Fury's Magic (Fury Unbound Book 2)
Glancing around, I pointed to the various ropes and rags strewn around the deck.
“Get everything that might catch fire out of the way. I promise, I’ll try to avoid burning down your boat, but I’m afraid I can’t guarantee it.” I flashed the captain a wry smile.
He returned it with a forced laugh. “Well, if you can’t solve this and get the ghosts off my deck, we might as well burn it down. That would create a fire hot enough, I think.”
“Yes, well, we’ll save that for a last-ditch solution.”
I asked Tam to stand behind me, far enough to keep him from being a target, yet close enough so he could jump in to help. Given he worked with water magic, if the fire broke too high, he might be able to bring the waves up and over the railing to swamp it.
Captain Varga crossed the deck without question when I asked him to relocate himself. He was good at following orders, unlike some men, though I was pretty sure it was all relative. He ruled the boat, but right now, the ghosts had usurped his rule and therefore, he stepped down to let me take care of it. That was a mark of wisdom, Hecate once said: Knowing when to call in an expert. Nobody was good at everything and you had to surrender the helm at times in order to regain your authority.
Queet moved over by Captain Varga. What I was about to do wouldn’t harm him, but he was leery of the bottle. “I don’t know what effect that spell would have on me since I’m already a spirit, but I don’t really want to find out.”
The Psychofágos took up a spot near the bottle. Whatever happened with it wouldn’t affect him. “I believe you will want these spirits near enough to the talisman so it can drag them back to it, regardless of what happens.” He was struggling to keep them under control. They strained at the etheric harnesses with which he had leashed them. “Fast, Fury. Move fast.”
I nodded. We were out of time. I had to do something. I sought deep inside, searching for the spark that burned constantly in my soul. A fire that never felt quenched, it drove me on.
And then, with a bolt of clarity, I knew what to do. I slapped my hand to my leg, against the hilt of the tattoo, and the whip came to life, forming an ethereal weapon in my palm. Gripping the handle, the smooth knot of energy provided a firm hold. I raised the whip overhead and circled it, listening to the crackle as the thong of fire whipped rhythmically around my head.
Center…find the connection, feel the anger in the whip, the fury that rages as it churns through the air over my head… Find the fire that gives the thong form, find that primal force that creates the white-hot lightning.
Something sang out inside—a clear note formed by the white-hot fork of lightning that sparked to life. A mass of flames flared to attention as I brought the whip up, reveling in the sheer destructive power that flowed through my veins. I was the enforcer. The punisher. I was the lightning and fire that raced through the whip. I was the strength of Hecate, bound in ink and flame and ash. I was Fury.
And then, as the power peaked, I brought my whip to bear, triumphantly lashing the tip toward the chest. I envisioned the glass melting, burning everything inside it and attached to it to a fine wisp of ash. My whip connected with the bottle and the next moment, a blinding flare lit up the boat, so brilliant that I had to close my eyes. The boat rocked as thunder cracked all around us, rolling over us like a wave.
Captain Varga dropped to his knees, holding his head. Tam reeled, but he managed to stay standing. The Psychofágos didn’t appear fazed at all, but the ghosts he was holding broke free and went spinning around the boat like crazed dogs, shifting and turning into long, gaunt figures that bore no resemblance to the humans they had once been.
Still luminous and lit by the fire of the divine, I rose up, feeling fierce and wild and absolutely feral. One of the ghosts careened toward me but I lithely jumped to the side, using my blur-speed. Queet whipped past, standing in front of me with arms raised. The frenzied ghost changed direction, skidding as he took new aim and once again barreled toward us.
I screamed for Queet to get out of the way, but he stood fast. As the ghost reached him, Queet blazed, flaring up with a radiant plum-colored light. The ghost put on the brakes, then began to backtrack.
