Maelstrom: Glimmer

A SteelClaw Story

By Kahreen and Vashkoda 
Illustrations by Kahreen 

"This-" said the female as she stepped out of the mists, "-is the Between. You were here once before when you were taken from your own time to be placed where you needed to be.  I am Ceridwen, this is Calun," the female said, indicating her companion. "We have been watching your clan, guiding them where we could."

Ceridwen closed her eyes and let her worries drift away.  Her breathing and heartbeat slowed, until their pattern matched the almost imperceptible rhythm of the Between.

She opened her eyes--or rather, she opened her awareness to the world around her, for she no longer had a body--and saw nothingness.  This was the true Between, stripped to it's bare essence.

I must exist, because my mind exists; she reassured herself, as she had done many times before.  She resisted the temptation to see what would happen if she suddenly denied that self-awareness.  If she began to doubt that a part of her still lived, would she succumb to the nothingness and cease to be?

She hastily pushed those musings aside; careless thoughts were dangerous in a world where reality could be shaped by the mind alone.  Indeed, if she wanted to, she could alter the landscape around her right now with a simple whim.  She could also change the laws of motion, space and time in the surrounding area.  As far as she knew, the Between had no original shape or laws or substance.  It was defined solely by the parameters set in the minds of those who lived there.  

She and Calun agreed that the function of the once empty realm must have been to serve as a barrier, since the Between shared a border with all other dimensions.  Theoretically, this would also make it an ideal conduit to travel from any one world to another, provided a way could be found to break through the barrier.  A cult of evil sorcerers had indeed discovered a way, and succeeded in weakening the Between's boundary with a dark dimension, allowing evil to seep into it.  The next step would have been to rip a hole in the Between's boundary with the Earth plane, completing the passageway.  But she, Calun, and four other brave individuals had countered their spell, preventing a horde of demons from completing their journey across dimensions.

Now those demons were stuck in the Between, as she and Calun were.  Occasionally souls of creatures from other dimensions would also find their way inside, for the spell had rendered all the Between's boundaries unstable.  Should the sorcerers try again, it would now be much easier to create a rift between worlds.  And Ceridwen knew they would try again.  The sorcerers had not given up.  The demons were simply biding their time.

But these were old thoughts, and Ceridwen pushed them aside to concentrate on the matter at hand.  Days ago...yet what was a day in this place?  All right then, a short span of time ago, she had begun to sense a change in the Between's rhythm.  The Between itself was not alive, but like a fragile web, it was built on a pattern.  It was as if something had begun tugging at the web, trying to unravel it.  Ceridwen concentrated and bent her will to the task of restoring the rhythm.  Slowly, it was taking shape again, coming back together--

Her peripheral senses detected a change in the landscape nearby.  Someone was shaping it with their mind.  This was a dangerous thing to do, as it alerted any demons in the vicinity that a person was near.  If the approaching creature were itself a demon, it would doubtless engage Ceridwen in a contest of wills over who could exert the most control over the field.  If the demon were stronger, it would trap Ceridwen and torment her.  It was safer just to avoid such encounters, but Ceridwen worried that if she left now and let the pattern continue unraveling, she might not be able to find the strands again and repair it.

Suddenly there was ground underneath her.  Light shined down from an invisible source, and a warm breeze blew.  Flowers sprouted from the ground and birds began to sing.  Ceridwen relaxed.  No demon would create such a place.  It must be--

"Sorry I'm late; your presence was hard to locate.  Ah, that explains it, you have stripped away your form."

Ceridwen spared a moment of concentration to conjure up a body for herself.  Once again she had eyes to see, and more importantly, a mouth with which to speak.  

"I am busy, Calun.  The Between is being tampered with."

The blue horned gargoyle looked thoughtful.  "Kymon reports that the demons have been unusually restless lately.  Perhaps these things are connected?"

