Homelands Pt. 03 Ch. 01

"Yeah," I said. My voice sounded distant to my own ears.

Some of the figures dotting the sky looked exactly like my mental image of a fallen angel. Others embodied all that was demonic.

Did it matter if Iva's intention was for us to return home safe?

"It's beautiful," Mel said.

Wendy stepped up beside me. "Sure is."

I glanced at the others, wondering what they'd chosen by way of apparel. Wendy wore an indigo gown, a belt of silver medallions, and a hooded black cape. Sean wore a suit much like mine. His was navy blue with pinstripes while mine was solid black. Mel wore a red skirt with orange and brown leaves embroidered along the hem and up one hip. Her blouse was plain brown. A silver necklace, its links shaped like oak leaves, hung about her neck.

"If it comes to that, do you think the two of you can fight?" I asked Sean and Mel.

I'd tussled with Lily a few times, while wearing a wolf's skin. As Sean had pointed out, I'd had some practice flying as well. But what of the two of them?

"Think so," Mel said, sounding uncertain.

"No doubt," Sean said.

I sighed at my nephew's response. Even I wasn't sure I wanted to go toe to toe with anyone we might come across here.

"Ready as we'll ever be," I said.

The train pulled into the station, which looked like a dock for ships as much as anything. It was a long stone pier jutting out from the edge of the island into the sea of nothingness.

A robed figure awaited us on the pier. His garment was finest silk, and decorated with silver crescent moons and stars.

"Can you say cheesy?" Sean muttered.

Mel elbowed him in the ribs.

The door to our train car slid open with a soft whoosh.

A deep voice came from under the hood. "Welcome to the Shadowed Glade of the Moon."

"Thank you," I said. "We are honored to be your guests."

The stranger craned his neck back to look Sean in the eyes. The light from the lamppost at the edge of the pier fell on his face, and I was not the least bit surprised to find it was skeletal. Silver tongues of flame danced in his otherwise empty eye sockets.

I told myself that I could look the same way, if I chose. Nothing scary about it.

"Let me show you to Ahpanastar," the voice said. "We've prepared rooms for you in the Supplicants' Hall, where you can wait to be summoned by the Magister."

"I'm sorry, did you say Upon-a-Star?" Sean asked.

"Ahpanastar," the voice said. It sounded the same, but the words were mushed together.

Upon-a-Star. The Supplicants' Hall. "I'm sorry. I trust our queen did convey that I'm here to serve as an ambassador for the Third Autumnal Court."

"'And thus shall you await your audience with the other ambassadors, and do so in luxury," the voice said. "Else we'd send you to the Forgotten Tower, high upon the Isle of Refuge, where we send all those who seek asylum."

"Has anyone ever actually been granted Asylum?" Sean asked.

"Certainly. Nearly two in ten are eventually welcomed into our court."

"That's not so bad," Sean whispered to Mel.

"This way, if you please," the skeletal figure said, beckoning us to walk down the pier. His finger bones were yellowed, almost golden.

We followed as the stranger led us down cobbled streets. The Supplicants' Hall was only two blocks away. It was a long, low, rectangular building, carved from purple marble. Bas relief carvings were etched into the walls, depicting battles between angels and demons. Or so I'd have thought, once. But I supposed it was a scene from one of the seven great wars between the Eternal Garden of the Sun and the Shadowed Glade of the Moon.

"You're free to roam the city tonight, if you wish. So long as you stay outside Old City."

"Tonight?" Mel asked.

"When the moon is out, as it will be tomorrow, your kind would do well to stay indoors," our guide said. Then, after a brief pause, he added, "Forgive me. I forget myself. As I understand it, your courts have both nights and days, and you mark the passing of time by their comings and goings. It is, of course, always night here. But you'll adjust quickly. It's simple enough. The moon comes out every other night."

The guide led us inside the building. Everything was shades of black, blue, and purple, trimmed with silver. The rooms were more of the same.

They were also cramped. There were mattresses lying directly on the floor, without frames or box springs. Other than that, the only other furnishings were a small table and two wooden chairs that looked designed for minimal comfort.

"Your other room is the one across the hall," the guide said. Then he offered a slight bow and added, "I bid you good evening." His robe crumpled to the ground, then melted into the shadows and was gone.

"Show-off," Sean said.

"So, who wants to go exploring?" Mel asked.

"No one's going out," I said.

"But it's safe tonight. No moon. Skeletor said so," my niece insisted.

"Not until we know more. His definition of safe may be as different from yours and mine as his concept of luxury clearly is."

