Chapter 17: Master Cyrus

By the time Beth stepped through the portal to the secret volcano, the others had already arrived. She walked out of a small, thatched home into what looked like a village. Tink had dragged a table into the largest opening separating the houses and was having a very animated debate with Eulalie and Reggie. They were surrounded by dozens of rats who watched the conversation with twitching ears.

Unsure if she should interrupt, Beth noticed a beautiful Hawaiian woman in a white dress watching from outside the ring of rats. Recognizing the divine aura right away, Beth skirted the group and walked over to the woman. When she arrived, she gave a polite bow.

“My name is Beth,” she said, then looked up at the goddess. “Are you Pele?”

The goddess didn’t move, but her eyes shifted away from the discussion to take Beth in. “I expected you sooner.”

Beth nodded. “I was supposed to be here some time ago, but had to speak with the centaurs before coming here. I apologize for my delay.”

“The goblin referred to me as Hot Rock Island Coochie when she got here.” Pele sniffed in indignation. “Then informed me that the families on my island are in danger from bony fucks. So I’m still not entirely sure what is happening.”

Chagrined, Beth gave a quick explanation to Pele of what had transpired. At numerous points, the ground rumbled ominously beneath them, but Pele didn’t otherwise react. When she finished talking, the goddess turned away and stared up toward the ridgeline of the mountains.

Beth gave Pele a couple of minutes to digest the information, then cleared her throat and stepped forward. “When I’m done here, I’m supposed to drop in on what’s left of Paradise and speak to the merfolk. We need to know sooner rather than later if they will help the Order and us hold back Francois’ army.”

“Hmph. I sincerely doubt they will. This is a land walker issue, after all.”

“Mike thought they might listen to you.”

The goddess shook her head. “I doubt it. I am the one who boiled their people alive.”

“And that’s exactly why you should.” Beth moved toward Pele and put her hand on the goddess’ shoulder. Pele’s skin was hot enough that Beth pulled her hand away. “They deserve to know why you did it and maybe what’s at stake.”

“I think that you and the Caretaker should prepare for further disappointment.” Pele turned, her hair billowing away from her as if carried on the breeze. “But I will do whatever it takes to save my people, even if it means wasting a few moments on the merfolk.”

“Mike also wanted me to ask why the night marchers can’t come out during the day. And please don’t say, ‘because they’re called night marchers.’”

Pele frowned. “Why would I say that?”

Beth shrugged. “Force of habit. I live with a man who acts like he can get into heaven by telling dad jokes and a tree who only encourages his behavior.”

“I ... don’t know quite how to respond to that.” Pele smirked and sat on a nearby rock. “How much do you know about spirits?”

“Less than I should. I sort of live with the Grim Reaper and have a dullahan as one of my boy-toys. It does come up in conversation sometimes.” Beth leaned against a nearby tree. “I know that a good chunk of a spirit’s behavior can depend on what they believed while alive.”

Pele nodded. “For the Hawaiian people, they are tied to the land both physically and spiritually. The night marchers are a manifestation of this bond, ancestral warriors that have sworn to protect their chieftains and this land from those who would harm it.”

“Do they remain because they were buried here or is it bigger than that?”

“In many cultures, a spirit is attached to their resting place, or perhaps an object that holds great meaning. For the ancient warriors of Hawaii, this place wasn’t just somewhere to live. It was their forever home, a place that meant everything to all those who would come after. These warriors fought, bled, and died on this land, their bones interred in cliffs and secret caves that their mana could return to the soil and give back what they had taken from the island. As long as the spirit of Hawaii itself lives on, then so shall the night marchers.”

“I understand all this. But that doesn’t tell me why they only come out at night. We need their help during the day.”

Tink shouted something particularly obscene, and both Beth and Pele leaned over to see who or what she was shouting at. The goblin was busy climbing one of Eulalie’s legs, while the Arachne tried to shake her off. Quetzalli had joined them and was trying desperately to pull them apart.

“Does the Caretaker really think she can handle this?” Pele scowled at the scene.

“He trusts Tink implicitly. So do I.” Beth cleared her throat to regain Pele’s attention. “The night marchers. How can we get them to manifest during the day?”