More and more strands were unraveling.  It now took all of Ceridwen's will to hold the pattern in place, and she could only nod at Calun's suggestion.  The male gargoyle now watched her worriedly.

"I hope we are wrong, but we cannot afford the risk if it is so.  I will summon the others here--they must deliver the message to Steelclaw before it is too late!"

*     *     *

Never before had the eastern horizon come under such scrutiny. But for this clan of gargoyles it wasn’t the sun they were waiting for, but a strange kind of dawn, a possible new start - or an end.

“This is wrong,” Madbrook said, scanning the tree line. “More of us should have gone.”

“He’s right,” agreed Malachi. “This has ‘trap’ written all over it.”

“Which is why only Flynt and Cesar went,” Vashkoda reminded them, growling softly. “But I don’t like it any more than you do. If Zentech did manage to do what they claimed and brought Kahreen back from the dead, then they had to have known she was dying.”

“Which means that they’ve been keeping tabs on us all this time,” Ed said.

Vash nodded.

“So do you think they did bring her back?” Llewelyn asked. It was a change in the conversation, but this was the other great question they held in their minds. “Y’know, grabbed her soul and stuck it in a new body? ‘Cause I’d like to believe it, but… it just seems too good to be true.”

“I know,” Vash sighed. “And it was just the thing that Zentech and Mord would have needed to bring Cesar to them. They would have known that the offer to return his mate to him would have been too tempting for Flynt.”

“But Flynt wasn’t going to give them Cesar, he offered himself,” Ansalong pointed out. “Though I didn’t see Flynt put up much resistance once he did,” she added.

“Shut up, Ans,” hissed Llewelyn, turning to face the vampire. Ansalong said nothing in reply; she merely raised her hands and stepped backwards.

“There they are!” Chaz’s young voice called from the roof of the cabin. He had moved up there as soon as the clan had ventured outside to await Flynt’s return. “He’s got her!” he cried, excitement entering his voice. “I can see him carrying her!”

He was right, Flynt was now visible, gliding towards the cabin. In his arms was a winged figure, one with red hair.

Madbrook raised an eyeridge as he glanced at Vash. “Well, so far…”

“…So good,” said Vash as she strode forward to meet Flynt.

The tan gargoyle landed a short distance from the cabin. For a moment he didn’t even acknowledge the clan; his attention was fixed on the female gargoyle as he gently set her down to stand on her own feet.

As she approached them, Vash coughed lightly to get their attention. At first Flynt looked up, seemingly surprised to see anyone there, and then a moment later a smile crossed his face. “They weren’t lying to us, Vash. They did have her.”

“So I see.” Vash returned his smile and turned to his companion. “Kahreen?”

A pair of weary eyes glanced at her and then away again as the female lowered her head and fixed her attention on the ground. Vash frowned and looked at Flynt for an answer.

“She’s been through a lot in the past twenty-four hours,” he said in way of explanation. “She’s probably tired and very confused right now.”

“That’s understandable,” Vash agreed, stepping to one side as Flynt steered Kahreen towards the cabin. “What about Cesar?” she asked as they passed her.

“He went with them, Vash,” he said, his voice now tinged with guilt. “I can’t tell you any more than that.”

“I see. It seems that we underestimated him.”

“I guess we did.” They came to a stop by the steps that led to the cabin. “But we’ll never forget what he’s done for us,” he added as the clan gathered around them.

If Flynt had been worried that the closeness of so many gargoyles might have been too much for his beloved, those fears were quickly put to rest. As the clan welcomed her back, Kahreen seemed to become more aware of what was going on around her, regarding the others with an intense curiosity. Not once did she speak, but the others seemed to ignore that. They were just happy that she was alive.

“Welcome back, Kahreen!” Chaz cried as the youngster jumped down from the roof to land near Kahreen, then impulsively wrapped his arms around her and hugged her. This act, more than anything, seemed to elicit a response. She brought her hands up and rested them on the boy’s shoulders. She smiled and began to speak. “C…C-”

“Yes! I’m Chaz!” he smiled back at her. “You remember me!”

