Shattered: An Otherworld Short Story

[yasminegalenorn]

SHATTERED

An Otherworld Short Story

Yasmine Galenorn

copyright 2012

I wrote this short story as a look at what happened the first night Menolly was turned.

 
 “I can’t believe she’s never coming back.” Delilah was curled up on the bed, her face streaked with tears. Her long golden hair hung down her back, stringy and unwashed, and her tunic and trousers were dark with grass and mud stains. She’d been gone all day, and I had the feeling she’d spent the time out in the autumn woods, trying to come to peace with the fact that our sister, Menolly, was dead.

Not knowing how to comfort her, I set down the basket of laundry that Tres had taken off the lines. Moving over to Kitten’s side, I snuggled next to her and wrapped my arms around her tall, lean figure. She rested her head on my shoulder and burst into tears again. As she wept, the pain in my own heart begged for release, but I had to hold it together. My father, my sister…they needed me now. I couldn’t afford the luxury of indulging my own feelings of loss.

“Camille, I don’t think I can handle any more heartache. How are we going to get through this? How will Father manage? He’s still mourning for Mother. Now…”

Delilah’s whispered words hung heavy in the air. I stroked her hair back away from her face, wanting to bundle her into my arms and carry her away from the pain, but I couldn’t. There was nothing I could do to make it better. My sister believed in good, believed in love. I hated seeing that vulnerability shatter in the wake of what we’d found at the family shrine earlier in the day.

“It will be okay. Everything will be okay.” My lips mouthed the words, though I didn’t really believe them. Nothing would ever be okay again. Our family was broken, and there was no way we could ever put it back together.

Before he left for the night shift at the palace, Father had gone out to the sanctuary to pray, to beg the gods to send Menolly home. She’d been missing for two days, and the Otherworld Intelligence Agency wouldn’t tell us a word, even though both Delilah and I worked for them, and Father was a warrior in the Guard Des’Estar.

In the shrine, he’d found her soul statue. Shattered. Which meant she was dead. We knew now that she wouldn’t be coming home again. She was gone and I blamed the OIA. They’d sent her to spy on a nest of vampires, alone, without backup, even though for the past few weeks she’d been begging them to assign her help. And now, something had gone horribly wrong, and she was dead. I wanted revenge on the freaks who had given her the job. But those freaks included my boss—and Delilah’s boss—and there was nothing we could do.

After a moment, I gently pushed Delilah back, holding her by the shoulders. “Sweetie, listen to me. We survived Mother’s death. It wasn’t easy, but we did. We’ll get through this. You and I, and Father too. We’ll manage.”

“How?”

Frustrated, I snapped. “I don’t know how!”

She cringed, and I moderated my voice. Getting irritated wouldn’t help anything.

“We will. I promise. I’ll make sure we’re okay. I’m your big sister and I’ve never lied to you, have I?” Not the truth, but she didn’t have to know that. At her nod, I continued, “Now, I know you hate baths, but I want you to go clean up. Then, you and I will take a walk over to Rubi te Vanis’s shop, and we’ll buy some of her fresh made stew and biscuits for supper. You love her stew, remember?”

Delilah made a stab at drying her eyes and nodded, putting herself in my hands like she always did. “All right. But…I’m not hungry.”

“You will be. While you’re cleaning up, I’ll finish a couple chores. I’ll feed Trevor and Harlis for you. Would you like that?”

Delilah had recently dragged home a couple of rabbits and stuck them in her menagerie out back. They were cute but I knew that soon enough, Delilah would be out looking for somebody else to add to her collection. She brought home stray animals like I brought home boyfriends.

She nodded again. “Thanks. I love you, Camille.” She pushed herself off the bed and began to strip. “I just can’t believe Menolly’s…”

“Neither can I,” I said softly. “I don’t even want to think about it. You clean up and I’ll be back in awhile.”

Downstairs, I stopped Tres—our laundress—to ask her if she’d mind starting hot water for Delilah’s bath. Tres was a good sort—though I doubted she’d last long. Our housekeeper Leethe, kept exacting standards for anybody employed in our home. Kayla, the main cook, did a good job, but I was the one who oversaw the kitchen. Leethe supervised the rest of the staff.