Pele sighed and leaned back against the rock and tucked a flower in her hair. “The spirits of the dead are beings of energy, in a way. They require energy to manifest in a physical sense, and this usually comes from the presence of living beings. All day long, the spirits will slumber and gather ambient lifeforce on their own. But it’s a delicate balance. Too little and they don’t appear. Too much? They can burst.” She looked up into the sky and studied a cloud that had rolled over the lip of the volcano. “The sun can also provide this energy, but how do you contain it in a non-existent vessel? It overwhelms them immediately unless they find a way to hold tremendous focus. They were able to manifest shortly before sundown when Francois tried to climb the mountain, but only because they had raw anger coupled with the shade of the trees to insulate them from the direct effects of the sun.”

“So the spirits need an energy source, but the sun is too strong?”

The goddess nodded. “That’s extremely reductive, but yes. Should you wish to summon the night marchers, you would need to replicate both the insulating effects of night time while providing them a sufficient energy source to manifest.”

“FUCK!” Tink fell off Eulalie just as the Arachne leapt straight into a tree. Quetzalli stood between them, lightning crackling between her fingers. “STUPID FUCKING SPARK DRAGON, EAT TINK’S ASS!” The goblin jumped to her feet and tried to bite Quetzalli’s hand, but the dragon shocked her again.

Beth stared at the three women, then grinned. “Done,” she said, then turned to face the goddess.

“Done? You’ve figured out how to summon the marchers during the day?”

“Yep. But that hinges on your ability to cause an eruption.”

Pele rolled her eyes. “The only reason I don’t do it more often is that I like to treat each one as if it were a work of art. When you rush them, it can be rather boring.”

“Good. Then let’s go to Paradise and speak with the Order and the merfolk.” Beth took Pele by the hand and pulled her to her feet. The goddess frowned, then looked at Beth’s hand.

“You’re a brave one, aren’t you?”

“Only because I don’t have the time to be scared.” Beth was already moving toward the hut with a portal to the airBNB by Paradise. “Now, c’mon. Let’s go back to Paradise and figure out what we can do to save your people.”

Sarah opened new eyes to see her mother standing nearby with her arms crossed. Elizabeth had her head tilted to one side as she inspected Sarah’s new body.

“Well?” It was a question her mother had asked dozens, if not over a hundred times. Every body was a new experience, due largely in part to what made a person unique in the first place. When Sarah first moved in, there could be mental limitations to bypass, poor mana channels which meant burning new ones, and even something as basic as a gluten allergy. Sometimes there was quite a bit of pain accompanying possession, which was always a warning sign that the body wouldn’t last long. Other times, the new meat suit felt like a comfortable sweater, or even a well worn jacket.

Bodies rarely lasted more than a few days, especially when Sarah was forced to rely on magic. Over at the conference table, Darius’ corpse had been arranged to look as if he was taking a nap while still wearing his sunglasses. Upon closer inspection, anyone could see that the man’s eyes had burst, a result of the power required to subvert an entire village full of angry centaurs.

But this body was different. Many times in the past Sarah had worn corpses of the Order, marveling at their strength and durability. Not only was this body perfectly suited to the kind of magic Sarah wanted to wield, but Laurel herself had been extremely easy to dispose of. Sometimes it was all Sarah could do just to suppress somebody’s mind, but Laurel was easy. The woman had been broken on a psychological level, and it had been no challenge for Sarah to scoop away what was left until the mage had simply given up and died. As a result, the intrusion had been almost effortless.

Sarah raised her new hand and curled the fingers in, casually summoning heat into her fingertips. With a snap of her fingers, fire sparked to life and hovered above the palm of her hand. Pain immediately rushed up her arm and she allowed the spell to fizzle.

“It feels good.” This wasn’t a body that felt like a coat, or a sweater. This was a body that felt like home. Sarah grinned at her mother, then slid her fingers beneath the strap of her necklace.

“Are you sure?” Elizabeth asked. “If you pull that off and you’re wrong, it’ll cut your time in that body in half.”

“And?” Sarah put her hands on the cord and lifted, pulling the necklace up and over her head. Unlike other times when she had tried this, there was no blacking out or sudden dissociation. This time, her soul was firmly entrenched in her new, permanent host. Smiling, she handed the necklace to her mother. “Success.”