“Kill,” Kahreen said in response, as her hands closed around his neck. Before any of the others had a chance to react, she pushed him through the open cabin door and slammed it shut behind her.

For a moment the others stood in stunned silence, barely comprehending what had just happened. It was Chaz’s bewildered, terrified scream that broke through and spurred them into action.

Flynt was the first through the door, closely followed by Silver. At first there was no sign of them, but then a choked gurgle, followed by an insane giggle, drew them further into the living room. There, on the floor, were Kahreen and Chaz, the former’s hands wrapped around the latter’s throat.

“Kahreen! No!” Flynt cried as he barreled into the female and pried her hands away from Chaz. She screamed in rage and frustration as he wrapped his arms around her, knocking him backwards as she managed to get one of her wings free. By this time the entire clan had entered the cabin and now formed a wall separating the female from her victim. Undaunted, she managed to escape Flynt and immediately launched herself forward with a roar, lashing out at anyone who stood in her way.

“What are you doing?” Flynt cried as he reached her. “They’re you’re clan, your family! Why?” His desperate question was answered as she turned to him and laughed. “Kill,” she said, turning on him. She didn’t get very far as Madbrook and Malachi grabbed both of her arms.

“This isn’t Kahreen!” Madbrook shouted as he struggled with her. “She’s a programmed clone. Zentech created her just to kill, she – ah!” He cried out as ‘Kahreen’ brought her foot down on top of his and gouged at his leg with her clawed toes. The shock of the blow made him loosen his grip just enough for her to free her arm and jab the elbow sharply back into his gut.

What happened next was so fast, so quick, that no one had time to think. They acted only on instinct. As Madbrook crumpled forward, the clone wrenched her other arm free from Malachi and brought it down sharply, meaning to slice open Madbrook’s throat.

The blow never fell. Flynt had leapt up and snatched her arm, pulling her sharply forward. His other hand reached out and grabbed the first thing it came across.

He never meant to do it. He had only meant to knock her out, maybe just injure her enough to be able to subdue her. But something went wrong. She moved—or perhaps he did—and the blow that was supposed to land on her shoulder landed squarely on her chest.

The clone’s eyes opened wide in surprise and she glanced up at him before looking down at the poker that was now embedded in her chest. She frowned and looked back up at him before she slumped slowly down on the floor.

* * *

“What?” Her mind grasped its first coherent thought in an eternity. Before this, all she remembered were dreams, twisting and confusing. She’d had the feeling that she’d been everywhere and nowhere at the same time, pulled one way and then another. Then there had been the people, figures that coalesced and, as they reached for her, blew apart like dandelion seeds on the wind.

Then came her second thought – her name. It was the key that opened the door to her memories, her emotions, and a question about her status. She had died; she remembered that, held in strong loving arms until the pull of the world – and that of her own body - had ceased to matter. She’d been going somewhere and then – a shiver ran through her – hands, colder than she had ever experienced, reached out and grabbed her and pulled her elsewhere.

But where was she? Where had she been taken? As she became aware of other things, the weight of a body, the sounds around her, whispering and…and chanting? There was something else, something that overlaid all other noises. A humming, low and constant. She could hear it and she could feel it run through her body. She opened her eyes and immediately wished she hadn’t.

Hell… Hades… any such name would have fit what she saw. Above was a sky that boiled, heavy, expectant…pregnant. Below her was darkness; not the absence of light, but something more, something older. This was what existed before light ever came into being, a blackness that stretched away forever, just waiting for her to drop in. Around her were figures, robed, difficult to see except one. This one she recognized, a face from recent memory, always hanging in the background, never coming forward but seeming content enough to just be around them. But in all her memory, never before had she seen such an expression of horror. He was shouting something, but whatever it was she couldn’t make it out. His voice was just another background noise to that humming. She turned her head so that she was looking at him. His eyes widened and he began shouting something at her. She frowned, trying to read his lips, but it was hard; he was shouting too quickly, but the words were there.

