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Beth frowned as she was pulled to her defensive position in the Congo. She could see the other players, but War was missing. Standing around her were three infantry worth of soldiers who eyed the surrounding forests in trepidation. Bird calls echoed across the hills as the minutes passed.
He's toying with me. She looked into the woods and raised her staff. Golden light formed a tight beam that incinerated the nearby woods, casting smoke into the sky. She clutched the staff tightly, focusing her wrath into a tight beam of energy that sliced cleanly through wood and caused it to ignite.
The beam also carved its way through War's first battalion. The men screamed in agony as they went up in flames, and cavalry made of men and elves charged forward on their horses. Gunfire mowed them down, but not before they closed the gap and tore into War's forces.
Back and forth the battle surged, Beth's nerves fraying at the edges. Her battle was far longer than the others had been, and it was hard to tell who had the advantage until almost an hour later when War stumbled out of the woods, his body pincushioned with dozens of arrows.
"Fuckin' bitch," he muttered as a dwarf buried her axe into War's skull.
Beth let out the breath she had been holding as she was pulled into the sky once more. She caught a brief glimpse of the board and saw that she and War had both lost forces, but she had come out ahead in the fight. It was still hard to think that this was a physical manifestation of a dice roll.
On each turn, the attacker could commit their forces to an assault, but had to leave one unit behind in their territory. Both the attacker and defender rolled, with the higher value winning. This meant that both sides could lose forces, and ties would always go to the defender. Luck was a fickle mistress, so it turned into a numbers game. With enough troops, an attacker could overwhelm even the toughest defense eventually. But should they overextend themselves, then their own forces became vulnerable.
War had attacked from South Africa, and Reggie currently held Madagascar. It was likely that the Rat King would come down on War's lone infantry and destroy them. This brought a grin to her face that was quickly wiped away when War pointed at her.
"Again!" He shouted, and then attacked another one of her territories.
This time she wasn't so lucky. She was in Egypt, and spent almost two hours trying to hide among the pyramids before War found her. The massive horseman cackled in delight as he brought his sword down on her head and ended their battle with blinding pain followed by darkness.
The cabin was quiet. After waking up from his dream, Mike had somehow been able to fall asleep for a few more hours. After a dreamless sleep, he woke to discover that he was alone in his room, which was a bit of a surprise. However, he welcomed the moment of solitude as he tried to gather his thoughts.
Emery had greeted him the moment Mike left his room, the imp wringing his hands in anticipation. He had prepared Mike a massive breakfast burrito smothered in green chile sauce along with a cup of coffee. Although puzzled by the absence of the others, he spent the next fifteen minutes greedily devouring the chorizo-laden meal in silence.
As he approached the end of his meal, Emery gave him a rundown of where everyone had gone. Yuki and Quetzalli were having a meeting with the owl out in the woods. It bothered him that he didn't know her name, but it brought to mind the idea that names were powerful tools for magic users.
Velvet was out getting food. With their temporary truce in effect, the Nirumbi had divulged where they had driven the prey animals to, and she was famished. Bigfoot had gone with her, which made him feel marginally better.
Dana was out in the barn. Emery had no idea what she was doing out there. On the roof, Abella stood with her wings opened wide, as if defiant in the face of the sun.
Glad that he hadn't been totally abandoned, he had Emery start him a new pot of coffee and then wandered upstairs while the imp stayed behind to clean. Despite the events of the last couple of days, Emery hummed a delightful melody as he cleaned the kitchen.
At the top of the stairs, Mike tapped the wood with his shoes. It didn't look anything like it had in his dream, and he stopped just short of going into Velvet's room. The door was closed, so he turned and walked down the hall to the other door. The letter E had been carved into the wood, so he left that one alone, too.
There was a small room at the end of the hall that overlooked the first floor. A few bookshelves were set up, populated mostly with books for running Dungeons and Dragons' campaigns. Curious, he looked through a couple of them, thinking back to the few times he had dabbled in role-playing games in college.
