On Astral Tides: From Humble Freelancer To Astral Emperor

First – David Reckless, The Boundary, London, The United Kingdom

“Get the lead out, old man, or you’ll be buying the beers after this!” David cried, as he swept his heavy mace through another of the annoying piles of bones he hoped he would never see again. Bone splintered, and the flickering lights burning within the fleshless skull dimmed and slowly faded, as if the life was going out of it. Life, hah? What a sad joke. These corpses are already dead.

“That’s … what, twenty-seven for me?” he called out, well pleased, even as he kicked away another, bones shattering under his Caturix-given strength, which had been increasing sharply recently. Makes sense, we’ve all been slaving away like good little beavers. “Best make that twenty-eight!”

“Slow and steady wins the race, young David.” His rival in this contest of valour, Sir Arthur Dumbarton, was clad in shining silver armour, and wielded his great sword with practised ease, looking like a knight of old. Except for his white hair and beard, of course. Battle is for the young, though the old man would disagree.

A sweep of his blade smashed past the bronze shield the skeleton held, and the backswing decapitated it, skull bouncing off the oddly paved road they were standing on in the London Boundary, inside the Princess’ Territory. “I believe that is twenty for me. I am not so far behind.”

“Nah, I’ll leave you in the dust, old man!” David too was wearing armour, plainer, leaner and less ornamented, and the black metal suited him perfectly. It was a gift, he supposed, from Akio’s Territory. All of the Princess’ team had been gifted various treasures, even the teacher, and she wasn’t back to active duty yet, only keeping her hand in during training and hoping for another miracle, like little miss Asian had received.

I don’t hate getting stuff for free, but there’s definitely ulterior motives behind it. I’ve got my eye on him. Not that I blame him. And… I hate stingy bastards. Nothing worse than a miser, except a miser who won’t stand a round of beer!

“You know, you can tell them to be quiet.” Speaking of the Princess, Eleanor was in her usual green and bronze armour, though her sword had been replaced. She no longer carried her ordinary sword from the Tower, but now wielded a more suitably sized, slightly more slender and wickedly sharp sabre-style sword, made from some strange alloy of Dwarven metals and some crap dug out of Akio’s Territory. Even as David watched, the blade was glowing with the orange light of water element, and Eleanor could use it to form a cutting beam, extending her reach.

“I wouldn’t dream of it! I look up to Sir Arthur so much! David too!” Callie insisted. She was at the rear, accompanying their team’s little miss Asian, Aditi, who wasn’t wasting her power on these small fry skeletons. She was a cheerful young thing, and had become somewhat of the team mascot recently, with her freckled face and her bobbed brown hair.

“Oh, and why the pause before you said my name?” David growled, and Callie froze, before realising he was teasing her. She grinned, a touch shamefacedly, but the Princess just coughed loudly, even as she was swinging her sabre, water slicing through three skeletons at once, shattering bones effortlessly.

“Probably she is still rather intimidated by you, David.” Aditi spoke up politely as usual. Her gift had been a dress-like set of armour which resembled one of her traditional outfits, a sari, but it was woven of cloth seeded with metal fibres and offered excellent defence while being lightweight. It also could vibrate to maximise protection, apparently, something to do with feathers from some sort of monster bird…

“By me? I’m hurt!” David pretended to play the victim, even as he felled his twenty-ninth and then thirtieth skeleton. It was true they were all far stronger now, since the disaster when that little wretch and the redhead betrayed them, but… Shit, I didn’t want to think of that.

“I find that hard to believe.” Eleanor shook her head, her elegantly tied ponytail of brown hair bouncing as she did so. “No, your skin is as thick as a rhino’s, David. And you are hardly sensitive enough to be so easily upset.”

