The Conqueror’s Fall

Mike stopped at the door to Vincentius's room. He’d expected to find a study, maybe something with a colossal desk and a window that overlooked the outside world, a place where a proper villain could sit and steeple their fingers in quiet contemplation. Instead, it was a large chamber with a flight of stairs that ran along the interior wall up to another floor. It reminded him vaguely of Yuki's old tower, and he wondered if Vinnie and the Shadow had shared a designer.

The chamber was a sitting area with a massive fireplace and an animal skin rug nearby to complete the cliche. Mike moved to see what sort of animal it was. The skin had belonged to the biggest fucking wolf he had ever seen.

"He told us it was a werewolf," Charlotte said. "The alpha of a pack that was hunting him. He forced the alpha to watch as he drained the blood of the entire pack, then killed him before he could turn back into a man."

"Edgelords can be that way." Mike studied the room, then looked up toward the ceiling. The dark veins pulsed overhead, now so tightly bundled that it was clear Vincentius was waiting for them above.

"Okay, everyone. Keep your eyes peeled." Mike looked at Charlotte. "Does old man Vinny have any traps here?"

"Not that I'm aware of," she said. "He typically only comes here to sleep, which he does a lot. It helps him stave off the hunger."

"I hunger no more," said an ominous voice from upstairs. "For my stomach boils with the blood of your precious children."

Charlotte lunged for the stairs, but a mental reprimand from Mike froze her in her tracks.

"He's baiting you," Mike said, raising his voice. "And as everybody here knows, I am the real master--"

Sofia elbowed him in the shoulder, which nearly knocked him over. "No puns," she declared. "We all saw where that was going."

Mike rubbed at his shoulder and winced. "But it was going to be such a great callback," he complained, suddenly aware that the one person who would recognize it was dead. Even then, Nyx wouldn't have appreciated it. Sighing, he looked up the stairs. "Cecilia, can you scout for us?"

The banshee floated up toward the ceiling and briefly disappeared. Her voice drifted down the stairs. "The room is clear," she said.

The group walked up the stairs and entered what looked to be Vincentius' bedroom. A massive, gothic four-poster bed was pushed against the wall. On the ground were the bloodless corpses of a few villagers at the foot of a ladder that went up to the top of the tower.

"No." Charlotte knelt by the bodies, her eyes rimmed red with rage. "They still had so much life ahead of them."

"Their lives are only slightly shorter than your own," Vincentius said, his voice coming from the top of the ladder. Mike looked through the trapdoor up above and could only see the crimson sky.

"What are the odds that he's waiting up there with a sword or whatever?" Mike mimed slashing his own head off. "And he just pops us one at a time?"

"Extremely high," said Sofia. "I could climb up and--"

"No." Mike scowled at her, then looked at Cecilia. "Go the long way and stay invisible. I don't want him stabbing you with Satan's toothpick." If anything could hurt Cecilia, it would absolutely be the Spear of Longinus.

The banshee nodded and moved toward one of the walls before vanishing. Mike looked around the room again to see if there were any other clues as to what to expect.

There was a large, full length mirror propped up by the window. Mike went to look at it and was a little surprised to see that he had no reflection, nor did any of the others. "What's this about?" he asked.

"Vincentius helped trap a demon some time ago," Charlotte replied. "It had to answer his questions. Not long ago, it stopped answering his summons, and he didn't dare go see why. Now the mirror reflects nothing."

Mike shivered at the connection, then moved to a small wooden desk with some journals stacked on it.

"Haven't seen one of these in a spell." Suly kicked the bottom of an iron maiden that was in the corner.

"That's 'cause they stopped selling them," Mike replied. "Made a horrible mess on the...the..."

The Caretaker could only stare in horror at the dim light of a soul, squarely in the middle of the iron maiden. Vincentius was keeping some poor bastard in there. Based on the soul he saw, it was one of the thralls. Why would he do that?

Cecilia reappeared. "He's just standing up there," she said. "Waiting."

Sofia looked at Mike and headed for the ladder. "If he tries something, I'll see it ahead of time," she said.

Cerberus, who had barely fit up the stairwell, sniffed at the narrow opening, then looked at Mike. They transformed back into human form and moved over to the ladder.

"I'll go next," Mike said. "Then Charlotte, and Cerberus."

"What about me, brother?" Sulyvahn frowned.

"Your job is to watch our backs. We don't need any surprises once we're up there." Mike grabbed the rungs and looked up. He decided not to comment on Sofia's lack of underwear, and followed on her heels.

The cyclops paused at the top of the ladder, then yanked herself up and through. Mike immediately followed and found himself standing in a hollowed out spire. The front was open, revealing an elevated platform that looked out over Avalon. Vincentius stood there, clad in black armor and holding what was left of his spear.

This is the evil lair I was expecting, he thought. Charlotte was next through the ladder. Cerberus struggled to climb it, and was nearly to the top when Mike heard the furniture in the room below shift. Cerberus let out a yelp of pain and transformed into their hellhound form, promptly falling back into the room below with a thud.

"What the hell?" Mike looked down the ladder to see that Victoria, now missing a hand, was trying to strangle one of the heads.

Charlotte reacted the quickest, shooting down the ladder just as the opening sealed itself shut. Mike banged on the stone with his fist, then stopped when Vincentius chuckled.

"You have taught me a valuable lesson in hubris," he said as he turned to face them. "I have been a god among men for so long that I had forgotten that even a god could fall to a sharpened blade. I've seen it, you know."

"You're about to see it again," Mike growled as he stood. Next to him, Sofia tensed in anticipation.

"I am well aware that hell-beast is the only thing that can kill me," Vincentius replied.

"Almost had you with Excalibur," Sofia replied.

"If I could just end you, Mike Radley, things would be far simpler. Sadly, I now have need of you more than ever." Vincentius sighed. "You have undone a dynasty in a single night. The only reason you live is that you have pulled that blade from its stone, and have been chosen by God himself."

"Why would that matter?" Mike asked.

"You have been given a divine purpose," Vincentius said, his nostrils flaring. "Chosen by God Himself."

Down below, Mike could hear fighting, but there was no way to easily get back down. "I'm not chosen by anybody," he replied.

"Oh, but you are." Vincentius sniffed at the air and his pupils narrowed. He opened his mouth slightly and licked at his lips. He jerked forward, the air popping with his departure.

Mike had no time to react as Vincentius slammed a palm into his chest, knocking him flat on his butt. Sofia moved to intercept the vampyr, but the man shot back to where he had been standing, his pupils now extremely wide as he held a bloody palm in front of his face.

"The blood of the divine," he whispered, inhaling its aroma. Closing his eyes, he licked Mike's blood from his palm and trembled. "Pure rapture."

"Holy shit," Sofia whispered.

"What is it?" Mike asked.

"Can't you tell?" Sofia let out a laugh. "I've been trying to puzzle out forever why a vampyr was so involved with faith and Christianity. Knowing he's the father of all vampyr made it even stranger, but everything finally clicked just now."

"Please share with the class," Mike muttered as he stood and touched the freshly opened wound on his chest.

"He's a fucking junkie," she said. "Chasing that first high."

"Wait, what?"

Vincentius groaned as he licked the blood from his palms, his tongue exploring every nook and cranny. "Exquisite," he whispered, then sucked on his own finger and moaned.

"Once upon a time, this guy drank some Jesus juice and has been chasing that high ever since?" Mike gesticulated wildly at the vampyr. “Are you fucking serious?”

The cyclops nodded. "Arthur's quest for the holy grail, remember? Jesus was said to have bled in the cup, which means—"

"Oh. My. Gods." Mike stared at the vampyr in both awe and disgust. "Really? That's what this has been about? Were you planning to lick the damned thing out like an empty pudding cup?"

Vincentius closed his eyes and purred contentedly. "When I was but a mortal, I tasted the blood of my enemies," he said. "It was a way to carry them with me, to become their living legacy, to immortalize them with my own bloodline. When a man who claimed to be the son of God was crucified, I punctured his side and drank of his blood as if it were water."

