Tales of the Ice Harpy from Glacia

After the debacle of Agio (and the even more debacle-y aftermath), Karla had promised to keep Saetan, Lucivar, and Morton apprised of major events at Fandom. She might often interpret that promise as conveniently as possible, but there was no way that even she could spin the end of all creation as something other that a 'major event.' Which was why two months after reality had been repaired, she was standing in Saetan's office, telling them what had happened in stark and painful detail. Of course, since what had happened had affected all of Kaeleer, even if they didn't know it, Karla was not delivering her report to Saetan alone, or even Saetan and Lucivar. No, Jaenelle and several members of the coven and the boyos had all crowded in, too, and were listening to her clustered in the chairs at the back of his office.

It could have been worse. There might not have been a Kaeleer to return back to. Or the split between her and Warren could have been permanent, leaving her to stand in front of the High Lord's great blackwood desk alone while spilling out the story. It was comforting, having him beside her, so she could reach out and hold his hand for comfort at a few parts.

Karla had done all of the speaking up until this point, laying out all of what had happened in sparse detail. They had heard the entirety of the account, all the way up to remembering the universe back into existence without interrupting, but she didn't think that silence was going to last for very long, not as her story wound down to an end. From the shifting behind her and the faces that Saetan and Lucivar had made at various points in her tale, once she stopped talking, she was going to face a torrent of words.

( Most of them probably invectives. At least from Lucivar. )

[Preplayed with the wonderful not_a_parakeet. TBC in comments. Apologies, was supposed to be up yesterday (and completed), but I sort of failed at availability this week.]

The meeting took place after dark. For all that the Hall was filled with dark power that had seeped into its very stones, it was still easier for the demon-dead to arrive after the sun had set. Several bottles of yarbarah were already warming--this might be a war council, but Mrs. Beale would never allow Mephis, Prothvar, and Andulvar to go without refreshment.

( All war councils need tea and cookies )

[Establishy, unless them that are there wish to talk to people! NFB.]

Most people would argue that the beginning of December was a stupid time for a picnic. Of course, most people hadn’t grown up in Glacia. So when Warren had shown up at her dorm room, picnic basket in hand and crooked grin on his face to invite her out, Karla hadn’t given thought to the calendar before she’d agreed. A bit of bundling, a few warming spells and they were off on an adventure!

( Pity they were going to get more of an adventure than they were hoping for. )

[Establishy! NFI, but totally FB. Preplayed with the amazing not_a_parakeet who rocks my world.]

The bright red, neon light of Fangtasia was a bizarre sight in the parking lot of the otherwise drab strip mall. At the door, as usual, was a tall, elegant vampire in black, looking bored.

( we’re off to see the wizard! or eric. one of those. )

[NFI, NFB, OOC is better than TruBlood! Pam is courtesy of trickydemigod, natch, and Eric once again comes to us courtesy of momslilassassin! Follows after here, here, and here.]

It had been a long day, even though she'd slept through half of it. Karla was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, and wanted little more than to just curl up and fall asleep again. Though that 'little more' encompassed a lot. She wanted to go home to Fandom and curl up with Warren--at least, if he wasn't too angry or upset with her. How soon until the portal arrived? Karla needed some time away.
( Warren wasn't angry. )

[Part one of two. Alphabet soup goes here.]

Lucivar felt his shield quiver. It was about to go down again. Cassidy and Morton might be able to put up another one after his came down, but what was the point? They both still wore their Birthright Jewels and those were light Jewels at that. Under the constant onslaught of the Jhinka, they'd have another two, maybe two and a half hours before their Jewels were drained, too.

Even if Aaron and the others showed up now, it was doubtful they'd be able to do much to turn the tide of the battle. Six thousand Jhinka, even lacking Craft as they did, were just too damn many.

No, better to save their strength. Maybe between the combined strength of all of Karla's friends, they'd be able to escape.

He spared a thought for the young male, Ender, who'd had a plan that might hopefully get them out of all this. Idly, he wondered if it would have worked, indeed, if it could work still. If he would have a chance of pulling it off before Lucivar's Craft failed, if he could somehow pull it off at all.

Maybe. Still, it was a slim thread to rest all their hopes on. Lucivar couldn't rely on 'maybes,' not when his Queen's life was at stake.

