Lauren Crowe and the Case of the
Fairy's Fate
By Marcus Lycus
(Marcus_Lycus@hotmail.com)
Legal Horrors: Characters and text are
copyright Marcus Lycus. Do not repost this story without my permission.
This story is meant for people over the
age of 18, please don't read it if you are younger than that. Any resemblance
between characters in this story and any actual persons living or dead is
purely coincidental of course. Especially Lady Lauren Crowe, she's like 100%
original and totally not based on any video game characters. (Please don't
sue me!)
And finally, please e-mail me with any
comments, complaints or suggestions. Remember feedback leads to more stories!
Marcus Lycus
September 2005
Chapter 4: A night in the
Dungeons
Dressed in sackcloth Lauren stood before
Svetlana, the castle's chief caretaker. The vampiress sneered at her and
pointed down. Crowe kneeled.
"So you are the warm woman who so interested
the count. I see now he is done with you."
A tear fell down Crowe's cheek. It was true;
the Count had scorned her. She was cast out, fit only to serve as his most
menial maid.
"Perhaps if you serve well he will one day
accept you back in his bedchambers."
Crowe's heart leapt.
"Perhaps one day.... But first I think you
can serve in the stables. Standing in horse shit is something that seems
something appropriate to a woman of your character."
***
Bridgett held her blue crystal at arms length
waving it up and down, left and right gauging the strength of the glow until
she was sure which way to go. Down further, deeper into the castle. She was
afraid of course. Deep down she knew that her mystic talents were still
underdeveloped and that in a fight she had always relied on Crowe's revolvers
or Running Deer's arrows.
But this time there was no one to rely
on.
In the days following Bridgett’s expulsion
and exile from the castle Running Deer had tenderly ministered and cared
for her. Together they had bathed
in pure springs and inhaled fragment
herbs. Running Deer taught the
Irish girl certain rituals they could perform together each night, rituals
Running Deer explained were practiced by warrior women to bind themselves
together. Bridgett found them
queer at first but soon got into the spirit of their nightly
exercises. Even after a few
days Brigett felt like a new woman, more confident and certain than she had
ever been before.
But even with her warrior sister to strengthen
her she felt was taxing her mystic
reserves. She had cast three
spells, the tracing spell that allowed her to locate the fairy's spirit,
a concealment spell that had gotten her this far past the Count's guards
and servants and a ward to repel evil spirits. She also knew a few spells
of purification and banishment that might serve her in a fight but they might
just as easily overtax her and send her into unconsciousness.
So Running Deer had given her an ugly brutal
pistol for self-defense. The Irish girl did not ask where or how her friend
has gotten it. Not that it mattered; Bridgett was almost as scared of using
it as she was of being caught.
Fortunately her concealment spell held up,
letting her slip by the misshapen servants she came across searching for
a way down.
Victor passed her, a peasant girl under his
arm. For a second it seemed he saw her but he continued by. Bridgett gave
a sigh of relief. Even that brief contact had brought certain feelings back
to her. She feared that if he had lingered any longer she would have rushed
to be at his side.
Many minutes later she found herself by an
iron door. The two deaf guards outside seemed oblivious to her. She opened
it and slipped into the narrow corridor beyond. It was almost fifty feet
long, sloping downwards and ending in another iron door. Bridgett could hear
a soft song and noticed blades of grass poking through the stones. The light
from her crystal was as bright as the moon. There was just one problem. There
was someone ahead, a tall man in a dark cloak.
It was...
The Count turned and
smiled.
"Good evening Bridgett."
***
"Good evening Brave
Crow."
Running Deer could barely recognize Crowe.
Even in the few days she had been the Count's guest her firm body had shriveled.
Her arms and legs, toned from years of climbing and running looked thin and
bony. Her face was gaunt, as though she had not eaten properly in months.
Her once-tan skin was now pale and colorless. Her dark brown hair hung lifeless
and filthy, streaks of grey already
appearing. The woman before
her seemed only a few steps removed from a corpse.
It was horrible.
The pitiful sight brought back memories of
the first time she saw the woman known as Lauren Crow.
***
The Cavalry had come just after dawn, burning
her village killing most of the men. The children and the old women had been
allowed to flee but the young women...
