BOOK 3 - Myth Ch. 03

"Reap." The word was a woman's whisper and it felt like her breath blew across the back of his neck.

Norrix hadn't heard that voice in a long time. "Cover your ears."

The sword zipped forwards, plunging into the man's chest. He didn't make a sound until the sword pulled back, dangling the man's soul on its tip. The soul screamed, a sound full of agony and regret that resounded in Norrix's soul. It was the tortured sound of a soul being fed all the pain and suffering it had caused in its life. Souls didn't need to breathe and the sound went on in one continuous cry. Riveted, he kept his eyes on the soul as the blade absorbed it.

The silence, when it fell, seemed louder than the scream. Overhead, the cloud of shadow elongated and fell away, absorbed into the body of the hooded woman who stepped out of it. Zax ran her eyes over the crowd and held up a hand. "Is anyone else having impolite thoughts?"

Ember shivered. "I feel like she knows everything about me now."

"She does. She can see your past and future."

The sword, glowed a muted, contented silver, flew to Zax and smacked its hilt into her open palm.

A curious creature, something like a cross between a parrot and a dragon perched on Zax's shoulder. "Play nice or you go to bedtime bedtime," Kasuku announced.

Someone tittered, and the dread covering the room snapped.

Shadow steps formed under Zax's booted feet and she descended to stand in front of Norrix. She tugged her hood down to reveal black hair with red streaks and two-toned eyes of emerald green and golden hazel. "Norrix."

"Zax. Bastian."

"Hello Norrix." As usual, Bastian's voice was disembodied. Ember and Stryx glanced around, startled.

"I saw you in my visions," Ember took a step forward.

Zax nodded. "The Morrigan is a friend of mine. We've fought together many times. Do you remember what I told you, Norrix?"

"You've told me many things over the years. Do you mean something about cake?"

She smirked. "Cake is important. But no. About the beginning of the end."

"You said the beginning of the end would happen when I saw the world with child's eyes again."

Zax nodded.

"Am I to age backwards now?"

Zax cocked her head, crossed her arms and tapped a finger on her chin. "You think I could do that?"

"The first time we met I saw you beat back a darkness that was killing a world. If there is a limit to what you can do, I'm not going to say it."

"Don't encourage her." Bastian murmured."I have enough difficulty keeping her out of trouble."

Zax snorted. "I don't get in trouble. And anyway, that whole aging backwards thing has been done. Did you know, while you're standing here talking to me, your Draga is getting away?"

"I didn't want to chase her here."

"We'll make an exception for you. Run, Norrix, run!"

Norrix laughed. "She's still getting her pop culture wrong, I see."

Bastian sighed. "I've given up. She refuses to learn. It's her small mind."

"This small mind thinks Norrix is an idiot for standing here. Go on. You've waited long enough. Go find your Draga, and when you do, kiss the girl."

<><><><><>

Mr. N!" Clio greeted him. "How can I help you?"

"I need a second key."

"Mr. N!!" She waggled her eyebrows and clapped her hands. "Adultery, banging, coitus, dalliance, erotica, fuc—"

"Stop!" Norrix cut off Clio's latest alphabetical list by placing a finger over her lips. "May I please have a second key?"

Clio's eyes sparkled. "But Mr. N, you've never asked for a second key before, not in the thousands of years I've worked here. Is it love?"

Norrix opened his mouth, closed it.

"It is!" Clio squealed and clapped her hands. "We do weddings on Floor 13-N. I can move your room right now!" She spun in a circle, fanning out her skirt and hair. "I love weddings!"

He held up his hands. "Whoa, we're not to the wedding stage yet."

Additional key in hand, Norrix stalked to his room, his Draga's scent leading him. She'd gone to his room. She'd be safe there. Esne. His blood boiled in his veins. That is what mages called witches they used for breeding. The idea of his Draga being treated that way, thinking she had no identity of her own, made him want to murder someone.

Opening his door he searched the room, but his Draga wasn't here. She'd come to the door and left. Frustrated, he threw himself on the sofa. He could follow her scent here because she'd come to his space. Ashana wouldn't let him track her that way to her room.

<><><><><>

Norrix knocked on the door to Ember and Stryx's room.

Ember flung the door open and waved him inside. "Did you find her?"

"No. She came to my room but she didn't wait."

"We left a message at the front desk for the sellers of the knife and book."

