Jane Godman - Otherworld Protector

Those thoughts took seconds to flash through his mind as he and Stella walked toward the exit. The two sidhe police officers remained in place, blocking their path. A family with young children was just behind them.

Cal was unconvinced about the concept of fate. He had met the three goddesses who sat at their spindles spinning the threads of human destiny. His opinion of their motives and effectiveness wasn’t high. Perhaps it was because they were condemned to a dull, lonely spinster’s life for all eternity, but, in his many centuries of experience, he had discovered that they enjoyed making mortals suffer. Cal was of the school of thought that believed people made their own destiny. It helped if, like him, one wasn’t mortal, in which case the influence of the goddesses was hugely reduced. At that precise moment, however, he could have kissed one, or even all three, of the ancient crones. Because, for once, they chose to intervene at exactly the right moment.

As Cal and Stella got within a few feet of the exit, the mechanized doors swung inward. This startled the two sidhes, who had been standing with their backs against the panels. One of them began to protest, but the words died on his lips as three real police officers strode into the hall and paused just inside, looking around. Cal could tell they were genuine law enforcement officers. For one thing they were as tall as him. And none of them could, by any stretch of the imagination, be described as pretty.

“...reports of a commotion down here,” one of the officers was saying to his companion. He barely glanced at the sidhes. “Probably nothing, but the sergeant wants it checked out.”

“Come on.” Not waiting to hear any more, Cal dragged Stella with him, past the police officers, through the doors and into the arrivals hall.

He should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. Freedom, and the opportunity to lose themselves on a bus or train or in a taxi, was just yards away. As they made their way past the crowds waiting at the luggage carousels, Cal could feel dozens of eyes following them. He was willing to bet that most of those eyes bore a fiery ring around the outer edge of their irises. Sure enough, as soon as he moved toward the set of doors that would lead them to the outside world, a crowd of passengers—each of them predictably short in stature—moved into place, barring their way.

Cal slowed in his stride, casting around himself for something—anything—that would help them escape. To one side of the arrivals hall there was an official motor cart. It had been hooked up to an electric charging station.

“What are you doing?” Stella cast a look over her shoulder. “They are coming through. We need to make a run for it or we’ll be surrounded.”

He threw a quick glance behind him and caught a glimpse of colorful ponchos and pink tutus. Hauling Stella with him, he made for the vehicle.

“Jump in.” Even though the look she gave him was one of pure horror, he was profoundly glad when she did as he asked. He unplugged the vehicle from its charging dock and squeezed into the seat next to her. His knees came up almost to his chin in the cramped space.

“You’re going to have to supercharge this thing to get it past that lot.” Her eyes were huge and very dark green as she nodded in the direction of the doors, where the sidhes were now converging, waiting for them. There were a few anticipatory grins cast their way.

“I knew you were a girl after my own heart.” Cal grinned down at her. “Hold tight.”

“Hold tight?” Her expression was incredulous. “You don’t seriously think this thing is going faster than we can walk, do you?”

Cal didn’t reply. Instead, he focused his attention on the connection his foot made with the cart’s pedal. Summoning all his supernatural energy—now was not the time to screw things up—he intoned slowly and forcefully, “Onettan. Swiftnes.” The machine lurched, its electrical engine whirring loudly. He exhaled a sigh of pure relief as it raced across the tiled floor, gathering speed as it went.

“Cal, did you just tell this thing to go fast?” The cart was practically flying now, its tires burning rubber as it hurtled toward the sidhes. Stella lurched against him in the confined space. “And—my God, I can’t believe I’m actually going to ask this—did it understand you?”

“No. It’s only working through me. If I take my foot off the pedal, it will go back to the way it was.” All around them, sidhes were diving out of the way of the speeding machine. “Once we’re through the doors, get ready to jump.”

The automatic doors opened as the luggage cart approached, and Cal had time to assimilate the surprised faces of several taxi drivers on the pavement as they charged through the gap and out into the open air.

“Now!” He dived off one side and saw Stella go the other way. The cart made a startled whirring noise and ground to a halt in the middle of the road, causing a minibus to swerve around it. Leaping to his feet, Cal grabbed Stella’s hand. “You okay?”

She nodded and they broke into a run. Cal decided that making for the train or bus station within the airport complex would be too dangerous. Better to get away from the area completely and find another way into the transport system.

The pavement sloped away from the airport building and they were close to a multistory parking ramp when the two sidhes disguised as police officers emerged from its entrance. Cal looked over his shoulder. If they turned back, the dozens of sidhes in the arrivals hall would be waiting for them.

He stopped. The sidhes were mere feet away. Twin smiles lit their fiery eyes. They took several steps closer.

Cal raised his hand. “Fýrwylm.”

Flames shot from his fingertips toward the sidhes, showering them with sparks. Their smiles disappeared and were replaced by wary looks.

“That the best you’ve got, galdre ?” Although the sidhe licked his lips nervously, he took a step closer.

“No. He’s got me.” Stella placed her hand over Cal’s. “What do I need to do?”

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, grinning down at Stella. “Think with me. Match your thoughts to mine.”

He could see the concentration on her face. Her brow furrowed with the effort. Then he felt it. A surge of power, like a jolt of electricity, pulsed through Cal’s body. This time when he raised his hand, together with Stella’s, the bolt from his fingertips resembled a flamethrower. He had known she would be strong, but this was beyond even his expectations.

“Fýrwylm.” Stella repeated the word he had used, and the flames burned even brighter. Muttering, the sidhes shrank back. “What language am I speaking?”

“Anglo-Saxon, the oldest form of the English language.” Cal led her forward, clearing their way by spreading a circle of fire ahead of them.

“How do you say bastard ?”

Cal started to laugh. “It was the same word then that it is now. Or you can say dóc , which means illegitimate mongrel.” He didn’t add that he’d been called that himself a time or two over the centuries. Usually by Moncoya.

“Okay. Fýrwylm , you sidhe bastards.”

There were shouts now from the airport building and the sound of sirens. The two sidhe police officers had disappeared.

“Time to go.” Cal urged Stella into a run again. There was no way he wanted to have to explain what was going on to a genuine police officer.

“Did I really just do that?” Stella held her hand in front of her face, studying it as she ran.

“You did.” He looked back to see police cars and fire engines converging on the multistory parking ramp.

“What else can I do?”