“…rry…ot to…ight it Kahreen…you’ve got to…”

******

“Fight it!” Cesar shouted, doubling his efforts to free himself from the circle. “Ah’m so sorry! Ah didn’t know what they were gonna do but you’ve got to fight it, fight them!”

“Be quiet!” The four-armed woman hissed. “There is nothing you can do, so be silent!”

“Go to hell!” he roared back at her before turning to Kahreen once again. “See? Y’ve already got them worried. I don’t think they expected you to wake up, so fight them! Show them who they’re messing with!”

Around him the other participants in the circle glanced at each other. Awake or unconscious, the status of the gargoyle wouldn’t make a difference, but something was wrong. They should have broken through by now. The boundary between this world and the Between had already been weakened. It shouldn’t have taken much more to break through. All eyes turned to the gaunt-faced man for an answer. His eyes were closed, his face a study in deep concentration. Eventually he spoke.

“Something impedes us,” he said. His voice, although soft, carried across the room, and even Cesar fell silent as the man continued. “On the other side, a force is repairing every rent we make. It is one of the beasts who thwarted our ancestors, who remained in the Between.” He opened his eyes and beckoned at the assembled throng of demons. “You two!”

As if pulled by an invisible string, two demons approached the man. Somehow Cesar wasn’t entirely shocked when one of them turned out to be the demon currently wearing Varges’ body. The other one he didn’t recognize. It looked like a polar bear save that it walked on its hind legs and had two blood red horns growing from the top of its head.

“Go to the Between,” the man commanded. “Find that interfering creature and destroy it!” The two demons nodded and then vanished.

For a moment, Cesar stared at the spot where the demons had been, then glanced at the black pit below Kahreen. So things weren’t going these bastards’ way after all. There were others out there who were fighting against this and doing well by the sounds of things. Doing well but unaware that they were about to be faced with an unknown threat.

It was a stupid idea, really, but bound to the circle as he was, his voice was the only weapon available to him, and so he leant over, took a deep breath and shouted into the void at the top of his lungs.

“Watch out!” Something’s coming after you!”

*     *     *

Blood…there was so much blood.  Too much, it seemed, to have been contained within a single body.

Flynt stood, frozen in horror.  He didn’t seem to notice anything beyond the blood on his hands and the corpse that lay sprawled on the floor before him, a corpse that wore the face of his beloved.

Around him the clan picked themselves up off the floor, their gazes drawn to Flynt and the doppelganger that Zentech had placed in their midst. Silver fussed over her son, concerned about the bruises that were appearing on his neck. She had moved so that she was crouched between Chaz and what lay beyond. She didn’t want him to see; didn’t want him to suffer any more than he already had.

Vashkoda was the first to speak, moving towards Flynt and gently leading him away. The tan gargoyle didn’t offer any resistance. It seemed as if his resistance to anything had drained from him.

“That wasn’t her, Flynt,” she said, following Silver's example by standing in front of him and using her wings to block the horrible sight from view.  She glanced over her shoulder and noted that some of the clan had recovered enough to cover the corpse with whatever was available. She looked back at Flynt.  “It wasn’t Kahreen," she repeated.

Flynt blinked slowly. “I killed her."

“What you finished off was some pre-programmed clone that Zentech sent to finish us off," said Malachi. “And I bet those twisted bastards are rolling about on the floor laughing at the joke they played on us.”

“How do we know?” Flynt pushed Vash aside and took a few faltering steps towards the pathetic bundle on the floor. “How do we know that they didn’t just brainwash her?”

Shaiya stepped forward shaking her head. “Because they want to torment us. They want to make us dwell upon the possibilities and become lost in them.  It doesn’t matter who or what that was, what matters is that the ones responsible for this will pay.”