The door rattled on its hinges as a thunderous knock resounded. Ember opened it and two streaks of light zoomed into the room. Small, high-pitched voices chanted.

"I'm One and he's Two," the purple one said.

"Gotta message for you," the orange one said.

"We can sing,"

"Or give you a ring!"

They hovered with an air of expectancy, envelope clutched between them.

"Can we just read it?" Ember reached for the message.

The pixies darted higher, staying out of reach as they tore open the envelope.

"Never been asked to do that before."

"Let's offer that option more!"

The envelope was as big as the pixies, and it took them several minutes to wrestle the message out. As far as Norrix knew, pixies couldn't read. They could remember small messages, especially if the words rhymed, but he'd never seen one read anything before.

When they finally managed to unfold the message the paper was so long it kept folding over their heads as they tried to straighten it. They shoved one another and argued over which way to hold the message, then, inevitably, they tore the paper.

"Had one message for you," the purple one chanted.

"Now you have two!" The orange one finished.

The halves of the message floated to the floor as the pixies darted for the door, crashing into one another at the doorknob in their rush to escape through the keyhole.

Stryx had his arms crossed, a look of irritation on his face, but Ember laughed as she knelt and picked up the papers. "They were adorable."

"Don't let them hear you calling them that," Norrix said. "They prefer to be ferocious."

"Deathless has invited to vodka with Baba Yaga."

"To vodka?"

"It's what the Rus do instead of tea."

"Wasn't Deathless the enemy Clio told you was here?"

"Yes, but he won't hurt me over vodka. That's not civilized."

<><><><><>

"Hello, Deathless."

"You have kept my secret, Witness. I have no problem with you unless that changes." Koschei was a huge man, tall as Norrix, and broad shouldered. Long black hair hung free around his face and his black eyes burned like coals.

"Have you seen my ballerina?" Baba Yaga's eyes were feverish with hope as she squeezed Ember's hands in hers. She wore her young persona. Smooth skin, long dark hair. "I miss her."

"I'm sorry, I don't know any ballerinas."

"You know her! Why do you say you do not when you do! I want my ballerina back!"

Ember winced and tried to pull her hands away.

Koschei gathered Baba Yaga into his arms and guided her to a chair. He poured her some vodka, but she didn't drink it. She held it in her lap as tears slid down her cheeks. She changed into her hag appearance as Norrix watched. Her small, straight nose curved into something beak-like, her skin wrinkled, her hair grayed and her body shrank in on itself.

"I'm so sorry," Ember whispered. "I really don't know any ballerinas. I would tell her if I did."

Koschei took a deep breath and blew it out. "She is losing her mind to grief. Her ballerina was lost to her centuries ago. She used to search Rus, then beyond those borders, then the world. She expanded her search to other worlds, but she's never found her ballerina."

"Why does she think I know her ballerina?"

"We saw you looking at the book and knife we put in the auction. I took it from a pale man before I killed him. You have seen these men, with white eyes and white hair, yes? This one worked for one of them. He said he knew where the ballerina was and offered the book as proof. He told us about this auction, and said whoever showed interest in the book would know where the ballerina is. Baba sensed a faint trace of her ballerina on the book, so we thought he might be telling the truth."

"Why did you kill him?" Norrix asked.

"I didn't right away. I planned to keep him alive until we knew if his information was accurate. Now I think it was a trap for Baba, but we had to come anyway. I killed him because he tried to siphon Baba's magic and my soul."

Norrix laughed before he could stop himself. Koschei glared at him long enough he wondered if Zax was going to have to show up again, but Koschei laughed, too. He pounded the table with a fist and poured two shots of vodka. He slid one to Norrix, who held it up. Koschei clinked his shot glass with Norrix's, took Norrix's back, and downed both shots.

"Nostrovia," Norrix said, thanking him for the drink.

Koschei shook his head. "Never would I agree to become such a creature who could not drink vodka."

"What is so amusing about a Mage trying to steal someone's soul?" Stryx asked.

Koschei shrugged. "I am called Koschei the Deathless because I am immortal. My soul was taken and hidden long ago. There is nothing in me for anyone to take."

"Have you seen anyone else show interest in the book?" Norrix asked.

"The woman you knocked over." Koschei poured more vodka and smirked. "I thought she wanted the book too, but you scared her off before I had the chance to see for sure. No one else."

