Soul Shock, page 34
I started, and her daughters gasped. Worry tightened Cliff’s face. That hadn’t been the plan. We had all agreed to offer things that were important to us. The idea was to give Cliff meaningful and personal reasons to break through the joy of the fight. To show him, we had his back.
“Mom?” Sophie whispered, “What the hell you doing?”
Joy herself had coughed a little when Gloria had altered the script, but the patronizing smile quickly reappeared on her face. “An old woman for an old woman then.”
“No. You lose, you take all your hooks out of my son,” Gloria insisted. “And you never touch him again.”
She laughed her infuriating chuckle, “My dear, poor hag, You’re not worth one quarter of the Crimson Knight, but I am generous. In the unlikely event of his triumph, you may take any three members of my little court. I’m sure you’ll recognize a few familiar faces. Now it’s way past time to get this party started.” Standing, her voice boomed, “Ladies and Gentlemen! Wagers are now closed. All bettors may watch the fight from a special bettor’s box. She blew a thick plume of smoke at an area just above the garage door entrance to the arena. It whirled for a moment and then dissipated to reveal a roofed balcony with wooden bars.
A group of leafy-haired men swiftly surrounded us. I grabbed hold of Cliff before they could herd us all away.
“We’re all counting on you now, Cliff. You can do it. Keep focused. I know you can,” I told him and popped up to kiss his cheek.
“I can do it,” he responded, eyes not quite looking at me, but a bit less glassy.
Each of his sisters gave him a hug, and his mother gave him a whispered pep talk, which I hoped was helpful.
Then we were escorted to the box and locked in. The box came equipped with a long couch that the Giffords quickly claimed. I elected to stand and hug myself anxiously as Joy floated down from her throne onto the ground. It was up to Cliff and Secret now. My cat cub still sat down there with Cindy. She’d said she could pry the weave off Cliff if we loosened anchors, but hadn’t elaborated on how that would be done.
48
Joy and Cliff faced off, swords drawn. Cliff had now donned the helmet of the Crimson Knight
“So this duel begins for the fate of Fremont Street!” Joy announced. The crowd burst into cheers.
“And so much more,” Cliff shouted, his words mostly lost in the cheers but my ears caught it.
“To the blood!” Joy lunged, body blurring with her speed. My heart stopped with the fear that Joy would end the duel in a single blow. Cliff barely shifted his sword to receive it, but an inch of movement still turned the thrust of her blade. Lashing out with a gauntleted fist, Cliff struck her chest and sent her flying, much like her kick had done to him during their first encounter. Those under the red banner roared as Joy flipped midair and landed on her feet. Yet, before she could recover entirely, Cliff rushed in with a sweeping swing of his sword. The blow narrowly missed, Joy allowing herself to fall beneath it rather than duck.
“Get her! Get her, Cliff!” I shouted down at him. His sword whirled, forcing the Fey to dodge erratically with her blurring speed, but unable to get her blade positioned to parry. Rolling sideways right before he drove her across the painted circle of the ring, she finally gained the distance to put her sword between them. They rang and scraped together as she drove him back with alternating thrusts and slices at his legs. The tip occasionally glancing off his armored shins. Her confident grin grew as he performed a reversal, and drove her back at a steady pace, the frantic clashing of their swords normalized to the steady beat of a dance. Shit! I could almost see the strings she had attached to Cliff.
In the stands, Secret had crept beneath the lowest riser. Extending one black-furred hand towards the duel. Waiting for something, but I didn’t know what. Did she need Cliff closer? They traded blows on a line directly between the two sides, Cliff on the far side from me. I did the only thing I could do; I gripped the bars on our cage and yelled, “Cliff! I’m here for you and you’re fighting for me! What do you want, Cliff? You have to decide!”
He looked at me, his sword moving in near unconscious, choreographed strokes. His mouth moved and I saw words on his lips, “I want to win.”
“Then do it!” I mouthed back.