“Way to put a guy down.” He snorted, enjoying the banter, though there was definitely something missing for him. “Anyway, anyone else think this is bullshit? It’s annoying, but… compared to that hot bitch Mary Stuart…”

Callie shivered at the venom in his tone, and Eleanor pursed her lips, her blue eyes hard. “Language, David! Don’t be a bad influence for Callie and Aditi. But I get your point. It seems… almost intended to tie us down.”

“Yeah, just what I was saying. I wasn’t King of the Octagon for nothing, my battle instincts have only sharpened since Caturix chose me. This is harassment, nothing more.”

“It’s been a while since I heard that.” Eleanor’s lips quirked into a smile. “Perhaps I should ask Akio to come over and thrash you again, so you’ll stop bragging.”

David groaned. “Don’t remind me. I’d like to think I’d do better than one from nine, though it’s best out of eleven now, yeah? Or is it more? I haven’t seen the bastard for a while.”

Callie giggled. “You sure are good friends, David!” She waved her staff, which still was the relic she had received from the Tower of London, but it had been customised and improved by that guy’s so-called Mortal Engineers and now sported a number of shaped Etherites and crystals, amplifying Callie’s healing, and giving her slightly more attacking options. She’s not got the flexibility of our good teacher, but… she’s not so bad. I’d rather have a loyal tryer than a powerful traitor anyway, even if lacking a front-line shield bearer holds us back sometimes. Though not against these trash…

“Thirty-one. Thirty-two. Thirty-three, and the beers won’t be on me!” David cried, hurling his mace to destroy one skeleton, before he punched and kicked two more apart, not even needing the surging strength his Battle Hymn of Caturix provided to be able to crush them.

“Yes, they are birds of a feather.” Sir Arthur agreed, gallantly gesturing for Callie and Aditi to advance, always ready to respond to any threats. They were pushing outwards but had to split up. Raidre and his people were handling the other direction, and smaller, straggler forces were being mopped up by the armies they now commanded. Raidre hated the mostly mindless drones, copies of Goblins, the bloody big wolves and various other creatures that they had killed in this damned shadow of London, calling them ‘spiritless shells’, but the Princess preferred to use them, as they were useful enough when directed, and sending creatures with intelligence to die hurt her heart.

She’s a tender one, is our Princess. I’d say she’s not cut out for this war, but… she does well enough. She’s learned to be ruthless when she has to be, and pain no longer scares her. Though… David knew what did scare her. No, scare was the wrong way of phrasing it, it was more the anticipation made her worry, kept her lost in her own head.

In a way, I’m grateful to these stupid Church fucks. It’ll do the Princess good to work those muscles. Exercise focusses and clears the mind, helps you work through doubts. “Hey, I may have bragged about my past romantic conquests, which were many and always gorgeous…” he boasted, slamming his chest with one fist as he retrieved his mace, quickly wrecking the crushed skeletons, making sure they stayed dead… or more dead, anyway. “…but I’m not like Akio, or the wretched meatball.”

Eleanor and Aditi winced at his description of that worthless brat Donovan, and Callie paled. David cursed himself for speaking of him, but in his usual manner, just pressed on. There isn’t an obstacle, conversation or battle that can’t be bulldozed through with enough guts and strength! “I was dating one at a time! If you mean I’m a badass, then yeah, I get it. Anyway, I think our Princess has him on her mind more than me!”

“Nonsense!” she disavowed that, but nobody missed her faintly flushed cheeks, even under the strange light of Eleanor’s Territory, a Territory that was overrun by these crappy skeletons. They were hunting for Eleanor’s Buildings, and a few had been brought down already, which was annoying as hell. Nothing major though, these heaps of bones can’t even handle it when there’s too many Defensive Emplacements without overwhelming numbers. But then, where do they dig all these bastards up, and why won’t they simply collapse under the pressure here?

Seeing everyone looking at her, she shrugged. “If I am, I am merely worried that he will return to plunder the Tower once more. I owe him, but the terms of the agreement… were certainly rather too loose. His sister, his girlfriends and his Vassals. He seems to add to all three with annoying regularity. I’m still not sure I should cave in and allow his so-called new sisters any treasures, it seems a stretch.”

