Warning!
This chapter and subsequent chapters deal with possession, a subject that some people may find off-putting or unsettling. Proceed with caution.
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Bronx looked up from where he had been napping on the floor of Alex's bedroom and chuffed as he heard Fox rush in. Earlier in the evening, the gargoyle beast had followed her when she put Alex to bed, and had insisted on staying with the child as he slept—almost as if he sensed something was amiss. She knew the beast's loyalty and fondness for children and felt comforted by his added protection during the party, knowing it would rage on long past the toddler's bedtime.
Fox was unsure what was happening in the castle, and whether or not they were all in danger, but getting to Alex had become her singular focus. She didn't know how long the safety lights would stay on, so she had grabbed a flashlight from a stash of emergency supplies on her way to Alex's room. Standing at his doorway, she let its light sweep across the room as she stepped past the gargoyle beast and over to Alex's bed. Although anxious, she made sure her voice was gentle as she roused her sleepy son, speaking softly to him. "Alex, we're going to go play in the special playroom," she said as she brushed his fine, strawberry-blond hair from his face.
Alex stirred as his mother lifted him from his toddler bed, and he dragged his stuffed winged-teddy bear along with him. She hurriedly settled him onto her hip, but allowed herself a brief moment of wistfulness, noticing how big and heavy her 15-month-old son had grown.
Fox turned to leave when she heard Bronx emit a low, menacing growl. She grasped her son tightly and aimed her flashlight toward the doorway. The beam fell on a dark figure standing there, and she nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden appearance of an intruder.
"Who are you?" Fox demanded, clutching her child to her protectively. Alex was unusually quiet, but she wasn't sure if it was because he was still half asleep, or if he sensed, like she did, that the person before them was dangerous, and he should draw as little attention from them as possible.
The woman, if Fox could call her that, smiled wickedly at her, revealing slightly pointed canines that glinted in the harsh light of the flashlight and made her look all the more terrifying and inhuman. She held Brooklyn's missing blaster in one hand, and his rifle in another two. The fourth was empty and resting on her hip.
Four. She had four arms.
She was barely five-feet tall, even in her high-heeled, thigh-high boots the color of blood, which she wore over black leather leggings as glossy and iridescent as elytra. She wore a long tailed jacket made of a material so black that it absorbed every speck of light around it, and underneath it, a corset as fine and revealing as gossamer. The cloth was so delicate that it appeared to be spun from actual spider silk.
Her ears were elegantly pointed, and her raven black hair moved as if caught in a light breeze, despite the windlessness of the corridor in which they now stood. The glacial blue skin of her face and body was smooth and polished like marble, without any visible defect or flaw. She was stunning—utterly beautiful, in a stark, angular kind of way. But behind her beauty, as though emanating from within, there loomed a promise of death and destruction, a cold sharpness, like a blade made of glacial ice. She glared at Fox with eyes the color of dark amethyst.
"You know who I am," the woman replied, and her voice was cold, sharp, and deep. It had an ancient timbre to it. Not the old and weathered voice of a grandmother's, but something that harkened to a bygone era, like primeval forests, mountain bedrocks, and the deep, dark trenches of the ocean. Something powerful and unbreakable.
"Mab," Fox said in a terrified whisper.
"Queen Mab," the fae snapped. "The rightful ruler of Avalon and the third race, and if you wish for me to be merciful and spare your life, you will hand over the child and pledge your fealty to me here and now."
"It was you," Fox said, ignoring Mab's demand for her allegiance. "You tried to drown me the other night in my bathtub."
Fox had convinced herself that Lexington had been the one to attack her because she had felt four limbs holding her down and she thought she had mistaken two of them for the arms of his wings, but it had been Mab, without a doubt. She knew that now, and she felt sick to her stomach at the thought. Mab had been lurking around the castle this whole time.
Mab smiled at her, and it was harsh and remorseless.
"Give the child to me," Mab repeated, "or I will take him from your lifeless body."
"You will never have my child," Fox spat back defiantly.
