“It’s remarkable that she killed a Hunt Hound
on her own. Your ancestors called them Barghests and Black dogs.
They were created at the commission of the Hunt Lord, many hundreds
of years ago. Nasty brutes,” he wiped his hands on the dead hound
then stood up and turned to look at me. More feeling was coming
every second, bringing with it an awful twitchy need to move. I
started to shake and flinch, then got my right arm underneath me
and tried to push to a sitting position. It didn’t work. A couple
of minutes later I tried again. This time I managed to get up, sort
of. A few seconds of rest and I was able to stand up, although I
almost fell right back down. Wobbling a bit, I moved over to check
Charm, who was now sitting up, tongue lolling. She looked awful,
claw furrows wet and angry looking. But even as I watched, the
brown salve hardened into a crusty, scabrous coating that sealed
off each cut and tear. Charm looked tired, but her eyes were bright
and she licked at my hand when I checked her over. Dad’s vest had a
hydration unit in it, one with a drinking tube that I used to
squirt water into my little dog’s mouth. She lapped up what I could
get into her, then I took a sip myself and set about reclaiming my
weapons.
Greer was sitting on a rock, his huge
wolverine at his feet, watching us.
After reloading and holstering the Sig, I
swapped a new mag into the HK, checked to be sure a round was
chambered and safed the weapon.
“I only have one goal…get my daughter back.
I’ll use anyone and anything to achieve that, so if you want to
help, great. But I
will
kill you if you endanger her in
anyway. Got it?”
He nodded.
“I’m younger than my sister and cousin, so I
haven’t had as much contact with humans, just the two previous
Gatherings I’ve been on. What I knew came from records of older
Guardians and my teachers. They have always said that humans have a
weakness for their children, one that the Fae do not share. I am
beginning to believe that my people have grossly underestimated
both your technology and this bond you have with your
offspring.”
He waved at the bodies on the ground, which
were already melting and sparking. “Between you and your father,
more of us have died than probably any other single Gathering. Any
three
Gatherings! ”
“Listen, bub, I’m not even a soldier. My dad
was federal law enforcement, but there’s a big difference between
DEA and combat troops. Wait till the President orders special ops
troops to deploy backpack nukes to your world or with a big enough
gate, a division of armored tanks. And we’re just one country. This
planet has over six billion people on it. Word gets out that aliens
are stealing our kids and all hell will break loose.”
His eyes widened at the numbers and the dark
face paled noticeably.
“Ian, I do not know what a ‘back-pack nuke’
is, but the Queens control living weapons that would sweep through
your people in their entirety.”
“Hmm, yes…biological weapons…plague and
disease right?” I asked. “You’re right. I realize that your people
use biology as we use technology. But I also know that no biologic
agent is one hundred percent effective. Out of six billion some
would survive and eventually rebuild. But let’s talk about nuclear
weapons. You are familiar with the forces that hold things
together? The binding of the smallest portions of matter – atoms we
call them?”
He looked blank for a moment then nodded
suddenly. “Yes, of course.”
“Our nuclear weapons split those forces apart
and create a chain reaction that continues to split apart atoms
releasing all the power at once.”
He thought about that for a moment, then
frowned.
“That’s an abomination! It would render vast
areas toxic to life!”
“Yes it does. We used them to end our last
global war, but we have enough of them to basically sterilize our
world…or yours.”
He now looked horrified.
“I do not believe you.”
I pulled my phone from my pants pocket,
pulled up youtube and found a video of a nuclear explosion, then
passed the phone to him.
He watched the video, his face bleak.
“In truth, I do not believe we had any idea
how big your numbers had become or the change in your weapons.”
“ A lot changed in the last one hundred or so
years. Oh, I have no doubt that it would be a mutual slaughter, but
we have the numbers, and if our kids are involved, absolute
ruthless disregard for anything that threatens them,” I said,
before continuing.