Sofia scowled. "Translate a book enough times and you get some weird passages," she muttered.

"For three days, I continued on as a mortal man," Vincentius replied. "But when Christ rose from his grave, my own life was stolen away from me. No longer did I hunger for food. The only thing that could sate me was the lifeforce of others, lest I wither away. In this manner, I became the living dead, and have walked the Earth ever since, hoping to once again taste the blood of the divine. It was through Arthur's quest that I hoped to not only devour the blood of Jesus once again, but to perhaps even reclaim my humanity."

“How do you figure?”

“I first drank his blood after he died,” the vampyr explained. “Hence my current state. However, the blood in the grail was from when he was alive. They are different.”

"You do realize that's not going to happen through me," Mike replied. "I'm not Jesus. My dad was just a normal guy."

"No. But you are something else." Vincentius licked his lips. "Your blood tastes more similar to his than any I have supped. Perhaps this is because you were born a mortal man, much like the Messiah was. I would see your bloodline continue, and feast on your children forevermore as I rebuild my army here in Avalon. You could be a king here, Mike Radley. You could live forever, and bestow that same blessing on those you wished.

Mike opened his mouth to speak and hesitated. Was there any way he could use this to save Tink or his unborn child?

"Mike?" Sofia's voice trembled. "You're not seriously considering his offer, are you?"

Vincentius grinned at Mike. Dark whispers filled his ears, voices that promised him everything that he desired. Each voice honed in on what was most important to him in this moment until he heard Tink's name over and over in his ears.

Pressure pushed against Mike from each side, and the world visibly dimmed. The darkness that he had seen so much of in Charlotte clung to his skin like oil, its roots all stretching back to where Vincentius stood. He fell to one knee as the voices grew louder, demanding both blood and fealty from him.

Sofia took a step toward Vincentius and Mike snatched her by the wrist.

“Don’t,” he grunted.

“But he’s hurting you!”

Mike winced and glared at the vampyr. Vincentius smirked as he held out a hand.

“Together, we can accomplish the impossible,” he said without moving his lips.

Closing his eyes, Mike pictured Tink. In his heart, he knew that the vampyr’s offer was poison, but desperation could be a powerful thing. Unaware of any other answer to her problems, it was so hard to turn away from a solution that could work, and the darkness knew it.

In his mind, his goblin wife had both hands on her hips and was glaring at him with a raised eyebrow. She tapped her foot impatiently.

“Husband no stupid,” she declared. “Always good. Bad offer. Go beat pointy mouth asshole. Come home.”

Mike’s magic surged, snapping the bands that held him. Baring his teeth, he let out his best impression of a goblin’s growl as the world swam back into focus. Vincentius raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“No deal, discount Dracula.”

Vincentius shook his head. “This happens one way or another. You’ve simply chosen the path where you get nothing.”

There was a popping sound as the vampyr shifted in Mike’s direction. A hand clamped around his neck and lifted him into the air. Sofia stepped to the side and brought Excalibur down on Vincentius’ arm. Her eye flashed, and Mike summoned a magical barrier between her and Vincentius just in time to intercept the spear.

Mike’s shield promptly shattered, his mind now full of psychic glass as he cried out in pain. Clutching at his face, he was just able to see Sofia’s look of disbelief as she stared down at the spear that had pierced her gut.

Gasping, Mike adjusted the trajectory of the shield and summoned it in place along Vincentius’ forearm. The spear point sliced a gash open along the cyclops’s side, but she was alive. Twisting around, her eye glowed again as she brought up Excalibur in a defensive stance.

Mike summoned a shield in front of her, pain racking his whole body as Vincentius shattered it with a clawed hand. He sank his nails into Sofia’s neck and ripped out her throat, then caught the spear that he had dropped.

He couldn’t even call out in defiance of the vision. He adjusted the shield again, this time wrapping it around Vincentius’ arm. While it didn’t shatter, it did cause a massive headache to blossom behind Mike’s eyes as he held the vampyr in place.

“I tire of this,” Vincentius muttered, and gave Mike a shake. Darkness formed along the edge of his vision as the world slowly went out of focus.

“Do…you… give…up?” Mike asked as he slapped uselessly at Vincentius’ wrist.

“Humans never really outgrow childhood,” Vincentius said. “Always so full of false bravado in the face of insurmountable—”

Sofia slid to the other side of Mike and tried to swing up with Excalibur in a surprise attack. Vincentius twisted away so hard that Mike thought his own neck might break. Lifting his legs, he planted them against Vincentius' hips and pushed himself up, which shifted him enough that the darkness in his vision receded.

The vampyr dropped Mike on the ground and stepped forward. Mike immediately summoned the shield again, which triggered another painful vision in which he saw Sofia beheaded. He altered his strategy twice before just summoning the shield under Vincentius' foot, causing his swing to go wide.

"I can't hurt him," Sofia gasped as another series of shifts and pivots resulted in a nasty cut on her arm. "He's too fast."

"We have to keep trying." Mike felt the tower tremble beneath him. If Suly and Cerberus could catch up, then maybe they could find some way to lock Vincentius down.

Sofia managed to get close enough that she helped him off the ground. The phantom pain in his head from the visions was almost unbearable at this point, but he refused to let Sofia die. The moment her eye flashed, he knew she would be dead in less than a moment and threw up another magical barrier out of habit.

"If we don't come up with a strategy soon, it's only a matter of time before one of us slips up," Sofia said to Mike. "My reflexes aren't fast enough to dodge his kills."

"No man is my equal," Vincentius added. "Providence and luck have smiled on you this day, but not for much longer. I have watched entire kingdoms crumble to dust."

"Please don't tell us you can do this all day," Mike replied. "It's not funny when you do it."

Vincentius stared at Mike with dark eyes. "I intend to remove that tongue of yours. It is not needed for you to hunt the grail for me."

"Really? I thought I was just gonna be your blood bank for all eternity."

"That, too." Vincentius drew the sword at his waist and became a blur. Mike moved in front of Sofia, using his own body as a shield along with his magic. The air was hissing and crackling as magical light provided barriers for Vincentius to shatter, triggering more premonitions.

Mike’s world compressed as time unfolded before him. Numerous branches of fate spiraled out from every moment, each one terminating with pain and loss. He watched as Sofia lost limbs, saw her neck broken dozens of times, and even witnessed several outcomes where Excalibur was taken from her and used to turn her into a pile of flesh. He also witnessed variations of fate where Vincentius cracked into her like she was a giant Capri-sun, draining her of life in mere moments.

With each tragedy avoided came a new wound. He had cuts on both arms along with his chin. Sofia was just as bad, bleeding from numerous shallow wounds along her body. The emotional toll of his own suffering combined with visions of Sofia’s death had his world cracked and bleeding on the edges.

Anger didn’t simply churn in his gut. The air was hissing and crackling with magic now as tiny balls of lightning traveled outward from him. When they struck Vincentius, the vampyr didn’t even react as his skin briefly charred to a crisp before repairing itself.

“Such power,” he declared, now moving so quickly that Mike felt like he was looking at after images. The fight was completely defensive. Nothing he or Sofia did seemed to hurt the man. “I look forward to harvesting it.”

Mike didn’t reply. His mind was so exhausted that he couldn’t even process a funny quip to reply with, his entire focus on utterly destroying Vincentius. Golden light clung to his arms as he and Sofia worked as one to keep each other alive, light that was scattered with every drop of his own blood that he lost.

Charlotte? Where are you? He sent his thoughts to the vampyr below, knowing that there was no chance without her.

---

Charlotte gasped as Victoria grabbed her by the ankle and slammed her into the wall, fracturing the stone. Pain radiated through her skull, then faded into the background as the vampyr altered her grip to shove Charlotte’s face into the floor.

Half of the room consisted of melted slag from Cerberus’ flames. The hellhound stood nearby, baring their fangs and unable to breathe fire on Victoria without torching Charlotte as well.

Suly was gone. The dullahan’s head lay nearby, his body now somewhere at the bottom of the stairs. Charlotte could hear a pair of thralls beating it. She wasn’t certain how the dullahan’s body functioned without a head, but if she wasn’t careful, her own would be lost.