Elizabeth smiled, then let out a laugh. “I never thought I’d see the day,” she said.

“Tell me about it.” Sarah moved to the nearest reflective surface and studied herself in the mirror. Not only was the body a good fit, but Laurel had been moderately attractive. Sarah had wondered more than once if she was destined to end up in an ugly body or even as a man. Still, those options were far better than the alternative of burning in Hell for all eternity as some demon’s slave. She summoned another handful of flames and let out a sadistic giggle.

“Stop that.” Elizabeth swatted at Sarah’s hand. “Just because your soul wasn’t rejected doesn’t mean you should force your magic through it so readily.”

“You’re right.” Sarah dismissed the flames again and saw that her fingertips were already charred. Frowning, she pinched them together and frowned at the sharp pain. “I can’t just go body hopping again, now can I?”

“Not for many, many years.” Elizabeth put the necklace around her own neck. The blue gemstone had faded to black and now looked like obsidian. “The tear of the phoenix was always meant to be an emergency measure specifically because of how long it takes to recharge. You’ll need to take much better care of this body than you did your own.”

“Fuck you.” Sarah undid a couple of buttons on the collar of her shirt and pulled her hair out of its ponytail. “Dying is probably the best thing that’s ever happened to me. If not for what happened in that greenhouse, there’s a good chance I would have been killed in the blast that now has our dear leader reconstituting himself one molecule at a time across time and space.”

“Don’t talk about him like that.” Elizabeth’s features had paled significantly.

“Oh, he’s too busy screaming about his succubus to give a shit, even if he could hear me.” Sarah tugged her shirt open and looked inside. “This girl had great taste in underwear.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and turned away from her daughter. “We won’t have long before someone suspects a problem with Darius,” she said.

“Let’s just tell them that the centaurs poisoned him or something. He gave his life to complete the mission or some bullshit. Hoorah.”

“You’re very belligerent tonight.”

“Hell, yes, I am.” Sarah swayed her hips from side to side as she did a small dance. “I’m fucking alive again! No more rotting from the inside, no more body hopping, no more doing the Curator’s—”

“Watch it.” Elizabeth’s tone was like steel.

“Infiltration missions,” Sarah finished. “I’ve had so many people’s memories in my head that I thought I was going to go crazy as a result.”

“While that is probably true, I would like to remind you that our benefactor expects a certain level of respect from those he has supported. When we return, you know he will want to run some tests.” Elizabeth frowned at the floor and stomped on a rather large wolf spider.

Sarah nodded. The Curator had made several hypotheses about why she had been unable to find a suitable body, and the only reason she wasn’t afraid he would dissect her to learn more was because he had given his word not to do so. The Curator was one scary bastard, but the man kept his promises.

There was a knock on the door. Both Sarah and Elizabeth looked at each other and then Darius. Sarah cast a minor illusion which made it look like the man was breathing while Elizabeth walked to the door to answer it.

Dirk stood in the doorway, his features serious. “We have a situation,” he said, looking at Darius. Sarah gave the corpse a nudge with her magic, causing Darius’ head to tip like he was listening.

“What is it?” asked Elizabeth.

“Somebody just knocked on the main door.” Darius looked at Elizabeth. “We checked the cameras but didn’t see anything.”

“Shit.” Elizabeth looked at Sarah. “Most likely a spirit. It could be the Grim Reaper.”

Sarah bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. During this whole operation, their primary fear had been allowing Death to spot her. The Reaper’s abilities were severely limited in regards to living beings, but when it came to souls that refuse to depart, he could easily rip Sarah out of whatever body she inhabited, including this one.

“What do you want us to do?” he asked.

“Have your men form up.” Elizabeth looked over at the corpse. By now, her shadow had stretched across the floor, allowing her to take control of it. Darius nodded his approval. “Prepare for an assault. Authorize lethal force by any and all means. When you get a moment, have somebody check on the prisoners and then call up whoever is watching them. They’re just kids, a pair of guards will suffice. Sister Laurel, we will require Order personnel to assist with our defenses. Once we repel the attackers, we need to prep for evacuation. They were never supposed to find us this quickly.”

