "As you can see, this was our first underground plant, explaining the wings scattered everywhere. But Fidr grew nervous because her ancestors were rotting in the same spot. Didn't want to get tangled in Glow." Her smile has my guts shrinking. How cold can she get? There's still a question about whether she's hollow in her heart or genuinely concerned. "Had to goad some... tried to save some, too. But Daddy sniffs traitors from a mile away, his eyes sharper than a hawk's. He can detect fear, guilt, and who I've been talking to just by smell alone." A snort, cold as steel flows in wavelets out of her as she tugs at her shirt, her wrist bangles clank in a saber-rattling way. And I sense angst.

"He's got my brother and me under his thumb. He knows how tight we are. Reason why I can't stay long." Mordana smooths her hair down, giving a glance at what's happening behind her back. "When Hugo is done with his kindling, we're done too."

She scratches her left temple, and I think she's becoming nervous about something. Yes, unquestionably. As her gaze returns to me, she twirls a strand around one finger, giving it a slight slip as she spins it endlessly. "I don't want my father to think I went astray... got to do his deeds, you know. Considering how he is, he'll go after my weak spot if I don't." She breathes out, as if to disguise her cough. "My. Brother."

"My brother... My brother and I are very close. Close, Tyke. He's my favorite little bat, and oh, if you could've seen how my eyes glimmered with wonder when he mentioned a fairy bursting out magic as she thought, spoke, or whatever—kinda spurting pixie dust like a fountain in the middle of a drunken crowd."

I pinch my lips as she stares at me intently. She's too chatty, acting like she's got nothing to hold on to, and that's unhinging.

His words...

"There is something unique about her that resonates with me."

"She cannot be involved in our fae hunt, much less in Glow."

His words.

"My brain started working right away, and what it pieced together was..." with her hands on her head, she says, "mind-blowing," before quickly pulling them away from her temples.

Like an erectile dysfunction, goosebumps come and go, instincts heightened as if there's a threat looming. Intel like that doesn't come cheap, and there's got to be something Mordana wants.

"And not only when this little bat," she flaunts her hand and raises the smallest of her digits, "but also my little finger or insider, call it what you want, tipped me off that you are dating that extraordinary fairy, I had to stick my nose in it."

"Dating." I transfix her.

"Captain. Are you alright?" Vine whispers. "You're shaking."

Tingles turn into a wave of trembles, even more so when another of her grins comes widening downright cold. "The good news is, you and my brother have something in common." She grins.

"What are you talking about?" I know where this is headed, and I don't like it.

"I'm asking you to do what's best for monsterkind. Fidr has something exciting in the making, one I won't root for—one of darkness."

"Don't listen to her. Nothing she says could be true. Didn't you hear? Her father's in bed with Fidr. She just wants to offset you, and it's working. Your girlfriend's fine." Rather than looking down, I shake the leg Vine is clutching to get her to stop talking.

Confusion floods my senses. It's a tsunami from a broken dam called duty. And Mordana, like a sorceress, is invoking responsibilities and straddling them on my back as if I agree.

My chest heaves. "First, tell him to fucking stop shoving paper into the fire." I hurl toward Mordana, lungs battling, my chest speeding up to roar at her.

She lowers her palms as if I was about to shoot blindly. "Tyke, the bare minimum I can do not to raise suspicions of our conversation, even after my death, is to burn evidence, as my father instructed. I actually couldn't care less about these documents, but I need to do it. We're being watched, pals."

She knows about the surveillance vans...everything.

"You knew I was coming here." I'm trying hard to settle my lungs, but it's my heart that doesn't want to cooperate.

"Well, I had a little chat with someone. You see, I needed to meet you, Tyke. The big strong orc of New Orc SWAT. And if there's one thing I can say is that you don't disappoint, sexy thing..." She imitates a loud purr, clawing at something invisible. Is she serious...

"So, we waited for the perfect opportunity to arise. And it did, unprecedentedly fast, too," she sniggers. "From then on, everything fell into place. Los Demones is my territory; I own everything. So it was easy to inform my father of your little housebreaking, no questions were asked from him—you know, corruption and all.And so, who does he send to burn his shit?" She waves her eyebrows wryly, but all I can see is someone dissociating herself from fear... "Call me Godsent."

"Cut the crap."

"Your little fairy is in danger, and if you love her, you'll know what to do." Mordana then calls out, "Hugo, darling. Come here."

I say nothing. My heart faints and bounces back harder, only to shrivel again. I need to get back to Fay.

She wraps her arm around Hugo. "Brace yourself, captain."

Blood trickles from her mouth.

"What's happening to you?"

"I took a little potion... poison." Mordana smirks. "Just to be sure I won't wake up like we usually do."

"Your help... it has a price."

"It's a free meal, Tyke, with a dragon as a bonus." She grabs the lizard clamped on her shoulder and nuzzles it before throwing the poor creature at me.

I drop my weapon like an amateur and catch the lizard, which doesn't wait to wrestle with my fingers.

"He likes grasshoppers and meat—but um, yeah, don't give him that—sun, and no..." she lowers her head toward Vine and nods, "it doesn't talk."

