Storykiller (29 page)

“Tovaien kiaane, Tal. Did we have to meet in the simane tashla feeata!?”

“You would prefer Main Street?”

“Yes. Yes, I would,” she seethed, joining them, the air dropping in temperature just based on her proximity alone.

“If you’d just warm up the air a bit you probably wouldn’t need to lug around that huge animal carcass,” Robin said.

“Do you mean this
magnificent
animal carcass?” Snow asked, scrunching herself down into it even deeper.

“Enough. Let’s go,” Tal said, all business now that Snow had joined them.

“Wait. I didn’t sign on for a trio,” Robin protested.

“Not my call,” Tal said, and she caught Robin’s eye for just a moment, something dangerous flashing in them.

“I’ve been summoned,” Snow said matter-of-factly.

“Let’s hope it’s a one-way trip for you,” Robin said, trying to ignore her and catch Tal’s eye again, but failing at both.

“Oh gods, yes, let’s hope,” Snow replied, genuine excitement in her voice. Tal rolled her eyes as she took out a dimensional pebble and threw it into the air. It hovered midair as words slipped from her mouth and the forest flared up into a shock of blue light.

“Well, let’s make sure to drop me off first then,” Robin said as the doorway opened.

When Robin emerged on the other side of the dimensional doorway to find himself in a remote part of the Story castle that housed The Court he knew something had gone horribly wrong.

School was a blur of noise and bright colors that Tessa had trouble feigning interest in. And the next time she felt conscious of herself (and slightly less miserable) it was night,
and she was patrolling Northside Park. It frustrated her that she felt more aware of herself—more alive, even—in her “Scion Tessa” persona then in her “Normal Tessa” persona, but she pretended it was just because one made her feel closer to Robin and that she missed him. It made her feel a bit better about things.

The park was just as quiet as it—and everything—had been all week. When she was done patrolling Northside, she headed to Woodlawn Cemetery. Woodlawn bumped up against the woods on three sides, which made it prime grounds for things that went bump in the forest as far as Tessa was concerned. It was also where Bishop’s funeral would be tomorrow afternoon. Tessa wanted to make sure his funeral was peaceful, even if his death had been anything but.

Tessa walked through the Woodlawn gates and left the auto path to wander among the graves. It was silent and still, and it probably would have been nice except her mind was in overdrive. All the silence did was provide a nice blank landscape for her brain to go crazy on.

Robin had not even been gone for a day and she missed him like a phantom limb. He had somehow managed to crawl into all the corners of her mind. Even places he didn’t belong. She had been unprepared for how quickly she had become attached to Robin. The intensity of her feelings continued to frighten her, but her fear was nowhere near as strong as her longing. She wanted him back, safely at her side.

Ten minutes into her sweep of Woodlawn, she heard, or perhaps felt was more accurate, something following her. She abruptly circled a decrepit crypt and looped back in the hopes of coming up behind whatever was following her. When she turned the last corner of the crypt, she almost collided with Fenris, leaning against the stone, arms crossed, waiting
for her.

“Damm
it!” Tessa shouted, jumping backwards and clenching her eyes shut reflexively.

“Sorry, luv,” he said, a funny smile on his face. Tessa clenched her fists almost unconsciously, all of Robin’s warnings echoing in her brain.

“What are you doing here?”

Fenris shrugged noncommittally and looked around the dark cemetery. “Thought you could use a hand on your sweep, with Robin away,” he said, turning his gaze back to her, a bit hungrily, she thought. Tessa turned away from his look and began walking again but in a different direction than she had originally been headed.

“Thanks, but I’m fine. I’d rather be alone,” she said, not sure if she really meant it. Fenris jogged a few steps until he was keeping pace with her.

“Lots of bad things in these places, Scion. Doesn’t hurt to have an extra pair of eyes,” he said, his voice rough.

Tessa arched her eyebrow at him. “I have seen a whole lot of nothing on the bad front,” she said and then thought better of it and added, “Not that I’m complaining.”

Fenris looked toward the trees surrounding them. “Just because you don’t see it, doesn’t mean it isn’t there,” he said. Tessa stopped walking and turned to face him. Robin’s speech must have gotten under her skin more than she realized, or maybe she’d just had enough cryptic crap to last her a lifetime.

“Oh, yes, of course, yet another cryptic response. I see a lot of smoke from you, Fenris, I’ve yet to find the fire,” she snapped.

Fenris continued scanning the woods around them. “There’s nothing cryptic about it, Scion. You’ve just barely scratched the surface.”

Like everything he said, Tessa could feel the multiple meanings. Some made her squirm inside more than others. She climbed a small hill, chewing on her lip and thinking about how she should respond. As she neared the top, she turned to face him and stretched out her arms. She continued walking backwards and looked at the quiet all around them. “So show me something beneath the surface,” she said.

And as she did so, she fell into an open grave.

Tessa hit the bottom of the grave with a thud.

But she wasn’t just in an open grave. She was in an empty coffin. She shuddered, hoping it wasn’t some terrible, prophetic sign of her imminent death. By the time she looked up, Fenris was standing at the top of the grave.

“You alright?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Tessa said, standing up and brushing herself off. “Why the hell is this all open and empty?” she cussed.

“We’ve got bigger problems than that, Hardcore,
” Fenris said, and she noticed he wasn’t looking at her, but out across the graveyard.

“What?” she asked, scowling and wishing she didn’t have to know the answer. He looked down at her and shook his head, then knelt to give
her his hand, pulling her up out of the hole.