“Yes Miss.” Tres curtseyed and hurried off to start heating the water.

No matter how much I tried to stop them, all the staff curtseyed and bowed. Father was constantly bitching at me about it, but the fact was, having people bow to me made me uncomfortable. They never listened, though, so I was ready to chalk it up to a lost cause. I watched Tres leave the room, then made my way to the sheds out back.

Evening was coming on quickly, and it would soon be dark. My stomach rumbled as I shoved some greens into the cages for the rabbits and made sure everybody else in Delilah’s manger had food. One of the hired hands would take care of the livestock, but when it came to the pets, we were on our own.

After I finished feeding the rabbits, taking a few moments to scratch their fuzzy heads, I wound my way down the path to our family shrine. I had to see for myself. I didn’t really want to see the broken remnants that had signified Menolly’s life, but now that Father was gone for the day, I had to prove to myself that what he’d said was true. To accept the reality that Menolly wasn’t coming home.

Everyone in our branch of the Fae race in Otherworld had a soul statue. Born into our race or adopted in, it didn’t matter. And as long as we lived, the statue would stand strong in each family’s shrine. But on the day we died, the figurine shattered. Once in a great while, a mistake happened, but they were few and far between.

I’d been the one to see Mother’s statue fall. Even though Maria was human, when Father married her and brought her home to Otherworld the family soothsayer had fashioned a statue for her and linked it to her soul.

Memories from the day Mother died were still vivid in my mind. She’d gone out horseback riding with Aunt Olanda and Aunt Rythwar. I’d been very young, and I’d been in the shrine, playing. I wasn’t supposed to be there without an adult, but I figured that what Mother and Father didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt them. Fascinated by the statues, I stood there, musing over them. And then, Mother’s statue crumbled into pieces, right before my eyes. I knew what it meant, and right then, my life changed forever.

I’d taken a deep breath, decided that it was now my job to take care of my sisters, and then I went in the house to find Father.

Shaking the memories away, I followed the path to the shrine. The haunted moon glowed overhead, the Moon Mother hanging in a golden crescent, a halo around her. The evening sky was quickly fading to blessed indigo. 

The chill night air whistled around me and I shivered. Harvest Home was coming up—Samhain was almost here—and the leaves had turned color and were falling off the trees. The last of the crops had been gathered in from the wide fields that surrounded Y’Elestrial, and the slaughtering of livestock was taking place as the city-state geared for the coming winter. A melancholy feel guarded the night, the tang of autumn and the smell of bonfires filling the air.

I brushed my hand along the railing that paralleled the stepping stones of the path. The wood was smooth, with no sign of splinter or roughness. Pausing, I leaned on the railing and looked up at my glorious Lady, shining her light down through the evening sky.

Unbidden, the words to one of  Menolly’s favorite songs rippled out of my throat, and I found myself weeping as I sang.

            “Leave me to my days, leave me to the sun,
            Leave my heart alone. Freedom runs. Oh, how I run.
            Tell me all your dreams, let me hear your secret wishes,
            Brush your hair, touch your face, give you quiet kisses.
            Don’t ask me where I’ve been, I’ve been gone so long,
            My love, it kept me going. Now everything’s gone wrong…”

Finally alone, the tears flowed freely. I dissolved into them, choking over the knot in my throat. I’d accepted that I had to be strong for Delilah and Menolly when our mother died and I’d pushed aside my grief in order to shoulder their needs and sorrow. But this…Menolly was my little sister and the realization that I’d never see her again ripped open the long buried wound. As I cried for her, I cried for my mother.

As the tears slowed, I dashed at my face with my sleeve. Time to get this over with, and then go back to the house and pick up the pieces and keep the family going.

I pushed the overgrown brambles away from the door of the marble building. The shrine was beautiful, but the brambles and ivy had overtaken it. Whenever my sisters and I came to honor our mother’s spirit, we forged our way through bracken and branch. Father had ordered the groundskeeper to leave it alone. I knew he thought that by hiding the shrine, he could hide from the memory of the past. Mother’s loss had never left him. He seldom visited the shrine anymore, but today he had out of desperation and fear.