There was no way Norrix was going to allow Koschei to get his hands on his Draga. But his Draga did know a Mage, she wouldn't be called Esne if she didn't. Maybe the Mage keeping her prisoner would know where Baba Yaga's ballerina was.

"Did Baba's ballerina love a vampire?" Ember asked.

It was easy to see parallels between Ember and Baba Yaga. It hadn't been centuries for Ember, but Norrix had no doubt Ember would spend whatever amount of time it took to get her sister back, or revenge. Or both.

"She would not love a cursed one." Baba Yaga hissed the last words.

"Would you consider selling the book to us?" Stryx asked. "Maybe Selene can figure something out about your ballerina."

"Selene lives? She vanished a thousand years ago." Baba Yaga rose to her feet and crossed the room. She peered into Stryx's eyes, reaching out to grip his chin in one hand and turn his face side to side. "You have your father's eyes, but I see some of Selene in your face. You may have the book." She slumped into a chair, a vacant expression on her face.

"She's always tired after her lucid moments. She won't say anything else tonight. I'll notify the auction the book won't be for sale tomorrow."

"Don't do it quite yet. Let people think it's still available to bid on. We could let everyone see us pick up the book after the auction in the morning. Maybe someone will panic when it's not for sale and approach us."

<><><><><>

NORRIX

"They're serious about keeping vampires out." Norrix eyed the length of floor to ceiling windows streaming sunlight into the corridor that led to the auction hall. After walking around and flying into the sun with the help of Ember's magic the idea wasn't terrifying anymore, but he still had a healthy case of nerves.

Ember placed a hand on his arm. "Just act like you're escorting me. It'll be fine."

Norrix bent his arm and pulled her wrist through the crook of his elbow. Stryx walked alongside them as they stepped into the sun. Again.

Heat warmed his skin. Light shined in his eyes. Did this passage never end? They walked, far too slowly for his liking. He tried to distract himself from possible immolation at any moment. What sorts of relics would they find? For Musette he would focus on medicinal things, like snake stones, elixirs, amulets—

"Hey! You three! Stop right there!" A man with hair so light it was almost white aimed a crossbow at them. "Who are you?"

Norrix winced as Ember's hand gripped his arm, fingers digging into his skin through his clothing.

"I am Xekta This is Ebeneezer and Bubba." Ember's syrupy tone sounded like death to Norrix, entirely too sweet. She winked at the man holding the crossbow. "I think it's obvious why I keep them around."

A blonde woman rose from her desk at the entrance to the hall and sauntered over. She ran her eyes over Norrix and Stryx. "I'll say."

"Back to work, succubus." The man shoved her back towards the desk and motioned for a second pale-haired man to join him. "No one can go in unless they prove they aren't a vampire. Anyone else is welcome."

"Thank you." Ember started forward.

The man held up a hand. "Obviously those two aren't vampires, but you'll need to remove your hood and walk in the sun."

"Oh, you don't want me to do that. I'm descended from Gorgons, in case you hadn't noticed.. It's easier to just cover up than to have everyone turn to stone, right? Your bosses won't make much money if I turn everyone to statues and only bid on what I want. Although they'd have some nice garden statuary to sell at the next auction."

"Gorgons!" The minion snorted and nudged his partner. "Sure. Whatever. Just remove your hood and walk in the sun. Otherwise you won't be allowed in."

"Well, if you're going to be tiresome about it, I suppose I could turn one of you to stone to prove it. Then the other of you will let me in, correct?" She turned her head from one man to the other and back in slow motion. " Let's call it lady's choice."

Ember reached up to remove her mask as she stepped towards the men. "Strike a pose, boys. This will last longer even than a picture, so you'll want to make sure you're not doing anything embarrassing. Eeny..." Silver and black magic spilled out from the edges of the mask.

"Meeny..." She lowered the mask a fraction of an inch. Her hood roiled like snakes slithered under it.

Could she actually turn someone to stone? He'd seen strygoi magic do a lot of things over the millennia, but not that. Then again, he'd never seen a vampire walk in the sun, either. His Witness powers stirred.

"Miney..." A black tendril darted out from beneath her hood and whipped through the air at the guard on the left. More tendrils emerged from her hood.

The second man shoved the first man aside and bowed low. "I apologize for his behavior Vasilissa." He spoke with a sibilance that drew his ess sounds out. "Please, enter."

"Thank you, darling." Ember shifted her mask back into place and the magic withdrew. She led the way past the guards, only to be stopped at the desk.