“It is not like he does not repay us.” Aditi tapped her armour, and then her eyes narrowed. Raising her stringless bow, she fed her power into it, and a near-invisible arrow formed. She then loosed it, and it shot off into the distance. Aditi’s eyesight had improved greatly, and she nodded in satisfaction a moment later. “I skewered the Judge leading the battle in the area several kilometres to our south. Oh, I was saying, do excuse me…” She apologised for her digression, which made David grin, as it was a very Aditi thing to do, little miss Asian was relentlessly polite.

“…yes, I cannot thank him enough for granting me the power I now wield, and his promise to bring back hope to Mrs Mary-Jane. Besides, he has showered us with gifts, even though some of his own allies are lacking. I think he shows sincerity…”

“Her Majesty, God protect her noble soul, thinks the same. Her health has never been better, and she delights in being able to tell the Royal physician to, and I quote… ‘bugger off’ …when he tries to restrict her from drinking brandy and eating rich foods.”

“Don’t I know it?” Eleanor grumbled, even as they were forced to chase another group of the skeletons. It was clearly just to prevent them sending aid to Japan through the Gate and Bermondsey Isle, though runners had been exchanged before the Gate was mysteriously blocked, so they were aware of the situation.

“Grandmother has been making me drink with her late into the evenings recently. Henry and Richard are there too.” She chuckled then. “It makes me laugh. I never have a hangover, unlike my brothers, or my father when he joins us. But the talk… it is excruciating.”

“Yeah well, can’t blame your bro henry. His fiancée may despise Akio, but your brother owes him his life, your life too. And he’s a Veteran. He’s seen some scraps in his time. He knows when times are tough, you want tough men… oh and women too.” David hastily added.

“Yes, he’s quite vocal in his opinions. As is her Majesty.” Sir Arthur agreed, Aditi fired another arrow, sniping one more of the actual living fanatics who were conducting the harassment. “Politically… it is a most excellent move. Though of course, the wishes of the people involved are important as well. But… noblesse oblige. The modern day might be different, but… the more things change, the more they stay the same.”

Eleanor clutched her sabre, and rushed to battle, hacking away at the skeletons as if they were the topic of conversation. As they crumbled, David smirked. “Well, our princess sure isn’t buying the beers tonight, is she? Come on old man, keep up!” He then addressed the Princess teasingly.

“Bothering you, is it?” David casually backhanded a skull, shattering it. Old rusty swords raked against his armour, but did nothing but draw a few sparks, and he headbutted another skeleton, leaving it headless. “If you really object, then…”

“It’s… complicated.” Eleanor shrugged. “And it would make me a hypocrite…”

“Nah, you worry too much. Plenty of people think the same way. Our tabloid press loves him, he gets more coverage than most celebrities. But at the end of the day, you know what’s up.” He winked then. “But then, he’s got good taste. After all, there’s my fangirl, little Natsumi!”

“I’m a huge fan of Shaeula!” Callie spoke up, smiling, eyes sparkling happily, despite the battle raging. But then, it’s not like she needs to do much. This is just a series of annoying chores, barely a workout.

“She’s so cute and powerful! And she’s funny too! Though…” she paused, embarrassed.

“I get it.” David smirked. “Yeah, she’d be the happiest by far, but… fuck me…”

“Language!” Eleanor responded automatically at his cursing, and it felt right, their camaraderie and bonds strong.

“…she’s crazy. Even little Callie here’s in her sights. It’s fun hearing Raidre talk about her old reputation, and it’s even more fun watching him shit himself talking about how her power in this Seelie Court is growing. Speaking of… you’ve got that Quest or some shit in the new year, right? Going after the scabbard of Excalibur, yeah? Seems fishy, but then all this is as crazy as our little bar-bar my way firecracker is.”