Struggling to fight back, she managed to land a blow on Victoria’s jaw. The blonde flinched away, raising her stump to try and block the next attack. Misjudging the distance, Victoria took a slap to the head that spun her like a top.

The world around Charlotte slowed as she moved faster, finally able to properly perceive the world as the others could see it. Moving with the speed and grace of the vampyr required concentration, and she had always been too weak to properly utilize it. Now she and her nest-sister were locked in a brawl that happened in the span of a single breath, both of them exchanging blows that sounded like rocks colliding.

Charlotte was not an experienced fighter. Victoria was, but she was also missing a hand. However, Charlotte’s recent quickening gave her an edge in speed and raw power, allowing her to go toe-to-toe with Victoria.

Victoria pulled a knife from her belt and stuck Charlotte in the gut with it. Grunting, Charlotte folded over, slapping her arms on Victoria’s shoulders.

"Not the first time you've gotten stuck today, is it?" Victoria grinned at Charlotte through bloody teeth.

"Don't be vulgar." Charlotte grunted as Victoria twisted the knife. "Eating your lovers doesn't make you better than me."

"But we are better than them," Victoria replied. She punched Charlotte in the face with her stump. Charlotte was thrown across the room where she crashed against the wall. "Does a human cater to ants? Would you lie in a pile of them and allow them to taste of your flesh?"

"You've always hated me," Charlotte muttered as she pulled the knife from her stomach. "Why?"

"Because you are weak, Charlotte. You were given the opportunity to become part of something amazing, and all you did was cover your head and cry." Victoria wiped a trickle of blood from her nose and licked it off her hand. "The opinion of a sheep should never matter to the shepherd. You played a necessary role, otherwise Father would have cast you out years ago."

"Maybe he should have." Charlotte pointed the knife at Victoria. Up above, she heard very little, but could feel pain through her bond with Mike.

"What exactly did that man do to you?" Victoria asked. "What could he offer you that Vincentius could not."

"Everything."

Victoria shook her head and sighed. "When this is done, I'm going to ask if he'll let me eat you. My hand will regrow far sooner that way."

A blast of fire caught Victoria, driving her into the wall. She shifted away, her burnt and tattered dress falling away to reveal her breasts.

"Bad dog," she snarled, then attacked Cerberus. The hellhound snapped their teeth and almost caught Victoria by the foot, but the vampyr was too fast. She kicked out, striking one of Cerberus' eyes and blinding them.

One head whimpered as another scorched the area with hellfire. Charlotte ducked beneath the flames, then charged at Victoria and stabbed her in the back.

"There's that murderous instinct you always lacked." Victoria spun around and kicked with the heel of her foot. Charlotte slid across the floor toward the solitary window that overlooked the village. "Maybe I should send you to meet your brother. I'm sure the two of you have plenty to talk about, words to share before you hit the bottom. If you do, that is." Victoria looked back at Cerberus, the skin on her torso knitting back together to undo the burns. "Maybe I'll send this bitch down there with you."

Cerberus growled and took a step forward. All six eyes glowed with malevolent energy as the temperature in the room increased.

"Please. I'm too fast for your flames, and you'll kill--"

A bony whip wrapped around Victoria's neck and yanked her backward. Caught off guard, she fell and spun like a cat, landing on her limbs.

"You!" She charged at Sulyvahn, her form becoming a blur as she slid free of the whip, the jagged spine tearing her throat. Cecilia appeared between them, her hair waving wildly as she let out a shriek of rage.

Charlotte's ears popped and the world went silent. Disoriented, Victoria missed her intended target and crashed into the wall. Sulyvahn flicked his whip and managed to snag her free hand as she tried to rise.

Cerberus pounced. It took all of the hellhound’s might to pin Victoria to the floor. Sulyvahn yanked hard on his whip to keep the blonde vampyr's arm pulled tight.

"Now be the time, lass." His features were strained and his voice muffled as only one of Charlotte's eardrums had regenerated. "If'n ye got somethin', ye'd better do it."

Charlotte pounced. She grabbed Victoria's hair and bashed her face into the floor a few times to stun her. The stone floor spiderwebbed with cracks. Victoria tried to move, but Charlotte sat on her nestmate's upper back and clamped her hands down on Victoria's temples.

Screaming, Charlotte's muscles burned as she twisted. Victoria let out a screech of rage as her head slowly rotated until it was facing up toward Charlotte.

"I'll kill you!" she spat. "I'll kill--"

The head completed one rotation, then another. Charlotte grunted with exertion as the others held Victoria down. The skin of her neck stretched like taffy before it finally tore. Ligaments and tendons snapped, then reconnected as Charlotte stood to rip Victoria's head off.

Vampyr were notoriously difficult to kill, but a beheading would work as long as the body stayed separated.

"Whore!' Victoria screamed as the last bit of connecting tissue snapped. Charlotte held the head up by its hair and smiled.

“Say hello to my brother," she said, then threw the head out the window. The body continued to thrash and fight in an attempt to reunite with the head. Cerberus pinned it in place and started eating it.

"Bless us," Sulyvahn moaned as he slumped against a nearby wall and held his stomach. "Those lads downstairs were not kind to me."

"How did you get your head back?" asked Charlotte. She had lost track of him during the brawl.

"My sister." Sulyvahn grinned and pointed at the ceiling as Cecilia appeared in the air. She descended from above with a worried look on her face.

"Mike's in trouble," she said. Charlotte moved to climb the ladder, but it had been destroyed. The stone had been sealed shut with magic, which meant they either needed to force their way through or try to scale the outside of the building.

It also meant they couldn't get Cerberus up there. Two heads were now eating Victoria's leg while the third licked at a wound on their paw.

Even without the hellhound, Charlotte needed to get up there.

"Cerberus." She pointed at the ceiling. "Let me stand on your shoulders."

The third head looked at her, and then seemed to take over the body as the other two heads fought over what was left of Victoria. Charlotte climbed on the hellhound's shoulders and head, but was too far away. Cerberus tried to stand on their hind legs, but one of the legs buckled underneath them and they fell in a heap.

The hellhound growled and gnawed at the offending foot, then whimpered and gave Charlotte a sad look.

"Along the outside it is," Charlotte declared as she hiked up her skirt and headed for the window. She hadn’t climbed anything since she was nine. Hopefully, her body still remembered how to do it.

---

Sofia winced as Vincentius cracked her in the ribs. It felt like her lungs were full of fire right now, but she didn’t have time to process the pain. This fight had only lasted a few seconds, but hours worth of painful and lethal visions had packed her mind for the duration of it.

She was exhausted. Vincentius moved faster than she could, and only Mike’s magical barrier had kept her alive. So many times, she had witnessed her own, unavoidable death only to miraculously survive a fraction of a second later. The air flashed with golden light as energy coalesced into transparent shields that deflected the worst of the vampyr’s blows.

The few times she had been able to see Mike’s face, she had watched his eyes flash much like her own did. Somehow, he was using magic to trigger visions of his own to protect her.

A feeling of hopelessness filled her, though. Wielding perhaps the most famous blade in all of existence, she still hadn’t figured out how to even harm the fucker attacking them.

Worse, Mike had lost his sense of humor. To a rational person, now was not the time for witty quips or puns. But to the people who knew the Caretaker, it meant that Mike had lost all control of the situation. Whether it was anger, desperation, or blind rage, none of these boded well for the future. Even now, the air itself was saturated with Mike’s magic, hissing in response to Sofia’s movements.

Vincentius had some aura of his own, but Sofia could only see it from the corner of her eye. It was a vile darkness that clung to his shadow as he moved. She had watched it manifest in a few of the more violent visions where he had bared his fangs and drained her life away. His whole body had shifted from within, as if the darkness inside of him could no longer be contained.

The vampyr kept trying to squeeze between Mike and Sofia, triggering numerous visions of demise. The cyclops moved in step with the Caretaker, both of them watching each other’s backs. They were covered in sweat, and Sofia’s muscles were starting to cramp. A normal fight usually consisted of moments of intensity followed by periods of rest while the combatants reassessed their options. This one was an onslaught with no time to even catch her breath. Vincentius, on the other hand, looked like he was hardly trying.