I glanced up at the stars glimmering into sight, my breath puffing in little clouds. Trillian would be waiting for me at the club but tonight, I wouldn’t show up, and he knew enough not to come to the house to find out why. My family knew I was dating someone. Father suspected he was a Svartan, and refused to allow him on the property. I’d been meaning to introduce Menolly and Delilah to Trillian later on this week. But now, that would never happen.

I bundled my pain into a knot, hard as glass, and thrust out my mind, seeking for the bond that connected my lover and me. We’d gone through a powerful ritual together, connecting us forever. As I sought out that link, my pain and loss barreled through the cord, and I felt him gasp and turn. I could see the brilliant blue of his eyes against his jet black skin, and knew he’d heard my call. Tears trickled down his cheeks.

“Whenever you need me…” The words were faint—perhaps not really there at all—but I knew he’d sent the thought. I brushed his energy with mine, lingering, then turned back to the shrine.

Before heading in, I paused to light a candle and fix it into a holder. With one last glance at the moon, I ducked my head and entered the shrine. As I slowly approached the marble altar where our soul statues stood, something seemed amiss. There was no evidence of a broken statue. Perplexed, I looked around. Had Father cleaned it up? But no, he’d staggered into the kitchen, his face a mask of pain and loss. There was no way he’d have thought to stop and do that—and it wouldn’t make sense for him to.

But then…something caught my eye. I looked more closely. There were four statues standing there. Not three, but four. And one of them—Menolly’s—was twisted, almost demonic looking. A sharp pain knifed my chest.
What the fuck?

What had happened? Had someone glued it back together as a cruel joke? But even as the thought ran through my mind, I knew I was off base. Nobody had been in this shrine since Father. As I hesitantly reached out, taking hold of the statue, I could feel the jagged edges where the clay had shattered. But something—some force—had smooshed it back together.

Suddenly afraid, I set the statue down, aware that I was breathing shallowly. Fuck, what the hell was going on?
Get back to the house. Get back to the house.

I pushed myself away from the altar and whirled around, shaking. As I turned, the candle tipped over and spilled red wax all over Menolly’s statue. The flame hissed and went out, leaving me in the dark. I’d never been afraid of the dark before, but this felt oppressive, weighing down on my shoulders. I stumbled to the door, bruising my elbow as I smacked it against the hard stone wall. Ignoring the pain, I managed to get outside, but even there, the deep sense of dread dogged my heels.

The darkness loomed over me as I stumbled toward the overgrown path, searching for the eye catchers which automatically appeared at night to light the way.
Please, oh please, let the eye catchers come out.

Trying to keep away the panic, I forced myself to wait, eyes wide, until I caught sight of the glowing orbs as they shimmered into view, mirroring the stars which now created a web over the sky. Clutching the promise of the lights, I followed their trail.

Something is wrong…something is wrong. Do not trust, do not trust…be cautious, the night holds dangers you dare not even dream of…

The refrain whispered through my thoughts as I hiked up my skirts and began to run, trying to avoid the branches littering the path. The closer I got to the house, the more I knew something was going on and I had to be there to put a stop to it.

My stomach lurched as I finally came in sight of the house, and I skidded to a stop, wariness taking over.

Be careful…there is danger in the night…

With a glance at my beloved Moon Mother, I cautiously made my way toward the kitchen door. Better to go in the back way. As I put my hand on the doorknob, another rush of perspiration rose up and I found myself drenched in a sudden sweat. What the hell was going on? I wiped my forehead with the sleeve of my dress and eased open the door, peeking into the kitchen.

Everything looked normal. Water was heating on the fire for Delilah’s bath. A loaf of fresh bread, uncut, sat on the table, and a basket of vegetables were waiting to go into the next night’s soup. Tres was nowhere in sight, nor were Leethe or Kayla. But as I gauged the energy signature of the house, I realized the peace was only a masquerade. Something horrendous had happened and nothing would ever be the same again.

Maybe you’re just spooked because Menolly’s dead…I tried to comfort myself but then the image of her soul statue came crashing back. She was dead, but her statue had reformed into a hideous semblance of what it had been, jagged and sharp edged, and tainted. What could have done that? But even as I asked the question, I realized that I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.