In the process of putting away a book, he caught a flash of color out of the corner of his eye. Walking over toward the railing, he saw that someone had drawn a picture in crayon on the wall just behind one of the supports. Using a nearby chair as a footstool, he stepped up onto the balcony, which let him reach the beam and pull himself up.
He was more than a little surprised at how easy it was to climb up into the rafters. Usually, such a maneuver would take a bit of huffing and puffing, but he slid into the space effortlessly. He was greeted by dozens of drawings done in crayon, tucked away from watchful eyes below.
They were mostly stick figures. He recognized Eulalie and Velvet right away, as well as Bigfoot. There was a man who must have been Darren, and then there was their mother, Ana. She was often drawn with an apron around her waist.
Had Velvet done these? Or had it been Eulalie? Looking around, he saw that the pictures were squirreled away in a few other locations, but these would be harder to get to. Climbing through the rafters of the house sounded like a dumb way to get injured, so he stayed where he was and just looked around.
What had living here for an entire lifetime been like? He wondered if Velvet and Eulalie had played tag up here, or maybe even an epic game of hide-and-seek with their father. As he listened to Emery humming, he didn't doubt that this was a place that had once been filled with love and laughter. It had seen so much violence in the last few days, it must have been jarring.
Down below, he saw Emery sneak a peek over his shoulder, then pull a silver coin out of a hiding spot and start polishing it.
The cabin was alive, just like the house. What kind of people had lived in these walls? What sort of deeds had the cabin witnessed over the years? Mike slid off the beam and casually hopped down from the railing to the floor. When he was halfway down the stairs, he saw the coin in Emery's hand disappear as if by magic.
"You don't have to hide your treasure," he told the imp. "I'm not going to take it."
Emery bit his lip in frustration and then looked down at his feet, his wings drooping. "It's my job to take care of this place," he explained, "not polish my collection."
"Does polishing your collection make you happy?" Mike asked.
The imp nodded tentatively.
"Do you do a better job when you're happy?" Mike asked.
Emery scrunched up his face, as if afraid to answer. When he spoke, his voice was a hopeful squeak. "I think so."
"From now on, I want you to take some time for yourself. Every single day." Mike pulled the now full carafe of coffee off the counter. "Polish your collection. Go for a walk, er, fly. Whatever. Consider it an order if that's what it takes."
A look of sheer joy bloomed across the imp's face, and the coin reappeared in his hands.
"This one is a silver dollar from 1901," Emery declared, then set it on the table between them. Mike noticed that the coin looked clean as if it had recently come from the mint. "The woman on it is very pretty."
"She is."
"I like the ones with faces on them the best. During the lonely times, it felt like they were my friends." Emery picked up the coin and smiled at it as a mother would to a child.
"Speaking of being lonely, do you ever feel..." Mike looked around conspiratorially and lowered his voice. "Do you ever feel like this place is alive?"
Emery's eyes widened even further, and then he nodded.
"Every home is alive in its own way, Caretaker. If you stand in the door, you can feel it breathing around you. Stand on its floors, and you can feel its heartbeat." The imp grabbed Mike's finger in his tiny hands. "When you fill a good house with love, it loves you back. It will shelter you in a storm, and warm you when you are cold. I think you know by now that this place is very special."
The conversation was taking an unexpected turn.
"Special, how, Emery?"
The imp grinned, and then his eyes flicked to the woman on the coin. "Special in ways I can't say. In the same ways that the trees speak to Master Foot, this place can speak through you."
"You mean to me?"
Emery smiled, his brow furrowing up and making him look like an old man.
"I said what I said." He let go of Mike's hand and picked up the coin. "My magic helps me keep the coins clean. I'm an earth elemental. Anything that comes out of the ground, I can manipulate, even restore it to its previous luster. I suspect you have a similar ability when it comes to Velvet. I haven't seen her this happy in months. When you take her from this place, I ask that you take very good care of her."
Mike laughed, then held out a finger for the imp to shake. "You've got yourself a deal," he said.
They sat and chatted until the coffee was gone. Emery told stories about the girls growing up, and how much he enjoyed playing with them as children. Once his mug was empty, Mike excused himself and went outside for some fresh air.