The next moment, all of the ghosts set to howling like wounded wolves, and I turned. The bottle had melted. The bones were disintegrating. The beetles were a pile of dust. As the last of the bones vanished, dropping the now-unrecognizable lump of metal that had been the talisman to the ground, the ghosts faded. They slowly dissipated and, one by one, vanished into oblivion.
I lowered my whip, spent and dripping. I was clammy with sweat, relieved and yet terrified. I had never expended that much energy before, save for once. And that memory had forever remained blank. But now, the radiant scar of electricity buzzed through me and I was high on the power.
Always before, my whip had been the conduit. But this time, my body had channeled the energy, bringing it into the whip. The lightning had driven through me, leaving me numb and yet blazing. I had called down the lightning, and the lightning had answered. I grinned, crazy in love with the bone-charring jolt that had filled every vein full with liquid gold.
Panting, still revved from the jolt, I stared at the chest, which was glowing from the heat of the blast. Everything was gone. The ghosts, the curse, the skeleton’s hand. The Psychofágos vanished without another word. Like I said, he wasn’t into small talk.
The chest itself was distorted, barely recognizable. Any energy that had been attached to it was gone, cleansed by the divine fire. I looked over at Tam, who was making sure the captain was okay. Captain Varga might be a Theosian, but that flash could have knocked anybody onto their knees. A moment later, he shakily stood, using Tam’s shoulder as a brace.
I was still shaking. My entire body felt like it was vibrating. “Are you both all right?”
They nodded. Tam caught my gaze and moved closer, reaching out to barely touch my arm. He began to ground me, bringing me back to my body.
Captain Varga let out a shaky breath. “Are they gone?”
“They are. And they won’t be back.” I toed the misshapen chest. “Get rid of the chest tonight. Call Hecate and she’ll send someone over to collect it and to bless your boat. I don’t have the energy to do that tonight. Meanwhile, I think you’re good to go. You can head back out to open water tomorrow, but in the future, I’d refrain from hauling anything like this aboard. There were lots of weapons lost during the Weather Wars. Some of them are very dangerous.”
I was thinking of the Thunderstrike, an artifact we had recently managed to corral when the Order of the Black Mist decided to try to use it.
“How can I thank you?” Captain Varga leaned against one of the railings, a look of relief washing across his face as the tension in his shoulders eased and he let out a long breath.
It warmed my heart to help him. The man had a shine to him that made me want to cuddle up and watch movies with him, or just snooze away on a lazy day. Perhaps it was because he was a Theosian, but I had the feeling it was deeper than that. My gut told me here was a man we could trust and turn to.
“Pay my fee, and don’t get yourself in trouble again. And touch base when you’re in port. While you might not be able to walk ashore, we can come out to you. Or if you want to spend some time in a field, running, we can probably work out transportation for you.”
A soft light in his eyes told me that was the right thing to say. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had the pleasure of racing through a meadow, with the wind in my face. I might just take you up on that. Meanwhile, let me get you a cash card.” He slipped below deck.
I nodded to the chest. “What do you think, guys? Should we leave that with him?”
“It’s devoid of energy,” Queet said. “There won’t be a problem as long as he puts in the call to Hecate.”
Tam slid his arm around my waist, cautiously avoiding Xan’s scabbard. “Love, we need to go home as soon as you get paid and rest. You need fo
od.”
Nodding, I leaned my head against his shoulder, relishing the scent of cinnamon and apples and freshly mown grass. I was suddenly aware of my body, and everything ached from head to toe. I was also starving, and I wanted nothing more than to drop into bed with some sugary treat, then fall asleep when my belly was full.
Captain Varga returned, handing me a cash card worth five hundred. It was two hundred more than the agreed-on price. I started to argue but he wouldn’t hear any protests. After bidding him good night, we took off, heading toward the Monotrain.
I could hardly wait to get back to Jason’s and get some food. I was drop-dead tired and whispered a quick prayer that the Aboms would keep themselves at bay until morning. Queet was silent, but I could feel him near.