In the corner of my eye, Secret’s hand closed on an invisible string and in the same way you feel rather hear a heavy bass, a sharp twang vibrated through my body. Joy whirled, sheer venom in her eyes, but Cliff pounced on her distraction, nearly bisecting her skull. The basket hilt of her rapier intercepted the blow and it, not the blade, slammed into her temple. Staggering, her form blurred pink, and she zipped to the farthest point from Cliff in the circle. He only gave her time for a single shake of her head, but she recovered in time. She led him around the rim of the circle, trying to time her parries to strike on a regular beat.
“What did you do to piss her off like that?” Sophie hiss-whispered beside me.
“Called out to him. Reminded him,” I whispered.
“Little bro! This is your one shot! If you don’t take her apart right now, then I will,” she called out to him. Another twang went through my soul. This time Joy didn’t look in our direction and deflected Cliff’s hammer-like attacks. It was working. The strain was evident in Joy’s body as she fought to push their match back into a dance.
“Cliff! Cliff! Cliff!” The crowd beneath the red banner chanted, not for the Crimson Knight. Cindy’s big hat dead center within them.
“Cliff! You kill that bitch! You do it for your dad. You hear me!” Gloria’s voice called out, and a third twang sounded. The red armor surrounding Cliff dissolved from his body like sand, revealing a dirty red robe beneath it, saturated with sweat. He completed his swing and then faltered, collapsing to his knees; his sword clattered on the pavement.
Joy lifted her sword and laughed, “My dear Crimson Knight, it’s a bad idea to discard your armor in the middle of a fight, particularly when it’s the only thing that’s keeping you standing. Remembering how many days it’s been since you’ve slept? Or maybe you can’t even count that high.”
Cliff didn’t answer her, slowly raising his head toward me, us. In the box. The whites of his eyes were red from lack of sleep, his entire frame wan. Yet, despite all that, he moved his lips and formed three words, “I got this.”
“You better.” I mouthed back, because I couldn’t help him. Trapped in a box.
“Untangling a mortal from magic rarely does that mortal any favors. Mortal limits never go away; they wait for you.” Joy used her left hand to retrieve her vape stick and take a deep inhalation. “Mmmmm, there’s a certain flavor of joy when you know you’ve got the upper hand. Do you surrender now, Sir Knight?” she asked as she lowered herself down into a fencing pose. “There’s no iron you can toss at me this time.”
Cliff picked up the sword and set its point against the asphalt as if he was to use it to push himself to his feet. The blade sank halfway into the ground, and he pressed his forehead against the pommel and gripped it with both hands.
“Little late for praying. What a waste. Time to move on to another game.” Joy lowered the point of her rapier to level at Cliff’s face. I gripped the bars hard enough to make them creak, but even if they weren’t there, the stakes I’d placed on the duel held me too tight to interfere. That and the hope that Cliff knew something I didn’t.
Joy did not waltz up to Cliff as if he were defenseless, she lunged, extending her arm out in a thrust aimed for his eye. As she moved, so did Cliff, a slight movement of his hands; the blade swung up out of the ground, slicing through it in a flash of metallic shine. It knocked Joy’s blade high. She twisted, her outlines softening to pink smoke, but the blade followed, kissing her midsection. A cry echoed as Joy landed face down on the pavement. Swiftly rolling away from Cliff, she popped back up onto her feet. A grimace on her face telling the story clear as the slash along the side of her jacket.
The weight of the wager vanished from my chest as I whooped in victory and flung myself at the door to the bettor’s box. The crowd under the red banner erupted as I ran out to Cliff. He’d toppled over, still clutching the sword. Crashing to my knees, I skidded into him.
“You did it!” I exclaimed as I shook his shoulder.
“Heh, how bout that,” he wheezed; something about his voice gripped my heart with ice. His lips were practically white in the way I only see in extreme blood loss.
“May I suggest taking that sword out of his hands.” Joy’s voice slithered into my ears. Jerking my head up, I found her still on the edge of the circle, holding her bloodied side and smoking.
“What the hell did you do?!” I growled at her as I knocked the sword from his hands. His palms were both covered in blood.
“Nothing. I will tell you what’s wrong with him, though. In exchange for fixing the boundaries of our territories at their current states.” She gave me that smarmy smile of hers.