“We’ve spent the last hundred years learning
to kill each other in ever greater numbers. We’ve had two global
wars and countless smaller ones. We spend more money on weapons
than food, and as you are beginning to find out, we have a trip
wire instinct to protect our children at all costs.”
A pair of military helicopters flew across
the horizon of the new day, moving from the west toward the center
of town, the thumping beat of their rotors pounding the cold air
around us. They were probably coming from Fort Drum in Watertown,
but who knew for sure. I watched Greer watch them, new realizations
dawning on his face.
“Look, I need to get moving.”
Greer nodded then led the way to the top of
the mountain, stepping over the mostly disintegrated bodies in the
path and a gray bundle of scrap fur that I recognized as the possum
carcass that I had found just days ago.
We came around the hilltop to face the
cracked granite summit and I got a shock when I saw it. The
mini-chasm was not visible, the opening of the crack filled with a
quicksilver surface that covered the split from side to side, top
to bottom.
“The Pathways between worlds usually form
surrounded by rock; very old, very stable rock.”
I didn’t say anything, speechless at the
sight of the mirror-like surface of the open topped cave.
“If you climbed on top of the rock and looked
down into the crevice it would look normal, except for a paper thin
line at the front. The plane of quicksilver you see has no depth in
this place, but has great depth between worlds,” Greer said.
“What do we do?”
“With a weaker portal we would need a source
of power, either an object or a person of Talent. I can usually get
through fairly weak gateways, but this one is so strong that we
require none of that. We simply step through,” he said, then he
looked at Coel and spoke in his own language. The great white
wolverine was sniffing at the bluish remains of the elf he had
killed, but looked up at Greer’s call. Then he shambled forward at
that deceptively fast, almost awkward looking gait that was
peculiar to wolverines. He sniffed at a cowering Charm, then simply
ran through the portal and was gone.
“I will go next. Once I’m through wait for a
handful of seconds then step through. You may need to carry your
dog.”
I nodded my understanding, checked over my
gear and was ready. He was watching me steadily and when he saw me
look up, he swung around and stepped forward. Two strides of his
long legs and he too was gone.
Charm looked at me and whined, her tail low,
her expression uncertain. I scooped her up, settled her in place
and walked straight at the mirror-like wall. I closed my eyes at
the last moment, the feeling of being about to run into a solid
surface too strong to fight.
Stepping off my left foot, squirming dog in
arms, submachine gun banging on leg from its single-point sling, I
felt a cobwebby sensation all over my face, hands and body. Then my
stomach threatened to leap out of my throat as I was
pulled
upside down, sideways and backwards. It was a bit, a very little
bit, like taking an a waterpark slide that spins your tube
backwards, up and over bumps, faster and faster till you flip ass
over ankles into a deep pool. A little like that. But it went on
and on. I opened my eyes, but immediately slammed them shut almost
sick to my stomach. Can’t quite describe the images I saw in that
brief glimpse. A nauseating, swirling, blot of light and dark,
moving in all directions at once. Then my right foot struck ground
and I was standing (well, wobbling) under a reddish sun that was
all wrong, on a plant covered hilltop in the middle of an endless
plain.
Greer caught my elbow, keeping my wobble from
becoming a complete collapse. I took a step, but my foot collided
with something soft. A woozy look down revealed an unconscious
Guardian, his hands bound with plastic cable ties like an
electrician would use. I looked at Greer, who was tucking the
plastic bag with the remaining cable ties into his shirt pocket. He
shrugged.
“I found them in one of your barns….pretty
brilliant really,” he said. He seemed to be spinning in place but
when I blinked a few times he slowed down.
“There is a considerable amount of
disorientation at first,” he said, noting my condition.
“Ya think?” I muttered, letting Charm down.
The little dog promptly heaved up what little was in her stomach,
then lay down and looked at me with accusing eyes.
“Yeah, I know how you feel!” I said, giving
her a squirt of water from the Camelback in my vest.