“You’re crazy, Shaiya.” Silver almost spat the words out. “Listen to yourself. Go after Zentech again? Who will they murder next time? Who will they torment?” She drew Chaz close to her. “They will tear us apart one by one. Too many lives have been lost already! Too much blood has been shed!  It has to stop!”

In a room that had once been saturated with grief, the flames of anger and fear sparked.

“Silver, they sent something that tried to throttle the life out of your son! You’re not seriously suggesting we let them get away with this are you?!” Llewelyn stood with her fists clenched, flames licking up her forearms.

“Look who’s talking, Llewelyn!” snapped Ansalong.  “Look where your little vengeance expedition to Zentech got us!”

“Face it. We may have come up against an enemy we can’t beat.”

“Oh, so you want us to take the coward's way out, do you?”

“Coward?”

“SHUT UP ALL OF YOU!” Flynt’s roar shook the cabin to its foundations. “Is this what Kahreen and I came back to? A clan so caught up in its own petty differences that it can focus on nothing else?” He glared at the clan, his eyes burning. “Out! Out all of you.”

“Flynt…” Vash began, only to be cut off by the tan gargoyle.

“Out!” he repeated. “Get all of your belongings and go to K… go to the ship. None of us are able to think clearly while we stand in this charnel house.”

Wordlessly, the clan obeyed, picking up their meager possessions as they stepped out of the cabin.  Flynt was the last to leave.  Crouching down by the corpse, he pulled away the fabric that covered her face. For a long moment, he stared at the features that only minutes ago were contorted into a mask of complete rage, but were now peaceful. It was in that face that Flynt sought an answer. In his mind, three paths lay before him, each as difficult as the next. 

“Even if you are not her,” he whispered, “even so you didn’t deserve this path in life that they made you take.” He closed his eyes as the first tears slid down his cheeks. “I’m sorry.” With those words, his expression hardened, the tears dried up, and Flynt covered her face once more.  He had come to his decision.

Outside, the clan watched in silence as Flynt emerged from the cabin and joined them. “Llewelyn?”

“Yes Flynt?”

Flynt turned to face the cabin. “Burn it.”

“Flynt?”

“Whoever that was, deserves some dignity.” He turned back to the clan.

“The Wind Ceremony,” Vash said.

Flynt nodded. “We don’t have the time to perform all of it. But…”

“It’s what every gargoyle deserves,” Sabrina agreed. “To be reunited with the wind.”

“Yes.” Flynt turned to Llewelyn. She nodded and gathered a fireball in her hands and threw it through the open door. The cabin was old, no more than tinder wood, and within seconds it—and its contents—were ablaze.

“And may the wind take you to some world better than this,” Flynt said softly under his breath as he glanced at the clan, Gargoyle, New Olympian, halfling, mother, child, mate. Something stabbed at his soul as those last two words crossed his mind. So much pain in so short a time, his mind was still reeling, his emotions still bloody and torn, and yet in front of these thirteen--no, these fifteen individuals, he couldn’t let it show.

Suddenly finding that he couldn’t watch the flames any longer, Flynt turned and began walking back to the ship. “It’s time to go.”

Vashkoda fell into step beside him. “And where are we going?”

“Anywhere, somewhere...as long as it’s away from here. Madbrook?” he called over his shoulder.

“Yes?” Madbrook turned away from the fire.

“You’ll pilot.” Madbrook nodded and limped towards the ship.

"Just as long as I get to man the weapons," interjected Malachi, smiling in grim anticipation.  "I think I've got the hang of those controls now."

“What have you got planned?”

“Tonight, nothing.” Flynt sighed. “Tomorrow at sunset, we’ll decide what needs to be done.”

“That’s assuming the world will still be here tomorrow night.”