I shouted over my shoulder, “Cindy! Secret! Bring me the bag. Now!” Then I growled at Joy. “You can help me save him or you can run. If he dies, I will shred you into so many pieces they’ll put you in vials and sell you as glitter.”
To my surprise, she didn’t run, but spoke softly, “the other side of Knighthood, sacrifice, is not my aspect. All deals with Azonior involve one thing only. Either the knight that wields it, or those it cleaves.” With that, she turned and walked away into a crowd of her supporters. I turned all my attention to Cliff, rolling him onto his back.
“What’s wrong with my boy now?” Gloria asked in a huff from somewhere outside my tunnel vision as I found no pulse at all. Although his chest still gasped for breath.
“His sword took his blood. We need to put it back.” And he needed a miracle to delay the shock. Maybe that I could arrange. Reaching out, I pulled wolf me in from the orbit she drifted in, and together we howled out. Not at the sun high in the sky, but at Luna, when I had first met her, shining over the decaying world of Twilight. Victoria, Love. Hold him. Hold him, please.
In answer I heard the whisper of a growl and the soft splash of Charon’s pole. Thank you!
Then came a torrent of Velcro ripping open as Cindy slammed herself down beside me, medical bag flaying open in front of her. “What’s his blood type?”
I looked up at the worried faces of his family; only Taya’s was clean of Luna’s influence, and she wouldn’t have nearly enough alone. “Doesn’t matter. It’s about to be were something.” Grabbing up a scalpel and clicking it open, I went for his neck. Zero blood trickled out when I made the incision. The artery was collapsed and clear. I slotted the in the widest needle and we squeezed an entire two-liter bag of saline directly into his bloodstream to give his circulation some volume to work with. Cliff spasmed, mouth gaping like a fish. A death spasm, but hopefully the reverse. I found the weakest of pulses as Cindy hooked up Sophie to that main line, then Gloria and Taya to veins in each arm. Sophie, who had the fastest drain, wobbled, and I took her place. Everyone offered words of encouragement as color came back into his lips. Cindy kept pressure on the artery as Cliff’s eyelids began to twitch. Yes! Some combination of blood, Luna, and Victoria had brought him back. My heart sang as my paramedic brain swore. If he moved suddenly, everything we’d put in could come right back out.
“Stay still. Cliff, stay still. Don’t move a muscle. We’ve got a needle in your neck,” I urged him while cradling his cheek. Distantly, sirens called and I urged them to hurry.
“Hurts…” He groaned, one eye opened, but the other eyelid only made it halfway.
“I bet it does, but you have to stay still. Okay?” I gave him a smile and he gave me one in return.
“Did it work? Did I get her?” he asked.
“You got her. You won,” I said, resisting the urge to berate him for nearly killing himself. “Rest for now. Not out of the woods yet.”
“He’s going to be fine,” Gloria said with absolute confidence, squatting near Cliff’s elbow. “You hear me, Cliff? I’m not outliving any of my kids. So long as I’m here, you’re not allowed to die.”
“Yeah, Mom,” Cliff whispered.
“Sssh,” Cindy hissed. She had one hand on Cliff’s neck and the other in a death grip on his head. “Glad you’re back, but no more talking unless absolutely necessary until we get you to the hospital.”
49
An ambulance arrived in a few more minutes with two paramedics. After a quick conversation, we got a board under Cliff and transferred him to their ambulance. Cindy hopped in alongside him. “Meet us at Legacy,” Cindy said, and shut the door.
I had to stop myself from running up into the driver’s seat. As they drove off, a small furry hand clasped mine. Secret peered up at me, her eyes brimming with uncertainty.
“Did I… do okay?” she asked. “Didn’t look at what was underneath. Couldn’t see it.”
Sweeping down, I hugged her tightly. “You did great.”
“But! I made him weak. I took his strength away when he needed it,” she whispered into my ear.
“You freed him, and then he made his own choice.” I stroked her hair, and she pressed her cheek against my chest. “You did awesome.” I let the hug continue for a few moments as Cliff’s family approached. “We’re not quite done yet.” I let her go and faced Gloria.
“Ready to collect our winnings?” I asked her.