“Look,” he said, pointing. Tessa followed his gaze. Before her, across the rolling dark grass,
she saw dozens of graves, all dug up, all empty. They laid there like open, black, festering sores, piles of dark dirt lying next to them.

“Balls,” Tessa said under her breath. “Well, that’s not good.”

Fenris shook his head at her side. “I’d say not.”

Tessa and Fenris examined a few of the empty graves and the not-so-subtle trail that led into the woods behind the cemetery.

“They don’t look like they rose on their own,” Tessa said.

“Yes, when something rises from the grave it tends to not leave a neat pile of discarded dirt.” Fenris moved to the edge of the woods, sniffing, and then turned abruptly back to Tessa. “Let me walk you home.”

“What?” Tessa asked, surprised and more than a little annoyed. “I mean, first of all,
‘no, I don’t need an escort, thanks’
and secondly, aren’t we going to follow the trail?”

Fenris shook his head. “No.”

“Explain.”

“We can’t, just the two of us, follow a trail of dead into the woods, who knows how deep and with who knows what waiting for us.”

Tessa mocked him. “I’m sorry—is the BIG BAD WOLF—
afraid
???”

“Not afraid. Just smart. You think you get to be this old by just running off half-cocked at the first sign of trouble, Hardcore? You’re smarter than that.”

Tessa grumbled, but inside she knew he was right. He put a hand on her arm as if to guide her home, and she shook him off. They walked in silence for nearly ten minutes before Tessa couldn’t take it anymore.

“Good God, man, don’t you know how to make polite conversation?”

Fenris shifted his eyes at her, one eyebrow raised. “Is that what you want?”

“It’s better than walking in silence,” Tessa said and then clarified, “Wait. Nothing prophecy-related, nothing horrifying, we’re talking casual light conversation, yeah?”

Fenris smiled. “I think you have me confused with Robin.”

Tessa now raised her own eyebrow, “How so?”

“Robin’s the all-business type.
I’m anything but,” he said, his smile curling deeply into his face.

“Oh yeah, you’re the picture of Mr. Funtime,” Tessa said sarcastically, and the look on his face was almost like she had hurt his feelings. “How about this,” Tessa said, throwing him a bone. “Tell me something nice. True and nice.”

There was a long pause, and Tessa wondered if he was having trouble coming up with one good thing. Jeez.

“I like Mortals,” Fenris said finally.

Tessa chuffawed (and nearly snorted). “What, to
eat
?”

He stopped walking and looked at her, as if offended. Tessa stared back at him, unsure what was happening. He frowned. “Not to eat. To be around. To spend time with. They’re—” he trailed off, almost like he was embarrassed. “They’re funny,” he said finally
. Tessa opened her mouth to speak and then shut it. She felt like she’d slipped into Bizarro world.

“You’re, you’re being serious.”

Fenris nodded.

“You like mortals because they’re
funny
?” Tessa asked, not even trying to hide her surprise.

“Stories aren’t very funny on the whole. It’s all ‘dire this’ and ‘tragedy that.’ Big stakes and prophecies and damsels in distress—”

“—From
you
,” Tessa cut in.

“Sure, whatever,” he said dismissively. “And it’s not like there aren’t funny Stories. There are. They exist but even then it doesn’t feel
organic
?” he looked at her, a question in his expression as if he wasn’t sure that was the right word. Tessa shrugged her shoulders. She had no idea how to help him with his puzzlings; she was so floored by the entire line of conversation she couldn’t have made a helpful suggestion if her life depended on it.

“It’s all,
telegraphed
,” he said. “Or that’s how it feels to me after being here for a few centuries. Mortals surprise me all the time. Stories almost never do. And I like surprises,” he said, shrugging. Tessa blinked and said nothing. It was funny that he thought Stories couldn’t be surprising because this whole conversation was surprising the hell out of her. Also? This was now, officially, the weirdest conversation of her entire existence. Which was saying something.

She took a chance.

“Do you know where I come from? What Story The Scion line is descended from?”

There was too long a pause for the answer to be no.

“You wouldn’t know him,” Fenris began, and before Tessa could interrupt, he continued. “A Scion killed him long ago and thus he no longer exists.”

The information was like a bucket of ice water poured over her. “Wha—? Why would a Scion kill our own ancestor?”

“I don’t know,” Fenris said, and it had the frustrated sound of truth.

“Can you, I mean, even if I wouldn’t know his Story—what was his name?”

“His name was Xavier. He was very old and very powerful,” Fenris said.

Tessa thought it sounded like he had known him well. “Why is everything so goddamn complicated? It feels like for every question I ask or new thing I learn, there are infinite layers. I mean, what else don’t I know?” she opined, more to herself than Fenris.

He was quiet for a long time and then stopped walking and said, “I will tell you something that I think you should know, Scion.”

Tessa trembled a little despite herself and stopped so that she could look at him. They turned to face each other on the empty street, and Tessa could feel he was going to say something horrible, something that would make her life even more difficult. She took in a deep breath. “Okay. Shoot.”

“The Story world is at war with itself. It’s one of the many reasons that your appearance right now is both important and dangerous.”

Tessa was stunned. “War? What kind of war?”

Fenris considered his words. “Like everything else, it’s complicated, but think of it this way, Scion, in the Mortal world, you have all manner of disagreements when it comes to God. Religion and God here, it frequently means nothing less than war, right?
”