Brenden flipped through a newspaper as the group rode towards Hyde Park. Alice seemed a little upset about something, but Brenden had no idea what, so he hadn't said anything yet.
Presently, Alice produced a small envelope, and handed it to Brenden. He noticed that her hand was shaking slightly, so, as he took it, he held her hand for just a moment. ``What is it, dear?''
``This must have come in the post yesterday,'' she said, in a quiet voice. ``It was there this morning.''
He opened the envelope, and removed its contents. There was a small card of good paper, with a thin red border. Hand calligraphed on the card was:
We will be delighted to attend your wedding.
--V.M.
``Ah, good,'' said Brenden.
Alice's face looked as though Brenden had just recited the Lord's Prayer backwards. Confused himself, he explained, ``I ran into Commodore Miles at the party last night. Vincent wanted to know if you had gotten the response, because he couldn't find it, and didn't know whether it had been mailed or lost.''
Alice practically slouched as she sighed. Brenden raised an eyebrow, and said, ``Why did you show me? Is something wrong?''
``No, not at all.''
Brenden shook his head, and returned to the paper. Moments later, Alice heard from him a low whistle. She asked, ``What's in the paper, Brenden?''
``Something a little frightening. It says a wolf escaped from Regent's Park zoo yesterday, and killed at least four people before they were able to put it down.''
``How ghastly!'' she agreed.
``I'm sorry we're late,'' apologised Brenden as the group finally arrived, ``but there was an awful crowd near Hyde Park. We took the tube up to there, and were planning on walking down because it's such a nice day.''
``No bother. I took the liberty of ordering appetisers.'' Arthur signalled the waiter over, and said, ``Would any of you like a drink?''
As they made their orders, Arthur finished off a Bloody Mary, and spread some foie gras on a cracker. ``I want beer,'' said Bubba. Valentine, ever aware of the fact that this went to the Lord's wallet, said helpfully, ``Better bring him a keg. And I need an ashtray.''
Brenden's own belly was growling, and he helped himself to the appetisers. Arthur thanked them all for showing, and said, ``Brenden, how much of what's going on in the world have you seen recently?''
Swallowing a bite of salad, he sighed. ``Too much, everywhere.''
``What do you mean? Forgive me, but I have seen quite a bit of England, and it doesn't seem that bad.''
Brenden frowned, and said, ``Well, Aysle is a friendly cosm. That cannot be said of the rest.''
``Is there such a thing? They are still invaders. Alain, my apologies; I hope I shall not offend you, but I fear I might.
``Brenden, how long have you lived in Britain? Certainly not all your life, and therefore you cannot fully appreciate the effects that Lady Ardinay--and I have every respect for her--is having on Britain's government.
``If Lady Ardinay were truly an invader, then the British government would simply mobilise against her, and maintain its power. But, as it is, with two governments trying to rule two different realms which occupy the same space--not the sane island, but the same space--both are hurt, and the British government, I fear, moreso.
``Even for all their good intentions, it is my understanding (and correct me if I am mistaken) that it is the number of believers in one of these realities, and not their intentions, which grants the invaders their strength?''
Brenden had to nod at that. ``It seems so. But, surely, it cannot be as bad as you indicate?''
Arthur laid his fork on the table. ``Do you know that there was a shipwreck off the coast near my estate two months ago? And it has yet to be disposed of, because, even if the PM had the manpower to send up there, we can't operate up there with our equipment because it is a foreign reality. Things do not work! I, myself, have to be most careful, although I have had a far sight more luck using my equipment than most of the locals. But anyway, that is why I frequent London.'' He smiled at Anna. ``But, I am always finding new reasons to do so anyway.''
The subject moved away from Reality and Invasion, to more appropriate luncheon topics. Arthur lavished a great deal of his attention upon Anna. Anna, in turn, showed very little, as emotional displays were not her wont. But, she was moved nonetheless. She really thought she liked him.
They were just finishing their entrees, when Valentine noticed a dark shadow pass across the street outside the big picture window. Alain stood, and walked over to it. She looked up, and saw a huge cloud hovering barely fifty feet overhead. Alain was just a little puzzled as she went back to her seat. She couldn't help but think of a cloud of bats.