She knew there were blasters hidden throughout the castle, one was just outside of Alex's room down the hall, behind a secret panel.
But how could she safely get past Mab to reach it?
Fox's powers were involuntary. She couldn't summon them at will, they only heeded her when she was under extreme emotional duress. She tried to dig deep and call them forth now, but she couldn't even muster a single spark or puff of air. She cursed under her breath at the fickle nature of her fae heritage.
Puck had said Mab was powerless. She could veil herself, hide herself from view and magical detection, and though that was a powerful skill, that was all she had. But unlike Fox, Mab was armed, and moreover, Fox was encumbered by a vulnerable child. A child she loved more than her own life, but who was still a liability in this moment.
Mab held the blaster up, aiming it at her, and Fox once more tried to call forth her magic. But then Bronx leapt forward, knocking Mab back. Fox took the chance and ran past Mab into the hallway. Like lightning, she hit the hidden panel and pulled out the blaster within. But before she could turn and fire, a different shot went off, and she heard a yelp. She whirled around, her blaster fully-charged and ready, looking for her target.
But her flashlight revealed only Bronx lying motionless on the floor. Mab was nowhere to be seen.
...
...
Lexington had left the party feeling downtrodden after talking to Goliath. With no one in the castle to talk to, to understand, he sought solace in the command center. Even though his laptop was destroyed, he could still use one of the other computers to communicate with Amp. He hoped Amp was around, but they hadn't made plans to talk online tonight, so he steeled himself for likely disappointment as he pinged the Londoner. To his surprise, Amp replied.
AMP: "Hey, mate."
TINMAN: "Hey, Amp."
Lexington chewed on the end of his talon. He hadn't broached the subject of going to London yet. He hadn't even told Amp of his true feelings. They'd been flirtatious, but that didn't particularly mean anything. Perhaps now was the time to make his feelings known.
AMP: "Didn't you have a fancy dress party tonight?"
TINMAN: "Yeah, but it's been kind of a dud."
AMP: "Sorry to hear that."
There was a lull in his response, and then Amp pinged him again.
AMP: "Are things still tense with your clan?"
TINMAN: "Yeah. They now seem to think I'm behind all the strange things that have been happening!"
AMP: "What? That's absurd! I couldn't even convince you to play a prank on Coco with me!"
TINMAN: "My brother even accused me of something terrible! Something I'd never do."
AMP: "If things are really that bad… You know, I've said it before, but you're always welcome here in London."
TINMAN: "About that, I've actually been thinking about visiting again."
AMP: "Really? That would be brilliant!"
Lexington felt giddy as a broad smile spread across his face.
TINMAN: "You mean that?"
AMP: "Yeah, I'd love to show you around some of my favorite places that I didn't get a chance to last time."
TINMAN: "That would be great!"
Lexington paused and took a deep breath. He felt nervous, but he had to take a chance, and with trembling talons, he began to type again.
TINMAN: "I still have to work out the particulars with my leader, it may not happen, but I hope so. I'd really like to go back to London… because I really like you. I think I have feelings for you."
Lex felt like he was about to be sick, he was so nervous, and he covered his head with his hands protectively, barely able to look at the screen. But before Amp had a chance to respond, the lights and power in the room turned off, along with his computer and connection to the internet.
"No!" Lex wailed.
Worse than being rejected was hanging in limbo waiting to be rejected. So he waited for the power or the generators to kick on. The power came back up shortly after, along with the internet. There wasn't a response waiting for him after he rebooted the computer, so he pinged Amp again, but before he could get a response the power went out a second time and didn't come back on. Lex swore and pounded the top of the computer desk in frustration. Then he buried his head in his hands and sulked, helplessly.
...
...
Hudson and Robbins were walking the halls of the castle together in search of Goliath, who they'd hoped would aid them in their quest to figure out what was wrong at the party, when the lights went out. Although Robbins lived in darkness all the time, he knew something was wrong. He confided in Hudson that it was too quiet. The background hum of heating ducts and electrical wiring were absent.
