Part IX

She attaches the black forearm guards and looks at herself in the mirror the next day. She's clad in black and red elven armor, hair bound in dozens upon dozens of tiny braids, then held back from her face by a length of leather.

Well...I guess this is it...

She unsheathes the light blade at her side and examines the ornately decorated hilt and blade before resheathing it and looking back to her reflected image.

I look like something out of a movie...

She sighs softly.

Well...just in case...I should probably try contacting at least Klork.....

She closes her eyes and concentrates, tapping  into the magical reserves Quinlan showed her the basics of. She furrows her brows when she can't feel his mind anywhere.

"Klork...?"

Nothing. She concentrates harder.

"Hey...Klork...? Cat-man?? Anyone home??"

Still nothing.

Ok...don't panic. Maybe you're just not strong enough to break past the boundary...ok....try for someone else...

She reaches for someone else, biting her lip when she finds him with relative ease.

"Logan?"

"Darlin'?"

"Y...yeah...it's me..."

"Woah...what'sa matter? Y'sound like yer about ta cry."

"I...can't contact Klork..."

"Mebbe he's just blockin' yer mind...ya did say ya both needed some time ta yerselves..."

"No...it doesn't feel like he's the one doin' it. I've got a rilly bad feelin' about this..."

"Ok, darlin', where are ya on the mountain?"

"Uhm...I'm not on it any more."

"Wha'...where are ya, darlin'?"

"It's a long story...but there's somethin' I gotta do...I'll call you again if I survive it."

"What?! Darlin', what the hell're you talkin' about?! What'cha get yerself mixed up in?"

"I...I'll have to tell you later...or have Quinlan tell you...I promise I'll telepath you once I'm done, ok? I need a favor though..."

"Damn well better. Whatcha need, darlin'?"

"Bring my sunbird up to that garage I rented? You can take your Harley back with you..."

"Alright...mind if I ask why?"

"I'm gonna go to San Fran once I'm done here. I'll prob'ly get better use outa my sunbird than yer hog."

"Aright...take care o' yerself, darlin'..."

"I'll do my best, dad...you take care, too..."

She sighs softly as the connection is broken, turning to stride out of her room.

An hour later, she stands opposite Edana in a ring reminiscent of the Roman Coliseum, and every spectator seat is filled.

My gods...they musta made a killing from ticket sales...

She pauses in her thoughts.

Agh...bad wording there, Moron...

The elven woman wears white and blue armor, holding a sword much like the one HLM bears. Her long hair is bound in a tight braid that hangs down to her waist.

Quinlan stands at the side-lines, dressed as a mage and holding a power-dampening spell over the arena.

Without warning, the elven woman lunges across the battleground at HLM, her sword aimed for her daughter's heart.

HLM twists out of the way, shoving her mother's blade away with her own. She swings the sword around to slice at the elf's side.

The metallic sound of their weapons clashing repeatedly fills the air as the two dance to and fro along the arena.

"First blood," HLM growls when she scores a deep gash along Edana's shoulder, along the seam of the armor.

Edana glares, deep red staining the pure white armor as she rushes HLM again.

As the hour passes, they both score and receive hits. They both begin tiring in the body, but not in the spirit.

Gotta win this...if Klork needs my help...I must win this...

Edana slices at her midsection and she falls to her knees, doubling over. A groan rises from her hunched shoulders.

The elven woman laughs. "This is for the purity of my Clan's bloodline!" She snarls as she raises her blade. "And for the death of my SON!" She thrusts  it down at HLM's neck.

The young woman turns under her and plunges her weapon into her mother's gut, through the weak point in the armor Quinlan taught her to look for. She jambs it in all the way to the hilt, glaring fiercely into the surprised red-brown eyes.

"You...will...pay..." Edana gurgles, eyes slitted.

"I already have." HLM clenches her jaw as she rips the sword out through the elder woman's side, the elf's hot blood gushing over her daughter.

With a deep breath, the bloodied young woman shoves her mother's body off of her. Slowly, she stands to look around at the stunned faces of the audience. She turns in a slow circle before looking to Quinlan, spattered in gore, every inch of her being aching.

"Can I go home now?"

Within the hour, she's back on the mountain, hurrying down as fast as she can, after messaging Logan to let him know she's ok. She furrows her brow at how dark the sky seems, and pauses to squint up at the stars beginning to peak their way through the darkness.

Wh...why's it so dark? How the hell'd it get so late?!

She pauses and forcibly calms herself down.

Ok...chill out, Moron...time runs differently in Underhill. First you need to get down the mountain, and then you can find out what day it is...gods...I just hope it's not too late....

She starts walking again before shaking her head at herself and murmuring the portal spell her elven father showed her softly under her breath, praying it'll work.

Before her opens a sparkling vortex of silver. She steps through to the foot of the mountain, closing the portal behind her, a little suprised it actually worked. From there it's an outright run to the garage. She opens the door and grips the frame to balance herself when vertigo sets in.

Woah...dizzy...man...ok...no portals cross country...damn...

She stumbles to her car and sheds her outer layer of clothing until she wears only her jeans and a long-sleeved undershirt.

There's a note on the steering wheel.

    "Darlin'-
        Y' take care out there in San Fran. If ya need backup, ya know ta holler, an' I'll be there ASAP.
                                                                                        Love,
                                                                                            Logan
        P.S. Check out the new toys Cyc 'n I added, the pyro in ya is gonna love it."

She chuckles, putting the note aside. A check of the time and date on her charging cell phone tells her it's Sunday evening.

Good...gods...I....

She groans softly as the world spins around her.

...don't feel so good...gotta get to...

A whimper pulls from her throat as her body gives into the exhaustion and slumps over the steering wheel.

...San Fran...

Her eyes close, her mind weakly protesting as her world goes black.

Part VIII
Part X
Otherworldly Comforts Index