The Tree, Page 8

  “We can’t have this discord between you two while you are in Zebub. We’ll be dealing with enough outside threats without us falling apart from the inside.”

  “I know. I plan to talk to him tomorrow at the meeting,” Erik answered.

  Matthias nodded. They had all planned to meet; those who would be leaving for Zebub in less than a week. To meet and talk through research and prep.

  “This news changes things,” Matthias said quietly.

  Erik nodded. He agreed. Leaving this world behind to try and save it was much easier when you weren’t worried all hell was going to break loose in your absence.

  “We might have to call off the trip,” Erik said reluctantly.

  “You will still go,” said a voice behind him. Erik turned to face his grandmother.

  “Gram. I can’t leave—”

  “Oh yes you can. You think your mother and I can’t handle a little war? We been handling worse since before you were born.” Hettie moved in close to his face.

  His mother came up behind Hettie, having heard everything, and nodded her head.

  “You need to go. This is an opportunity and you can’t pass it up. You need to figure out if New York is an isolated incident or if it’s the beginning of something bigger. Remember, their world is being devoured. Maybe they’re looking for another world to take over. I’m not sure this world could survive another war of the descendants.” Grandma Hettie put her hand on his right shoulder.

  Erik knew she was right. He turned his head.

  “Matthias?” He asked.

  “Yeah.” The man seemed to be shaking off his fear. His face was still grim as hell but there was more color to his cheeks.

  “We’ll fill in Tae, Elana, Elliot, and Daya on all this tomorrow at the meeting. Then we’ll decide.”

  “Sure,” Matthias nodded.

  His mother came up on his other side.

  “We can handle this. I promise,” she said quietly.

  “It’s not that I think you two can’t handle it. If you work together.” He let that hang in the air for a beat. “I just feel like I should be here. I’m probably one of the most effective fighters we have.”

  “You’re more than that, son. Remember that. You’re more than just your fists,” Dayida said seriously.

  “I know.” He smiled at her and then hugged his mother and gram separately.

  “You’re right. In the end it changes nothing,” Erik added. “We knew there was danger and others would work against us and that’s still the case. Our reasons for going haven’t changed. We’ll do more research and train as much as possible.”

  DAYIDA

  Dayida’s life had changed drastically in the last few weeks. The illusion of being a normal mother and artist had been torn away violently and ripped into tiny shreds. There was no going back. She was not foolish. Dayida knew that when secrets started to be revealed, many others could, and often did, come tumbling out. So she had spent the days leading up to Erik’s departure in the conflicting position of wanting to spend time with him but also wondering when everything would be revealed. When would she have to explain herself?

  She’d stayed in her studio, painting more and more with the power thrumming through her shoulders and upper arms. She was always at the center of the paintings now. Sometimes she was leading a party into battle and sometimes she was surrounded by others who would not look at her and always, always, she looked isolated and alone. Her painted image was often wrapped in faded cloth, with feet ripped and bleeding. An infinite sadness welled up in her when she looked at those portraits.

  Dayida kept these paintings covered, in one corner of her workroom. These she would not put in shows. If she had her way no one but her would ever see them. She wanted to destroy them but whenever she got close to doing so a chill shot through her body, so rough and thorough it felt like her body was about to shake apart.

  Dayida locked her workroom when she left.

  She had managed to avoid Hettie after their conversation the night before, but when she exited her studio Hettie was waiting in the kitchen sipping a cup of coffee. She held up the mug.

  “Would you like some, Yida?”

  “No, thank you. I don’t drink caffeine anymore.” She tried to keep her voice neutral but the smirk on her mother’s face let her know that it hadn’t worked that well. “Where’s Erik?”

  “He already left with Matthias. They said they had some stuff to take care of before the meeting. So it looks like we’re riding together.”

  Dayida could not bite down on the sigh of frustration. She saw Hettie roll her eyes as she drained the rest of the mug.

  “Are you ready?” Hettie asked, all attempts at levity gone from her voice.

  “As I’ll ever be,” Dayida grumped back.

  “You’ve always been a delightful child,” Hettie said quietly as she gathered her purse and made sure that her purple headwrap was secure. She wore a matching kaftan that clung to her curves and fell all the way to the floor. Dayida herself was in dark gray jeans and a yellow button down that was liberally splattered with black and red paint. She had no intention of changing.

  “And you a most nurturing mother,” Dayida replied.

  Her mother only smirked at the rejoinder. Dayida grabbed her keys from the counter and gestured for Hettie to proceed her out of the door.

  The thing attacked them as they were on either side of the car, about to get in. Hettie saw it first.

  “Yida, down!”

  She was not in the habit of listening to Hettie but the tone of her voice made Dayida react instinctively. She dropped to the ground. The crunch of metal exploded above her and she glanced up to see her attacker trying to pull itself from where it had gone through the car door. She rolled underneath the car and she pulled herself out from under the other side, near Hettie.

  “You okay?” Hettie asked.

  “Yes.”