They made their way back toward the Great Hall using the dim safety lights spaced at intervals along the floor of the hallway as a guide, when they encountered Fox with a blaster in one hand, and a toddler on the opposite hip. A large mass lay motionless on the ground, and it took Hudson a moment to realize it was his faithful companion.
"What did you do to Bronx?" Hudson shouted as he knelt down beside the beast, placing his hands upon his body and searching for signs of life. Bronx responded to Hudson's touch and the sound of his voice, and looked up at him weakly, barely raising his head to do so. Hudson half-smiled with relief, choking back a few tears that had threatened to fall if the worst had happened.
"I didn't do anything! We were attacked by Mab while I was trying to get Alex to the safe room," Fox said. "She wants my son, and she's still out there somewhere, loose in the castle."
"Mab? As in Queen Mab?" Hudson asked, alarmed.
"Wait… like someone in costume as Queen Mab?" Robbins said.
"Nay, Robbins," Hudson said regretfully.
"More like Mab, my wicked fairy step-grandmother," Fox said, and then her voice turned reverent as she spoke of the gargoyle beast. "I didn't want to leave Bronx here on the floor like this… he protected us from Mab… but I can't stay. I need to get Alex to safety right now."
"We won't let her take the lad. Not while I'm still breathin' air," Hudson swore. Then he crooned softly to the beast. "Hey now, boy. Can ye get up fer me?"
Bronx whined and wagged his stubby tail lightly at Hudson. With great effort, he got up onto his feet, but he shook and swayed, threatening to collapse. It was clear he couldn't stand for long, let alone walk.
"Alright ye great beast," Hudson said, scooping Bronx up. The old gargoyle grunted as his knees creaked and his back ached and protested under the strain. He hefted Bronx's hulking mass up even higher before settling the beast into his arms. "Let's go, then."
...
...
Broadway and Angela had been aiding Dr. Sato in getting the injured guests out of the Great Hall and to the infirmary. They were carefully picking their way through the mess, using fallen tables and decor as cover to try and avoid the spirits. It was slow going, but they'd managed to get almost all of them to the infirmary where Dr. Sato was setting up a triage of sorts. They were just returning from the infirmary to sweep the Great Hall for any other injured guests, when a glowing orb rose up from the center of the room and hit Broadway square in the chest. but instead of going through him and knocking him back, it settled into him, curling up and taking root like a parasite. He staggered backwards from the impact and the internal battle he was fighting within.
"Broadway, are you alright," Angela said to her mate. She wasn't sure what had hit him, but noted the odd expression on his face. She felt a sharp spike of fear as she watched him stand, staring at his hands, clenching and unclenching his fists, utterly fascinated by the way they moved. Like he was marveling at the sensation.
"Broadway?" Angela whispered, terrified as he looked back at her with eyes that lacked warmth and tenderness. There was no love in his eyes for her.
And then another one of the spirits shot out from the center of the room like a glowing orb, and hit Angela with full force in the chest. She jolted and gasped as the spirit took possession of her. It was an eerily familiar sensation. One she had experienced before, but that time she had been willing. This time she fought against the spirit, trying to push it out, but she was overpowered by the spirit's wrath, its sorrow and animosity, and she was forced to retreat from her own body. Horrified, she watched from a shadowed corner of her mind as her body stood up against her will and walked out of the Great Hall, Broadway trailing silently after her.
...
...
Lexington emerged from the command center feeling more depressed than ever. His whole countenance drooped. He wanted to find his brothers, to talk to them, to pour out his heart and anguish to them, but he feared what they would think of him. Would they be repulsed? Besides, they were always too busy for him. Brooklyn was always with his family, and Broadway was always with Angela, and he just couldn't face any of their judgment. But he also didn't want to be alone. He always felt alone these days, so he left the command center and stepped out into the corridor in search of someone he could possibly talk to, and at the very least share space with someone who was living and breathing, but something at the other end of the hall moved quickly toward him.
"What the hell?" Lex yelped as he leapt backwards into the command center to avoid whatever was rapidly approaching.