It was warmer today than it had been all week. The snow was like slush near the grove of trees that had burned down the other night. What few trees still stood were ashen specters with skeletal limbs that reached for the sky. Mike wondered how long it would take for them to grow back.
He found Dana out in the barn with the hood of the jeep up. She had found an old radio and was blasting some hits from the '80's while giving the car a tune-up (at least, that was his assumption). Wearing a white tank top that barely covered her midriff, it rode up and revealed the tattoo of gears at the base of her spine every time she leaned into the car.
"What's going on?" he asked.
Dana backed out of the car and regarded him with red-tinged eyes. He couldn't help but notice that her biceps looked more defined than before.
"Needed something to do." She set a ratchet on the edge of the car, then used a rag to wipe some grease off her fingers. "Wondered if this thing still ran. Might need it for tonight."
Mike nodded. He sincerely doubted that the jeep would be of any use in capturing the Jersey Devil, but he wasn't about to argue with her.
"Everything okay? Your eyes don't look so great."
Dana smirked, then leaned against the jeep with her arms crossed. "Funny that you ask. I'm okay, I think. Ever since the other day, I've felt more energized than I usually do. Like I've downed a bunch of caffeine or something. Senses are heightened even more than usual. I feel kind of like I do right after feedings, only it isn't fading like it usually does."
Uh oh. He thought about the weird electrical storm he had summoned, and then subsequently poured into Dana. Had he changed her? He could only hope it was for the better.
He offered his help, but she declined. They both knew there was little he could do to contribute, but he wanted to be polite.
Outside the barn, he found some good handholds and climbed up to the roof, where Abella waited.
Her eyes were closed, a thin smile on her lips as she soaked up the sunlight.
"What brings you to my neck of the woods?" She grinned at her own joke.
"I came to check on you, actually." He walked across the roof, wondering how it was even strong enough to hold her. Looking down, he noticed that she had left several gouges in the roof with her talons, most likely from walking across it.
She opened her eyes and looked at her wing with a frown.
"I'm fine," she said, but he just shook his head.
"You aren't." He stopped in front of her and ran his hands along her cracked wing. The dark lines were flecked with stone that glistened in the light.
"It doesn't hurt," she reassured him. "It will heal. Eventually."
He frowned. "Even your body can only take so much punishment," he said.
"And since it is my body, it is my choice." She folded her wings around her. "I do not wish to talk about it. One of my greatest fears is to lose the sky."
"Then let's do everything in our power to avoid that." He examined her face, then brushed a lock of hair away from her brow. "So you can breathe fire..."
She shrugged. "Not that it's a big deal, but yes. It is called heartfire. By my former clan, anyway. I'm not very good at it and lost control."
"Is that why you've never used it before?" He had seen her in more than a couple of fights where it would have come in handy.
"Heartfire is different for every one of my kind. I have a powerful flame, but a tiny body, so it's difficult to control." She put her hands on her hips. "It also uses a tremendous amount of energy. If used too much, I can fall into hibernation until the sun's light awakens me once again."
"Like when we first met?" She had been tucked in a shadowed alcove and covered with Mandragora vines, the plant siphoning away her energy. "You were asleep."
"My people get our energy from many places." Her dark eyes sparkled, and she glanced down at his crotch. "But you know this already."
He laughed, then looked out into the forest. It felt as though he was being watched, but in a non-threatening way. Was it the trees?
"I was thinking about taking a walk. Would you like to come with me?"
She nodded. "I will follow you from above."
"Nah, not like that. Come see the forest with me."
Her cheeks darkened, and she licked her lips. "I would like this."
"C'mon, let's go." He walked to the edge of the barn and was grabbed from behind. The roof disappeared from beneath his feet as Abella glided through the air and then landed roughly near the tree line. He stumbled a few feet before regaining his balance.
"That hurt more than I thought it would," she explained, rubbing at her wing joint. "Sorry, I thought I could carry you."
"As long as you're okay." He held out a hand, and she took it with a smile.
The trails around the cabin were covered in thin snow that did little to slow Mike down. Every step Abella took made a crunching sound, her toes spreading apart to leave wide tracks. Her tail swished in a serpentine pattern, which left a smooth furrow behind them. If they somehow got lost, someone would easily be able to find them.