The voice, unexpected and unknown, had an electric effect on the clan. Malachi—who was closest to mysterious speaker—whipped around and lunged at a gray-cloaked figure that had suddenly appeared…passing straight through it.  The horned gargoyle spluttered as he landed face first in the dirt, and in the moment it took for him to get back on his feet, the first cloaked figure had been joined by a smaller yet similarly attired companion. “Who are…you?” he trailed off as the events of the past few moments finally caught up with his mind. He took a step backwards. “Spirits…” he breathed.

“Which one of you is Flynt?” the taller of the two wraiths spoke.

"I am,” Flynt said, stepping forward. “But your visit is ill-timed and unwelcome. We have suffered too much to be toyed with any more tonight.”

“I know what you’ve been through, but believe you me it’s going to get a lot worse. Ceridwen sent us to warn you-” the taller figure pulled down his cowl and Flynt found himself staring into the amber eyes of a dark-skinned human, "-and to ask for your help. You and she are already aquatinted, I believe.”

Flynt nodded. Although it had been over a year, he still remembered a land filled with mist and the two gargoyles he had encountered there. “When I was suffering the effects of poisonous gas; yes I remember.” He frowned. "Why should I believe that you come from her? Do you have proof?"

The figure appeared startled at Flynt's request, then grumbled impatiently, "We haven't got time for proof.  Ceridwen needs your help and she needs it now!"

"So now you demand our help?" Flynt strode towards the spirit until he stood towering over the newcomer. "You offer not one shred of evidence to prove you are telling the truth, yet you expect us to believe you and follow your orders like fools?"  His eyes flared.  Flynt stabbed his finger in the direction of the burning shack. "What remains of the last person we trusted lies burning in that fire.  I will not have that again. We will trust no one." The last words escaped his lips in a hiss.

The anger and frustration that Flynt felt was mirrored in the human's eyes. The man didn't flinch, however, nor did he back away or show any sign of fear.  Had it been under different circumstances, Flynt might have found himself admiring such a trait.  But this was not a typical day in the life of the clan. This was a night that had begun with sorrow and then taken a twisted ride through hope, fear, horror and betrayal, and Flynt had had enough. And so, it seemed, had the human.

"I know you're in pain!  I know you're grieving, but don't let that turn you into a complete fool, Flynt! I can't show you anything that will make you believe me, but you have to!  You--"

"But we do have proof, Kymon," the smaller spirit spoke for the first time. Flynt turned as the second of the clan's visitors lowered his hood to reveal the features of a young gargoyle child. The child turned to address Flynt. "Ceridwen told you that there was something that bound your clan together, and that you had an important role to play in the future. Do you remember that?"

"I...remember..." said Flynt, stunned that one so young could have been sent as a messenger. What had happened to him? What had happened to his clan? He shivered as a chill ran up his left arm. The human--what had the child called him? Kymon?--had laid, or attempted to lay his hand on Flynt's arm.

When he knew he had Flynt's attention, he spoke. "He's right, and now that future is here."  The man gestured towards Sabrina and Madbrook, who were currently exchanging wide-eyed glances. “You’re not the only one in your clan to have met Ceridwen. These two have also had the pleasure of knowing her.”

“But that was thousands of years ago!” exclaimed Sabrina.

“And she still remembers you and gives you her thanks for what you did.”

Flynt’s eyes narrowed “Who are you?”

“My name is Kymon,” the human said. “Before I died, I was the companion of your mate.”

“You knew Kahreen?”

“Yes, and I’d like to have the chance to get to know her again.”

“You can’t, she’s…”

“Dead?” Kymon shook his head. “No, but if you don’t listen and believe what I have to tell you, then not only will Zentech murder her, but she’s going to be consigned to oblivion. No afterlife, no second chances...nothing.”

“What do you mean?” Flynt couldn’t help himself. Common sense told him that this had to be another stab in the back courtesy of their enemy. This he shouldn’t trust this shadow of an emissary not matter who he claimed to be bringing messages from. And yet…and yet there was a part of him that was attracted to this glimmer of hope, much like a moth to a flame.