“Yes, but first… New Year’s Honours.” Eleanor pointed, and bullets of water destroyed several skeletons. She had improved her technique dramatically, and had actually managed to tame another element, that of earth, which was apparently rather dangerous. But then, the Princess can just break herself and heal, over and over, until her body just goes ‘fuck it’ and gives in, making it work. That’s his knowledge again though. She may be irritated, but facts are facts.

“Think everything will be worked out by then? It’s not just political, there’s all the mystical shit, prophecies and some such too, right?” David asked, genuinely curious. “I totally think that’s a load of shit, we make our own decisions, forge our own fates, but… it isn’t up to me, is it?”

“No, it most certainly isn’t.” the Princess grumbled huffily. Though if I’m not mistaken, you’re more embarrassed than angry or upset. It’s kind of cute. You should smile more. Hah, something to look forward to. Guys like feisty and happy women. For a moment a flash of red and blue was in his mind, and he pushed that aside, feeling sad, angry and frustrated all at once. Hating that, he decided to continue his teasing to focus his mind.

“In fact, can we change the subject? We can’t be careless, now can we?” Eleanor suggested.

“All right, all right!” David smirked, having had his fun. “Callie, my neck’s a bit stiff, crank out your healing and fix me up, would you?”

“I’m sorry, I need to save it for real emergencies.” She shook her head apologetically. “I know the situation here seems in hand, but we can’t be… oh.” She blushed red as a tomato, realising David was just teasing her.

“You fall for it every time.” David sniggered. “I can see I’m going to have to keep an eye on you, or you’ll get sweettalked and swindled by some guy, or dragged into her schemes. Don’t worry, uncle David’s got your back, girl!”

“I won’t!” Callie protested, still scarlet, and there was laughter, but David was still a little troubled. Compared to the news worldwide, we’re barely under any pressure. It’s just busywork, keeping us pinned. It pisses me off they are taking us lightly, but then… we did need saving last time, can’t deny it. The fact the Ring Gate doesn’t work anymore though…

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he shrugged, before charging at another mob of worthless skeletons, their bones dirty and cracked, their weapons little more than wooden clubs, bronze swords and stone axes. I guess they’ll just have to handle it. Not that I doubt them. Even with Akio abroad still, they sure aren’t pushovers, are they?

***

Second – Ileana ??????, somewhere in Romania…

“Vile abomination, affront to the Lord, I shall see you burn, if it the last thing I do!” the Judge who had named himself Alexandru Ardelean roared out, his voice seething with such ferocious hatred that it caused Ileana to flinch, though she quickly recovered, having been doused in the fury of his rage a great number of times since the battle had started.

Beneath her foot lay a man, also clad in white, his armour broken, blood staining the rough wooden floor beneath him, a red pool growing. The smell… it disgusted her, and she swallowed, her deep green, almost sparking eyes, watering from the smoke that was filling the small home of the kind and gentle woman that had offered her tuică and soup without any request for repayment, even given her clothing, though again, she was wearing rags unfit for her beauty. She had taken my ring, but… I know she only did it to set my mind at ease. Charity… sometimes it is a frightening prison.

Her blue trousers, so reminiscent of what working serfs would wear, were now torn and shredded, her pale, alabaster flesh peeking out, though the perfection was ruined by a number of livid burns across her skin, as well as deep cuts, which had bled thin trickles of tar-like black blood. Her shirt too was crimson and black, red with their blood, as three other of the hated hounds of the so-called Church lay strewn around the jumbled, wrecked room, and black with her own. Her teeth itched, her long, pointed canines burning almost as hot as the fires had when they searched her flesh.

She shivered and coughed, lungs filling with smoke, even as the Judge screamed and ranted. He was hurt too, as she was, the battle having been fierce. His mace had broken many of her ribs and punctured one lung, she suspected, which was hardly helping her breathing. In return, she had skewered him through his torso with her hand, his shield shattering as she struck through it, but then he had grinned, and spoke in an old language, one of the many Ileana remembered from her tutors in her youth, before… before the slumber.