"You'll need to register your tokens if you intend to bid. Even Gorgons." The blonde succubus lowered her voice and leaned forward. "Tell me, can you turn only parts of them to stone when you want to?"

"They don't need any help with those parts." Ember smirked.

The woman crooked a finger at Norrix. Playing along he lowered his head. "Be careful. That second guard works for Haestratus."

"Do not impede the Vasilissa!" The second guard snarled the order at the blonde.

"Thank you for telling me." Norrix held the woman's hand to his lips and kissed her palm. She flushed and giggled as she resumed her seat.

"Ebeneezer, Bubba, show the woman our tokens."

The woman jotted down numbers and colors and waved them through.

"Ebeneezer?" Stryx hissed. "Really?"

"What? You are kind of grouchy. And I didn't say which of you was Ebeneezer, you just knew, didn't you?"

Norrix watched the bidders, Witnessing who was here and their conversations, always keeping part of his attention on the door. His Draga hadn't come to him last night and he hoped to see her today. From the back row Koschei gave him the barest hint of a nod. At least things were ready on that front.

Norrix

<><><><><>

MYTH

The knife wasn't up for auction for a while yet, but Myth liked seeing the variety of wonders in Ashana. Wandering towards the auction, she listened and made up details about people and creatures she saw so she could tell Fable about them when she returned to Aztlan.

The room the bidding took place in had floor to ceiling windows on one side, washing the entire space in sunlight so bright she couldn't see outside. Rows of chairs faced a stage. White and light-haired men made up the majority of the crowd. Myth resisted the urge to shudder. Iqiohr had dark hair once, but the more magic he used, or took, the paler he grew. The men stood and sat in small groups. Mages rarely left their bases of power and never trusted each other. Their acolytes and guards performed most of the necessary interactions.

Myth took a seat two rows behind Norrix, his friend and their witch. Norrix clutched the woman's hand like he'd never let her go. Myth stared at their connection, wondering what that simple touch felt like. Something hot and angry curled around her heart, shocking her with its intensity. Feeling out of sorts, she averted her gaze. She hadn't been able to sleep. She wondered if Fable was okay. She hoped Iqiohr had only been using that boy as a threat. She wondered why she'd reacted to Norrix. She wondered why she wondered about Norrix at all. He already had an Esne.

While Norrix held the witch's hand, the woman was paying attention to the dark-haired man, the two of them wrapped in one another like Norrix wasn't there.

"Awkward," Norrix muttered.

"My Draga." The dark man's voice was only meant for the woman next to him, but it carried tones of lust and promise to Myth's ears.

Myth sighed and shifted in her seat, unfamiliar sensations rushing through her body. She crossed, uncrossed, and recrossed her legs. Esne or not, Myth wished a man would adore her like that.

Norrix whirled in his seat and took a deep breath.

"No, now it's awkward." The witch laughed. "Stop using your come hither voice in public, Ebeneezer."

"Join me?" Norrix asked Myth, waving his free hand at the empty seat next to him. "Please save me from these two. You're my only hope."

"We'll behave if you sit with us," the witch promised. She didn't sound frightened of the men at all.

These three did not act at all appropriately in public. Unless the men were tricking their witch letting her act out in public and saving their punishments for later. Two white-haired men staring at Myth from across the room made up her mind. Their white eyes reminded her of Iqiohr when he was going to play a game with her—one she couldn't win. They started towards her.

Rising to her feet Myth scurried to the aisle and scooted into Norrix's row. She sat next to him but recoiled when he offered her his hand. "You can't touch me, you'll be skinned!"

Norrix frowned at her, but before he could reply a short man wearing a red coat with gold buttons, a red top hat, and carrying a short carved wooden walking stick, strode onstage and made his way to the dais. He climbed a few steps to reach a microphone mounted on a podium.

Myth tried not to gape. There were so many things here she'd only heard about. From stories passed through her mother the only thing this man could be was a leprechaun.

He opened the auction without preamble. "First, we have a necklace from Albion."

Myth inhaled as magic swept over her. Blinking, she resisted the magic of the Iruvian lilt the auctioneer spoke in. Several attendees around her fixed avid gazes on the man, their hands twitching, ready to raise their tokens to bid.

"Said to have belonged to The Lady of the Lake herself," the leprechaun's hypnotizing voice rolled through the room,"the legend goes the necklace will make its wearer unfathomably loved. We are accepting red bids for this item."