"You know..." She gathers herself, lips pursing. "I'll tell you something about this free meal. I don't like my father, and step-mommy even less. They're not too fond of me, either. Maybe it's got to do with the fact that I'm a monster lover. So, when Fidr acci-den-tally kills my beloved Mino—" Something about her smile goes vacant. Her voice stops, drying the room out. For the first time, Mordana relaxes her eyes, beautiful ruby ones, on me. Seconds pass, and a pang laces my ribcage from under my chest, tingling at finding her aching. "Forget it. My song is over."

I step aside to uncover Vine, whose legs are curled up, a small pond of blood on the side—her wound's clotting. The bugger's weapon is drowsing in her dormant grip. The sergeant might be stunned, but not nearly as much as I am.

"Tyke, pick your squirrel up and take a few steps back. Now, I'm counting on you with Magnus. My bet is the two of you will soon become pals for life."Mordana turns to Hugo. "It's time."

"What are you doing?" I bring myself forth. My brain is blank. I don't know what to do. I just know I'm not feeling this.

For the first time, Mordana shows her true smile—genuine, soft, and concerned. "The Night Reign is coming, Tyke." Her eyes steady on mine and long seconds pass as I watch them well up. "Brace yourself."

Light and sound explode.

A coolness comes trickling out of my shattered ears, and I stumble.

In a domino effect, bombs detonate one after another until they reach a critical mass. Everything shakes, roars, and bursts.

"Bell!" Shielding my face with my forearm, I stagger seven feet.

"Argh!" Hurled to the wall, I shout in pain as blood bubbles up my mouth.

It's hard to breathe.

Harder to catch it.

Flashes of heat thunder around me. Even as my eyes shut, they sweep under my lids, beckoning insanity.

I've got just enough time to launch myself on Vine.

She shelters my face as much as I do her body.

Ground leaves us.

We're falling.

I try getting air...

Try not to think.

I wince, tightening my hands against Vine's back, covering everything I can from the impact, the ringing in my ears killing me.

Gravity. The pull of it. Everything rushes.

Until darkness quiets everything, and I...

... space out.

"Tyke."

I growl first.

My left side hurts.

And then my ears awake to sirens blaring in the distance.

I move a few fingers. My hands are stuck behind Vine, and beneath it, sharpness.

A foreign object weighs down my torso, chest, and legs with every swell of the lungs. Something is stuck in my ribs.

"We're trapped under a bulk. I have to exert pressure against you." I hope she doesn't start chatting because I could do with some dead air.

"Never thought I'd have that kind of hug from you."

Yeah... I contract whatever muscle I can and start working with my shoulders and thighs, something needling into the back of my hands as I do. It bulges, and I inner-cheer, carrying slabs the size of a parking slot, something I don't do every day. And with might, I create a gap between us to twist my knees and dump the cemented platform on the side. Dust awakes, coughing up our lungs.

As a mist of particles evaporates, a spear of light lands on us. The sky.

The day is stunning us like light upon some wizard way.

I take a look around. The cathedral's been ripped open. Everything is filled with smoke, tiny sparks of flames, the mad whirring of ambulances and team cars screaming not far.

"Can you see any evidence?"

"How can you still stand?" Vine's two beady eyes gawk at something on my body. As I trace the source of her angst, I find an iron rod hitched under my ribs.

"Never got tusked by behemoths?" I laugh, regretting it already as demonic pain runs up my spine.

"Quit laughing. You need to get to the hospital."

"First evidence. Let's gather what we can."

"Tell me you're not thinking about the mission. You heard Mordana!"

"Evidence for us, not the police..."

She gives me a smile of relief, and her eyes brighten. "Well, if we're going rogue, let me show you what I can do."

"Don't get up."

"Don't need to."

I follow her hands as she ungloves them. "Watch this."

I don't say a word. I focus on Vine's palms as they press to the ground, fingers of incredible strength kneading into the debris.

What's under us begins to tremble, rubble shattering for more, a creaking sound reverberating around us as fragments fall.

She plucks her fingers out from the ground, a cloud of dust rising.

A haze of gray and gold powder lifts, statically hovering before us, glaring sunlight piercing through, bringing speckles to life. She's an earth whisperer, and I had no idea. "Something tells me you're not only a Darinyide..."

"Guilty." Her voice is uneasy. Dark elves are systematically arrested. "Keep my freaky side for yourself."

"Let me guess, mommy got all hot and bothered with a dark lord?"

"He's not that dark." She winks.

She raises her hands and twists them in the ether as if slowly stroking piano keys. Soon, this levitating dust expands in a thinner amalgam of grit, heavy rocks, and roots falling like rain.

"What should I whisper?"

"Paper, bones, anything weapon and fabric."

The eeriest chant slips through her lips. "Felimenius Arc Onaroc Ertirenh Fal." I recognize the word rock and bone, with Elvish and Orcish sharing the same branch. However, it stops there. As my father used to say, 'They might have gotten the magic, but we got the muscle.'

"One paper here... a fragment."

"Twil do."

Vine whirls her hand, and out of the dust clump comes a tear of parchment. She makes it float to my hands.