Latin, yes. The translation… with the context of what happened, it is simple to understand… He had cried “The blades and fists of the faithless may spill the blood of the faithful, but the sin shall be returned fourfold to the sinner!” and her own body had near exploded, turgid blood scattering. Even now… She glanced down to where her shirt was torn and missing, a great gouge the size of a plate carved out of her abdomen, her guts pierced, the contents leaking, burning her stinging skin. It was only through sheer willpower and her slow, sluggish blood flow that she remained standing, though it was an effort not to tilt, lopsided.

It was clear she was no match for the hateful man, and while he was wounded badly too, her wounds were grave, and she had accumulated further injuries defeating his followers. In the end, she had no choice but to draw on what little power resided within her, and she met his hateful gaze with her own. He flinched and tried to look away, but she had poured her aetheric strength into her eyes, and for a moment he was captivated, her thrall. It will not last long, and he is too strong-willed, contains far too much aether, for me to dominate.

Her eyes had burned and wept black tears as she gave him the order to strike his own legs, and he had done so, his mace cracking bone. He collapsed, her hold on him broken, but orders that went against the self, or were suicidal, or even any order given when one understood and despised her… they were frequently resisted and short-lived. His legs were injured, yes, but he would recover quickly.

Ileana had considered trying to kill him as she had his followers, but she feared his power of retribution, and was already so weak, so… exhausted. And that had led her to the sorry state of the present, where she was being cursed by the temporarily crippled Judge, while she quaked and trembled in agony, and the quiet, tidy little home burned, fires sparked by the conflicts.

And worse… shutting out his abuse, she turned to the small, battered figure of the woman who had taken her in, even as two more of the men who despised her rushed in, hearing the cries of their leader.

So tired, so… very tired. I hate this. Why… why am I the last? What… what did I do to deserve this? Can I be faulted for my very birth? Anger boiled in her, and hatred, and resentment, but most of all, a deep, bone-aching weariness and sadness, which ached almost as much as the gaping wound in her side, and the many lacerations and burns on her flesh.

“No… don’t… stop, please…” Valeska, the kind old woman, was lying against one wall, almost as pale as Ileana, her only colour the vivid red soaking her twisted legs, and black ash smeared across her cheeks. One of the so-called Godly men had pierced her casually with a sword, so sure that she was wicked, for having sheltered her.

It is the hypocrisy of it all I despite. It was the same back then. But… they are powerful, and superior in their own righteousness. What was it mother said? Oh yes, do not fear a strong man, a brave man or a skilled man, no, fear a man who is so convinced he is right that death holds no fear for him, neither his, nor yours.

It was that which had caused Ileana to fly into a rage, and she had decapitated the monster with a swing of her thin arm, though then they had cried out that she was the beast.

Blood, the smell making her sick, rose in her throat, clogged her nostrils, and Ileana roared, pouring out the truth inside her, the power only her family had possessed. Blood responded, and the liquid puddles on the floor erupted, dozens of thin needle-like lines of blood piercing the throats and eyes of the two newcomers, slaying them instantly. The effort made her insides burn, and she felt light-headed for more than the loss of her turgid blood, but what was worse were the cries of Valeska.

Staggering, fighting to keep her maimed body upright, she knelt beside the poor woman. She looked back, her blue eyes now so pale as to be almost grey, as if the colour was draining with her life, matching her strands of white hair.

“I… am sorry.” Ileana apologised. “Your gifts, they… they are ruined.”

“You shouldn’t… kill… child.” Valeska coughed. “But… I suppose… you shouldn’t have to die either. You… you are a Strigoi in truth. It seems these old eyes… are keen, and my wits… haven’t faded…” She coughed again, and there was blood in it, staining her pale chin.

“No.” Ileana denied it. “I am Ileana. I am not a monster! I am not!”