She knew this wasn’t true, though. His frustrations had boiled over plenty of times in her visions. Vincentius seemed quite the opposite of Mike at this moment. He was taking things very seriously, only allowing what was left of his humanity to leak through in moments of triumph.

Parrying yet another spear attack, Sofia considered her options. The only potential weakness in this situation that could be exploited was the fact that Vincentius needed Mike alive. But how was she supposed to leverage that?

Mike grunted behind her, the result of the shaft of the broken spear cracking him on the head. They weren’t going to win, not like this.

“Fucker is too fast,” Mike hissed, wiping blood from his forehead. “If I could just get him to hold still…”

Sofia dodged death another dozen times before having her shoulder torn open by the spear. Doing her best to follow Vincentius’ movements, her future unfolded before her. However, this wasn’t a magical vision. No, it was entirely of her own making.

With the current state of things, there would be no future for either of them. At some point, she or Mike would falter, and Vincentius would win. They couldn’t rely on the others to arrive, they had already taken too long. Sofia knew of a way to pin the vampyr down, but it would require the ultimate sacrifice on her part.

The future that unfolded before her now was a beautiful sight. Mike and the others, at home and safe, with his children playing in the yard. In this vision, Mike cradled a tiny green baby in his arms as Grace stared at the child from the ground. Callisto, Yuki, and Kisa played tag in the yard beneath Abella’s watchful eye as the child laughed. Flowers sprouted throughout the yard, all of them tended by centaurs.

The only thing missing was Sofia. Her absence would leave an easily filled hole, one that someone would eventually step into. Maybe Eulalie would find her way and take over the Library, or perhaps someone else would. None of that really mattered, though. All Sofia could do was stare at this vision with tears in her eye as she desperately wished she could be a part of it.

“I wish it could have been different,” she said, making sure Mike could hear her. “But I am grateful to have loved you for the short time that we’ve had together. Make this count.”

“What?” Mike turned in her direction, and she hip-checked him away as Vincentius darted in. Her mind split with dozens of possibilities, different ways that she would die, but there was one in particular that she was hoping for. Parrying the first blow with Excalibur, she awkwardly angled the blade so that when Vincentius rammed the spear into her stomach, she was able to sheathe the sword between the bones of his forearm.

“SOFIA!” Mike’s scream rattled her to the core, but she couldn’t concentrate on that. As Vincentius tried to withdraw his hand, she twisted Excalibur enough to lock it in place and held on tight, forcing him to drag her body around.

“Bitch!” he hissed, extending his free hand to gouge out her eye. Flooded with visions of her own demise, Sofia simply let out a soft breath and held still, waiting for the end.

Thunder deafened her as Mike’s magic surged forward, becoming a bolt of lightning that danced across Vincentius’ face. He let go of the spear and shoved Sofia to the ground so hard that Excalibur slipped from her grasp. Electricity crackled across the vampyr’s face, scorching grooves into his ancient flesh. Nearby, hands extended, Mike vented his rage with a banshee’s scream, his voice echoing out over the valley.

Sofia couldn’t move. All she could do was clutch the wound in her belly.

Vincentius fell to one knee and clutched at his eyes, which had melted shut. Mike’s own eyes were lit from within by golden light as he raised his hand toward Vincentius as if to claw his face. Instead, Mike howled with fury as he grabbed something that Sofia couldn’t see and pulled.

The sky above seemed to turn purple as Mike yanked something back. It looked like a tiny diamond, scattering light as if sparkling beneath the sun. Dark tendrils wrapped around it tried desperately to pull it back into the vampyr’s chest. Vincentius had gone rigid, his back arched as if in agony.

“DON’T YOU TOUCH HER!” Mike screamed as he used both hands to rip the sparkling gem away. Vincentius shuddered violently, then had a seizure at vampyr speed, his body becoming a blur as Excalibur was thrown away from him, where it clattered against a distant crenulation.

The Caretaker was no longer looking at the vampyr. Instead, he contemplated the bright light in his hands. The mysterious object cast ominous shadows along Mike’s face, casting him in a sinister light.

“No more,” he declared as thunder rumbled. Dark magic stretched away from Vincentius, then formed into hands that reached for Mike. He tried to step away, then nearly fell when the shadows latched onto his arms and legs. Sofia couldn’t tell if the hands were going for Mike or the thing in his hands.

The Caretaker wrestled with the darkness until he fell on the ground. During the struggle, the hands latched onto the light in his hands, and both sides pulled.

When the mysterious light tore in half, a ripple of energy billowed outward in a mighty wind that ruffled Sofia’s ponytail. On the breeze, she could hear echoes of a man screaming as if from far away.

Vincentius cried out then went still. The man was standing, but had bent over backward until his head nearly touched the ground. After a long moment of silence, the vampyr slowly stood erect, his bones popping as he did so. When his head finally rolled forward, it was to reveal the sharp bones of his skull pressed tightly against the skin of his face.

“I’m free,” he giggled, his eyes still melted shut. “I’m free! There’s nothing to hold me back anymore! I—”

With the ringing of steel, Charlotte stepped past Vincentius and took his head with Excalibur. The vampyr’s body lunged for her, but she shifted and brought the blade down, severing first one arm and then the other. Stumbling around, the corpse took off at a dead run. Charlotte casually sliced the torso free as Vincentius’ legs ran over the side of the tower to plummet into the void below.

“Sofia!” Mike knelt by the cyclops’ side, his hands on hers. “No, no, no.”

“It isn’t that bad,” she lied. “You have a job to do.”

“I don’t want it!” he cried.

Nearby, Vincentius’ head chuckled. There was just enough of its throat left to make a wet, shucking sound. Cecilia hovered up through the floor, her mouth open as she sang a song of mourning. Picking up Vincentius’ head, she stopped singing and blew a fat raspberry at it before tossing it over the side. The man’s arms were squirming around like snakes, most likely trying to reconnect with the body. Black tendrils that looked like leeches had sprung free and were groping the ground.

“Don’t let those touch you,” Charlotte said as she stabbed one arm with Excalibur and scraped it off the side of the tower. Cecilia, who was unaffected by the vampyr’s magic, picked up the other one and tossed it.

“Why?” Mike asked as he knelt by Sofia again.

“Did we win?” she asked with a grin.

“This isn’t winning,” he replied.

“Any future where you live is a winner to me.”

“Roll her on her side,” Charlotte said. Sofia grunted as Mike obeyed, then felt pressure along her spine. The head of the spear clattered to the ground.

“Aren’t you supposed to leave that in?” Mike asked.

Charlotte shook her head. “Vincentius knows to twirl the head once inside to do maximum…damage.” Her eyes softened as she considered the cyclops. “The spear fell out on its own.”

“Tell me she’ll be okay,” Mike begged.

“We should get her inside,” Charlotte replied, then used Excalibur to cut a hole in the stone. “There’s no need to stand here any longer.”

Sofia couldn’t help but notice that Mike refused to take his eyes off of her. She wanted to hold onto that feeling of being wanted for as long as she could. As cold as her legs already felt, she knew it wouldn’t be for very long.

---

The Caretaker limped down the stairs and threw the black leather cuirass into the center of Vincentius' bedroom. He had removed the cuirass from Vincentius’ torso before allowing Cerberus to eat the vampyr’s remains. It felt weird using the hellhound as a vampyr disposal, but they really didn’t seem to mind. He had debated tossing the remains over the side of the tower, but didn’t need to learn in a few decades that the asshole had eventually come back to life while falling down a bottomless pit.

The cuirass landed between a pair of dead thralls on the floor. Their bloodless skin was torn in several places. He studied the corpses for a moment to make sure they weren’t about to come back to life and jump him, then moved next to the armor.

"Work," he commanded, giving the cuirass a kick. "Open up. Let us out."