“I don’t care about that, claim it for me. I’ve got all I want.” Her hands opening and closing uncertainly. She closed her eyes, and muttered, “Lord, give me strength,” before rubbing one eye. “Thank you for saving my son.”
I gave her a smile. “You’re very welcome, Gloria.”
“I know you didn’t do it for me. Now, I want to make one thing clear to you. I don’t care how you do things among your kind.” Her mouth worked, pre-assembling words as I steeled myself for what came next. “There will be a wedding.”
Wedding?! The mere suggestion had me reeling. That had not been anywhere near what I had expected to come out of her mouth. “Gloria, uh, Mrs. Gifford,” I began to babble, “we’ve had a couple dates, and then things kinda happened, and I’m not sure where we are anymore.”
She gave a single, “Hmmph,” as a shadow of a smile crept onto her face. “You’ll figure it out. When you do, there’s going to be wedding. A big one.”
I swallowed. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good girl,” she said.
Taya gave her mother an awkward hug with one arm, pinching a crutch between them. “Proud of you, Mom.”
“Don’t you go giving me a medal. I’d rather not spend another night in that box,” Gloria grumbled.
“Me, too.” Taya, looked up at me. “We’ll meet you at the hospital, Abby.”
With a nod, the pair set off toward the garage door entrance of the arena. I was somewhat surprised the structure hadn’t collapsed immediately after Joy lost the duel. Then again, this spot had never actually been her territory, so perhaps the laws of physics held outside the trees.
Sophie hadn’t moved, watching Secret and me expectantly. A very long bag over her shoulder.
“Not going with them?” I asked her.
“Just because I’ve got a cat’s tail doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten the concept of backup. Besides, Jarrel’s basketball team could use a nice victory before we pull up stakes and move out to the mountainside.” She swung the bag onto the ground and unzipped it. Revealing a shot gun and two boxes of shells. One marked iron and the other silver.
I raised a brow.
She shrugged. “We needed a Plan B. I wasn’t about to let her carry off my brother or my mother without a fight.”
“The silver?” I asked.
“You, me, Mom. Just in case.” Sophie loaded the gun with cartridges from the iron box, then slung the bag over her shoulder with her hand through the open zipper. “Been driving around with these since a few days after Dead Night.”
“That’s… comforting.” I said. Secret retreated behind me while I swallowed down a comment on how the gun would rip off her finger if she fired it like that. As ex-military, she had to know. Hopefully it wouldn’t matter. “Okay, let’s go collect our spoils from a fey who might be a very sore loser. If my Aunt managed to get the Portland Water District moving, she might be extra salty.”
We walked up 15th Street, and at the first intersection, the land itself greeted me, a vibration beneath my foot. Its energy suddenly like that of a naughty child who’d pushed a parent too far. My awareness expanded, rushing out along the street and curling around the corners. Strange fizzy roots that tasted of human dug into soil in a dozen places scattered through the neighborhood. As I continued to walk, the clap of my sandals echoed as if the ground beneath me had become hollow. Cars were abandoned on the street, idling on the road with open doors, their ‘fasten seatbelt’ alarms binging with urgency.
She’d given me the land, but she had taken the people. Still, the land knew where its people had gone. Walking a few more blocks, we could see them. A bustling convoy hurried north into Alberta Street, but something had clearly gone wrong. They swarmed like an ant nest suddenly exposed to sunlight, bustling with no goal. Orange signs declared detours and road work. Advising cars to seek other routes. The sound of jackhammers and road construction have never sounded sweet to me before. As we made it to the intersection, those without green in their hair had started to journey back to their abandoned yards and cars along the sidewalks. Those still in Joy’s thrall wandered aimlessly or had their hands clapped over their ears.
Secret wasn’t having a great time of it either. Going into cat mode, she jumped into my arms and buried her head in my elbow. Along the street itself, construction crews were busily ripping up the road with a combination of handheld and heavy equipment.
Joy found us within seconds of the three of us setting foot on Alberta Street, stepping out from a sudden plume of vivid pink smoke. That elegance she’d gained gone, the edges of her jacket fraying, and one lens of her spectacles cracked.