“Of course.” Sarah gave a little bow and walked out of the office. In the control room, men watching screens were already mobilizing, many of them heading into the hangar to bolster field teams. Atop a pair of guard towers, the M134 miniguns that had been installed were already being prepped.

“Do we have audio?” she asked, moving closer to the screen that displayed the entrance to the secret base. The man closest to the screen didn’t respond, but pressed a button that caused the speakers to burst to life.

“I say, we do know you’re in there. It would save us quite a bit of effort if you would just crack the door a bit and return those children.” A dark shape briefly appeared as Death walked to a different part of the door. “If we do have to come in there, you certainly won’t like the results.” The dark shadow disappeared again, and the faint knocking of bone on steel could be heard.

“Yep. Reaper.” Dirk was standing behind Sarah now and checking his sidearm. “The psychopomp is harmless, but I’m guessing if he knows we’re here, the others are coming.”

The monitor went black. The man running the monitors clicked through to a couple of other cameras, but they had gone dark as well. He turned in his chair to look at Dirk.

“Feeds are down.” He looked at the console and smashed a spider that was near his hand. “Damned bugs.”

“We expect contact any moment people.” Dirk moved toward the door and paused to look back at Sarah. “Get your group up here. Things are about to get hot.”

Sarah smirked and followed him out of the control room. Even though the Radleys had found their location, there had always been a contingency plan. Once she secured Mike’s children, she and the Order personnel would escort them out through a secret exit tunnel that they could easily collapse behind them. She had been here decades ago when the place was built, after all, and knew where everything was. By this time tomorrow, she could hand the children over to the Curator and be done with this affair.

In the hangar bay, the temperature had dropped substantially. The Sons of Sin were glancing at each other with knowing looks as their breath turned to vapor. This had to be the work of the kitsune, Yuki. A couple of men back behind the barricades were already pulling out propane heaters and turning them on.

Mumbling to herself, Sarah went to the elevator and pressed the down button. The hangar door creaked behind her, and she turned to observe as frost began forming on the inside of the door, curling in on itself and forming into the shape of a large lotus flower.

“Cute.” Knowing it wouldn’t change anything, Sarah tapped the down button impatiently until the elevator door slid open. When she stepped inside, she turned around to get one last look at the Sons of Sin. She doubted that any of them would survive. The doors slid shut. As the car descended, Sarah noticed a tiny spider by the Open-Door button. Using her thumb, she smashed it.

Cyrus winced as he got to the top of the landing and turned to look up. They were only three floors down from the hangar now, and he still didn’t have much of a plan. Sighing, he looked at his charges. Callisto had already taken the slap bracelet off. He and his sister had been conserving charges on it this whole time, which was a fortuitous stroke of luck. With the bracelet on, Callisto could go up the stairs without any difficulty, but it was still physically demanding. His cheeks were red from the steady climb.

Grace had zero issues with the stairs and wasn’t winded at all. She was carefully holding her skirt so that it didn’t drape over her body as she crawled along the underside of the stairs. Scuttling just ahead of Cyrus on the ceiling, she turned to look at him.

“Up?” she asked.

“Yes, up.” Cyrus coughed into his hand, then looked at Callisto. “She sure is chatty all of a sudden.”

“She catches on quick once she learns something. You should have seen the mess she made when she figured out how to undo all the child locks on the cupboard. There was peanut butter and jelly everywhere, even on the ceiling.” Callisto held the slap bracelet just above his wrist. “Do you want me to go up without you?”

“No.” The mage sighed. The centaur had been sprinting up the stairs each time he put on the bracelet to minimize its usage. “Just give me a second to catch my breath and then you can follow me.”

“Up?”

“Soon.” Cyrus gazed up the stairwell and scowled. His current plan was to bring the children into the hangar and hope nobody spotted them. He had already given the tracking bracelet to Callisto with the instructions ‘run like hell’ once he figured out a way to get the door open. That would be the children’s only task as he did his best to hold everyone off.

Could he do it? He wasn’t sure. But he had to try, despite the likely outcome.

“Up?”

“Yes, up.” Cyrus groaned inwardly and resumed marching up the stairs. Once he had crested the next landing, Callisto put the slap bracelet on and dashed up. Grace stayed where she was and waited for them to climb just above her position, at which time she crawled up and over the railing. The Arachne grinned at both of them, then made a hissing sound that Cyrus interpreted as a happy sound. It made his skin crawl.