"Maybe the mirror has already opened," Sofia rasped, holding her stomach. Charlotte helped the cyclops lie down on the bed, then moved to the nearest window. She shoved it open, revealing a gargoyle with a bird-like face.

"I need clean bandages from my room," she said. "Also, please send word to the villagers that the false Caretaker is dead."

"I don't work for you," the gargoyle huffed.

Mike fixed the gargoyle with a glare that made the creature flinch. "I don't care who you work for. Right now, you are making a choice between being a decent fucking person or pissing off a man who has bested the underworld, defeated devils, and is best friends with the motherfucking Grim Reaper."

There was a loud thud outside the window, and a stony foot kicked the gargoyle out of the way. Slade appeared, shaking his head in disappointment.

"You'll have to forgive him. Has pea-gravel for brains." Slade looked at the vampyr. "I'm at your command."

"I require my healing bag and extra gauze for Sofia." Charlotte sat next to the cyclops and used her hands to maintain pressure on the compress. "And please find somebody to pass word that the false Caretaker has fallen."

"As you wish." Slade bowed his head while kicking the now unseen gargoyle one more time, then took flight.

"Mike." Sofia coughed, blood now dotting her chin.

"Save your strength," he said, speaking softly to her, then looked at Charlotte. "Would turning her save her life?"

Charlotte shook her head. "It most likely would, but then she would be cursed to this existence."

"Wouldn't be a...curse with...you." Sofia grinned and reached for him. "Have to...ask. What... happened to..."

Mike sat by Sofia and took her hand. He looked at the others, then turned his eyes back toward Sofia. "You want to know what you saw?"

She nodded.

Mike bit his lip and closed his eyes. "Something terrible," he admitted.

"Sometimes, terrible is necessary," Charlotte said.

Cecilia, who hovered nearby, shook her head. "This was different," she said.

"You killed Vincentius with your magic." Charlotte looked confused. "I'm uncertain what I'm missing."

Sulyvahn sat nearby on the bed. Cerberus, back in human form, had curled up on the floor as if to take a nap. The dullahan lifted his legs to avoid disturbing the hellhound, then turned and spoke. "My sister and I can see the souls of the dead," he explained. "So we saw what actually happened."

Charlotte frowned. "You did kill him, right?"

Mike snorted. Even now, he could picture the threads of darkness that had unfurled in panic as he reached through them, his magic curling around the lone remnant of a spark that had resided in Vincentius' chest. Even after two thousand years of undeath, it had glimmered like a diamond in the sun's light.

"I tore out his soul," Mike said, the nerves in that arm still tingling. He remembered what had happened to Ratu when he had gently tugged on her soul, and had been trying to do the same to Vincenius. Things had gone too far, though. "He was impossibly fast and strong, but his soul was weak like tissue paper. It was all that remained of his humanity, and I removed it." Mike shivered at the memory.

For just a moment, he had held another man's soul in his hands. Powerful magic had thrummed up his arms like electricity, burning him from the inside out as he held eternity in his hands.

Then, the darkness that lingered in Vincentius' shell had come for him, desperate for a host. During the fight to protect himself, that tissue paper soul had torn cleanly in half. A very human scream had echoed in Mike's head as he fought off the darkness, unaware that Vincentius' body was still very much active. If not for Charlotte’s arrival, things would have gone very different.

"What do you think happened to him?" he asked Sulyvahn.

"Oblivion," Cecilia replied instead.

Sulyvahn nodded. "We don't know for sure where souls go when they move on, but they can be damaged or destroyed. You destroyed him, brother. No eternal salvation or torment for that one. To the void with 'im. Non-existence."

Mike swallowed the lump in his throat and looked at his hand. His magic purred deep beneath the surface of his skin, seemingly content. He didn't like what that could mean. At the time, all he could think about was saving Sofia, no matter what the cost. The idea of losing someone else…

He shuddered. So what would the cost be? His hand trembled as he stuck it in a pocket. Today more than ever, the magic had felt like it had a will of its own. Was it just a manifestation of his desires, or something else entirely?

“I can’t change what I did,” Mike said. “And right now, we need to focus on what comes next. I’m fairly certain this armor is tied to the Conqueror title.” Now that it was removed from Vincentius’ corpse, he got a strange sense of longing from it. He picked the armor up in his hands and gave it a shake. It was hard like metal, yet had the soft feel of leather to it.

“Hey,” he said. “I know you’re in there. We need to talk. I want out of this hellhole. So level me up or whatever.”

In the center of the cuirass, an eyelid opened. Mike flinched, but didn’t drop the piece. There didn’t seem to be any malevolence in the orb. Instead, he detected curiosity and something else.

It was fatigue. Whatever intelligence lay behind that solitary eye was tired. But why?

“Hey, great. You’re up. I killed Vincentius. All hail me. Now how do I make it so that I can leave Avalon? I need to get home.”

The eye blinked at him, then looked around at the others. It stopped on Sofia. After a few moments, it looked back in his direction.

“Can you at least understand me?” Mike asked.

The eye blinked once.

“Oh, good. A magic eight ball with only two answers. Do you know how to leave this place?”

One blink.

“Can you do it?”

Two blinks.

“Fuck!” Mike stood and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. He couldn’t concentrate right now. What time was it on Earth? Did the Fae already have Grace?

Cecilia knelt to inspect the armor. “Does he need to do it?” she asked, pointing at Mike.

Two blinks.

“Was it Vincentius?” she asked.

Two blinks.

Sofia groaned and turned to look at the armor. “Is the person who can do it in this room?” she asked.

One blink.

“What the hell?” Mike picked up the armor and pointed it at Charlotte. “Is it her?”

The vampyr maintained compression on Sofia’s wound while looking at the armor. “It says no.”

Mike pointed the armor at everyone in turn, and the eyeball blinked twice each time. His anger surged, and he fought the urge to jam his thumb into the eye and see how squishy it was. Instead, he set the armor on the ground and glared at it.

“That was everyone in here,” he said through his teeth.

Two blinks.

Mike replayed everything in his head. He had pointed at everybody, right? Even Cerberus had been included.

The eye looked at Mike, then dropped and focused on something behind him. He turned to see what it was looking at.

It was the iron maiden. Inside, he could see the dim pulsing of a weak, fragile human soul. It was the thrall he had noticed earlier. However, the dark threads that had connected it to Vincentius had been severed.

“Who’s in there?” Mike asked Charlotte.

“No idea,” she replied. “I’ve only been in this room a couple of times, and have never thought about it. I figured that’s where he put people who displeased him.”

An iron maiden was a coffin-like construct packed with nails that bit into its occupant. What even could a thrall do that would warrant such a punishment? Weren’t they completely obedient?

As he took a step toward the iron maiden, the eyeball blinked rapidly. Inside the iron maiden, the soul pulsated gently like a beating heart. Mike examined the outside of the contraption, unsure how best to proceed. Latches on the outside of the device were locked in place by antique padlocks.

Mike grabbed the locks and gave them a yank. When they didn’t budge, he scowled.

“Open,” he commanded. The locks all clicked and came loose. It took him a bit to pull them free because some corrosion on the latches had warped them enough that it was tricky to pull them off. He was about to yank the last one off when Suly tapped his shoulder.

“Ye might be needin’ this,” he said, then handed Mike Excalibur.

Mike looked at the sword, then put his hand on the flat of the blade and pushed it back. “I’d feel better knowing that you’ve got my back,” he said.

Sulyvahn nodded, a thin smile tugging at his lips. “Aye.”

With the final lock undone, the iron maiden let out a metallic shriek as unoiled hinges were forced to shift. It took both hands to push the door open, revealing a shriveled figure inside, its body dotted with puncture wounds. The floor of the iron maiden was stained black by blood that had dried many years ago.

The figure opened one eye briefly, struggling to keep it open before it slammed shut. Mike couldn’t even tell if he was looking at a man or a woman. The figure inside reminded him of the dying alien from the movie Cocoon. Their skin was severely wrinkled, and their eyes and mouth were the only discernible features. Scraggly bits of hair clung to the top of their scalp as well as part of their face. It was most likely a man.

“That thrall has not been cared for,” Charlotte said from the bed.