“Zentech needs your mate, both body and soul intact.” Kymon walked forward, his feet passing through the blades of grass and rocks that lay between him and the gargoyle. “They need her to be the conduit and sacrifice that will let them rip a hole between this world and another dimension. The same spell that Ceridwen and your clanmates thwarted thousands of years ago.”

"She's the sacrifice?" spoke up Sabrina, looking worriedly at Madbrook.  "Remember what happened to Gromer?" she added faintly.

"Gromer wasn't the sacrifice, he was merely the bait to draw the demons to the portal," explained Kymon.  "The human sorcerers never managed to deliver their sacrifice—that is why you and the others were able to counteract their spell."  His golden eyes flashed angrily.  "Now we are the ones who are unprepared.  As we stand here talking, their spell draws closer to completion, and Kahreen risks being lost forever."

"What must we do?" asked Flynt, abandoning his suspicions in the face of this new threat.  "Just tell us how to save her!"

"Balance..." said Madbrook, whose cybernetically-enhanced memory was never wrong.  "Anemos said we needed a counterbalance to their spell.  The right number of participants at the other end of the barrier, and a sacrifice of our own."

"That's right," agreed Kymon.  "But it will be more difficult this time.  The Zentech directors are the descendants of those human sorcerers, and of other, far darker things.  They don't have the power their ancestors wielded on Atlantis, so instead of casting the spell anew, they have settled for completing the one that was left unfinished.  That means that the conditions for casting and for stopping the spell must be as close to the original as possible.  That is why it was important that the directors be descendants of the original six sorcerers.  That is why your friend Cesar was needed."

"You mean Cesar was one of them all along!" growled Malachi.  "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"He didn't know, and he is being forced to participate.  Now I'm afraid I must ask the same of you," Kymon told them, looking around at the assembled group.  "Cerwiden and Calun are still in the Between.  Sabrina and Madbrook, you will need to come as well."  The two gargoyles nodded, having expected this.

"Gromer and Anemos's descendants must also join us," the human stated, looking at two clan members in particular.

Silver and Ed did a double take, exchanging surprised glances.  "You mean us?" asked Ed meekly.

"You are both of New Olympain descent.  You possess powers similar to those of your ancestors," said Kymon.  "Cerwiden has been keeping an eye on you.  When you all came together to form this clan, she knew that powerful forces were at work, setting things in motion to prepare for a time such as this.  And now-"

"Kymon, we have to hurry," cried the small gargoyle, urgently tugging his arm.  It seemed the two sprits could still make physical contact with each other.  "Cerwiden says two creatures have been sent to the Between to stop us."

The human's face creased with worry.  "All right then, this makes our job easier.  If they've sent two of their forces, we can send an extra two of ours."

"I'm going," said Flynt.  Some in the clan looked like they wanted to protest, but knew better than to speak out against their leader.

"Me too," said Ansalong.  "I've been itching for a good fight since I got here."

"If you're going, so am I," challenged Gigi.

"Weren't you listening?  Only one other person can go, and I called it first!" growled Ans.

"Those who go may not be coming back," Kymon reminded them.

"Yeah, so?" replied Ans with her usual nonchalance.

Madbrook and Sabrina whispered softly to each other, then Sabrina walked over to Llewelyn.

"Llew, if something happens...could you take care of our child?"

The long-horned gargoyle looked at her sister in shock.  "Y-you sure?  I mean, of course I will if you want me too, but I...uh...I know I'm not the most responsible person in the clan.  Goodness knows what would happen if I ever had a kid of my own."  She laughed nervously.

"You'll do a great job, Llew," said Sabrina, giving her a hug in encouragement.  "Chaz simply adores you."

"Oh...ok then.  Thanks Sab.  I'm really honored...."  Llew seemed at a loss for words.  "Thanks," she repeated softly. 

"We will take some precautionary measures, all the same," Kymon told them.  "When you are in the Between, someone here on Earth will remain linked with you, acting as your anchor so that you have a way to return."