The trio made it to the top of the stairwell. Cyrus glanced over at one of the ventilation shafts and cursed under his breath that it was no bigger than a few inches across. Young Arachne were really only limited by what their head could fit through, and he’d prefer sending her to safety as she was most likely to be shot on sight out of fear.

He placed his ear against the door and listened.

“Up?” asked Grace. Her brother promptly clamped his hand over her mouth, which she bit. When Cyrus shushed her with a finger over his lips, she stopped biting her brother to do the same thing in Callisto’s direction. Cyrus snorted, doing his best to hold back a laugh.

Waving the children back, he stepped into the hangar bay to assess the situation and was surprised to see that the area was largely deserted. Instead, the men of the SoS were hunkering down behind barricades, their weapons drawn and pointed at the hangar door. Stunned, Cyrus stared at the lotus pattern made of ice that formed on the inside of the hangar door. Someone was trying to get in, which meant that the Radleys had successfully found the place.

But how? Shaking his head, Cyrus turned back toward the hangar door. It really didn’t matter how. For the first time tonight, he felt like everything was going to be okay.

Opening the door, he had Callisto and Grace come out and stick to the shadows. With everyone’s attention on the hangar door, nobody was even looking in their direction. There were plenty of supply crates and vehicles to hide behind, so the three of them leap-frogged their way along the wall whenever nobody was looking.

Crouching down by an SUV, Cyrus peered around the corner to see the witch Elizabeth emerge from the control room along with Dirk. Her fingertips were glowing an ominous shade of crimson that made him nauseous to look upon, and the numerous shadows that stretched away from her moved independently of her actions.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

“Fuck,” Grace whispered back. Cyrus stared at the little Arachne in horror.

“Your dad is gonna kill me,” he muttered.

Grace nodded solemnly in response.

“Let’s prepare a proper greeting,” shouted Elizabeth as she raised her palms toward the corners of the ceiling. Crimson runes that Cyrus hadn’t seen before ignited, the hangar now lit much like a dark room. The men of the SoS looked on nervously as their own shadows stretched away from them and took on a life of their own. The shadow soldiers rose from the ground and spread themselves out, taking on defensive positions of their own.

Cyrus just shook his head. Elizabeth was strong, of that there was never a doubt. But the magic she utilized suggested that she had contracted with a very powerful demon, not something that could be summoned up quite so easily. Witches like her often did this, approaching powerful entities and bartering away their souls for power. He suspected she had several far more insidious tricks up her sleeve.

A frozen mist forced its way through the gaps of the door, and the lights flickered and popped. In the ominous glow of the hangar, Cyrus guided Grace beneath the SUV and moved Callisto behind some thick crates and barrels full of water. He didn’t know how much protection they would provide in the fight to come, but it was better than nothing.

“Once the way is clear, you go.” Cyrus poked at the tracking bracelet on Callisto’s wrist. “Make sure your sister goes with you.”

The centaur nodded, then looked at Cyrus’ hands. The boy frowned when he saw them shaking.

“You’ll be right behind us?”

“As much as I can be.” The mage tousled the boy’s hair. “But I’m also going to help your daddy so that we can all go home together, okay?”

Callisto nodded, then pressed himself against the wall and squeezed out of sight. Cyrus sighed and moved back over to the SUV and drew a wand. After emptying the pockets of the Order members who had survived his assault, he had locked them all in the containment cells. Now he was carrying a small arsenal of magic that would likely scorch his soul to the very core, but he no longer cared. His life was packed full of shitty things he had done for the Order, and while this wouldn’t balance the scales, it was the first time he would be doing it for himself.

“One last mission, old-timer.” He caught movement from the corner of his eye and saw that Grace was staring at him from her spot under the car.

“Papa Cyrus.” The Arachne grinned.

“That’s right. Papa Cyrus.”

The little girl folded her fingers together. “Family.”

His breath hitched in his chest. “That sounds real nice,” he whispered. “Now go hide by your brother.”

The Arachne scowled at him, then scurried over to join Callisto in the darkness. Cyrus jogged out into the hangar and took the spot right behind Elizabeth. The witch looked over her shoulder with some surprise.