He didn't worry about losing his way. Even with the cabin still close by, he could feel it. His magic shifted inside him, like a magical compass that always pointed the direction home.
Abella told him stories from centuries past, and he shared a few tales from when he was younger, mostly camping while in the Boy Scouts and college. She hung on every word, and he noticed that her wings would make a rippling noise when she laughed, like a tarp in the wind.
They skirted the area of the forest that had burned. He couldn't help but notice that the subconscious hum that hovered around him all the time dimmed when they passed through the scorched areas. It was as if he had been disconnected from the woods, a sensation that left him feeling hollow inside.
Abella noticed this, her eyes dropping to the ground.
"I couldn't control myself," she explained, but he stopped her by putting his arm around her shoulders.
"I always knew you were hot," he joked. "Guess we now have proof, eh?"
She elbowed him in jest, a casual act on her part that knocked the wind from his lungs. He coughed and took a moment to compose himself.
"It's just that I had no idea you could breathe fire," he told her with a wheeze. "Is it difficult?"
"It depends. Some of my kind couldn't even light a candle, but their strengths lay elsewhere. I could boil away a small pond if I could control it."
"Why not practice, then?" He put his hand on hers and squeezed to reassure her that he was just curious.
"Heartfire doesn't just burn things. It also changes you." She explored her forehead with her free hand, then let out a sigh. "If I were to practice, my outer appearance would eventually change. Perhaps I would grow horns, or my face would deform. I like my body the way it is, much more human than monster."
"Is that why your kind can look so different from one other? Do you all look the same when you're born, and then change, or...?"
She chuckled. "When we hatch, we vary wildly in appearance. However, the use of heartfire always results in a more fearsome visage. My flames are so strong that I fear what I could become."
"I see. Fire breath that could change the appearance of the user. Interesting." Mike stroked his chin thoughtfully.
They moved away from the scorched clearing and toward one of the nearby hills. Eventually, they found themselves in the rocks that surrounded the hot springs. All around him, he could hear the mutterings of the forest, with the occasional chatter of the spiders.
"Something on your mind?" Abella asked. "You're distracted."
He didn't even know where to begin. Sensing the forest was likely related to his interlude with Amymone before coming here, and he definitely didn't want to bring up the spiders. Struggling to come up with an answer for her, he thought about his discussion with Emery.
"You've been at the house a long time. Did you ever sense that it was alive?" he asked.
"Hmm. Interesting question." She paused, her tail crunching against some rocks through the thin layer of snow. "I guess it depends on what you mean. Ever since you came, I would argue that it feels more alive than ever."
"I don't mean in a metaphorical sense. I mean that it's sentient." He explained how he sometimes spoke with the house while wearing its body, and then went ahead and told her about the dream from the previous night. When he finished, Abella regarded him with glittering eyes.
"You know, my kind used to talk about the Earth Mother," she said. "This planet is a giant rock that hurtles through space with a molten core. In this way, she is not so different from our kind. I wouldn't say we were a religious people, but my mother was fond of saying 'if the Earth Mother wills it' when making important decisions."
"Do you think the planet is alive?" Suddenly curious, he found a nearby rock and sat down.
"Life isn't something we can so casually define," she answered. "I would argue that she lives, in her own way. But could you talk to her? Perhaps not."
"The forest is alive. I can hear it, right on the edge of my thoughts." Even now, it was like voices being carried across the wind.
"Is it the noise that bothers you?" Abella laughed. "I hear everything. It can be very obnoxious."
Mike nodded. "It's like hearing pieces of a conversation. I want to know more, but the words just aren't there. And I don't like the idea that the cabin and the house are alive, but won't just talk to me like this. It's always on their terms, and often in riddles."
"Maybe it's no different than listening to the forest. Maybe when you speak, they don't always hear you." She looked around at the trees. "I bet you can't understand the woods because they aren't fully awake yet."
Realization blossomed through him. Was that the key to finding out more about the house and the great game? As the house expanded, so had his interactions with it. Did he need to do more for the house to notice him?