“Believe it or not, it helps to eat a
small
amount after transitioning the portals,” Greer said,
handing me a piece of dried meat from his belt pouch. He tossed a
couple of pieces to Charm, a handful to Coel and chewed one
himself. Not sure what kind of meat it was I gamely popped it in my
mouth and bit down. Not bad. A bit like beef but more gamey. I
swallowed and took a sip of water. “What is it?”
“Goblin,” he said, matter-of-factly.
My gorge rose all over again, but I clamped
down and after a moment my stomach settled.
“More?” he asked.
I quickly held up both hands. “I’m good,
thanks”
“Never thank one of my people,” he replied
immediately. “It implies a debt, to be collected at random.”
“Okay, , I forgot,” I answered.
He moved away from the Portal which was much
more defined on this planet, but still on a hilltop. The opening
was a more uniform arch, intricate carvings worked into the black
stone.
Turning back, Greer waved for me to follow,
so I heaved myself upright and staggered after him. The path he was
on moved down slightly and to the left, taking us out onto a rock
ledge that opened up the view considerably. A vast plain spread out
before us, and revealed that ours wasn’t the only hill in sight.
There were at least fifteen small hills arraigned in a roughly
semicircle, each with a basalt black mound of rock on top. Our hill
was almost at the end of the arc. One lone one was off to our
right, the last one on the semicircle. The arc faced the rising red
sun in what would be east back home. Looking across to the other
end of the line of gates I saw a heavy forest that met the plain
and ran to each horizon. A glance behind us in the opposite
direction showed a another similar line of vegetation, but this one
more tropical than the other.
Greer caught my eye and pointed down into the
center of the semicircle to something I couldn’t see. I moved up to
the edge of the ledge, the scene below suddenly coming into
view.
Arrayed below us was a huge gathering of Fae,
looking at first like a jumbled mess of elves, goblins and strange
looking steeds. A moment more revealed a certain order to the
crowd. The group of elves closest to the forest side were all in
black, white goblins mixing in and around them, small dark, flying
objects hovering over the white tent- like structures at the center
of them. Across from them was another gang of elves and goblins
that wore green, with mottled brown and green tents that looked
almost like military camouflage. A third group milled about on
bizarre horse-like creatures, their backs to our position. At first
appearing to be a jumbled riot of red and black, it became apparent
that what looked like confusion was just constant motion;
side-stepping steeds, milling hounds and goblins, all under the
supervision of elves, both mounted and on foot. A closer look at
the horses showed more reptilian features than mammal. Instead of
hooves, each foot ended in a three clawed lizard paw; the head long
and predatory; heavy jaws filled with sharp teeth. The ears were
oddly horse-like and a mane of fur ran down the muscular, scaled
neck.
The two Courts were faced off against each
other as well as the Hunt, all three warily watching the others.
Each of the other hilltops was occupied by at least two Guardians,
all of whom had their attention focused on the tense meeting
below.
The Hunt had obviously just come down from
our hill, several stragglers still moving down the trail, the rest
facing away from us.
Three of the lizard horses moved together at
the center of the Hunt horde. I looked through my Father’s
monocular to get a better look. This biggest beast was ridden by an
elf that looked almost like an ordinary human, if you discounted
the antlers erupting from his head. The hunter in me automatically
counted the points on his tines; thirteen. He was facing our
position, conversing with two other elves. Antler boy was the
obvious leader of the Hunt, the other two his seconds. Then I
noticed a small hand grasping his side and I focused on the saddle
behind him. His body blocked my sight until the big black beast
under him cantered sideways, exposing a black haired girl in sweats
– Ashley.
I recognized her expression, which was part
anger and part fear. I had seen it on her face and many more times
on her mother’s. I had long ago labeled it ‘resigned
determination’. Sarah had worn it when things were out of her
control yet she was focused on bringing them back on track. Ashley
had, in her short life, brought it to a whole other level, the
result of the Moore stubbornness coming through mixed with her
mother’s tenacity.