Chapter 13
Marki and Sookie collapsed in a heap in grand foyer of the Fae Palace. Marki's chest heaved with the effort it had taken to create a new rip between dimensions, and their charge slid through their arms onto the shining white floor. The spear through her abdomen kept Sookie from lying flat; the pointed metal tip scraped across the pristine marble like a single sharp nail on a chalkboard. Someone gasped. A dark red pool expanded like India Ink on rice paper, and Sookie went into shock. Blonde locks and small limbs wrapped in armor jangled as her body jerked and flailed as if electrocuted. Sookie's purple lips were warped into a silent scream.
"Help! Help us, please!" Marki's voice echoed against the tallest crystal branches in the chamber. Every movement of the spear was tearing the princess's flesh apart. Guards and medics came running. Bystanders looked on, aghast.
The Viking's War Cry echoed through the sky and reverberated deep into the earth. Amelia's protective bubble danced over his skin.
Eric's heavy feet tread an angry track through the old headstones of Bon Temps Cemetery. He swung his sword at a nearby tree for perhaps the dozenth time. The old trunk had enough and groaned. It teetered and fell in a flutter of dry leaves and loamy moss. Massive branches snapped and splintered, scattering their detritus across the graveyard. Men jumped out of the way, and the already-anxious soldiers flinched before their wary eyes returned to the witch.
"You're not helping", Amelia snarled.
Eric's sword slashed in a whooshing arc and lodged again in the splintered stump. His growl of frustration rumbled through the hallowed grounds.
"Open the portal. Now."
The witch huffed. "What do you think I'm doing? Faerie magic doesn't come naturally to witches. Look at me!" Amelia caught his attention and gestured at her attire of cargo shorts and an oversized Misfits T-shirt. "Do I look like a damned fairy?!" She took his sideways glance as a rebuff until he spoke.
Eric closed his eyes. "This is not the first time I have walked in the sunlight, but it is the first time I am joined by my peers. Perhaps I have more faith in your power than you have in yourself."
Amelia was stunned. An odd sense of peaceful confidence came with his words, and she understood why her friend loved this vampire. She picked at the pockets of her shorts and gathered her thoughts.
"Witches are of the Earth, and our magic is tied to our world. Dirt and fire and water and air. Faerie is made of light. I need more light, Eric."
The big vampire turned and smiled, as if pleased that she had finally spoken his name. Her insides tingled.
A stern voice came through their earbuds, broadcast to everyone. It was Pam. "Do you want to do magic, Let? I'll show you how."
Pamela emerged from the house with Violet in her arms. The little girl was giggling.
"I want to do magic, Auntie Pammy!"
Pam brought Violet though the column of dirty and tired soldiers, jammies and all. Many tried to hide their wounds and smile at the small princess. Pam swung her in a dancing-circle to avoid the piles of dead bodies.
Violet saw a flourishing Peace-Lilly instead and giggled. "I like our garden, Auntie."
Pam swirled the child around until she was dizzy and unaware that they had entered a graveyard. Her daddy was nearby, and his expression was torn between wonder and fury.
"You need light. Violet IS light. Trust me", Pam implored. "Let her touch the rip."
"Daddy!" Eric nearly tore Violet from Pam's arms, but the child gave her father a stern look. "I want to stay with Auntie Pam, Daddy. We're going to do magic!"
Pam's eyes sizzled like hot coals, begging him- no, warning him – that this was the only way to get into Faerie. The only way to get Sookie back. Eric spared his child a grimace and gave his daughter an over-bright smile. He tapped his air pod to broadcast the exchange.
"Ok, sweetheart. Let's do some magic. But we should wait until the army gets here to see, right? Every. Single. Healthy. Soldier. It shouldn't take more than one minute." The grounds rumbled with the command as every able body grabbed their weapons and rushed into position. They arranged themselves in neat lines bearing all manner of weapons and in all states of cleanliness or lack thereof. Many were caked in blood and mud. Eric was pleased by the speedy response.
Amelia took a step forward. "Who would like to see Violet do some magic?" Her voice was bright, urging the weary crowd to respond in kind. They didn't disappoint. With whoops and shouts and hollers they cheered the little princess, and her smile lit up the field. Pam held her and Amelia guided her small hand to the shimmering veil.
"You can see it can't you? The air is different right here." Violet nodded at the witch. "Cut it, like this." Amelia mimed a karate chop in the air. Violet hesitated.
"It won't hurt, I promise", Pam said. "Our friend Marki has done it loads of times." Pam and Eric shared a sideways glance. Marki had disappeared with Sookie. Violet peeked back at the crowd and didn't want to keep them waiting. With a theatrical flourish, she sliced the blade of her hand through the fabric between dimensions. The air split like shimmering fluorescent vellum. The tattered edges undulated with every color of the rainbow. The crowd cheered.
Violet's cheeks turned pink at the praise. "See? I said you could do magic!" Pam bounced the child up for a kiss while her father looked on with pride. When the moment passed, Amelia took Violet away.
