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Sunday, June 7, thirty-eight days after prom.
I am suddenly ripped away from Zoe, sleep forgotten. My body lands hard on the paved ground. For a moment, everything is spinning in my mind. My friends are still here, and two newcomers are in our group.
Sidelle has returned from Fairyland, and she brought, who I assume was her father, and a woman. The King of Summer towers over everyone. His presence is foreboding. His dark brown eyes tell another story, one of sadness and love. His companion is swathed in old power.
She, the beautiful lady, stands regal, as if nothing could penetrate her cold exterior. Blue glamour radiates from her and seeps deep into my wings. Her features are stark. Anger hovers behind her raging blue eyes, and her stance screams danger. I can only presume that she is the Winter Queen.
And now we are traveling with them. I catch the end of Oberon’s display of power. The blast that sunk into my soul will haunt me forever. He has fixed the earth of its sorrows.
Nephilims are created by both earth and Heaven. We straddle both lines of existence. I wonder if he feels what I felt. It’s like hearing a mother’s wail of a lost child and the years of mourning that follows.
The earth knows that Oberon is sending his magic to heal her. She thinks she is too far gone to be helped. But he insists and then she relents.
The king opens a porta, and we all walk through, back to the remote deserts of Las Vegas.
“Let’s make this quick, so we can be on our way to Texas and go north,” Oberon instructs. “Mab, please give me your hands.” She hesitates but does as he requests.
They face each other and lock their palms together. Their powers meld. We step back and give them space, since we don’t want to be blasted with the force of the healing glamour. Both chant in a foreign language. Hers is harsh with forced breaks. His is fluid and sing-songy.
In a matter of seconds, the cracked dessert floor folds back together. Small pools of water soak into the ground. The fierce winds cease to blow. Some of the cacti stand tall again.
And we’re back stepping through another porta. Our party doesn’t say anything. We watch in silence and let them work, so we can be done with this and head off the Marqs.
They do the same along the southern coast, pushing back the waves smashing against the shoreline. All the sea life that lay dead on the sand are gone. The royal powers dry the heavy rains and the dark clouds lift. Rays from the sun dot the buildings with hope.
Everything is as it was before.
Oberon opens another porta, and we step through it. The land is lush green, trees full of new leaves block the sun’s light, and birds flutter in the sky. Evil has not marred this pristine land—yet. We stand in a field of tall grasses. Somewhere close is a stream or brook, but I’ve seen enough water to last me a while.
“Are you sure about this place?” I ask. “It doesn’t appear that anything is wrong. The animals wouldn’t be out in the open like this if there were. They usually know the first sign of trouble coming.”
A herd of deer watch us with curious eyes. Their ears flicker, alert for any foreign sounds.
“They’re here,” Mab says. “I can feel them.”
“So can I,” Oberon agrees. “Be watchful and ready for anything.”
An eerie tranquility crawls over the field. Mist weaves between the tall stalks of grass. The birds silence their songs of freedom. Leaping for safety, the deer leave us alone with our thoughts. The wind stills.
The temperature plummets. Frost forms along the boughs. And the mist rises, blanketing us in gray.
Dark figures emerge from the ground. It’s like zombies rising from the dead. I guess in a way they truly are. Demons were something before they became the evil beings they are now.
Shadows hide their flowing bodies. With their hoods drawn up, I can’t see their black holes where their eyes should be. They hover above the ground, encircling us.
“We meet again,” a Knight shouts. A small group crouches in the distance. “We were wondering when our paths would cross.”
“Your fate was sealed when you marched into my territory and slaughtered my subjects,” Mab screams back.
“Oh, was that your land? We heard about that incident. Too bad I wasn’t there to witness all that death.”
“Don’t worry. I saved my strength for you and your kind.” Mab stalks forward a few steps. “None of you will be leaving this field. And your Marq friends will never return.”
She raises her arms high into the air as blue glamour shoots out from her palms, flying directly into the awaiting Knights.
They scatter like gnats and charge us.
We spread out, so we don’t accidently hit each other.
Kieran is on my left and Sidelle to my right. Vash instantly changes into his wolf form and charges into a group of Marqs.
Oberon fires his green magic from behind me and barely misses my head. I shoot a glare in his direction. He ignores me.
Mab, who is positioned in front of us, throws a flurry of three-inch long ice daggers. They zip as fast as an arrow and find their marks. A few Knights fall but more advance from the tree line.
The ground shifts. The rest of us use our wings and hover. Vash is the only one who is grounded, but he’s light on his paws and easily maneuvers on the uneven terrain.
An orb encases Oberon, pulsing to the motion of his hands. With fire raging behind his eyes, his power is gathering. The circle grows larger and larger with each beat.
I step out of his boundary. I have no idea what he’s about to unleash.
Sidelle uproots trees, swinging them behind the Knights and catching a few off guard. She looks to her father and nods. Mimicking his stance, she, too, creates a sphere around her. And as her magic gathers and pulses, it matches Oberon’s.
Kieran spins high into the sky and pours his Light onto the field. Bright light cuts through the mist.
Marqs close the distance between us, leaving Vash to battle them.
“Kieran,” I shout. “Clear a path for me through the Marqs, so I can get to the other side and help Vash.”
A stream of golden Light flares and shines on the outer edge of the forest. With my Nephilim Sword extended, I forge my way through, cutting and slicing anything in my path until a Marq stops me. It smashes its arm across my chest, sending me flying backwards.
Two more advance on me. I won’t be able to break their defenses. But I’m not going down without a fight. With renewed strength, I swing my sword to the demon on the right. Using my legs, I kick the other back. But my leg goes right through its body, throwing me off balance. I tumble onto my knees. Before I can spring back to my feet, a forcefield goes through me.
Turning my head, Oberon and Sidelle have unleashed their combined power. My chest aches slightly, but that’s nothing compared to how the field looks now. All three fairies are standing in a crater the size of a couple of football fields. The ground is partially frozen, and the other part is dead brown.
The remaining Knights are clutching their own chests and dropping one by one.
I shake my head, clearing my daze and sprint toward Vash. His breathing is labored, and a red gash oozes blood on his shoulder. One of his ears is bent at an odd angle.
“You okay?” I ask him.
He nods.
“Man, what was that? I think someone trampled my sternum.” I place a hand over my heart. “We can’t rest too long; there are still Marqs all over the field. But at least whatever the fairies did, it wiped out the Knights. You go, and I’ll take care of their bodies.”
Vash nods and sprints back into the fray.
I check each Knight to make sure they are good and dead by slicing my blade across their necks. Within a matter of seconds, their bodies evaporate and return to Hell.
When no more Knights litter the ground, I also return to the battle against the Marqs.
Light blasts from all directions in a swirl of green, gold, and blue. Vash’s brown form darts in between the Marqs and takes down as many as he can. His enormous paws swipe at their black cloaks. Black demon blood drips from his claws and lands on the grass. Vash’s coat is drenched in red and black swirls.
The ice queen is encased in a blue sphere and continues to volley ice spears at the Marqs. Blue sparkling lights outlines their flowing capes. Old magic gnaws at them, dissolving tiny patches of them. With enough magic, her targets begin to fade.
King Oberon uses the same tactic, but with his combined energy and that of his daughter’s, they crush their victims faster.
Kieran still hovers above, shining his Light into clusters, and Vash takes them down, one by one.
By the time I’m across the field, the battle is over.