“This is when they’ll come,” Eli told Cam. “The Coven will have felt what we did.” She gave him the stone blade, the defender.
He wrapped his hand around the rough hilt and winked at her. “I’ll be careful — this is like, an arm for you, or something, right?”
Eli smiled, making sure to show her set of crocodile teeth. “Would you rather borrow something else?”
“Nope, this just great, thanks. Besides, you never know when you might need to chew your way out of something.”
“They have been very useful,” she teased, smiling wider.
“I’m not sure I want to hear it.”
“I do, but maybe later?” Tav was still shaky.
Eli squeezed their hand. “Don’t die,” she told Cam.
“Haven’t yet.”
Eli could feel the sutures she and Tav had clumsily sewed between worlds, the magic they had used to heal the tear.
Eli’s part in this was done; she had formed a connection between herself and Tav. They could now draw on Eli’s power without touching. They were tied together with blood. Together they had mended the wound. Now it was up to Tav to turn that scab into a door, to resuscitate the human world. To give it new life.
Eli had many powers, but not this one.
This one gift had been granted to a human. A boi with eyes like embers and neon purple hair.
Eli could still feel the warmth from Tav’s arms around her. The weight of their body, the rhythm of their human heartbeat, their breath on Eli’s neck —
“Okay, let’s do this,” she interrupted her own thoughts, afraid of where they might lead.
“Thanks for your permission.” Tav was breathing heavily, their delicate body made of cartilage and keratin struggling under the weight of so much alien power. They were still clutching the obsidian blade, which was and would always be a part of Eli. And now they had shared blood. There was no telling what that would mean.
Tav became a little less human every day. Eli had noticed it in flickers and glances, in the way Tav’s shadow sometimes lagged or their reflection trembled and stuttered in glass windows. Eli wondered if Tav knew. They hadn’t said anything. For better or for worse, there was no going back to their old life.
Tav was glowing with the same light that flowed through Eli. The power of the Heart.
Tav returned the blade to the strap on their left arm. Now was not the time for cutting out the rot. It was time to open a door between worlds, a door that let magic and light and love and hurt flow between celestial bodies.
They closed their eyes and raised their arms. The wind whipped up, ruffling their hair. They didn’t move, even when a strong gust pushed Cam and Eli backward.
Tav entered a trance.
That’s when Eli heard the first cries.
“Vultures,” she said to Cam.
“Birds?”
“Scavengers.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will.”
She grabbed the thorn blade and stabbed it into concrete. She drew a jagged, uneven circle around Tav for protection. Then Eli knelt down and pressed her still-bloody palm against the scar in the pavement. The circle darkened to the colour of dirty blood for a moment and then vanished.
“I hope that holds.” She didn’t say, I wasn’t trained to protect, to heal, to help. I was trained to kill. She no longer needed to switch eyes to see the magic she had used. The spell she had cast was clumsy, like the gaping stitches in a beginner’s embroidery. But it was all she had. Hopefully, when something crossed the threshold that didn’t share her blood, the thorns would strike.
The stones on Cam’s body fell silent.
The vultures were here.
Eli looked up in time to see three great winged beasts bear down on them. She jumped back, drawing pearl and bone.
The first one, scaled and taloned, with a face like an arrow, crashed into the protective barrier and was immediately ensnared by vicious briars. An unearthly wail pierced her ears. She smiled grimly. The barrier had held.
“Cover me!” Eli leapt with superhuman grace and speed onto the back of the wounded vulture. A dozen invisible spines pierced her skin — but her bones were made of granite, and she would not break.
She stabbed the bone blade into the soft spot on the back of the creature’s neck, in between metal spikes and scaled armour. Clear, sticky blood oozed from the wound, smelling of lilac and decomposing leaves. The blood covered her fingers and burned them, leaving her hands covered in boils. Fuck.
Behind her, she heard the scraping sound of metal on rock, and knew that Cam was shielding her from the other two. She hoped the stone blade would work for him. It had been willingly given, but her knives had minds of their own. They were, after all, alive.
But Cam was part stone now, too.
Eli threw herself off the dying creature and spun around. Her hands ached. Vaulting over Cam, she let out a challenging scream and threw her bone blade at one of the remaining vultures. The vulture reared up, extending its wings to their full length — seven or eight feet — casting shadows over all of them. The blade glanced off the metal scales on its belly.
Eli wasn’t done. Without stopping, she flung herself on the outstretched wing, opening her mouth wide and letting crocodile teeth overflow her human jaw. Biting down, she began tearing through the wing. The vulture crowed in rage and pain, and tried to stab her with its face. The arrow-face pierced her shoulder and went clean through, impaling the vulture’s own wing. Furious, the vulture tried to shake her off, but Eli’s teeth were deeply embedded in its wing.
Eli ripped the wing from the vulture.
Screaming, the vulture stumbled back and collapsed, the life bleeding out of it. Eli had slain it.
“Finish
