Phoenix and Ashes

Elsewhere

ELEANOR STARED AT THE SMALL army of Earth Elementals facing them, and put one hand on the back of a Salamander to steady herself. There was no way that she could battle all of them—they'd overwhelm her by sheer numbers. Was it possible that she could call for more help?

Well, what do I lose by trying! She didn't close her eyes, but she did turn her focus inward, calling up from memory the glyphs and sigils that would bring one of the Great Elementals, many of whom had been worshipped as gods. At this point, she didn't particularly care which one, either; the only thing that she did stipulate in her mind was that she really didn't want to fight, not even these things—

As she traced the last sigil in her mind, the whole diagram suddenly flared in the air between her and the Earth creatures, hanging there like a fantastical fireworks display.

And beside her, she heard a swift intake of breath.

Her companion began to grow. His nimbus of flame flared out, engulfing her—but she felt nothing but a cool breeze on her skin, and smelled nothing but the faint scent of cinnamon and clove. He sprouted wings, too, and his head became bird-like—no, hawk-like— and when he stopped growing, at roughly twelve feet tall, she recognized him. Or at least, what he represented.

Horus, the Egyptian god of the rising sun, the son of Osiris and Isis.

She stared at him. Of all creatures, the least likely—

Or perhaps not. She had been working through a Tarot pack which employed many symbols out of ancient Egypt. Horus was as likely as any other, given that influence.

The Earth creatures stared at him as well, dumbfounded, as the flaming sigils faded away. He looked down at them, then turned his head to stare at Eleanor, wings flaring.

'Do you still want to negotiate with them?' came his mild voice. 'I think you're in a better position now.'

The Salamanders romped about his ankles as she looked up at him. 'I'd rather not hurt anyone,' she said, though a bit doubtfully. 'If I can help it, that is.'

'That's wise, here,' he conceded. 'There's no point in making more enemies than you have to. They have long memories, and hold grudges forever.'

He turned to the Earth creatures. 'Let us pass,' he said, his voice taking on trumpet-like tones. 'We would rather not harm you, but we will fight to escape if we must. You do not wish to fight us.'

There was uneasy stirring from the line of Earth creatures, but no one moved. Finally the Redcap spoke up, sullenly.

'All right for you to say, but what about us? What happens when the Earth Master discovers you've slipped the trap? She'll have us then, for certain-sure!'

Horus clacked his beak impatiently. 'And if we break her protections first? She'll be yours, then.'

There were startled looks, then the creatures began talking urgently among themselves. Eleanor couldn't even begin to recognize what they all were; a good half of them hadn't been in any of her reading yet. They all looked like things out of nightmare. Including, of course, the Night-mare.

Horus waited patiently until the murmuring stopped, but if he had expected a direct answer, he didn't get one. Instead, the assembled creatures merely faded away into the shadows and the depths of the maze, leaving the path open.

Eleanor looked up at her protector, and he down at her. 'That is as direct an answer as you will ever have from the likes of them,' Horus said. 'The way is open, for now—until they change their minds.'

That was all she needed. She ran forward, out of the maze and into—

—darkness—

She realized, after a moment of light-headed giddiness that at least part of the darkness was because there was a blanket over her head. It was stifling, and she could hardly think, because she felt so—so intoxicated—

That's—because—I am— Alison had drugged her, as she had suspected, and there was still plenty of the stuff in her veins. She jounced along, lying on her side, two sets of feet poking into her, and the roar of an automobile engine near at hand. It was hard, so hard to think—even the fear that sat cold and primal in the pit of her soul was sluggish.