I closed the door and softly crossed to the archway leading into the living room. Pausing, I listened. Nothing. No movement. No sense that anything was really wrong. The only sounds were those of crickets and frogs, their chirps coming through the open windows in the harvest night.

Don’t trust your senses. They are cloaked in sorrow right now.

Bleakly, I straightened my shoulders and pushed through into the living room. Father was on duty all night. Whatever happened, it was up to me to take care of it. I had barely entered the room when a noise startled me. I whirled to see Delilah—in tabby form—come running down the stairs. She raced over and leapt up in my arms, snuggling deep as I hugged her tight.

“Silly girl! You scared me.” I chuckled, then buried my face in her fur. “Poor Kitten. You couldn’t take the stress, could you sweetie?”

She began to purr, loudly, and then knead my chest, the soft swish of her tail brushing against my arm, calming me. Kitten had never been able to handle stress well and whenever she was too upset, she reverted to her tabby form. For awhile, our parents thought it was a ploy to avoid punishment when she did something wrong, but as Delilah grew up, the seers told them it was the human side of her throwing her Were nature askew. She couldn’t control her shifting very well, and they said she might never develop that control.

As she rumbled away, purring and chirping at me, I noticed something. Struggling to pay attention, I realized that the frogs and crickets outside had gone silent. As my shoulders stiffened, Delilah perked up her ears and gave me a nervous look.

“Sshh…” I whispered, easing toward the stairs. “Delilah, I’m going to put you down and I want you to go upstairs to my room, like a good girl, until you can change back. You hear me?”

She gave me a little purp and I gently set her down. As she padded up the stairs, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Time seemed to slow. I thought about going to the Guard Des’Estar, and asking Father to come home. I thought about getting out of the house. But something inside told me it was too late for either of those choices. Whatever force I’d felt in the shrine, was about to break loose.

I caught sight of the silver dagger Father had given me—he’d given each of us one of them—and inched over to the table it was on, hefting it in my hand. The feel of the blade gave me some comfort as I turned to face the door.

And then, a loud crash shattered the air as the storm broke, and the door flew open. And there, there stood Menolly.

My heart leapt into my throat. I was about to cry out, “You’re okay!” but the words died on my lips.

She stood there, leaning against the door, hair a burnished halo curling down her back. Her head was down, her pale, petite body covered with blood stains. My sister was naked, and every inch of her flesh except her hands, feet, and neck had been cut. Curves and curly-cues, coiled spirals and jagged lightning bolts, the scars were already healed, but crusted scabs covered them, giving them a ghoulish, textured look. Dried blood caked the inside of her thighs, and I knew what that meant.

“Who did this…” Again, my words faded into the wind.

Menolly lifted her head. Her lips were stained with blood, and it had trickled down to coat her chin. Her eyes gleamed, wild and feral, and I could not see my Menolly in their light. And then, she smiled, and two razor sharp fangs descended.

Vampire…she’s a vampire…

My body reacted before my mind. I screamed, turning toward the stairs. We’d been trained since childhood what to do in case of a vampire attack, and my father’s words rang in my ears, urging me on.

Run to your rooms, lock the door, get in the closet and find the wooden stakes I’ve left there. Never, ever take them out unless you need them. They are not toys. Father hated vampires and he never trusted that we might not one day run afoul of one.

And so, I was halfway up the stairs when Menolly laughed.

“Camille, wait for me. I have a gift for you.” Her voice wavered, a power rumbling beneath it, but it was too raw, too new to affect me.

And so I ran. I thundered up the stairs, screaming at the top of my lungs. The next moment, she was gaining on me, preternaturally fast.

I rounded the bend on the landing, and took the rest of the steps two at a time. Menolly was right behind me, but I had longer legs even though she was faster, and my fear managed to propel me just out of reach. But my lead wouldn’t last for long. I burst into my room and slammed the door behind me, locking it as I screamed for Delilah. She was in the corner of my bed, tail puffed, looking wide-eyed and terrified.

I grabbed her up, not wanting to her to see Menolly like this. As I headed toward the window, something slammed against the door, once, twice. The wood splintered and cracked, and my door flew off the hinges, shaking the floor as it hit.