"Morton," he called. ( 'Ask Jaenelle and Karla to join me here.' )

[And we are done--though just for the night! NFI, NFB, OOC is golden. Warning in place for death of an NPC and ultraviolence. Text taken, spindled, mutilated, and folded into origami cranes from Anne Bishop's Heir to the Blood, Chapter Thirteen. Preplayed with rockstars, yo. Plot post masterlist found here.

Also, that long ping about Jaenelle being even prettier now? Straight from the text. Oh, Anne Bishop. Why you so crazy?]

The situation, as haltingly described by both Karla and Lucivar, was dire. Even with Karla and Jaenelle restricting their Craft to the most life-threatening of injuries, there were still a double-handful or more upstairs who were in immediate danger, in addition to the hundreds below who were still grievously wounded. Six thousand Jhinka were outside, willing to fling themselves at the shield and certain death, simply to wear away at it and bring it crashing down.

Lucivar was wearing his Birthright Red Jewels, the Ebon-gray drained almost to the point of shattering, and the reservoir in the Red was precipitously low, too. Karla's Sapphire no longer glowed with its usual inner light; she barely had enough Craft left to light a candle.

Food had run out the day before. The well had dried up that morning. Anything edible that the three of them had carried with them was long since devoured.

And still the psychic witch storm howled on outside, cutting them off from communicating with anyone.

( More help would arrive in hours, but honestly? They didn't have that long. )

(continued directly from here.)

( And still they ran )

[Warnings in place for explicit violence and potentially disturbing imagery. NFI, NFB, OOC=love. Text adapted from Chapter Thirteen of Heir to the Shadows. In that nothing like this entry ever happened in the book. List of previous entries can be found here.]

(Cont. from here)

( Wherein they learn what really happened to Karla. )

Lucivar lay on his back in the young grass, his hands behind his head, his wings spread out to dry after the quick dip in the spring-fed pool. Jaenelle and Karla were still splashing about in the cold water, washing the sweat and dirt out of their long hair. He closed his eyes and groaned contentedly as the sun slowly warmed and loosened tight muscles.

Yesterday, they'd awakened just before dawn to find Jaenelle busily rummaging through the food pack. He'd put together a hasty meal while Karla had broken down the camp before the physical tension produced by the drugs forced Jaenelle to move.

It hadn't been the unrelenting drive of the previous days, and, as the day'd worn on, physical tension gave way to emotional storms. Anger would flood her suddenly, then turn to tears. He'd given her space as she raged and swore. Karla had held her while she cried. When the storm passed, she'd been fine for a little while, perhaps as long as twenty minutes. They'd walked at an easy pace, stopping to pick wild berries or rest near a stream. Karla'd kept them entertained with stories of her crazy school and the friends who were like no Blood males or females they'd ever met. Then the cycle would start over, each time with a little less intensity.

It had still been grueling, mind. The first outburst of emotion had hit around noon, the second, a little before three. In between them, there was still the constant movement, the difficult trek made even moreso by the unforgiving pace Jaenelle had set. The intervals had shortened as Jaenelle's body tired, but even their last stretch before making camp for the night had been an hour-long hike, most of it uphill.

Which made today's late start, with the chance to sleep in past sunrise and even bathe a bit, something akin to paradisaical. Smoke was off doing a bit of hunting; the wolf had scented a herd of elk and had gone off to explore. When he came back, Lucivar was thinking of sending him back to the Keep to tell Saetan that they were all right, that Karla was with them, and that they'd be coming home from Askavi in a few more days.

Not that he was going to say anything, but he was proud of Karla. The pace was wearing on her, but she refused to complain and did her best to keep up. She wouldn't know it, but Jaenelle was slowing down a bit for her, making sure Karla didn't get outdistanced. Lucivar was grateful for anything that made Jaenelle take it a little easier. ( Though the next time the little witch cheated him out of the last mug of coffee, he was going to dunk her into the nearest lake. )

[NFI, NFB, OOC is delicious. Warning for violence. Text adapted from Chapter Thirteen of Anne Bishop's Heir to the Shadows. All of her narrative is awesome and I never said anything to the contrary. Really. Part 5 of plot (Parts one, two, three, and four). Up early because I have a problem I AM REALLY BUSY TOMORROW, OKAY?]