“Indeed.” Mike moved to help the thrall out, but realized the spikes from the back of the iron maiden were sunk into their flesh. Frowning, he doubted he could pull the person out without killing them. Looking down at the armor, he tilted his head toward the thrall. “They can let me out?”

The eye blinked three times.

“That doesn’t help me,” Mike muttered as the figure let out a gasp, both eyes fluttering open. Struggling to breathe, the thrall yanked their arm free of impalement and raised it as if to shake hands.

The thrall’s soul was weak, their body on the edge of collapse. Knowing that the man was likely to die without Vincentius, Mike took the man’s hand.

“You’re safe now,” he said.

The thrall’s eyes opened wide, the sclera yellow and cracked in places. The hand gripping Mike’s tightened like a vice, and the Caretaker felt himself yanked off balance as he tumbled forward and felt his body slam into a chair.

They were no longer in Vincentius’ tower. Instead, he sat in a chair made of marble on the grassy slope of a vast estate that resembled his home. Before him was a gameboard, far more intricate than he had ever seen. The scene itself resembled a castle, and the pieces resembled those who had come to Avalon with him. With a thought, he was able to zoom out of the board and could see that the villagers and many gargoyles were also pieces that now belonged to him.

At his side, marble pedestals with other boards could be seen. His home, the greenhouse, the cabin, and even the island. Right now, he could see Grace and Beth in what appeared to be a discussion, frozen in time for his perusal.

“You are the Caretaker.” The voice that spoke was strong and had a thick accent. Mike looked up from his board to see a figure sitting across from him wearing thick leathers and sitting astride an iron clad horse. This man stood in a blood-stained field adorned with similar marble pillars, each one holding an empty game board. If Mike had to guess, there were easily hundreds.

Before the man on the horse was a shattered gameboard on which only a single piece could be seen. It was the iron maiden itself.

“You are the Conqueror,” Mike said, realizing that the thrall himself was the true player of the game, not Vincentius. The man had pretended to be the Caretaker, after all. Why not another player as well?

“I am,” the man said as he slid free of his horse. “The chosen of the god of war himself. Well met.”

Mike stood to clasp hands with the man, not entirely sure what to expect. He looked past him at the shattered gameboards. “What happened?”

“Walk with me.” The man turned toward the bloody field behind him. Mike followed him out onto the grass, pausing to stare at a pile of dust on one of the gameboards.

“My soldiers,” the man commented. “Dead now for many years.”

“You had a lot of pieces.”

The warrior nodded. “I did. For many years, it was feared that I would conquer the entire world. If things had been different, I may have done just that. A unified world, beneath my rule.”

“That’s too much responsibility for just one person,” Mike replied.

The warrior shrugged. “It’s a matter of perspective,” he said. “I was just trying to win the Great Game. Uniting all the tribes and ruling was just an added bonus. It’s likely I would have succeeded, too. That is, until I met the vampyr.”

The two walked in silence as a phantom battle played out before them. Vampyr, numbering in the dozens, descended on a camp during the night and silently took out the soldiers on watch. Vincentius, clad in black, walked through the camp with a smug look on his face as he entered the tent in the middle.

The scene flipped like a picture book, and Mike was now inside the tent. Terrified women had scrambled away from a bed made of furs where Vincentius and the warrior fought.

“I was outmatched,” the warrior said with sadness. “Of all the things I had ever battled, I simply couldn’t expect to face a being such as him.”

The battle came to a close when Vincentius pinned the warrior to the ground and sank his fangs into the exposed flesh of his neck. Outside, the alarm had barely been raised, some warriors stumbling sleepily from their tents to join a fight that had already ended.

“Did he want the title of Conqueror for himself?” Mike asked.

The warrior snorted. “Not truly. My success made him believe that I had been chosen by the divine to unite the world, much like Arthur had. He was hoping I could lead him to the grail. Until that time, he would feed on my lifeforce and the lifeforce of the children I sired for him.”

“It was all about the grail, then.” Mike noted right away that this was the exact same plan that Vincentius had for him.

“It was only ever about the grail.” The Conqueror frowned. “Though when Vincentius learned of my own magical abilities, he desired them for himself. The Conqueror is able to stitch together the lands they control like an old woman mending socks. He took me to the locations of his own conquests and had me build this refuge for him, this wretched island.

“But the magic came at a cost. You see, I have not conquered these places, not truly. This is the world of the Fae, a land of chaos built on a bedrock of absolute truths. It did not take kindly to the Conqueror being a thrall to someone else. Thus, the pit was created.”

“Where does it go?” Mike asked.

The Conqueror shook his head. “I don’t think it goes anywhere. But do you know what I think it is? Have you ever been drifting off to sleep, and envisioned stepping off rock or sliding free of your horse? In just that moment, your soul finds it and feels that eternal drop.”

Mike wasn’t sure if the man just had an over-active imagination or if he was onto something. “Has anything ever come out of it?”

“No.” The Conqueror started walking again, and they were back in the field. All around them, the grass was wilting. “I had quite the kingdom once. All who knew my name spoke it with reverence or fear. Yet now all that is left is dust.”

Mike frowned. On one hand, the Caretaker wanted to help the guy because he seemed like a decent man. On the other hand, the guy’s title was the Conqueror. If he could somehow be freed and recover, what sort of problems would he cause?

The Conqueror chuckled. “There is no reverence in your eyes. I can sense your fear.”

“Can you blame me?”

“No.” The man shook his head. “But yours is a different world than mine. You may not see the value of solidarity as I do. Even if I were to bring it to its knees, then what? Conquering the world on horseback is easy. It is dismounting and governing that is hard.”

Mike noticed that the sky was now overcast. In the distance, the fields were crumbling to ash. He looked back to his side of this vision and saw his estate was as lush as ever.

“You’re dying,” he said.

“That I am.” The Conqueror chuckled. “I am no longer being sustained by my captor. After all these years of being forced to serve a man who only sought personal gain, I can finally be at rest. I am glad to have met you, Caretaker, to have taken your measure.”

“You’ve hardly taken my measure,” Mike replied.

“I see kindness in your eyes. I would rather see a kind man forced to make hard decisions than an evil one. One who carries the burden of guilt is more likely to be careful about where he sets it down.” The Conqueror smiled. “I used to think that a man’s greatest joy was in crushing his enemies. But I believe you have found a better way.”

Mike nodded.

“I have a request for you.” The Conqueror touched the cuirass he was wearing, a mirror image of the one in real life. “When I pass, it is likely that you will inherit my title. I believe you worthy, as does the god who possesses my armor.”

“I don’t want your title,” Mike said.

“I know.” The man suddenly seemed sad. “But I believe there will come a time when you may need to lean on it. War is coming. What little remains of my blood sings for it. The Great Game was created to buy time to save this world from those who would devour it. The gods have been hidden away to mask their scent from the Others. But they will come. When they do, you must be ready.”

“What do you want of me?” asked Mike.

“Do not let me die a slow death,” the Conqueror replied. “I ask that you slay me. Set right the magic of Avalon, then take my power and free yourselves from this place. Become a true Conqueror, not just a false one.”

“I wish to conquer nothing,” Mike replied.

“I took the easy path and chose to conquer the world. But you have conquered hearts. You have conquered fear, and dangerous beings who would harm others. The path you have walked is difficult, but perhaps the one most worth conquering. The Caretaker you shall remain, until time and circumstance requires otherwise. Then a Conqueror you shall be.”

Unsure what to say, Mike could only look at the man. Realizing who he was, he bowed his head. “You should know that the world may be different, but your name is still spoken. You are remembered.”

“Being remembered is nice,” Genghis Khan replied. His side of the world was now obscured by a distant fog that robbed the land of its remaining vitality. It swept in around them, robbing the Conqueror of his color. “Yet there is no good in anything until it is finished. I failed in my task. It is my hope that you will not fail in yours.”

Mike blinked and he was back in the tower, the thrall no longer clutching his hand. The Conqueror struggled to breathe as the light faded from his eyes.

