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“I’m so sorry I couldn’t get here before now. What’s…” His voice drifted off as he took in the situation. “Fucking hell. What do you need?”
Iris cocked her head. “Even better. Morio, I need you to strengthen Camille’s Moon Magic. Camille, I need you to call down the storm in a way you’ve never called it before. We need a gusher. It won’t snuff out their fire, but it will make it harder for them to navigate. Morio, feed her as much energy as you can. Bran? You and Menolly go tempt two of the Fae with wood or whatever you can scrounge up. Use it like a carrot to keep them occupied. Delilah, you and Shade do the same to two of the others. I’ll take care of the one in the middle first. Go. Now.”
And with that, she ordered us into position. Bran and I gathered up armfuls of wood, as did Delilah and Shade, and we spread out, each targeting two of the Fae. If Iris could work on one at a time, it would be safer.
Camille knelt down on the pavement in front of Morio, facing the sky, arms out and head thrown back. He placed his arms on her shoulders and the thick thread of magic that bound them began to weave its way through the night. Like a snake, sinuous and ancient, it coiled around them, the serpent of power, the raw force of the night and of the Moon Mother. Camille needed to make this work, to not have it backfire, because with the Fyrun Fae running around, gods knew what a backlash spell might do.
She began whispering some chant as the energy rode down through Morio, jumping her shoulders, infusing her with the essence and life of the Moon Mother. They worked their powers together, blending them like fine scotch.
As the winds picked up, the sky began to boil and clouds danced in a frenzied swirl. With a crack, lightning split through the night, thunder echoing in its wake. A hail of bullets hit us—rain pounding so hard, so thick and fast, that the wind drove it sideways like stinging pellets. Harsh and wild, it slashed against us, blades of water, and the clouds blotted out any sign of stars or moon that might be peeking through. The only light we had was from the dim streetlamps.
The Fyrun Fae looked confused. They paused, staring up into the sky as if to ascertain from where their attacker was coming. Bran and I moved into position, taunting two of them with long pieces of wood. One raised her finger, pointing at us, and it looked almost as though she was sniffing the air. The other followed her gesture and they began to head our way. On the other side of the Utopia, Delilah and Shade were doing the same.
I glanced over to Iris. She stood there alone, having waved Chase out of the way. Worried, I wanted to run to her, but then I saw it clearly—the outline of energy that surrounded her. Her aura radiated pale blue streaks, infused with the purples and pinks that shadowed glaciers under the aurora-filled sky.
She held up her wand, pointing it at one of the creatures, and in a voice as faint and chiming as bells on the wind, she sang out some incantation in Finnish. I couldn’t understand what it meant, but I could feel the intent.
Within a split second, the Fyrun noticed her and began to run toward her, the slow cautious pace abandoned in a fierce sprint. But Iris pointed her wand and a pale beam of snow and frost burst forth, shooting like a hail of ice pellets, a veil of mist. As it hit the Fyrun woman, we heard a loud sizzle, then a shriek, and like a blow dryer dropped in the bathtub, the creature began to spark, convulsing as the frost laceworked its way over her like a spiderweb. A moment later, the flames flared through the webbing of frost, then exploded. The sparks flickered brightly, then vanished into the night.
I didn’t have time to understand what Iris had managed to do, but the Fyrun Fae had noticed what was going on and they were headed toward her in a fury. Delilah’s two were also turning, ready to aim themselves at our house sprite.
“Fuck, we have to keep them from overwhelming her!” I stared toward one of them but Bran pushed me back.
“Fire can ignite you like dry tinder. Toss that piece of wood to the side. They’ll have to go after it, and it won’t offer much in the way of fuel.” He headed toward the one he’d been taunting.>Fuck. I’d hoped maybe we could put out their flames. I turned to Camille and Delilah, who were watching the progression of our opponents.
“What the hell now?” Delilah shook her head. “Can you call Smoky?”
“I can send out a sense of distress but it would take too long. No, we need Iris, and we need her now. She’s the only one who can work ice magic besides Smoky. And I think ice magic is the only thing that will counter flame.” Camille grimaced, but the look she gave me told me she, too, knew it was our only option.
“Can she do this? So soon after having her babies?” Delilah sounded like she was choking on a hairball.
“She’ll have to. Because if those things get loose in the street, do you have any clue of what damage they could do?” I turned to Shade. “You can’t bring her via the Ionyc Seas, can you? Not with her nursing and being alive?”
Shade could easily carry the dead—including the undead like me—through the Ionyc Seas. They were vast currents of energy, oceans that connected all planes. But because he was from the Netherworld, he wasn’t easily able to safely ferry the living. They usually ended up sick.
“No, I can’t. And neither can Vanzir. But I’ll have him get her here ASAP.” And with that, the half–shadow dragon vanished.
Meanwhile, we had to somehow corral these creatures until she could get here. They’d be out of the building in minutes. I turned to the others, feeling unusually helpless. At that point, Bran sauntered forward.
“I know what they are,” he said, leaning against the nearest car. “I also know that without a sorcerer or witch who can work ice magic, you’re sunk.”
I wanted to smack him and ask him why he hadn’t spoken up earlier, but then again, we’d all been beating a retreat. “What are they?”
“Fyrun Fae. The Fiery Ones. They usually stick to warmer climes, near volcanoes mostly, but they also can enter through bonfires, house fires, or…” He motioned to the Utopia. “Through fires like that one. And ten to one, they were summoned via rune work planted on the walls before the arsonist torched the building. Probably an added little bonus in terms of causing confusion. Fire bugs tend to be more than a little anarchistic.”
It was one of the longest speeches I’d heard out of him, and even with that smirk on his face, the concern was evident in his eyes. He knew we were dealing with someone dangerous, and perhaps over the edge toward the loony bin.
“Daemons. Can daemons summon Fyrun Fae?”
He nodded. “Some can.”
“Ten to one they were in the Wayfarer, too.” I wondered just how we could find out if I was right, but then pushed the thought aside. Right now we needed to take care of our present unwelcome guests before I went hunting through the ruins of my bar.
Shade reappeared then. “Iris is on her way. Bruce’s driver is bringing her. I didn’t want to leave the house unguarded, so Vanzir is still there.”
“Fall back! Fall back!” The firemen stumbled back out of the building, running to the sides.
They were still carrying the hoses, but in another moment, a rumble echoed into a freight train as there was an explosion by the entrance of the building. Flaming shrapnel—wood and debris—went flying as everyone dove for the nearest cover.