Menolly stood there, leaning against the trashed frame, a bloody smile on her face. “Time to play,” she whispered.

Delilah hissed, yowling, and I thrust her out the open window onto the tree branch that continually rubbed against it, annoying me at night. “Run, get help!” I gave her a pleading look and her tail poofed again, but she turned and scampered down the tree.

I turned back to face Menolly. What the hell was I going to do? The look on her face was deadly. I had to try to buy myself some time. Delilah would go get help, but until then, I had to stay alive and I wasn’t banking on my chances.

“We found your soul statue. It was shattered, but it fixed itself.” If I could get her talking, maybe I could reason with her. Father had to be wrong. I knew that not every vampire automatically killed anyone in their path. Surely some had to be thinking, reasoning creatures? And Menolly had been my sister.

“Just like Father will find yours has done.” A bloody grin sprang to her face and I could see just how sharp her teeth were. Dangerous, razor-ready to dig into my neck.

“Menolly—please. Stop and think. Don’t let this take you over. Whatever happened to you, we can find a way to cope with it. We can…”

“You can what? Save me from what Dredge did to me?” She slowly began to walk forward, her eyes glittering. I realized she made no sound as she moved—quiet as the grave. “You’re going to save me from these marks he left on my body to remember him by? You’re going to save me now that I’m dead? You always have to be saving somebody or other, don’t you, Camille? Father made sure that you toed the mark. You’re a good soldier’s daughter, aren’t you?”

Dredge. The name rang a death knell in my heart. Dredge had turned her. The worst vampire to ever walk the paths of Otherworld. The vamp she’d been assigned to spy on. He’d caught her, he’d tortured her—and then, he’d turned her.

I edged along the side of the bed, matching her pace, wondering if I could climb out of the window and down the tree before she caught me. But then, I remembered—Tres and Leethe and Kayla were in the house. And if I ran out, they’d be left to fend for themselves and they couldn’t stand against her. I glanced over at the closet where the vampire stakes were hiding, but she intercepted my look.

“Don’t even think it. Father was stupid. Hiding stakes in the closet? Does he know how fast my kind run?”

I stopped cold. “Your kind? Menolly, you aren’t…” But she was. She was a vampire. A ruthless, cold-blooded killer.

Menolly paused, and she almost looked like she felt sorry for me. “That’s right. You know the score. You know what I am. And you know why I’m here. Camille…it’s easy. Just give yourself over to me. I’ll make it easy. I won’t hurt you. You’ll love it—eternal beauty, eternal life. No more kowtowing to the snobs who look down on us because we’re Windwalkers.” Her voice was soft and seductive.

A thrill ran through me. I started to move toward her, then caught myself.

“Menolly, please, don’t.” I scrambled up on the bed, holding my dagger in front of me. It was silver, and I knew vampires reacted badly to silver. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Face facts.” She stared at the blade. “You’re not that good of a fighter.”

“Maybe not, but I’m banking on the hope that you aren’t that adept at being a vampire yet.” If I could get to the door, maybe I could manage to hit the stairs before she caught me. I couldn’t lock the door behind me—she’d blown it off its hinges, but I had to try. I couldn’t just give up. Edging to the other side of the bed, I focused on her knees and feet. Never look a vampire in the eyes, Father had taught us.

“Let’s find out, shall we?”

She leaped for me and I jumped off the bed and raced out the door, with her hot on my heels. We had a safe room in the basement. If I could get inside and lock the door, I could protect myself. It was built to keep giants, ogres, and trolls out. I doubted even a vampire could shatter through the silver leafed iron wood.

As I clattered headlong down the stairs, Tres and Leethe appeared at the bottom, staring up from near the front door.

“Get out—get help!” I screamed. “Go!”

They glanced behind me, their eyes widening, and raced out of the door. I slammed it closed as I ran past, trying to prevent Menolly from going after them. But she ignored the door, ignored them, and I realized that she was done playing games. She meant to kill me.

Screaming bloody murder, I charged for the basement. Menolly reached out to grab my arm, her cold, clammy hand squeezing too tight. A bone cracked, and then another as a wave of pain rolled through me.

