All That Lives Must Die

The warriors at Dallas’s side fell one by one, but she fought on, determined and fearless.

This was not the Dallas that Fiona knew-not the shoe-shopping, care-about-nothing socialite. This was Dallas the goddess.

More wind and dust whipped across the field, and Fiona couldn’t see her anymore.

“Curious. .,” Mr. Ma remarked. “This is not like the other times.”

“I have to know what’s going on,” Fiona whispered. She moved toward the ring of weeping stones.

Mr. Ma set a hand on her arm. His flesh was immovable iron, and he checked her motion.

Fiona turned to him. Mr. Ma’s eyes were unyielding-but so were hers. In her veins raced the blood of the Immortals. She felt ten feet tall. She felt a sense of pride and purpose that she had never before experienced.

“I have to go to them,” she whispered. “And I will.” Her gaze dropped to his hand.

Mr. Ma looked about. . perhaps to see where Miss Westin was, but not seeing her anywhere, he sighed and released Fiona.

Did he know what she was? Surely the teachers at Paxington had to know that she and Eliot were half Immortal. He had to know that it was her family out on that battlefield.

“Very well,” he said. “I, too, wish to see what is happening. We shall investigate this anomaly together. You will stay behind at all times. . or I can and will carry you back here, child. You understand?”

She nodded.

They started down the hill.

“Hey!” Eliot said, trotting after them. “If you’re going, so am I.”

“I will accompany you as well,” Jezebel declared, stepping forward.

“I’ll go, too, if that’s okay.” Mitch flipped over a new page in his sketchbook.

Mr. Ma sighed, shook his head, then looked to the rest of Team Scarab.

Amanda stood behind one of the stones, barely peeking out, trembling.

Robert sighed and looked at Amanda, then said, “I’ll stay here and watch.”

Jeremy crossed his arms. “I have no desire to see the blood and guts of gods and devils, up close, thank you very much.”

Sarah Covington glanced uneasily from the battlefield, to Mr. Ma, to her cousin, and then whispered, “I guess I’ll be staying here as well.”

Mr. Ma turned to the rest of them. “Stay close to me, then, and always behind. I will tolerate no wandering off.” Then more to himself, he said, “Something is very wrong.”

He strode down the hill, and they followed.

Eliot trotted next to Fiona, apparently just as curious about their family, although he was looking more at the Infernals. She was fascinated with them, too. . in a grotesque, can’t-take-your-eyes-off-it-because-it’s-so-horrific way.

How could she and Eliot be related to them? And how could they look so human one moment and so completely monstrous the next? Which was their real form?

Overhead, flocks of crows and vultures circled.

Was their father a man or that thing they’d caught a glimpse of standing over Beelzebub as Del Sombra burned down around them? A bat-winged nightmare?

Mr. Ma led them past heroes who fought valiantly, picking a path through the debris of broken catapults, and gingerly avoiding where the earth smoldered as cooling lava.

The fog parted before them.

Immortals and Infernals clashed in combat, but moved out of their way with perfect timing as if these memories were squeezed aside by the presence of real people.

Fiona wanted to touch something, pick up a sword and fight-help her family somehow. But if this was just a memory from the weeping stones, she couldn’t interact with anything here-and vice versa.

So why, then, was Mr. Ma looking so concerned? He paused and surveyed the battle through the mist and smoke.

A stone’s throw away, Aunt Dallas battled for her life against the Infernal with flaming hair. Her enemy was smaller now, but Dallas fought alone. Every soldier that had been in her group lay in the dirt with throats and arms and chests torn out.

“That is Abaddon, a Destroyer,” Jezebel dryly commented. “A match for any god.”

The Infernal slashed. Her nails scraped down the length of one of Dallas’s swords as she parried. The metal sparked and shattered at the hilt.

Dallas stabbed with the other sword, and penetrated the monster’s heart. It didn’t slow her down.

Abaddon drove her back against jagged rocks, forcing her to her knees. Dallas fought on, tears of rage streaking her face, and would not give up.

The Infernal was going to kill her.

Fiona had to do something.

She glanced back at Mr. Ma, who had his back turned, surveying the far side of the battlefield.

Fiona wasn’t stupid enough to break her promise and run off on her own, but she had to do something.

She knelt, grabbed a fist-sized rock, and threw it.

The stone hit Abaddon on the side of her head and bounced harmlessly off. . but it did connect.

And it got her attention. She turned.

“You shouldn’t have been able to that,” Mitch whispered.

The Infernal turned back to Dallas. . then halted again and cocked her head as if hearing something.

Fiona felt motion in the air-like an arrow’s whistle or a blade just before it cuts.

The woman in bone armor emerged from the mist. Audrey was wide-eyed, long white hair flowing over her shoulders, teeth bared, and holding twin curved daggers of sharpened tooth and tusk.

She slashed at the Infernal so fast, feinting and weaving a razor pattern in the air.

Abaddon hissed fire.

Audrey ducked, rolled, the flames unfurling over her head, and then she bounded forward again- slashing.

The Infernal held out a hand to block.

Her pinkie severed and wriggled upon the ground. She screamed and took three strides backwards. Abaddon glared at her opponent. . then turned and fled into the smoke.

Audrey helped Dallas to her feet.

They hugged-then Audrey wheeled about, staring straight at Fiona.

Mitch stepped next to Fiona, touched her lightly on the shoulder, and whispered, “Don’t move. You hit that Infernal with a rock. . maybe they can interact with us.”

She raised her jawbone visor and stared at Fiona and Mitch, Eliot and Jezebel. Really seeing them.

To witness her mother like this. . Not Audrey Post, but Atropos, a primitive goddess, fighting, full of life and battle lust. It was so unlike the stately woman she thought she knew, and yet so like her mother, all her iron will and inner strength.

Fiona reached out-stopped.

Her mother’s eyes hardened into a cold deadly glare.

Mr. Ma stepped in front of Fiona.

The connection broke.

Audrey shook her head as if clearing a dream and returned to her sister’s side. They joined Uncle Aaron and other Immortals that formed a phalanx against a single Infernal, the mechanical man with bladed arms.

Mr. Ma gave Fiona a look that promised a long lecture about following the meaning of his instructions.

“Observe,” he said, nodding toward the regrouped Immortals. “They work collectively against a superior foe. Alone, the Infernal-even though it has more power-cannot penetrate the formation. This is the one of the key philosophical difference between them.”

The battle slowed.