As we stared—we’d never seen that particular aspect of his magic before—a car screeched into the parking lot behind us. It was the limo, and the driver ran around to yank open the door and help Iris out. She looked tired, and harried, dressed in a warm winter gown the color of deep twilight, with silver stars embroidered on it. Her hair was braided up on her head, and she carried her silver wand with the Aqualine crystal on it. The tattoos on her face were glowing under the night sky, and their filigree gave her a haunted, ancient look even against her smooth, plump skin. We hurried over to her, ready to explain, but she pushed past us before we could say a word, staring at the Fyrun Fae.
“I haven’t seen one of these in such a very long time. They are related to Loki, you know. And to the fire giants. They come from the land of flame, and they feed on everything that will burn.” Her voice was soft. “They are volatile, like all fire-bound creatures. No sudden movements, please. I am bound to the ice, snow, and mist. They will sense me soon enough and it will be war.”
“Are you sure you want to do this? We can find another way…” Delilah knelt down by Iris’s side. “Little Mama, we’re not going to let you hurt yourself.”
Iris straightened her shoulders. “Kitten, step aside. Tonight, I am not Iris the mother, or Iris the house sprite. Tonight, I wear the cloak of Iris, Priestess of Undutar. These creatures, you see, they are my sworn enemies. While the balance is necessary, fire and ice will forever be bound and forever be fighting.”
“What do you need us to do?” I motioned for Delilah to obey. Reluctantly, my sister moved away.
Iris assessed the situation. “I can take them, but not all at once. You must distract at least three of them. Two at a time, my magic can handle.” She paused, looking thoughtful. “Whatever happens, I must not touch them directly. It would be… very bad.”
“We won’t let you get burnt,” Camille said.
“No, that’s not the issue.” She shook her head slowly. “The problem is this: They come from the realm of fire. I am bound to the realm of ice. When both elements are brought together on a mundane level here—such as plunging a sword from the forge into the snow—we work together. But the Fyrun Fae and I are all deeply connected to our primary elements and realms. They, through their very nature. Me, through my goddess. If we touch… well, let’s say this whole city block might be leveled.”
Crap. That wasn’t what we needed to hear. “Um, should we evacuate?”
She shook her head. “No, there is no time. They are hunting now, and if they do not feed soon, they’ll grow restless. The last thing you want are rogue Fyrun Fae running around. Bran—you know enough to be able to help me.” She turned to the son of the Black Unicorn and Raven Mother. “I require your help.”
To our surprise, he snapped to attention, saluting her. “Priestess, I am yours to command.”
“I want you to take Camille—don’t argue, either one of you—and…” Iris stopped as Morio came running up.
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t get here before now. What’s…” His voice drifted off as he took in the situation. “Fucking hell. What do you need?”
Iris cocked her head. “Even better. Morio, I need you to strengthen Camille’s Moon Magic. Camille, I need you to call down the storm in a way you’ve never called it before. We need a gusher. It won’t snuff out their fire, but it will make it harder for them to navigate. Morio, feed her as much energy as you can. Bran? You and Menolly go tempt two of the Fae with wood or whatever you can scrounge up. Use it like a carrot to keep them occupied. Delilah, you and Shade do the same to two of the others. I’ll take care of the one in the middle first. Go. Now.”
And with that, she ordered us into position. Bran and I gathered up armfuls of wood, as did Delilah and Shade, and we spread out, each targeting two of the Fae. If Iris could work on one at a time, it would be safer.
Camille knelt down on the pavement in front of Morio, facing the sky, arms out and head thrown back. He placed his arms on her shoulders and the thick thread of magic that bound them began to weave its way through the night. Like a snake, sinuous and ancient, it coiled around them, the serpent of power, the raw force of the night and of the Moon Mother. Camille needed to make this work, to not have it backfire, because with the Fyrun Fae running around, gods knew what a backlash spell might do.
She began whispering some chant as the energy rode down through Morio, jumping her shoulders, infusing her with the essence and life of the Moon Mother. They worked their powers together, blending them like fine scotch.
As the winds picked up, the sky began to boil and clouds danced in a frenzied swirl. With a crack, lightning split through the night, thunder echoing in its wake. A hail of bullets hit us—rain pounding so hard, so thick and fast, that the wind drove it sideways like stinging pellets. Harsh and wild, it slashed against us, blades of water, and the clouds blotted out any sign of stars or moon that might be peeking through. The only light we had was from the dim streetlamps.
The Fyrun Fae looked confused. They paused, staring up into the sky as if to ascertain from where their attacker was coming. Bran and I moved into position, taunting two of them with long pieces of wood. One raised her finger, pointing at us, and it looked almost as though she was sniffing the air. The other followed her gesture and they began to head our way. On the other side of the Utopia, Delilah and Shade were doing the same.
I glanced over to Iris. She stood there alone, having waved Chase out of the way. Worried, I wanted to run to her, but then I saw it clearly—the outline of energy that surrounded her. Her aura radiated pale blue streaks, infused with the purples and pinks that shadowed glaciers under the aurora-filled sky.
She held up her wand, pointing it at one of the creatures, and in a voice as faint and chiming as bells on the wind, she sang out some incantation in Finnish. I couldn’t understand what it meant, but I could feel the intent.
Within a split second, the Fyrun noticed her and began to run toward her, the slow cautious pace abandoned in a fierce sprint. But Iris pointed her wand and a pale beam of snow and frost burst forth, shooting like a hail of ice pellets, a veil of mist. As it hit the Fyrun woman, we heard a loud sizzle, then a shriek, and like a blow dryer dropped in the bathtub, the creature began to spark, convulsing as the frost laceworked its way over her like a spiderweb. A moment later, the flames flared through the webbing of frost, then exploded. The sparks flickered brightly, then vanished into the night.
I didn’t have time to understand what Iris had managed to do, but the Fyrun Fae had noticed what was going on and they were headed toward her in a fury. Delilah’s two were also turning, ready to aim themselves at our house sprite.
“Fuck, we have to keep them from overwhelming her!” I stared toward one of them but Bran pushed me back.
“Fire can ignite you like dry tinder. Toss that piece of wood to the side. They’ll have to go after it, and it won’t offer much in the way of fuel.” He headed toward the one he’d been taunting.
I raced alongside the Fyrun, finally managing to catch her attention by waving the slatted wood almost within her reach. A moment later, she turned, gazing at me calmly. I tossed the wood, hard, a few yards away. If I threw it too far, she might ignore it.