Snow ✓

Epilogue

Her head was so loud. Elsie opened her eyes to chaos—the iridescent lights coupled with the painfully-blue sky were too bright, stanched only by the occasional starbird who stepped over her, attention diverted; everyone was shouting as guards dashed between the controls and a mob congregated on one side of the room. The only eyes that looked her way were the dead ones.

She tried to raise her head from the floor, but the dried blood had fastened her cheek to the marble. Heavy in their sockets, her eyes roved over those pushing and shoving against the wall. The frenzy parted when the fire demon got an arm loose and warped a hand around the nearest neck. The pyro's face warped with a pained anger as the crowd began sticking him with all things sharp.

It was a cardinal rule that her soldiers not blemish her things without her permission, the cattle prods their only liberty; they must truly think her dead.

More than a dozen feet away, the mutt-man writhed on the floor, caught between human and bestial form, also forgotten. A syringe lay discarded beside him.

She ripped her face from the floor as a starbird yanked back the demon's head and another placed a dagger at his throat.

"Stop," she wheezed, laced with a pain so severe it made her eyes roll.

Using her gut muscles, she eased herself into a sitting position, then leveraged her legs under her and pushed up into a standing position, all the while cursing her dress.

A specter rising in the tails of their eyes, a few starbirds turned, mouths agape at their mangled mistress. The others were nudged by their comrades until the room stilled, the only sounds the beeping of the abandoned monitors and the gurgling of the mutt-man.

As if remembering himself, a guard looked around then rushed over to assist her, when no one else volunteered.

"Don't touch me."

The mob parted to make way as she approached the demon at her own tottering pace. Slumped against the wall, he panted, metal boiling in his body but not escaping as quickly as when they had had their intimate one-on-one sessions. And yet, the monster managed a gnarled smile, just for her.

"The she-bitch lives."

She temporarily forgot herself and moved to grab him with her broken wrists and gave a sharp cry at the sudden pain. Steadying herself, she stepped in front of the first starbird who tried to push past her to throttle the demon.

She started as a wizened hand gently touched her broken wrist.

"Daughter."

Elsie looked up into her own tired eyes set in a wrinkled face, that of a man she had flung through the sky door nearly twenty orbits ago. As if he had appeared in thin air, there were audible gasps, a few curses, and many took a wide step back.

He took her hands in his and she felt the pain start to subside, watched the rough skin heal.

Realization dawned on the demon. "Ah, a rotten tree bears rotten fruit."

"Allow me," the sorcerer said kindly to Elsie, then applied a hand to the demon's face, and, this time, it was he who burned, screaming in agony.