"Gee, that's reassuring," muttered Ed.

"Choose your anchor—quickly now," said Kymon.  A vortex of swirling blue energy had begun to form in front of them.

They paired up.  Chaz stood next to his mother.  Gigi frowned sullenly at Ans, but joined her side.  Cairo and Malachi came to stand before Sabrina and Madbrook.  Vashkoda volunteered to pair herself with Ed.

"Tethys will go with you," Kymon said to Flynt before anyone else could volunteer.  The young gargoyle looked as surprised as Flynt.

"There must be a bond or common trait shared between the traveler and the anchor," Kymon quickly explained.  "All right then, there will only be a brief moment of pain before-"

Those who had been designated as the 'anchors' suddenly gasped and fell forward, stunned.  The others rushed to their sides worriedly, but Kymon urged them towards the portal.

"They are fine.  Now hurry, you must cross into the Between.  Ceridwen is waiting for you."

"Is it too late for me to mention that I think this is a really bad idea?" piped up Ed.

"In you go," said Flynt gruffly, grabbing the back of Ed's shirt and tossing him through the opening.

The others looked at each other doubtfully as they approached.  What would they find on the other side?  Only Madbrook and Sabrina knew the answer.

"Be on your guard," the orange gargoyle said, before they each took a step forward into oblivion.

*     *     *

The winds screeched in warning as dark clouds gathered in the usually clear skies above Avalon.  The gargoyles on the island assumed it was the work of Lord Oberon, whose mood the weather often reflected.  Familiar with his foul temper, those who had been fortunate enough to avoid guard duty made sure to stay out of sight of the castle. 

But the fey on the island knew better.  They could sense that this wasn't the work of Oberon, but of something more powerful—if that was even possible.  The fey, who loved control above all else, were terrified when that control was taken from them.  In the face of this unknown threat, they drew as much of Avalon's energy as their bodies could hold, hoping to find courage and comfort in their powers.  

Only one among them knew what was coming.  The Ferryman had navigated the borders of the Between often enough to recognize what he was seeing when the sky suddenly ripped open and revealed an empty darkness beyond.  He ran at once to Oberon's throne room.  The lord of the fey was watching the sky through one of the palace windows, his unease evident.

"M'lord, somethins happenin' in the Between," the Ferryman reported breathlessly.  "I've be'n feelin' it fer hours now, but it's just gotten a hella lot worse."

Oberon's frown deepened as he studied the lesser fae.  "Why did you not speak of this sooner, Charon?  How has it suddenly 'gotten worse'?"

Charon kept his head bowed so that he wouldn't have to see his lord's face.  "M'lord, I think the Between's gotten all tilty-like.  It ain't balanced; too many souls on one end and not enuf on t'other.  It can't take the pressure, sire.  Sometin's gonna blow."

"Explain!" Oberon demanded.  But he need not have bothered.

Four colossal creatures erupted out of the hole in the sky.  Rather than fly towards the island, they continued straight over the sea until they disappeared into the mists.

'They...they's gone o'er to the mortal world!" cried Charon, who had joined Oberon at the window as soon as the winged beasts had appeared.  The lord of the fey snorted and strolled over to his throne, lowering himself gracefully into his seat.

"Very good.  It has now become their problem."

Charon stared at his lord wordlessly, his mouth hanging open.  His attention was once again drawn to the window as a large fiery bird called out a challenge.  With just a few flaps of its wings, the creature had already reached the sea and vanished.

"Phoenix," said Oberon contemptuously, recognizing the cry.  The Weird Sisters suddenly materialized in the throne room. 

"He dared to leave without permission," Oberon announced to them.  "Therefore he must be punished.  Return Pheonix here immediately."

"My lord," spoke the light-haired one.  "We cannot do this."

Oberon arched an eyebrow.  "And why not?"

The three sisters exchanged glanced.  At length, the dark one spoke.

"Because he is already dead."

< part 18 | index | part 20 >