An icy chill began to creep into the room. Anna and Alice wrapped their arms about themselves to try and stay warm. It didn't help. The room got colder, and colder, except it didn't seem to be the room. It felt as though their very hearts were freezing solid.
Brenden tried to stand up, but his eyes rolled back into his head, and, with a soft mew of pain, he fell to the floor. The others could feel shards of ice skewering their souls, and the pain became unbearable.
Just as the cold began to recede, and they thought they might breathe again, Bubba lurched forward. He had been struck hard across the back.
He turned and faced--his own shadow. Fear filled the room, and every one of them felt with sick certainty that one of them would die, or even more.
Bubba opened his mouth to growl at this foul apparition, but the fear oozed down his throat, grabbing his voice and preventing sound from emerging.
The shadow raked its claws at Bubba, staggering him. Alain dove for Brenden's still form. Magickal light glowed around her hands, and, as she touched them to Brenden, he began to stir. No physical damage appeared to have been done to him--or any of them, for that matter--yet something had almost killed him. Alain had felt it, like her soul was being nailed into a coffin by spikes of coldest ice.
Valentine had already pulled her chain off of her jacket, and swung it with a ferocious cry. Her skin crawled as the chain passed through the thing--but she could feel some kind of resistance, as though she were attacking syrup.
John grabbed a spoon off the table, and flipped it into the air as he recited his magick. The bolt of metal shot into the shadow creature and stuck there, hanging in the middle of that translucent beast.
The fear, the anxiety, the ferocity coursed through Alice's veins. Her limbs shifted and reformed, the hair grew out, her face distended. She howled, and leapt for Bubba's shadow.
The rest of the group thought for a moment--but only for a moment--that they could turn the tide now, with the wolf in the fray. Then they noticed the black, translucent wolf-shape where Alice had been standing. It's fangs and claws looked truly menacing.
Alain screamed as her own shadow stood up from the floor and sliced across her back. Blood splattered, and Alain felt the hand of death reaching for her. Shadoe drew her sword and attacked.
The lightning fast blade flashed through Alain's shadow once, twice. Shadoe's eyes bulged as she saw a thick, black, see-through goo drip off of the blade.
A voice rang out from the kitchen, stammering in impotent fear. ``Just find out what the bloody Hell is going on out there!'' The kitchen door swung open, and a sixteen year old busboy found himself standing in the middle of Hell.
Brenden, back up on his feet, pulled a flashlight from his jacket, and turned it on Alain's shadow. The creature winced slightly, but then Brenden noticed that, shadow as it was, it stopped the light from passing through it. That fact made it abundantly clear to Brenden just how strange and powerful were the forces with which they were dealing. He stood helplessly as the thing batted the light from his hands. His fear was infectious, too, and everybody in the room realised just how bad things were.
Arthur swung his fist at the elven shadow, but missed as it danced out of the way. The were-wolf turned at growled at the wolf-shadow, then swung her claws. Gobs of shadow dripped from her claws.
Bubba picked up a chair and swung it at his shadow. The chair bent and buckled, falling to the ground. Valentine's chain swung again, with no better results. Alain's shadow turned and faced the annoying little ninja. A backhand of sharp claws sent Shadoe crashing to the ground.
The busboy scuttled back into the kitchen. The two wolves rolled across the floor, a ball of grey fur and black ooze, and Alice's growling and yelping sounded over all. Alain pulled a clump of shredded metal from a bag she had brought. Her enchantment sent the shards hurtling into Bubba's shadow. It flinched and turned to face her, the shards hanging clustered inside its black head.
John imitated that, and fired off another spell. The shadow thing screamed, then melted onto the floor at Bubba's feet, while pieces of metal clanged to the ground. Almost immediately, the elven shadow swung round on the sorceress, but broke apart in the middle of its attack. The globules of shadow coagulated like thick blood onto the floor.