“It seems… that even if you are… you are a tender one.” Valeska raised a hand, and wiped a tear from her cheek, touching it lightly for a moment. Her arm then fell, and Ileana reached for it, catching her hand, only to feel her ring in her palm.

“There. I felt bad… taking a young woman’s keepsake for a little food, drink, water and old clothes, even a ride… into the city… I was going to… return it.” Her words were labouring, and there were still foes outside, and her strength was hardly equal to the task. Worse, the cursed Judge could recover at any moment, and she had no other means of facing him.

“Do not speak.” Ileana shook her head. “Do… do you want to live?”

“Everyone… wants to live.” Valeska managed. “But… oh, the myths. No, I have… no wish to be a Strigoi, to be the living dead…”

Not everyone. Not everyone wishes to continue. But… “That is… a falsehood, a lie!” Ileana was incensed. “Tales spread to justify the hunts, the purges, the… dark times. We are alive! Our existence is simply… slow, as beat our hearts!”

“I see. I apologise, young… Ileana. But…” She laboured out the words, and with a grimace, Ileana shook her head, long hair that was now dyed a deeper red with blood brushing the cold face of her benefactor.

“…please! I cannot bear the weight on my conscience. Besides… I do not know this world, these hair dryers and showers… I shall surely be lost, exploited. I will never lose my pride, I would rather die than become what you mistook me for, but…”

A slow chuckle leaked from Valeska’s throat, and she nodded, so slowly, ever so slowly. “Yes, young one. I… promised to take you to town. I am… a woman of… my word. Always have been. And I am too… old… to change now…” Her words were almost inaudible at the end, even for Ileana’s excellent hearing. They are coming. Cautious not to thin their blockade so as I can exploit a gap, and wary of me, since I slew the last to enter… I have minutes, no more.

Ileana had never done it. Her younger sister had, and her older brothers, of course. Her mother, father, uncles and aunts too, most of them at least. But Ileana had been studious, quiet, and never had cause to need or desire a blood child. Many came seeking their family, the ill, the old, the desperate, the greedy, and few were chosen. It was both blessing and curse, just as was Ileana’s existence, but… glaring, green eyes burning with hatred now seeming to shimmer to blue, she resolved she would pay him back, him and all who were like him. But now… escape…

Her heart beat, a dull thump in her chest, and with a delicate finger, she pierced her own chest, the long nail plunging deep. It is… unpleasant. I can see why brother says it is erotic. Eldest Brother… he had so many blood children, his twelve brides. Where are they now? I only remember… no, I cannot remember! I will not!

Thinking of the hateful words of Alexandru, who claimed to have put the others to the flames, she felt her own burns anew. Desperately, she withdrew the drop of blood from her heart, and her vitality poured into it. It was difficult, her blood was sluggish, more so from her long sleep, and had barely begun to move after her desperate flight after she was awoken, her endless sanctuary suddenly burning her flesh, searing her awake from her millennia or more of slumber. And I am far from well.

The droplet of black blood shimmered, becoming a clear droplet of red, orange, blue and violet hues. She pressed her finger to the near unresponsive mouth of Valeska. For a moment there was no response, and then weakly she sucked, the droplet trickling into her. The pain from her wounds intensified, her essence, her vitality, the very concept of her existence dimmed, her heart beating again, but at that moment, Valeska groaned.

“You vile spirit, blasphemy against the Throne!” the Judge roared, trying to drag himself on his cracked legs, though with the wound she had given him as well, he was barely able to move. “You are a plague, a disease! A virus! True evil spreads!”

Virus? Ileana tilted her head, not understanding, as Valeska groaned again, and stood, body trembling.

“I… I can move. It still hurts though. Damnably so…” She could speak properly again, though her pallor was still grave. The flow of blood from her wound had tapered off to a trickle, and as she staggered like a drunk, she frowned. “I feel… odd. Why didn’t I heal?”

