CHAPTER 9 – ANGELINE

“That psycho, mermaid bitch,” Angeline shouted, throwing her hands up as soon as they reached the room.

Kyle cringed and shut the door behind them. “I think she’s more Viking than mermaid. But either way, she probably heard that.”

“So what if she heard? She fucking deserves it. She’s never even served in the field, she has no idea what it’s like. I doubt she could kill an Elf even if it were passed out cold.”

“Really? How’s she even a Master?”

“Politics probably,” Angeline said, pacing back and forth in the space of the small room, boots scraping furiously over the ragged brick floor. “She’s powerful, at least when it comes to parlor tricks, but she’s never used her skills for anything practical as far as I know. She could have done so much good for The Realm, but she’d rather stay holed up in the Castle like a Diviner.” Angeline rubbed her jaw trying to sooth the pain shooting up through her tense neck. “She’s the only damn Mage I’ve ever seen that can teleport objects. You know how goddamn useful that would be on the battle field?”

“Extremely.”

“Right. But she’s fucking selfish,” she said, voice shaking with rage. “She’d rather just sit back and give the rest of us shit, you know, those of us actually going out and risking our lives, watching people die all around us.”

“Sounds like most world leaders,” Kyle said, laughing a little through the grimace on his face.

The stabbing heat in Angeline’s chest flared. “Exactly. It’s fucking bullshit. I can’t take this, I—“

“Come here,” Kyle said, gently pulling her arm. He guided her to the edge of the bed and sat her down.

She ripped her arm out of his grasp and tried to get back up.

He stuck his arm across her legs and widened his eyes, wordlessly commanding her to stay put. “Let’s chill for a second. You aren’t wrong, that woman’s a witch with a capital B. Even Master Pallas gets it. But if you let yourself get worked up, she wins.”

Angeline huffed and crossed her arms, clutching at the oily blackness percolating in her stomach. “You don’t get it,” she said through tightly clenched teeth. “You don’t know how hard it is to be Captain. Every goddamn choice I make is the wrong one. People like Merlena, they’re all too happy to sit back and criticize, smug as shit. I have to be in control of everything, at all times. Do you know how fucking exhausting that is?”

Kyle rose to his feet and pointed at the bed. “Stay here.”

He was out the door before she could protest.

She slapped her hands on the scratchy blanket and grunted in frustration. Whatever. Not like she wanted to leave the room anyway. Risk running into Merlena and her stupid blue eyebrows? No thanks. That friggen hag was so insecure with herself that she had to match her hair to her amulet, just so everyone would know she was the top Mage. What was her problem? Taking out her own short comings on actual Mages… disgusting.

Angeline punched the bed again then flopped over and buried her face in the pillows. She let out a primal scream into the pillowcase and gripped the blanket in her fists. Actual Mages. Like she could count herself among that group right now. As pissed as she was at that blue hag, she was more pissed at herself. She was so stupid to take off her amulet. Now she was powerless.

Her soldiers sometimes lost their amulets, or on a very rare occasion, broke them, but with the death rate what it was, they were usually issued the amulet of a fallen comrade the same day. The Castle wasn’t involved in these exchanges, nor would they care. But to be a Captain and have hers broken in the field. To have to beg for a new one…

But now that Elves were stealing amulets, magic was going to be a lot harder to replace. Yet another weight pulling her backwards, further and further from victory. How the hell was she supposed to hold it together? She flipped onto her back and stared up at the imperfections on the corroded, stone ceiling, letting her mind go blank.

The door swung open jolting Angeline out of her daze.

Kyle stepped back into the room, rucksack slung over his shoulder, a smile on his face. He shut the door and sauntered over to the edge of the bed. He lazily slid the bag off his shoulder and extracted a loaf of bread, two large brown bottles, and a beautiful slab of something golden.

“Is that butter?” Angeline said, momentarily shoving aside humanity’s impending plight as she sat up and gawked in awe.

“I thought you’d be more excited about these,” Kyle said, handing her a bottle. “I was a bit disappointed they couldn’t whip me up a Mai Tai--”

“Butter, and bread, and beer?” she said, popping out the stopper and taking a generous gulp. “I take back everything I ever said about you,” she teased.

“Well. Not everything. You can keep the bit about my precious bod and all the talk about my ass.”

“I’m going to drink this until you’re actually funny,” she said, taking another sip. She couldn’t help but smile with the bubbles dancing on her tongue, the relaxing effect already beginning to roll down her tired muscles. She couldn’t remember the last time she just kicked back with a cold one. Probably last time she took leave, which was over a year ago. Even then, she never could unwind entirely, not on either side of The Veil, not anymore.

“Can we just pretend nothing exists outside this room?” she sighed, taking another sip.

“I think I can do that,” he said, cocking a sly smirk. “I have a very vivid imagination.” He flipped a knife out of his armband and started slicing the bread.

Angeline resisted the urge to snatch the bread away, she didn’t really feel like eating traces of Elf blood. She could have merely asked him not to cut their dinner with his monster-slaying knives, but she knew she’d never hear the end of it, and bickering was the last thing she wanted to do. She just needed to relax, to let go.

“So,” he said, buttering a thick slice and handing it to her, “what are the rules of this newly formed alternate dimension?”

“No Elves,” she said, talking through the massive bite. “No boots,” she kicked off her shoes, letting them fall to the floor.

“I like it,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “No pants?”

“Pants are allowed.”

“But not mandatory?”

“Nothing is mandatory here,” she said, washing down the slice and reaching for another.

“Oh, straight-laced Captain gonna be okay without rules?”

“Hah. Straight-laced. If only you knew me before The Veil,” she said. “You wouldn’t even recognize me.”

“Try me.”

“You would have liked me better,” she said, flicking her eyes to the ceiling. “Total free spirit, like you.”

“Really,” he said, a look of surprise dancing across his handsome face. “For the record, I like you plenty, Captain. Probably more than you like yourself.”

“I liked old me better,” she said, shrugging as she took another gulp.

“Tell me more about her then.”

“She was an art instructor,” she said, smiling. “At a non-profit. And a vegetarian.”

“Oh a vegetarian huh? How exotic,” he winked. “So what caused the grand metamorphosis?”

“Setting that warehouse on fire.”

“I think you’re missing a few chapters. You gonna tell me why you burned down that warehouse? I know you said you were drunk, but in my experience most people don’t down a couple pints and pick up a blow torch.”

She stared at the half empty bottle in her hand, a stabbing feeling rocking in her gut. “I just lost control,” she said, unwelcome tears brimming in her lashes.

 “That happens once in a while,” he said, voice heavy. “I know how that shit stings.”

“This wasn’t ‘once in a while’,” she said, voice beginning to tremble as the memories floated to the surface. “I spiraled for over a year. Bad shit.”

“Nothing leaves the walls of this room. It stays in this universe,” he shrugged, “if you feel like spilling.” He looked her firmly in the eye. “NO pressure.”

Angeline swallowed. She wasn’t sure why, but she had to tell him. Not just someone. Him. “Okay, I’ll tell you, but nothing leaves this universe.”