Through the burning haze, the reality of what was happening set in. I might have to kill her, if I wanted to survive. On autopilot, numb from the broken bones and the fear, I turned to awkwardly stab at her with the dagger. The silver tip of the blade slid into her arm, hissing, as a wisp of smoke rose.

Menolly screamed and let go. I took advantage of her surprise and bolted down the basement stairs, tripping and rolling down the last five. Ignoring the jolt of pain that raced through my arm and ribs, I scrambled to my feet again as she followed.

We were near the safe room. I ran toward the door at a dead heat, veering off a that last moment. If she was going too fast, she’d stumble in there before she could stop herself and I could lock the door from the outside, trapping her. I pressed back against the wall, praying to the Moon Mother.

But at the last moment, Menolly turned. She was onto my trick. As she cornered me against the wall, I slashed with the dagger again, using my good arm, and managed to stab her in the shoulder. She grabbed hold of the blade, tossing it to the side with a hiss.

This was it. She was going to kill me. The bloodlust raged across her face, thirst flashing in her eyes. Steeling myself, I tried not to cry as I stared her down.

“Menolly, please…I am begging you. Don’t do this. I love you. Delilah loves you. We’ve been searching for you for days now. We need you.” I had no clue what I was saying, the words just spilled out of my mouth. “You’re my little sister. No matter what you do, you’ll always be my little sister. I’m sorry I didn’t look out for you more—I’m sorry I let this happen to you. Please don’t hate me for not saving you.”

Guilt and terror warred with the pain. I sank down, crouching against the wall, waiting for the end.

But nothing happened. Only silence.

I glanced up at her.

The bloodlust was still there, the hunger and the drive to hunt, to feed and kill. But a glimmer sparkled in the back of her eyes. I knew that look. It was Menolly—the Menolly I loved.

She let out a strangled cry and backed away. “No…no…I will not let you win! You got me—you got what you wanted, but I won’t let you take my family away from me, you murdering bastard!” She waved at some invisible enemy, and I realized she was screaming at Dredge.

With an effort that seemed to cost her her soul, she turned, raced into the safe room, and slammed the door behind her.

Her words echoed through the heavy ironwood. “Lock me in. Now. Now, before I can’t stop myself. Camille, I will kill you when I lose it again—I’m fighting for control right now but I don’t have long. The bloodlust is too strong—I can’t resist the thirst. I won’t be able to stop myself. You have to help me.”

I dragged myself to my feet and staggered over to the door. The heavy beam that would brace the door from the outside took both hands to lift, and as I forced my broken arm to obey, I screamed from the shock as a wave of pain ricocheted through me. My stomach lurched and I vomited as I struggled to get the beam in place.

And then, it was over. Menolly was trapped.

“Menolly. Hang on. Whatever you do—hang on. I love you. I’m going to get help.”

As I leaned against the door, weeping, my good hand resting against the cool wood, I could feel her, pressed against the other side, her hand meeting mine.

“I love you too. And I love Kitten. Whatever happens, whatever you have to do…please don’t remember me like this. Please.”

And then, it was over, and she started pounding against the door, growling. She’d lost herself again. I ran upstairs and out the front door, screaming for help. Then, without warning, the adrenaline wore off and exhaustion and shock set in. As I dropped to a bench in the yard, I glanced at the tree next to the house.

Delilah was there, still in tabby form. I realized she’d been there all along, terrified to move. I whistled to her, and she began to climb down the tree trunk. Grateful she’d seen as little as she had, I sat there, in the blackened night, staring up at the stars, the pain in my heart far worse than the throbbing of my body.

The reality of what we were facing hit me full force. Yes, Menolly was dead, but she’d come back. And now, I had to convince Father not to let the Guard stake her. And I had to convince him that somehow, we could rehabilitate her. I’d already lost my mother. I couldn’t face losing my sister, too.

Sounds from down the road told me that help was on the way. And then I could see them coming. Tres and Leethe had managed to get to safety and were on the way back with Father.

Numb, weary, I waited for them. What the hell kind of future did we have ahead of us now? And would Menolly be a part of that future, or fade into our past? I gazed up at the Moon Mother, praying for her guidance, as the smell of bonfire smoke drifted past, and the autumn wind shook the last of the leaves from the trees.