“Give me Excalibur,” Mike said, holding his other hand back. Sulyvahn obeyed with a questioning look.

The Caretaker placed Excalibur in the Conqueror’s hand. The man’s grip tightened on the pommel of the sword.

“You shall not die unarmed,” Mike said. The Conqueror nodded silently, then struggled to raise the blade to defend himself.

Mike took a deep breath and sang the dirge of the banshee, his magic softly prying the Conqueror's soul from his body like a loose gemstone in a ring. The sudden shock to the system was enough to kill him, and his body went slack with a relieved sigh. Mike held the Conqueror’s soul in his hand, then turned to Suly.

“Can you or Cecilia hold onto him until we’re back?” he asked. “Then she can help him move on.”

“Aye.” Sulyvahn took the soul and tucked it into a pocket. “It be easy enough, for he goes willingly.”

“Thank you.” Mike pried Excalibur from the corpse and turned back to the window to see that Slade was back with bandages. “How is she?”

“Not great,” said Charlotte.

Sofia grinned weakly. “It looks worse than it is,” she lied.

Mike looked down at the cuirass on the floor. The eye was studying him.

“You can show me how to do this?” he asked. “To open the mirror and let us go home.”

The eye blinked once. Mike knelt down to pick up the chest plate and slid it over his head. The straps shifted and adjusted, then molded to his body over the nagahide.

“About time ye put on a proper shirt, lad.” Sulyvahn grinned. “Now the ladies can proper concentrate.”

Cecilia smacked her brother. Mike ran his hands across the armor, and closed his eyes.

You in there? he thought.

I am, the god replied.

Which god of war are you? he asked.

Does it really matter? The voice sounded tired. This land and its occupants are yours by right. Manifest your will, Caretaker, then leave me be. Unlocking this place is no difficult task.

Zero points for friendliness, Mike thought back.

I have been a slave for too long. I have forgotten the thrill of battle and the pride of conquest. I was never meant to exist like this.

Yeah, well this is how conquered people feel. Mike scowled. Consider it a learning experience.

There was a period of silence from the armor, and then Mike felt his soul connect with it. He could feel Avalon around him, along with the overlapping castles. They had been clumsily assembled, much like video game assets spawned almost right on top of each other. Throughout its halls, thralls were wandering listlessly, some of them collapsing now that their vampyr was dead.

In the distance, Mike felt the mental equivalent of a knot. He concentrated on it, memorizing its structure. Right now, it was configured to let people in, but not out. With a gentle twist, he flipped its function. Now anyone could leave, but nobody could enter. The last thing he wanted was for some random asshole to come wandering in.

He sent a mental ping in Kisa’s direction, but got nothing from his familiar. It would be easier to do once he was back on Earth. Satisfied that his escape was secure, he moved to Sofia’s side and knelt beside her.

“What can I do for you?” he asked.

“Live,” she replied. “Make sure my sacrifice wasn’t in vain.”

“You’re not dying,” he said, careful to avoid the look Charlotte gave him. “I won’t allow it.”

Sofia raised a hand and placed it against his cheek. Her skin was cold to the touch. “I am,” she said. “But it’s okay. Nobody is meant to live forever. I think you realize that. It’s one of the reasons I love you.”

Mike’s heart skipped a beat, and he clutched her hand tight. “This is different,” he said. “You’re dying because you were hurt. This isn’t a natural death, Sofia. You have plenty of life still ahead of you.”

“I’ve lived more with you in the past few days than I have the last several decades. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” She winced and closed her eye. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to keep our bet.”

“Fuck the bet. Stay with me. With us.” His heart was racing now. He hadn’t realized just how far gone she already was. Sofia had hidden it from him so that he could concentrate on what needed to be done. “You have plenty of life yet to live.”

“That would have been nice.” A tear slid down Sofia’s cheek. “We had quite the adventure, didn’t we?”

“I—” Mike felt a surge of magic from behind and turned to see that Cecilia had opened her mouth to sing. “Don’t,” he commanded.

The banshee smiled sadly and shook her head. “It is time, mo stór. We should sing her to rest.”

Mike felt the world crumble around him, his hands shaking. He had come here in order to save Tink and his child, and was now faced with the prospect of losing someone else. Sofia’s soul was glowing brightly, like a miniature star inside of her chest as it prepared to leave.

Panicked, he looked at his hands, then at the bandages wrapped around Sofia’s belly. Pushing Charlotte away, he slid his hands beneath the bandages until he could feel the ragged wound across Sofia’s stomach. He didn’t even want to think about what internal organs he currently touched.

“Close,” he commanded. “Seal. Shut. Stick.”

“Mike.” Charlotte put a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it away.

“Why won’t you work?” he demanded, focusing on the magic inside of his body. “You’re always lurking, waiting to fulfill my every desire. Well, this is my desire! I want her to live!” He was shouting now, his voice echoing off the walls. “There’s always a price, right? I will fucking give you up entirely if I have to!”

Squeezing his eyes shut, he felt that swirling mass in his stomach, eager to obey. Golden light pulsated along his body, then spread down his arms.

“Now close! Heal! Heal! HEAL!”

Magical energy ripped free of his hands, causing him to cry out in pain. Wounds he had sustained throughout the day that had already healed on him reopened as magic poured from his palms, illuminating Sofia in light made of gold and crimson. The cyclops gasped, opening her eye and staring in awe at the ceiling as her back arched. Mike’s hands slipped free of her body as he collapsed, caught by Charlotte before he could hit the floor. The bloody bandages tumbled to the ground, soaking the stone with blood.

Sofia sat up and put a hand to her stomach, which was no longer scarred. She stared in wonder at Mike, who was now shaking on the floor. Pain racked his body, and Charlotte grabbed fresh bandages from nearby and started wrapping his wounds.

“I didn’t know you were hurt this much,” she said.

“I’m a fast healer,” he said through chattering teeth, his body cold. “Think my…magic is…depleted.”

Sofia slid off the bed and wrapped her arms around him in a warm embrace. The cyclops didn’t say anything. Sulyvahn brought over a blanket, which was wrapped around both of them.

“I’ll keep you warm,” she whispered. “You shouldn’t have done that, Mike. You needed your magic to get home and save Grace.”

“You were worth it,” he replied. “And in case it’s worth hearing, I love you, too.”

The cyclops squeezed him so hard that he actually let out a squeak. She let out a contented sigh, then placed a hand on her stomach.

“Are you sure I didn’t die?” she asked.

“You’re still with me,” he said. “And while I’d love to sit here with you some more, the way is open. We need to get back.”

“Yes.” Sofia looked past him at Slade. “The gargoyles. Could they carry us to the exit?”

Slade made a face. “I think so. It would take two of us per person. You may be too heavy, though.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Charlotte said. “I need to organize my people.”

“And I can help,” said Sofia. “Mike, you should take Cerberus with you for protection. Suly and Cecilia can help you with the Fae.”

“Will you be okay here?” Mike asked.

Sofia nodded. “Administrative tasks are my specialty. Between myself and Charlotte, we can have everyone ready for the next steps in under a day.” The cyclops paused. “Which will be four days on your side. Do you think you can figure out how to alter the flow of time here?”

“Yeah, I’ll add manipulating time and space to the list while on my gargoyle tour of Avalon.” Mike snorted. “I’ll send a message through Bat Radio once I get there.”

“Bat radio?” Charlotte asked.

“I’m still workshopping it.” Mike and the others moved toward the stairs. The gargoyles would have an easier time picking them up there. “See you soon.”

“You’d better,” both Sofia and Charlotte said at once.

A small group of gargoyles was waiting for them outside the tower. Mike went first. Slade and another gargoyle grabbed him under the arms as Cecilia clung to his neck and went weightless. As they flew together, Mike studied the island from the sky. The strange forest around the village already seemed to be dying off, as if someone had sprayed industrial plant killer on everything.

It was almost an hour before they got to the small island where the mirror was. Mike had to hand off Excalibur to a third gargoyle who wasn’t carrying anybody because his hand got tired. After a short wait, the group was together again as they descended the stairs. Once at the mirror, it took Mike a few minutes of messing around with the armor before he triggered whatever mechanism controlled who could leave. He sent Charlotte a mental ping and stepped through it.