Kickingbird noticed something outside, and his heart threatened to burst in his chest. Lumbering towards him was a figure, seven feet tall, and hunchbacked. Open sores and flayed skin hung loose from rotting bone. Two arms fell to its knees, and the dagger like nails on its distended, broken fingers scraped the floor. As it shattered the big window and swung its claws wildly at the Sioux, it reeked of the grave.
The were-wolf crashed into a wall, looking as though she were ready to collapse. As Shadoe moved in to attack the shadow-wolf, Alain turned towards Alice. ``Dunad, aid this noble woman!'' A soft glow played about the two of them, and then the wolf bounded back to her feet, looking envigoured and mean.
Just then, Alain noticed the awful creature hunched over John, swinging malevolent hands at him. It was a wraith, a powerful undead creature. Brenden and Anna had produced guns, and began firing at the wraith. Small pieces of decaying flesh fell to the floor, but it did not seem to notice.
Shadoe and the black wolf circled each other, moving towards the broken window. The ninja kept pulling small puffs of blackness from it on the end of her blade, but it seemed not to notice. Then the hideous thing stopped on all fours, and oozed back into the floor.
Shadoe had not even breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it behind her. With a maniacal, mocking laugh, the Shadow Demon showed its terrible face.
John found another collection of metal, and, holding it aloft before him, began his enchantments. The cloud of shards flew straight and true at the undead Horror standing in the middle of the room, swatting at those around it like flies.
The metal struck, and jutted from its putrid skin, seemingly with no effect. The demon batted Shadoe aside like a small doll, and watched her crash through a chair.
The wraith turned its malevolent eyes on the shape of Anna. It lumbered towards her, while its jaw dropped to its chest, baring rows of razor sharp teeth. Anna could manage no more movement than two short, ineffective steps backwards.
The wraith closed the distance, and began to lunge forward.
``Nooo!'' Arthur threw himself forward, landing on top of the creature. It grabbed Arthur with both arms, and ripped violently across his chest. Arthur fell to the ground and lay still.
Alain moved over to the fallen Lord, and applied her magick to the large open wound in his chest. He might have died, but, apparently she had been in time, for he seemed to have lost very little blood.
The two monsters stood together in the center of the room, the demon and the wraith. They surveyed the demolition they had wrought, and the pummeled group of stormers. And they laughed a laugh of absolute, violent insanity as the demon faded into the darkness outside, and the wraith dissolved into a cloud of darkest black which floated from the room.
Anna was the first to find a voice. ``Get an ambulance!'' She had moved to crouch over Arthur's prostrate form. His eyes were opened, but somewhat glazed looking. They almost focused on Anna's face.
He reached with one hand, haltingly, and took Anna's hand in his own. A violent cough racked his body--one of his lungs was probably punctured. ``I- I just couldn't let it happen again. Not to you.''
Anna squeezed his hand slightly, though puzzled by that enigmatic statement.
Arthur seemed to ignore the pain he must most surely have been in, for he continued. ``Forgive me, my lady, if I have been impetuous, but you do so remind me of my beloved wife--God rest her sweet soul.'' He paused, his eyes shut for a moment, then opened again. ``I know, you do not much look like her, but there are things: the fall of a lock, the turn of a smile. You inflict these remembrances on me, and I cannot but help the way I act.
``But, moreso, your mannerisms, certain attitudes, reactions; I keep having to look twice at you, only to realise, yet again, that she is gone.
``And, God help me, I could not stand nearby, and allow the shallow, selfish wrap of fear to hold me still, while another such fine woman was taken so brutally from this world.
``And, whatever consequences this may bring, I must tell you now, Anna, that I love you, as I thought I might never love again.''
His eyes closed again. His chest moved with shallow, laboured breathing. The wail of an ambulance sounded from outside. Alain thought that, perhaps, she noticed a tear in Anna's eye.
A stretcher was being rolled nearby, two paramedics pushing it. Gently, they lifted the injured body up onto it, and Anna moved to follow them back to their vehicle.
``Sorry, ma'am. We've no room for passengers.'' He produced a small card. ``This is were we're takin' 'im. You can meet 'im there.''
The wailing siren started again, and the ambulance moved off down the foggy street.