#

We waited in the Supplicants' Hall for more than two days before seeing the Magister. When we were finally summoned, I told the Magister that I was only requesting to be allowed to pay a visit to Lily's father, Lord Furcas, that I had no business for the King or his Council. I was promptly informed that Lord Furcas would be made aware of my request, and he would send for me when and if he saw fit.

As it turned out, we only had to wait a few hours for that to happen.

Vincent Furcas sat atop his throne, resting his hands on the head of his great double-headed battle axe. Each blade was half again as large as my head, and, from the look of it, sharp enough to shave with. But Furcas was more than man enough to wield such a monster. He stood close to eight feet tall, and his every muscle was enormous even considering his height. His white beard reached the floor, but the top of his blue head was bald. Runes of some sort or other had been tattooed in silver on his scalp, and covered the length of at least one arm. I couldn't be sure about the other, because it was covered in mail and plate. As was the rest of his body, save for his head and the one arm. The mail was black, the plates deep indigo, lined with silver filigree.

Even Sean was speechless.

Four men and three women sat on the stone steps of his dais. They all had blue skin, and hair either of indigo, violet, or some other shade of purple. Only two of the men and one of the women wore roughly human visages.

One of the men had black, leathery skin, huge bat-like wings, a chin that reached almost to his abdomen with teeth to match, a barbed tail, and claws like steak knives. The insides of his wings were indigo, as were his pecs, abs, and most of his forearms.

Another had goat legs, a man's torso, and three heads: a lion's, a dragon's, and a bull's. He held a flaming sword in one hand, a length of chain in the other.

One of the women had six arms. Each held a wickedly curved knife. She wore a veil of steal chain over her blue face, a chain mail hauberk, and leather pants. She could have been Lily's less voluptuous, more athletic twin. You know, besides having six arms.

Wendy pressed up against my back, one hand on my side, the other on my shoulder. I heard her breathe in, but not exhale.

We'd taken to dressing a bit more in line with the local custom, but none of us wore armor or weapons. Nevermind wings, dragon's heads, or extra arms.

I was awfully tempted to wolf out. Not in the four-legged sense either.

"Lord Furcas," I said, bowing.

"So. You're the whelp that Devoured my daughter."

Well, now I knew where my late wife's bluntness had come from.

"I've come to offer restitution in whatever form you'd have it."

He snorted. "Well, if no one had told me, I'd never have known or cared. But I'm not one to turn down a gift." He eyed first Mel, then Sean. "So happens I've got two sons and a daughter who've recently come of age. I'd like to marry them off. Maybe one of them will give me some grandchildren that'll be less disappointing than most of this brood has been."

Sean stood up straighter. Mel betrayed no reaction at all.

Though his words were more or less directed at my niece and nephew, his eyes never left mine as he said, "The girl can have her choice of my sons. The boy will marry Rose." He nodded to himself. "Yes, that will do. You may go now."

Before any of us could respond, the winged demon spoke up. "You can't really mean to let Lily's killer go that easily? It would be an insult to House Furcas."

Lord Furcas harrumphed.

"Let me give you his head," the demon said.

I did my best to keep my voice calm. "Make it a duel."

Eight pairs of eyes turned to me as one. A shudder ran down my spine.

"Your son wants to kill me?" I said. "Let him try. But if he fails, our debt is settled. And we all get to go leave."

"Interesting," Lord Furcas said. "But I'm afraid those two are staying either way though." He turned to his son. "If you manage to win, I'll let you go to the Garden."

"Done," the demon snapped.

"Don't do this, Frank," Wendy whispered.

"This guy will just kill me in my sleep if I don't take care of him now," I said.

The demon leered at me, a forked tongue dancing over those massive teeth.

I looked to Mel. Her face was impassive. But after a while, she nodded.

"There are worse things than marriage," Mel said in a whisper.

I looked back to the throne. "Agreed," I said.

"Excellent," Lord Furcas said.

"So when will we-"

The demon closed half the distance between us before I even realized he was moving. I dove right, but he corrected course. Those long claws bit into my left leg.

The pain was excruciating.

I couldn't see. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.

My vision slowly returned. I glanced down to see the wound in my leg.

There were four gashes, each bone-deep. Gashes might not even have been the right term. For fuck's sake, huge chunks of my leg were missing. There were some bloody bits remaining, but basically, from mid-thigh to just above my knee, one side of my leg was little more than exposed bone and gushing blood.

Wasn't my life supposed to be flashing before my eyes?

Why did I feel so numb?

The demon leaned down in front of me. His forked tongue flickered back and forth, stinging my cheeks. "He's still alive," he said.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw him raise his right hand.

I caught it in my left hand and made a ruin of his head with the right. Bloody bits of bone, skin and brain rained down on me as everything above his lower jaw exploded.