Less than half a mile from the Monotrain, we stumbled into a crowd of late-night revelers. Rowdy and drunk, they were protesting something though I couldn’t read the reader-signs from where we were.
Fury, you need to get out of here. Queet whispered loud enough so both of us could hear. Something’s going down and you don’t want to be here. I don’t know what, but the energy is poised to become very ugly, very quickly.
Tam and I began to skirt around the mob when a noise made everyone in the crowd freeze. Collectively, we turned. A low hum filled the air, and the marching of feet.
Crap. I knew what that hum meant. Every person in Seattle did. It meant Turn around slowly, hands in the air, or risk becoming somebody’s target.
Sure enough, the Devani surged out from between two buildings. Their golden skin gleamed from behind armor equally as blinding, and their brilliant turquoise eyes fastened onto the crowd. Weapons raised, they began to move forward.
Chapter 5
“Oh hell,” I whispered. “My chip. They’ll find out about my chip.”
“Hang on. We’ll get you out. Just play it calm.” Tam gently reached out to place his hand on mine. I wound my fingers through his, but then let go and readied myself to run if we needed to.
“Queet, tell Hecate what’s happening.” I wasn’t sure what she could or would do, but I’d feel much better if she knew.
Without a word, Queet vanished. Once again, I was grateful for my grumpy spirit guide. He may not have signed up for the job, but he had my back.
The Devani marched closer. They were trigger happy, and the golden boys trained their weapons on us. The Devani were natural enemies of the Aboms, but really, when you got down to it, the soldiers from Elysium were just as terrifying as the creatures from Pandoriam. And the Devani had the backing of the government.
The golden boys had come in off the Seattle World Tree only a couple hundred years ago. Before that, the Conglomerate relied on humans and Otherkin for their police and military forces, but in the Devani, they found their perfect conscripts.
They came from the realm of Elysium, the golden-skinned warriors with turquoise blue eyes. Straight shouldered, they were clone-like. It was difficult to tell them apart, save for whether they were male or female. Even among themselves, they communicated by what linguists decoded were series of numbers and sounds. The Devani showed no emotion. There were no recorded instances of a Devani crying, or offering help in anything but a military fashion. In fact, they were so ruthless and focused that at first humans thought they were robots or AI. But all it took was one skirmish where blood was drawn for that theory to be dismantled.
When that first brutal battle ended, with humans barely managing a win, the Devani had lay down their weapons and acknowledged their loss by pledging to serve the victors. Which apparently meant anyone who lived on this side of the World Tree who had authority.
Their actions rocked the world. Their loss had been a fluke, only through some backhanded strategies pulled by our forces. Everything was recorded in the history books. Humans played dirty, and they played to win. The Devani marched to a rigid code. The two systems were vastly different and the Conglomerate had used those differences to wrangle control. Now the Americex Corporatocracy was the most feared nation in the world. Apparently the Devani had only shown up in our corporatocracy. Sadly, the people of our nation feared the police as much as the rest of the world did.
So, the Devani’s authority grew as the Conglomerate relied on them more and more. And the Devani’s ethical code was slowly bending to match that of the government’s. Which meant that the Devani were learning how to buy power.
I kept my eyes on the approaching soldiers, raising my hands. Their stunners were supposed to be set on incapacitate, but that rule was often “accidentally” overlooked.
The woman next to me was weeping. I glanced over at her. She was human, and a young boy stood next to her, eyes wide. He couldn’t have been more than ten or eleven years old.
“What’s happening?” I lowered my voice but did not move, my hands firmly in the air.
Her hands were upraised too, as were her son’s. “We were staging a peaceful protest against the Restructuring Law that’s being enacted.”
I had heard of the Restructuring Law. It was brutal. If a citizen fell into arrears on their mortgage, or if they couldn’t pay their taxes, their rights would be terminated until they managed to pay off their debt. They weren’t forced out of their home, but anybody who belonged to their immediate family was subject to involuntary government service at slave wages and the money would then be applied toward the back debt. The only exceptions were children still in Under School, those who were infirm or disabled to the point of not being able to work, and those who were already employed.