“You’re not with your team?”

He shook his head. “Popped up here for another reason, but looks like something’s about to go down. What can I do to help?”

The witch’s lips curled into a grin. “We’re just holding them off. Laurel is already taking care of the rest. The kids will be evacuated through a secret tunnel momentarily.”

“Ah.” He tried not to frown. A secret tunnel would have made this mess a hundred times easier. That also meant that Laurel would return soon with news of his betrayal. So much for buying time. He cleared his throat and moved just ahead of Elizabeth. The hangar door groaned as something massive struck it from the other side. “Well, let’s get to it, then. Shadows yours?”

Elizabeth nodded. “Each one has the strength of ten men. Light weakens them, so please try to avoid anything flashy.”

“You’ve got it.” He withdrew the lightning rod from his pocket and clutched it tightly in one hand as he drew a knight’s blade. The heavy thudding on the door increased, and something on the other side let out a howl of rage. “We have any idea what’s out there?”

“The kitsune and the Reaper.” Elizabeth stuck a hand in her pocket and pulled out a black ring adorned with a sapphire. She slid it onto the middle finger of her left hand. “If it’s just the two of them, we’ll be fine.”

A chunk of stone broke free of the ceiling as the door bent inward.

“I don’t think it’s just the two of them.” Cyrus gripped the rod and trickled mana through its intricate runes. The magical implement immediately grew warm in his hands. “Didn’t someone say that those doors could take a hit from a missile?”

“Missiles don’t usually keep striking the same spot over and over again.” Elizabeth grinned and the sapphire ring started glowing. Thin tendrils of power connected her to a group of summoned shadows. Eerie blue auras formed around them.

“So what’s the plan? Let them bust the door down and counter? How long will Sister Laurel need to get away?”

“Right now, she’ll be leading the prisoners to the tunnel. I think five minutes will suffice.”

“Ah.” Cyrus glanced over at the elevator. “Do you happen to have another secret escape plan for us?”

Elizabeth licked her lips. “You give me the next five minutes of your life and I don’t care what you do afterward. Continue fighting, flee, it doesn’t matter. Should we ever meet again, I will consider it on good terms.”

“It’s always good to have a witch in your pocket.” Cyrus winced as the door creaked again, sending another shower of stones onto the ground. Other members of the SoS were forced to move lest they get crushed. He glanced over toward the wall where the kids were hiding, then looked the other way in order to pretend he was simply scanning the area.

Cyrus put on a silver ring and cast the protective shield spell it contained. Once it was in place, he pulled out a small string and wrapped it around his pinky. Yet another protective barrier wrapped itself around him, doubling up on his defenses. Elizabeth considered him for a moment, then nodded her approval.

The hangar door gushed frozen mist from bent seams and then burst. A massive hunk of steel rocketed straight down the hangar where it slid across the floor and showered the room in hot sparks. A cold fog rolled in immediately behind it, just barely obscuring the massive figure that came running in.

“GRACE!” screamed Bigfoot, and the SoS opened fire. Thick walls of ice sprouted around the sasquatch, protecting him from the M134 miniguns as they whirred to life. Stunned, Cyrus could only watch as Bigfoot danced around and then hid his massive bulk behind a concrete pillar.

“Hold your fire!” shouted Dirk from the darkness. “Squads one, three, and seven, flank!”

Three teams moved toward Bigfoot’s position, but stopped when he tossed something small and black into the room. Jenny the doll stopped just a foot above the floor, hovering in place.

“There’s something so familiar about that doll,” Elizabeth muttered. However, her eyes were on the opening of the hangar where Yuki the kitsune strode through. Three of her tails were a beautiful red and gold, but the other two were made entirely of golden light. “And now the fox has come to play.”

Yuki threw a handful of tarot cards out as the shadows rushed her. Cyrus considered stabbing Elizabeth, but knew that it was highly unlikely that he’d get away with such an attack. Sighing, he took the sword and jammed it into the ground between them. The witch was already caught up in coordinating her attacks, and one of the miniguns twisted around to point at Jenny. The spray of bullets spread away from her, but Cyrus watched the doll falter and drop as she protected herself from the storm.