Pam and Eric stood together at the mouth of the rip. No one really knew what would happen if a vampire entered the Fae Realm because none had ever gone. They could be vaporized in an instant. Eric and Pam looked at each other. Maker and Child with centuries of love and trust and loss shared between them. Pam held out her hand, needing her Maker's guidance and reassuring touch for possibly the last time. She would follow him anywhere.
A rare smile touched Eric's eyes and he said without words all the things she needed to hear. She heard his voice as clearly in her head as if he has spoken aloud.
'I love you. I am proud of you.'
Pam blinked back a bloody tear. She straightened her spine. Her Maker wove his big fingers through her small ones and together they stepped into the unknown.
Niall paced the halls of the healing ward. The best Faerie physicians were performing surgery on Sookie, but the removal of the spear was proving tricky. She had lost a lot of blood. Too much blood. His physicians had been doing their best to collect the precious substance, but most of it was wasted on the floor. A priceless resource rendered useless.
Finally, a masked doctor splattered with red emerged with news.
"Prince Niall, we expect her to survive, but her blood is too weak to siphon. Even if we take all of the blood in her veins it will not be enough to foster the Faerie vaccine."
Stricken, Niall waved the doctors and nurses out of his way. White coats bowed before him and parted like the Red Sea.
The Fairy Prince found himself at Sookie's bedside. Even pale and bandaged, his granddaughter was beautiful. More importantly, she was powerful. Her naturally tanned skin glowed with a golden aura that was rare even in royal Faeries. Niall bent to touch her cold cheek. It sizzled under his fingertips.
Perhaps his plan had been folly after all. Perhaps leaving her with the humans was the best thing he could have done. Perhaps the future of the Fae was not isolation, but integration with the beings in the other dimension.
A shaft of late afternoon sunlight glinted across Sookie's motionless eyelashes. The bustle and beeps of the medical equipment echoed against the crystal walls. His heart ached for his granddaughter, but also for his people.
He must take one life to save millions. It must be done.
Niall stopped himself from kissing Sookie's temple, and squeezed her fingers instead. He said nothing. No words would suffice.
A blinding flash of light blinded them and a faint chiming of bells drifted through the air. The atmosphere was strange and mucky, thicker than that of Earth.
Pam relaxed her grip on Erics hand. They had traveled through the rip of bizarre twisting shapes and colors successfully. He glanced down at her face and searched her body for injury. Her wispy pale limbs seemed to be intact. The air swirled mysteriously around the face he knew as well as his own, but she didn't seem to be in peril. Pam was conducting a similar assessment of her maker, touching his face and arms. She squeezed his waist and biceps and wove her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.
"Thank Freyja", she whispered. Eric ran his hands down her mantle of her waving blonde hair. He brought her knuckles to his lips and kissed them.
"My Pamela." His voice was gravelly and full of gratitude.
A single red tear flooded Pam's eye and dropped down her porcelain cheek. She nodded her pretty head. "My Eric."
They parted to make way for the soldiers that followed.
Dense roiling clouds emerged on the horizon and moved inexorably across the sky like a heavy quilt. The sun set long before it naturally would as if frightened by the encroaching darkness. The foundations of the castle rumbled with thunder. The vibration jangled the bits and pieces of medical equipment in Sookie's suite. She sat up and gasped, clutching at the hole in her side. She struggled to rise and stumbled to the wall of windows in her jewelry box.
The dark, thick clouds rolled over the palace. Sookie had never seen anything like this in Faerie, where the weather was always perfect. Flashes of lightning sizzled in the atmosphere, brightening the grounds far below. She struggled to rise from her bed and hobbled to the windows.
An army of the eternal undead was marching on the castle. No, not just the dead. Sookie could see their auras even from this height, and the army was comprised of every race. Humans, vampires, weres, shifters, and even some Fae. At the front was…
Eric! Eric and Pam were marching hand in hand, though an unfamiliar world. They were sorely out of place. Here, their skin looked like gray paper mâché and their eyes glowed a menacing red. True villains.
Jason! Jason and Alcide were holding hands with their wives. The shifters and Wares appeared different as well. With yellow eyes and whiskers and ears, they seemed half transformed.
Only the humans appeared as they should, although dimmer. Like their lives were worth less because of their regularity.
The blurry wave of creatures below met a thin line of Fairies. Sookie didn't have to be a strategist to know who would win, no matter the turf. An ache opened in her heart for her people. Her fist hit the glass.
"Don't, Princess. You shouldn't stress yourself just yet." Sookie's wild eyes searched for the source of the familiar voice. Marki was hovering an arm's breadth away.
Sookie blanched. The wound in her side ached. "You. It was you!"
Marki flinched.
"Why?" Sookie's accusatory scream was raspy and full of venom.
Marki hung their head and curled their fingers in the inky curls hanging from their head. Torn.
"You don't understand yet. How could you understand? Eric must hate me."
Marki's musings were cut short. The double doors of the suite were kicked open with a boom, and soldiers filed inside. The muddy tracks of their boots on the crystal floor suggested they had been at the battle on Earth. They filed in in pairs that parted to form a passageway for Niall. He sauntered through the dirty men in his immaculate suit, smiling ear to ear.