  The thing finally freed its “arm” in a screech of metal and glass that tore the driver’s-side door nearly off the hinges. It reared back and Dayida got a look at the thing. It towered over them, its body long and thick. It had only the one “arm,” with three stubby grasping digits in the center of its “torso.” There were hundreds of smaller legs lining both sides of its body. It looked like a gigantic millipede, all of its body a shiny black color.

  It let out an odd cry and curled its body into a ring, launching itself over the car. Hettie pushed Dayida to the side. As she landed on the ground, she heard another screech and looked up to see the thing slowing in the air as it fell. The air around it was becoming colder, whiter, and visible with the chill her mother was summoning. Hettie’s face looked strained and her hands shook as more and more cold coalesced.

  Water and cold, as far as power was concerned, were two very different elements. Not many bloodlines were able to control both and the fact that her mother was able to affect ice at all was a testimony to Hettie’s level of power and will.

  But Dayida could see that the thing was adapting. Its black skin was glistening brighter and brighter and there were cracks in the ice that was forming between the thing and her mother. Cracks that were widening.

  The ice shattered and the thing plowed into Hettie.

  Dayida snarled and the power flowed into her shoulders. They became tight and coiled with power. Even as Hettie yelled and pushed at the thing on top of her Dayida was already rushing forward. She grasped her fists together and swung them up in the air. She jumped as she got closer using the momentum of her running and leap to add to the power of her strike as she brought her hands down.

  The black surface of its back cracked and it let out a howl that echoed through the neighborhood. It spun, almost too fast to follow, and lunged for her. All of a sudden, the power in her shoulders swelled and raced down her arms. As she held them up to shield herself her fingers felt like they had burst into flame and she screamed even as she watched what looked like molten metal flow from her fingers and form a wall that the mon
ster hit and bent with its impact.

  Then just as fast the metal melted back into her hands.

  The thing was still alive, though curled in on itself and shivering. There was an odd breaking sound mixed with the gurgle of water and Dayida saw the ground beneath it begin to break apart and congeal with moisture. She glanced at Hettie, who was staring at the creature. Her eyes were a dark stormy blue from lid to lid, as she called water up through who knew how many miles of earth.

  The ground beneath the creature turned first to mud and then became more and more liquid as the thing sank into it. It disappeared from sight and eventually all she could see was mud. Then it was just a patch of brown dirt in the center of her driveway.

  “What the hell was that?” Dayida asked, breathing hard.

  “I have no idea. It didn’t resemble any Angelic I’ve ever heard of. Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” Dayida said absently, too in shock to say anything more. She stared down at her hands. The light brown of her palms was an angry, blistered red. There was no pain and as she watched, the skin slowly lost the tinge of red and returned to its normal healthy brown. She did notice that all of her blemishes, all the scars and moles and spots on her hands, had been burned away. The skin looked the same but it felt tight and new.

  “You’ve got a powerful gift, Dayida,” Hettie said.

  She nodded, still staring at her smooth, youthful hands when the ground began to rumble. Dayida and Hettie looked at one another with wide eyes.

  “Move,” Hettie breathed.

  They both scrambled around the car, as far from the patch of dirt as they could. It exploded into a geyser of mud that shot into the air and covered both of them. The thing came out of the ground with a roar that shook the driveway. The top of its tumescent body moved back and forth, as if clearing what passed for its mind. Then it went still and focused in their direction.

  It moved quickly, body squeezing beneath the car, upending it through the air as it reared to its full height on the other side. It tried to strike, but found itself beaten back by a blast of water shooting from Hettie’s fists.

  “I can’t do this forever,” Hettie called.

  Dayida knew this. Even as she watched, her mother’s skin turned dry and her cheeks sunk in. Hettie was using the water in her own body for this and there wasn’t enough for long without hurting herself.

  “Can you suck it dry instead?”

  Hettie looked over at her with hooded eyes. “Yes.”

  There was a wealth of emotion in that one word. Stories that Dayida might never know. Pain she would never be allowed to touch. Despite their problems she did not want to willfully subject Hettie to pain. Unfortunately, she didn’t see another choice.

  “Do it.”

  Hettie took a deep breath. “I need to be touching it.”

  Dayida nodded. “I’ll distract it.”

  Even as Hettie stopped her spray Dayida was running to the side of the creature, yelling and drawing its attention to her. It lunged forward. The top half of it moved fast while its base was stationary. She dropped to the ground, and felt the grasping digits of its arm tangle with and yank out a chunk of her hair.

  She screamed but at the same time another voice cried out in pain. The cry was nothing human. Notes that would tear a human throat to shreds undulated between the ranges of Barry White and Mariah Carey and beyond. The screech of pain had nothing of humanity in it.

  But if that was the case why did its pain find an echo in her own chest?

  Dayida staggered to her feet and away from the sound, doing her best to clutch at her ears and bleeding scalp. She looked back as the wail shrank in volume. Her mother was behind the creature, hands planted on its bottom half. It was undulating and striking at her; Hettie’s kaftan was covered in rips, but her face was flush and full. Her skin was lush and dewy.

  The creature, in contrast, was not looking well. It shrunk and shriveled in on itself as it was drained of whatever liquid was in its body. The blackness of its body got brighter and its skin began to flake off. Its movements became sluggish and slow.