“I already pay most of my wages to them. We barely have enough to eat or to pay our rent. If they pass the law, the interest alone will swamp us. My children will inherit a crushing load of debt. And my son won’t be able to continue studying beyond Under School. His life will be mired down because my husband died and left us in a hole so deep that I don’t know how to get out of it.” Tears streamed down her face. “I just wanted to protest how unfair it is. That’s all.”
I glanced over at the Devani. They were poised, weapons at the ready. Mist rising from the sewer grates began to cloak the area as the clouds socked in. The atmosphere was so thick I could barely breathe, and I could feel the fear that was beginning to build. Fear had a way of taking on a life of its own.
I leaned toward Tam, cautious to keep my hands where the Devani could see them. I had faced a lot of Abominations in my time, but this was more frightening than any of them.
Usually, the Devani order the crowd to disperse. Tam’s whisper-speak was at the lowest range, but I managed to catch it. I wonder why they haven’t done so yet.
Maybe… A horrible thought crossed my mind. Were they now refusing to give the crowd a chance to surrender? Protest wasn’t against the law, but the laws could change daily.
I didn’t have a chance to finish my thought because one young man, probably no older than fifteen, threw a bottle at one of the Devani closest to him, and the storm broke. The Devani waded into the crowd, their stunners buzzing. Their victims writhed on the ground, screaming from the painful jolts of electricity running through their bodies. Stunners could kill, but apparently this time, they were set to disable rather than destroy.
Tam pushed me to the side as one of the soldiers headed our way. “Run, Fury. You can run at blur-speed. Get out of here while I distract him.”
“Not without you—”
“Your chip, Fury. I don’t have any. I’m not required to have them. I’m safer than you are.” He gave me another push, his gaze holding mine for a moment. “Go, love. I’ll be there shortly.”
My heart was telling me to stay, but my head was wrapping around the realization that he was right. I raced away at blur-speed and then, as I hit the intersection in the middle of the street, I raised my arms and clasped my hands over my head, transporting to the Crossroads. The last thing I saw before I vanished was the soldier taking Tam down with the stunner.
The mist rose around me as I landed
in the world between worlds. The Crossroads bordered a number of realms and dimensions, and the deities associated with the Crossroads were legion. Although I had seen several of the others out here—including Papa Legba—my business here was always with Hecate.
I always arrived at the same place when I shifted over. I would end up in a barren juncture where three roads intersected, in a barren field that stretched beyond the horizon, dotted only with a few scattered trees and boulders, and a bench here and there along the road. I always landed in the center of the intersection, next to a low cauldron that rested in front of a signboard. I had read the sign so many times that it was burned into my memory.
Stand at the Crossroads
State your claim
To seal the deal,
Strike the flame
I dropped to my knees, resting my hands on the ground as I reached out, trying to summon Queet. “Queet, are you near? Can you hear me? I’m on the Crossroads.”
Nothing.
Exhausted from the evening and worried about Tam, I dragged myself to my feet and wandered over to a nearby bench, slumping down on it. I couldn’t go back to Portside right now. If I appeared in the middle of the skirmish, they’d catch me. I’d have to head for Jason’s house instead.
Fury? I’m here. His whisper-speak faint, Queet appeared by my side. He looked translucent, which wasn’t a good sign. His energy field looked wavy, like bad reception on the viseo.
Are you all right? Something was wrong with him. You don’t look so good, Queet. You look faded.
No, actually. Hecate will tell you. I’ll be all right, though. I just need a little rest. But I told her what was happening. She told me to tell you to go to Jason’s place. Text her once you’re there. She gave me this for you.
He handed me a talisman. It looked at ethereal as he did, but when I held out my hand, he dropped it into my palm and it landed, solid as I was.