The glowing and translucent form of a gargoyle drifted past him. He could only stare in horror as an apparition with a shocking resemblance to one of his rookery mothers floated past. She was trailed by a bunch of hatchlings around the biological age of eight.
Lexington clutched at his chest where his heart was hammering wildly. An old wound that had never fully healed, cracked wide open.
"This can't be happening," he cried.
But he had recognized every one of those faces.
Little faces that had been shattered by a viking's mace over a thousand years ago.
After the spirits had passed, he waited a moment as he collected himself before following them down the corridor. They seemed to be moving toward an area with purpose, in the direction of the Great Hall, if he had to guess. He wondered if he was the only one who could see them or if he was losing his mind. Would anyone believe him if he told them what he saw?
He didn't know what was happening, what he was witnessing exactly, but he had to find out. If he followed them, maybe he could prove he wasn't to be blamed for all of the bad things that had been happening.
He watched warily as the ghosts floated down the hall towards an unknown purpose, and silently followed behind.
...
...
"Thank you, Hudson," Fox said as they reached the safe room in Xanatos's office.
"Get the lad inside and keep him safe," Hudson said gruffly. There was no need for thanks in his opinion, as protecting came naturally to gargoyles. It was their nature. You didn't thank a bird for flying, or a fish for swimming.
Hudson then turned to his friend.
"With a fae queen loose in the castle, I fear fer yer safety, my friend. I think ye should stay here, in the safe room with Fox and Alex," he said to his Robbins.
Fox nodded in agreement.
"You're welcome to stay with us," she said as she entered the code on the door that opened it.
"I'll stay, but Hudson… I'm going to need a really good explanation for all of this," Robbins said.
"Aye, my friend. I've told ye many truths, but now the whole of it. I'll tell it all to ye when it's safe," Hudson replied.
Fox stepped into the safe room with Alex, and Robbins reluctantly went with her. He was an old soldier himself, like Hudson, but he knew he was useless in this fight and probably a liability.
"Do ye mind keeping Bronx as well?" Hudson asked, looking at Fox. "I think he will be safer here, too."
"He saved Alex, of course he's welcome," Fox replied, and Hudson crossed the threshold to settle Bronx gently in a back corner.
Before he left, Fox extended her flashlight out to him. "You may need it," she said.
"I may be blind in one eye, but I can still see fine in the dark," Hudson argued.
"Just take it," Fox insisted.
Hudson begrudgingly took the flashlight and left to find the rest of his clan.
Once everyone was safely inside, Fox sealed the door, shutting off the control panel on the outside so that the door could only be opened from within.
The small room had enough food and water for several days, as well as a bathroom and a computer that was linked to a satellite instead of an internet system. If Fox needed to contact the world outside, she could.
She settled Alex onto one of the cots, and he looked up at her silently as he clutched his winged teddy bear. Even though he was starting to speak more and more, he had been so quiet through everything, and that unsettled Fox.
"We'll wait to get the all clear from Daddy," she said to him as she smoothed a lock of hair out of his face.
She would prefer to be out looking for Mab, to take her down herself, but couldn't leave her son here all alone. She sighed with frustration. Being a mother was harder than she thought it would be. Everything took more time and effort. Especially since she and David didn't rely on nannies. How could they? He was a part-fae child who exhibited exceptional magical abilities. Owen was an immense help, of course. When he was around. She begrudged him for disappearing shortly after the lights went out the first time, and never returning. She knew her husband was worried about that. But it was the fear and anxiety that came with being a mother that was the hardest. Having a child was like watching her heart walk around outside of her body, which often was in conflict with her independent, self-serving nature.
So, instead of going out in search of Mab herself, like she wanted, Fox remained in the safe room with her son, a blind man, and an injured gargoyle beast. Mab was right, though. She would have to take him from her lifeless corpse because she would be dead before she ever let anyone touch a single hair on his little head. Resolved to do anything she must, she readjusted the strap of the blaster rifle on her shoulder, and stood ready.