“If you could, why have I not?” Ileana huffed, before hissing. “You said you could drive us to the city, despite having no horses…”

Valeska nodded, staggering over to a side table. It had been knocked over, and the wood was smouldering, as the fires around the house were spreading. “Oh, my old bones ache fiercely, and this damnable wound… there!” she cried out triumphantly, picking up an oddly shaped metal key. Ileana was confused, but Valeska pointed to the door. “Outside.”

“Not that way.” She turned, bracing herself, and smashed through one wooden wall, the flames having made it weak. The impact was agonising, and the flames scorched her, but they were out. A woman with a crazed expression raised something to stop her, but blood surged, and she fell, pierced by crimson daggers.

“Fortunately, the sun… it still has not shown its face.” Ileana managed, nearly blacking out with fatigue, her eyes now a deep violet.

“Why, do we burn away in the light, like a demon?” Valeska asked. “…if so, it is not much of a life…” Even as she spoke, she pulled Ileana towards an odd, square-looking metal carriage, but yes, there were no horses.

“My old girl…” Valeska slapped the front, making a loud noise. It mattered little, as two more enemies were closing in, and with the last of her strength Ileana threw more bloody blades. It only wounded one, but they were wary, which bought them a moment.

“No, no…” The door to the carriage was wrenched open, and Valeska threw her inside, making her screech. She then clambered over her, pulling shut the door and sitting beside her, next to some strange, odd wheel.

“…the sun, it is unpleasant, but… we do not die. We are not the dead!” she insisted again, only to panic as a loud roaring noise shook her fading consciousness. The carriage began to move, and it ran right at one of her pursuers, who leapt aside in panic. The bumpy ride was making Ileana sick, as it bounced over the rough terrain, but she noted it would already outrun her father’s fastest carriage, pulled by his prized black horses.

“I see. That’s a relief. I like the night as much as any old woman, but…” Valeska grimaced. “…I’m not sure I could get us to shelter before the sun comes up, or before… I pass out.” She removed one hand from the wheel as her feet worked on some pedals, touching her seeping wound. “I haven’t healed, I just… slowed, yes?”

Seeing her repeat her earlier protestations, Ileana nodded weakly. “Yes. The vitality will heal you in time, but… we also suffer slowly, and can endure.” She suddenly panicked. “That cursed man will follow us soon, we must… get away…”

“Sure. The thing is… it’ll be hard to find us.” She spun the wheel, and the carriage tilted, taking a tight bend around a hill, the house and the rising plume of smoke disappearing from view. “Even with their own cars, my girl here is mountain born. Near as old as I, but still a tryer. Besides, I know these mountains and hills like the back of my hand.” Valeska’s smile was wicked. “And we’ll shake them off. When we do, we can cover some distance.”

Ileana nodded, not entirely understanding. Weakly, she reached out, and dropped the ring she held. It bounced, and Valeska looked down. “Careful, you’ll lose it under the seat.”

“No. It is yours. Now… you are my blood child. I would give you a token.”

“Me, your child? How foolish.” Valeska grimaced. “I’ll accept the sentiment though. After all, my house and all my things are burning, all but my girl here.” She slapped the wheel.

Ileana nodded, troubled, clutching at her gaping wound as she huddled into an exhausted ball of anger, fear and confusion. “How will we survive?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t insured, and even if I was, I doubt it covers attacks by religious fanatics…” she chuckled. “I have some small savings. First… we need to hide and heal. Or do you need a hospital? I’m amazed you are still alive.”

“No, I can recover my vitality.” Ileana promised.

“In that case, we hide, we heal… then… you tell your aunt Valeska everything, all right? No lies or omissions this time.”

Aunt? Does being my blood child offend her so? As for speaking of everything… the thought filled Ileana with regrets, but she nodded slowly. Yes, I must speak of much, and ask much as well. The faint rays of the sun starting to creep up over the horizon reminded her she knew so little, and was adrift, alone, apart from her blood child beside her, and thoroughly, utterly out of her time…