They moved at a clipped pace together through the subterranean hallway until they reached the stairs. Mike took the steps two at a time until they were back in the castle proper. Upon stepping out into the ruins of Machnaimh Abbey, he paused to look at the spectral figures that surrounded them.

Hundreds of spirits stared at him with hollow eyes, their faces gaunt and unpleasant to gaze upon. Mike approached the nearest group, curious why they barred his way. It wasn’t until he noticed that many of the ghosts were standing with their heads slightly cocked to reveal a pair of puncture wounds in their neck. Others bore wounds similar to a wild animal’s attack. A few were mangled messes.

“Do ye be thinkin’ they’ll fight us on the way out?” Sulyvahn asked, coiling his whip to strike.

“No,” Mike replied. “They’re not here to fight. The spirits were never trying to protect Vincentius. They were trying to keep us from finding the mirror. They knew what our fate would be if we went inside. It was an attempt to protect us.”

A few of the ghosts nodded, their eyes unblinking. It reminded him of his daughter.

He stopped a few feet away from the spirits. They were waiting for closure, and he was more than happy to give it to them. “I have slain him,” he said. “Vincentius, the first of his kind, is no more. Your descendants will be given better lives, ones where they are free to choose. No longer will your children be raised to be cattle. I have seen to it.”

The spirits studied Mike for several long moments as the temperature in the room dropped. Cerberus moved to his side and snuggled against him for warmth. After a few more tense moments, a sense of relief filled the room as each ghost was slowly bathed in a light that Mike could only see reflected on their spectral forms. The wailing of several different banshees filled the room, their songs carrying their long-lost family members to their rest.

“My sisters,” Cecilia said with a warm smile. “They’ve been waiting many years for this.” She, too, opened her mouth to sing, and Mike joined in. Together, they walked through the Castle of Reflections toward the exit, singing restless spirits to the other side.

It was evening by the time they emerged from the castle, the waters of the lake lapping quietly at its sandy shores. Mike was about to get in the boat when a rat’s head popped up, startling him.

“Caretaker?” it asked. A few more rats appeared, their tails twitching in excitement. “You have returned.”

“I have,” he said. “Is there somewhere that can take me home?”

The rats nodded, then led him and the others to a different spot on the beach. There, a small lean-to had been constructed, one that barely qualified as a structure. The rodents began nibbling at the fabric of reality, the portal mostly completed. It only took a few minutes, and then there was a rush of air from across the world.

“Thank you,” Mike said as he and the others stepped through the portal and into the laundry room of his house. He tossed Excalibur in the gap between the dryer and the wall. The rats promptly collapsed the portal behind him as the group stepped into the hall.

“Hello?” he called. By the time he made it to the living room, Zel was there waiting for him. She slammed herself against him, her hooved feet slipping on the wooden floor. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Waiting for you,” Yuki replied from a nearby doorway. The kitsune walked inside. “Beth and the others left about two hours ago. The trial, or whatever they want to call it, has already begun.”

He nodded. “Then I should figure out how to join them.”

“Please,” Zel whispered into his chest. “Please go speak to your son.”

“Callisto? What’s wrong?” Mike pushed Zel back just enough to look into her face. The centaur’s eyes were bloodshot, and it was clear she had been crying.

“I know it’s too much to ask of me,” she whispered. “With the Fae going after Grace and all, but please. Mike, if you’ve ever loved me, please talk to our child.”

“What did they do to my son?” he demanded, the air suddenly saturated with magic.

“He’s okay,” Yuki added, seeing his distress. “Physically.”

“We’ll figure out the fastest course to the Court,” Suly said, placing a hand on Mike’s shoulder. “Go talk to yer boy. Let us help.”

Mike took a deep breath and let it out. He reminded himself that he trusted Beth as he let Zel guide him to the office. There, in the corner of the room, his son was huddled up on the floor, hugging himself.

“Dad?” he asked, his voice weak, as if daring not to hope.

“I’m back,” he said, racing to kneel by his son.

“You need to help Grace,” Callisto whispered.

“I need to help you, first,” Mike replied, putting a hand on his son’s cheek. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“If I do, you’ll…” Callisto cried hysterically, snot running down his face. It took several minutes to calm the child. Zel brought Mike the slap bracelet so that he could change Callisto into a human, allowing him to pick up the boy and cradle him to his chest. There was so much pain and anguish in those tears that Mike felt his own eyes welling up.

When Callisto finally gathered the courage to speak, something deep inside of Mike shifted at his words.

“If I tell you, you’ll stop loving me,” Callisto whimpered.

“Never,” Mike swore, hugging his son. “I will never stop loving you. You are a child, Callisto. It’s your job to make mistakes, then learn and grow from them with my help afterward. Nothing you can do will cause me to stop loving you. Now tell me what happened so that I can help you grow from it.”

Wiping his eyes, Callisto shared his tale. As the story spilled from his lips, a storm gathered over the Radley house. Thunder rumbled as the clouds cracked apart up above, but no lightning struck the ground, as if afraid to draw the Caretaker’s ire.

When the conversation was over, Mike swallowed his wrath so that his eyes would only show kindness. His child didn’t need to see anger, only love.

“My son.” He hugged Callisto close. “This is important, so make sure you hear every word in that big, beautiful brain of yours. What happened to you is inexcusable. You got caught up in a pissing match with beings who have lived for untold millenia. How were you supposed to handle any of this? Nobody in their right mind would expect you to!”

“But the tribe—”

“No,” Mike said, squeezing his child. “The tribe is wrong. They are hurting like you are, and their pain is misplaced. If Beth can make things right, then they’ll see that eventually.”

“What if she can’t?”

“Then I’ll be here to help.” He smoothed his son’s hair. “I’ve been through a similar experience. We can heal together.”

“Even if…” Callisto sniffled. “What if they kill Grace?”

Mike frowned, and his eyelid twitched. He wanted to tell Callisto that wouldn’t happen, but he couldn’t guarantee anything.

“What happens to Grace will also fall on the Fae,” Mike replied. “And should they make such a choice, well…” He swallowed the lump in his throat, hearing Vincentius’ scream in his ears. “I don’t want to think about what I would do. But it still wouldn’t be your fault. Okay?”

“You need to go,” his son whispered.

“Only when you’re ready,” Mike replied.

Callisto wiped his eyes with his own shirt, then nodded and pushed Mike away. “Go,” he said. “We can talk more tomorrow.”

By now, Ratu and Yuki were standing in the doorway, the kitsune with her arms around Zel. All had tears in their eyes.

“Okay, pal. I’m going to go, then. If you need me when I get back, tell someone, okay? I’ll make all the time in the world for you.”

Callisto nodded, then reluctantly released his father. Mike stood and turned toward the women. Ratu handed Mike a pad of legal paper she had been holding.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Beth’s potential strategies, as well as damages requested,” Ratu replied. “Thought you might want to know what she’s planning.”

Mike scanned the paper, then nodded. “Are Cecilia and Sulyvahn back yet?”

“No. But I suspect they won’t be too long.” Ratu looked at Yuki. “We stayed here to protect the house.”

“The house will be fine,” Mike replied as he turned the pages on the legal pad and found a pen. “I need your help,” he said as he started writing.

“With what?”

“Beth’s got some great ideas, but they’re not enough. Not for what they’ve done to us. To the tribe.” He didn’t look up at the women as he continued writing. “The plan is two-fold. One of you needs to go get Quetzalli while the other gets these.” He ripped the list free and handed it over. “Yuki will probably be the fastest. Oh, and I need Reggie, too. Left something back in Avalon that I want him to grab for me.”

“Oh?” Yuki took the paper and studied it for a moment. “Yeah, I can get most of this pretty fast.”

Ratu looked over at the list, her lips curling into smirk. “And I can get the rest after I find Quetzalli. So what’s the other half of the plan?”

Mike felt fire in his belly as he met her eyes.

“I’ll need your help making an entrance.”