I grok the one written word. "Fidr's signature."

"Can't prove much," she says, whirling the object closer to my face.

"A name inked with blood?"

She smiles, striking three on her face. "Can do a lot with blood."

The voices and shouts are closing in on us, forcing us to stare at each other. "What now, captain?"

"Debriefing cell, the usual, paperwork and all. Don't mention her name. Keep the story short. Make it boring. Remove the interesting parts. She was crazy, panicking. And made everything spark up."

"And then?"

"I return to New Orc and pretend we were never part of this exchange. But I will brief my lieutenant, El'Mael, that the Los Demones unit is being compromised and?—"

"Are you kidding me?! I'll be arrested and thrown into the Gurnam Swamps. I insulted Fidr right into my mic!"

She's right.

I mark a pause, inserting a magazine into the chamber of my weapon, thinking.

And as I slide back the for-end, "You're out of service," comes out of my mind and mouth in unison.

"Excuse me!?" Vine's face goes white as I let go of the rifle's bolt, causing me to snigger.

I feel the need to clarify. "We. We're out of service. Did you think I was going to smoke you?"

She crosses her arms, wincing. "It's not funny."

A smile hasn't time to lift as I glance down at her thigh."You're ready to go rogue in this state of yours?"

She passes a hand on her thigh and slaps it, and Oh Mother, it must have hurt, but she lifts her clamped smile at me. "I'll bear it if it means avoiding the Gurnam Swamps."

I swing my rifle across my shoulder and look around. Fuck, this place is done. "Alright then. Our first stop is New Orc. Then we cross the border. Just need to pick up a few friends on the way."

Voices from our team sharpen. I rush a worried eye on her as she treads forth. "Friends? Does that include your babydoll?"

"First and foremost."

Vine smiles before taking a hopping step forth.

"We'll have to play our cards right until then. The rest of the squad must be waiting for us. So we'll just have to sit tight until the right moment comes."

She nods.

With a hand under her shoulder, I guide our steps slowly.

"Wait!"

Immediately, I halt, quickly turning my head toward this cry. "What?"

"I need to sit for a while."

"Pain's getting worse?"

"Just a little dizzy." I keep forgetting I'm twice her size, if not three times as thick. I shift her quickly to another posture, slipping an arm underneath her knees and lifting her. Vine doesn't object, taking this orc ride without a second thought.

Ashen smoke is billowing from every corner, the heat permeating my boots. Every footstep I take is accounted for. Rods, glass shards, spiky splinters. I notice my shoes become sticky, soles melting away. We should get out of this inferno. The friction of flesh against flesh causes my side to swell, stirring up the fantasy of someone carrying me. My mind instantly kills this thought, shame-ridden.

I roll my shoulders as I try to ease the pain in my neck and halt all at once. Now that Fay has accepted me as her companion, we are honor-bound. Orc warriors always return with talismans for their mates. It's more than just a custom; it's a matter of pride and respect. There's no way I'm going home without her trophy.

"Why have you stopped?"

"If we're in Hell already, might as well extend our stay a few minutes..." I say, kicking in the grit, ash lifting under my feet, attempting to feel or visualize something that may be fangs. "Can you see any teeth in this mess?"

"Eh?"

My eyes grin. That squeak of hers... "I told you I want to make a necklace."

"We nearly blew up in flames, and you're still hell-bent on making a fucking necklace out of teeth?"

"Are. There. Any. Teeth?"

Her fingers pressure my arm. "Okay..." she blows. "Put me down." She gleams over her back and sighs. "Let's be fast. I don't want to be handcuffed straight away, if you get what I'm saying."

Once more, she brings her hands to the ground, and my lips twitch, especially at this ever-increasing heat sensation under my shoes. "Not too hot?"

"It's fine. I've got gloves."

With Vine's whispers, the eerie begins. Her enchantment weaves through rocks, fire, and ash. Watching a miniature twister roll up, I remain silent. As a child, I was taught that magic was evil, that it carried terrible omens. My left ear flickers inexplicably. This is hard to admit, but having received a mostly fae-centric education with a strange course called philosophy, I think my kind considered magic a threat since we couldn't wield it. A deep exhalation pushes out my lungs. Faerhan citizens are no different. Fear, that's what's causing all the conflict in the country...

"No fangs here. It's gone to ash. Fire and vampires... that's what usually happens. How about a Blackore Datura."

"What's that?" I lower my head, a guttural rasp bouncing up my throat. Dust is raining in my eyes as everything drops to the ground—everything except a floating flower.

"A flower that blooms in the dark, generally from vampire ash. It springs out fast."

My pocket wiggles as I ponder. And as I take a peek inside, this pipsqueak of a dragon shoots out and crawls all the way up—The hell!—to my face!

I fumble, groan, cough, pain roasting my ribs as the savage beast attacks me.

Vine sniggers wildly. I could spank her.

With my finger, I probe for him, my eyes steepening to a place that is... sacred.

And I sigh.

He's clinging to my tusk in the manner of a sloth.

"I think it likes you," Vine gurgles.

"Spare me the comments and bring me the flower... Please."