  Power coursed through Dayida once more and this time she was ready for the metal to emerge and she actually wished for a shape. The metal responded to her wish. The broadsword was heavy and lethal looking, crudely shaped but with a wicked serrated edge. She brought the edge down on the thing and it shattered in an explosion of glass and something dark and wet that smelled of burning fuel and sizzled where it touched their skin.

  She looked to Hettie and saw that she was fine. Any cuts she received from their foe already healed into perfect brown skin. Dayida walked closer to her and looked down at the creature’s shattered remains. The pieces glittered in the noonday sun.

  They were silent for a long moment before Dayida spoke.

  “He looks similar to the thing that Erik described attacking him on his first night awakened. The one they could never identify. That one was shaped like a human but the same material. The same shattering.”

  Hettie was nodding but still looking down at the pieces of the thing. Finally she spoke.

  “This is not right. Aside from whatever that thing is, it attacked in broad daylight where anyone could see it. It doesn’t make sense.”

  Dayida looked down at the dead thing that had attacked them, and then up at the cloudless sky. She looked around at the curtains that were swaying as people darted away, and the doors that were opened just a crack.

  “What should we do?” Hettie asked, her eyes moving, tracking the same things as Dayida.

  “I’m going to call Erik. Let’s get whatever pieces we can off the street and into the house.”

  They gathered all of the larger pieces and anything they could sweep into impromptu pouches made from folded clothing. When they were loaded down, Hettie created a quick flash of water down the driveway to sweep the rest into the storm drain, and away from them.

  ERIK

  Matthias had picked him up early in the morning. They spent the day going to visit every single independent who would agree to meet with them. They warned them all about the disappearances in New York, and helped set up agreements between some of the disparate independent groups, so they would all have someone to call for help if necessary.

  Everywhere they went, Erik was subject to scrutiny at best, and hostile glares at worse. Matthias had insisted he be there, though. These people needed to at least see him before he left. He couldn’t let himself be some blank slate, onto which the Organization or the Agency could project whatever lies they wanted.

  It had been exhausting but he felt that at least some of the people he met could be called on if he needed help. They were on their way to see one more independent before the meeing with the Agency when Erik’s phone went off. He saw his home number displayed and was tempted to silence it. His mother was likely calling to complain about having to ride with his grandmother. But even now, with the power he wielded, the idea of silencing the phone when his mother called filled him with a childhood dread.

  “Hey Mama, sorry—”

  “Erik. Get back here now. Something attacked us in broad daylight,” she interrupted.

  Erik put his hand over the receiver and turned to Matthias. “Home. Now.”

  Matthias nodded and gunned the engine.

  “Are you and Grandma okay?” Erik asked.

  “Yeah, we’re fine but the neighbors definitely saw something.”

  “Shit, Mom. We’ll be there soon. Stay inside and stay safe.”

  “What happened?” Matthias asked as he took a corner entirely too fast.

  “First, slow down. They’re safe but we won’t be able to help if we get into a wreck.”

  Matthias grimaced but his foot eased off the gas a bit.

  “Thanks.” Erik released the death grip he had on the “oh shit” bar. “They were attacked by something.”

  “An Ante?”

  Erik thought about it. “They didn’t say, but I don’t think so. Gram knows an Ante when she se
es one and Mama definitely said some-thing.”

  “That’s not good,” Matthias muttered as he merged onto Geary Street.

  “Or it’s actually really good,” Erik countered.

  Matthias just glanced at him with an eyebrow raised.

  “It means that we’ve touched a nerve somehow. Something isn’t happy with what we’re doing so we must be doing something right.”

  Matthias let out a chuckle. “You know that’s not normal, right? The belief that if you’re pissing someone off you must be doing something right?”

  Erik shrugged with a small smile. “Didn’t say it worked for everyone. Just for me.”

  “You’re special,” Matthias said.

  “I know. That’s why you love me.” It slipped out before he could stop it.

  “Right.” Matthias’s voice was empty of anything.

  And just like that the energy in the car turned from jovial to uncomfortable silence for the rest of the ride.

  They hurried down the driveway, but not so quick that Erik didn’t notice the itch of being watched creeping across his back and the feeling of silent observation that now surrounded the property. It wasn’t just their neighbors that were watching. Erik was used to being watched but this was altogether different. There wasn’t just greed and curiosity in the air. There was malice as well.

  “You feel that?” Erik asked.

  Matthias nodded. “We’re being hunted.”

  “Let’s get inside. Now.”

  They moved quickly and Erik made sure to lock the door behind them.

  “Mom? Gram?”

  “In the kitchen!”

  Erik hurried to them with Matthias hot on his tail.

  The two women hovered over the dining room table, which was piled high with what looked like broken black glass. Erik recognized it almost immediately. From the look he shared with him, so did Matthias.

  “What did it look like?” Matthias asked.

  “Like something that a person who watched too much Cronenberg as a child and developed a horrible fear of millipedes might conjure in a nightmare. Including one grasping arm in the middle of its body,” Hettie explained.