Cameron Haley - Mob rules

While impressive, all of this was little more than a fleeting image. As soon as the fairies stepped through the gate, they were bound to Honey's nest on the kitchen table. The audible pops as they disappeared were followed by two tiny splashes as the miniaturized elf warriors were dropped unceremoniously into Honey's lagoon. That had been the piskie's idea.

Adan screamed and threw himself at the magical barrier, clawing at it like a wild animal at the bars of its cage. He stilled himself quickly, though, and his look of rage and madness was replaced by one of quiet terror when he saw what I was doing.

I got up from the couch and knelt on the floor before the circle. I set the soul jar in front of me and placed my hand on the lid. Then I lifted my head and locked eyes with Adan. To his credit, I suppose, he didn't beg for his life. He stared back at me defiantly, but the fear still gnawed at the edge of whatever sanity he'd been given when he was made.

"It doesn't matter anymore, lover," he said, his voice a harsh whisper. "You can't change what is happening. The Shining Host of the Seelie Court is coming, and this world will have a new king."

I nodded. "You're probably right. Your death probably wouldn't serve anything. It won't bring back the guys you killed."

"I can be him, Domino. I can be anything you want." The words were soft and seductive.

"So this is really just payback."

I tapped the line and poured juice into the circle and the soul jar. "And your very flesh shall be a great poem," I said. It was more power than I'd ever wielded. I didn't really tap the ley line-I just opened myself to it. The tidal wave of power broke over me, and for a moment I feared the magic would unmake me. The juice gave birth to the ritual, and the ritual slouched toward Adan like a wolf taking a helpless lamb. I couldn't do it exactly the same way the changeling had. The juice was different, and so was the spell. The soul jar came as advertised, though.

When I removed the lid, a black cloud, like thousands of tiny flies, swarmed out of the jar. An insectile droning filled the room, but there were no real insects in the swarm. They were too indistinct, shapeless, like figments of void suspended in the air.

Adan fought. The circle prevented him from using his magic against me, but he could still use it to protect himself. He began to sing in that musical tongue, and a silver glow, like moonlight, surrounded him and held the dark swarm at bay. The song was beautiful, and so was the monster.

His form began to change, slowly at first, but then faster and faster. He was a child, perhaps three years old, Adan as a little boy with curly hair and eyes large enough to swallow the world. He was something ancient and glorious, with leaves and vines woven through the long, straight hair of the elf lords, crowned with the antlers of a great stag. He was an old woman and a young mother, a blood-drenched warrior and a shining prince.

The silver glow pulsed and pressed against the swarm, and the changeling's magic warred with my own. The ritual broke against Adan's will like surf against the rocks, and it retreated, flowing into me, immersing me in juice as cold as space.

Adan's form was again as I had known him. He threw out his arms and his chant rose until it thundered in my ears. He smiled. I felt the life and heat leached from my body as the dark magic inundated me. My sight blurred and narrowed, and I thought I would sink into that cold river forever.

"You really are an asshole, Adan."

I opened myself wholly to the flood of magic, and I fed it with hurt, and betrayal, and loneliness and rage. I spiked it with everything in me that was still human. My body warmed and my vision sharpened. The swarm pressed against Adan's halo of moonlight, and the light dimmed. Then it darkened. Then it was gone.

The swarm moved to Adan and settled around his head. Then it began moving down the length of his body. He fought and screamed as the swarm devoured his flesh. His struggling didn't move me, and my dampening spell swallowed the sound of his death. Whatever he had been, in the end Adan died just like anything else.

When its work was done, the black cloud floated back to the jar and disappeared inside. I replaced the lid and the hellish droning subsided. I collapsed onto the floor and gasped for air as the juice burned through me. Finally, I raised my head and looked at what I had done.

What was left of the thing that had been Adan looked more like petrified wood than human remains. I struggled to my feet and walked slowly over to the body. Adan didn't smell like apples and cinnamon anymore. That wonderful smell hadn't been real, anyway. It had just been the changeling's glamour. Just another lie.

"I'm sorry, Domino," Honey said.

"I told you, we're good. Don't worry about it."

"That's not what I mean."

"I know." I stood there and looked at her. I didn't say anything else and I didn't turn away. Finally, Honey flew to me, perched on my shoulder and wrapped her arms around my neck.

"I can't cry," I whispered.

"I'll do it for you," she said, and I felt her tears on my skin.

After a few moments, Honey disengaged, wiped her face and hovered in the air beside me. "What will you do with it, Domino?"

I didn't have the energy to haul the corpse into the desert and bury it, and I didn't really want to make Anton do it, either. This was my mess. I lifted the body and was astonished at how light it was, despite my exhaustion, as if the remains were little more than a husk or shell. From what Honey had told me, I knew that fairies were really just corporeal spirits. The changeling had been more juice than mass, and now all the juice was in the soul jar.

I carried the corpse across the room and set it down in front of Honey's gate. I went back into the living room, sprawled onto the couch and crossed over into the Between.

Mrs. Dawson was standing in the middle of the room with her hands covering her mouth. She was sobbing quietly.

"It's okay, Mrs. Dawson. Everything is going to be all right. I'm sorry you had to see that. Really, I am."

"You murdered him. Right there, in the middle of my living room. You're a monster."

"Maybe you're right, Mrs. Dawson. But he wasn't human. He killed three of my men and he came here tonight to kill me. I did what I had to do. I'm just sorry it had to happen here."

"It was so horrible."

"You're really not going to like this next part. Maybe you should go into the bedroom for a while." The ghost left the room and closed the door behind her. I could still hear her crying.

I went to the gate, reached through, and pulled the changeling's corpse into the Between. I went to the closet and took a hammer, nails and a box cutter from the toolbox. I dragged Adan's body out into the hallway, stood it up and nailed it to the front door.

This was probably enough of a message for any fairy assholes who stopped by, but I wanted to make sure nothing else would be able to use Honey's gate. I sliced the palm of my hand with the box cutter and incandescent blue juice began to spill from the wound. I used the juice to paint warding sigils on the door frame. I couldn't actually spin the wards in the Between, but I could power them up when I crossed back to my world.

I opened and closed the door a few times to make sure the corpse would remain in place, and then went back inside. There was no sign of Mrs. Dawson. I had a feeling I wouldn't see her for a while. I let the spell unwind and crossed back into my world.

Honey was there, waiting for me to finish the cleanup. "What are we going to do with those guys in my nest?"

"I don't know, Honey. It was your idea to put them there."

"Yeah, but I really didn't think about what to do with them, after."

I went to the closet and replaced the tools, then drew my forty-five from the shoulder holster hanging there. I didn't say anything as I walked to the kitchen. I was thinking about what a forty-five caliber bullet would do to a body that was eight inches tall and change. I was way too tired to spin a spell, though, so the gun would have to do.