Running Deer had always been the fastest
runner and strongest woman in her tribe but as a girl had never been allowed
to hunt or fight. When her brother Strong Bear fell to the marauding Americans
she sprinted across the camp dodging bullets and retrieved his bow. She loosed
four arrows killing four of the blue-clad riders and buying time for more
of her people to flee. Finally one rider got a lasso around her arms and
pulled her from her feet. She was dragged around the camp several times until
she was barely conscious.
The hairy, filthy sergeant stood over her
magnificent form looking down at her breasts, barely concealed by the torn
buckskin dress. He took out his bowie knife and cut away her remaining clothes.
The wounded girl tried to fight but was too weak to stop him.
She saw him drop is trousers and felt her
legs being pulled apart. Around her she could hear cries of horror and pain
from the other women the soldiers had rounded up. Running Deer shut her eyes
and tired to block out the world.
Then she heard the shot. She winced, thinking
the soldiers had shot her but there was no pain. There was a
thud.
She opened her eyes and sat up. The sergeant
was dead, shot in the back. She looked upon a proud white woman stilling
on a great black stallion holding a smoking revolver in her strong
hand.
"Get out." She told the Americans.
One reached for his rifle but Running Deer's
rescuer shot it from his hands. Another tried to move behind her but a few
well-aimed rounds sent him scampering.
A third drew his sword and advanced but a bullet through his forage
cap creased his skull. The soldiers
looked at one another, at the smirking Englishwoman and they fled, frightened
off by one magnificent woman.
The white rode up and dismounted before Running
Deer. She took a blanket from her saddlebag and offered it to the naked
woman.
"Hullo, you've had a quite a fright I see.
By any chance do you speak English?"
That was how she met her sister Brave Crow.
Her companions Bridgett O'Malley, Marianne Turquine and Brenda 'Bullets'
Bernard rode up soon after. That night the survivors held a feast for their
deliverers and Running Deer pledged herself to serve Brave Crow until the
end of her days.
Together they had seen more of the world
than Running Deer ever knew existed. They had met kings and heroes and battled
gods and monsters.
Turquine left them a while ago, when the
exiled French noblewoman found herself crowned queen of a lost island of
Amazons. As for the American
woman 'Bullets', the less said about her the better. Suffice to say they
would not meet again as friends. But Running Deer, Bridgett and Lauren Crowe
had been inseparable.
Until now.
***
Crowe dropped the shovel startled. It was
impossible but... there she was.
"Running Deer! Oh Running Deer I've missed
you so, I mean, go away you savage, I have work to do, I mean..." Crowe's
head began to swim, different voices shouted at her. She fell her knees in
a pile of horse shit and started to cry. "Help me...
please..."
"Help you? I came here looking for Brave
Crow, my blood sister to whom I owe my life. Instead I find a sniveling maid
wallowing in horse dung."
Running Deer spat on the weeping noblewoman
and gave her a harsh kick in the ribs as well.
"Running Deer what are
you-"
Lauren took a kick across the
chin.
"Please Running Deer-"
Running Deer drove her heel into the back
of Lauren's head driving her open mouth deep into the pile of
shit.
"Perhaps that will teach you your
place-"
Lauren's leg shot out almost tripping Running
Deer but the Indian warrior did a simple somersault and landed on the balls
of her feet ten feet away.
"Slow white woman. Slow and
clumsy."
Crowe rose to her feet livid with rage and
charged, spitting excrement from her full lips. Running Deer dodged easily
and delivered an elbow to the back of the head sending the Englishwoman back
down into the dirt.
"My father always told me the pale skins
were an inferior race of savages."
Crowe roared and leapt to her feet gracefully.
She delivered a barrage of blows all parried with some effort by Running
Deer. The Indian woman countered with a blow to the face and another to the
gut. Crowe staggered back several feet.
The Englishwoman was panting now, her arms
felt as heavy as lead. But she fought on. Thoughts of the Count's orders,
her own wishes, her doubts, her fears were gone. All she cared about we defeating
this savage who assaulted and humiliated her. She picked up a shovel and
swung at Running Deer who barely dodged. After three more swings she finally
connected with the side of her friend's head sending the Indian into the
mud.
Crowe threw away the shovel and straddled
the Indian landing blow after blow on her face.
"Red savage! How dare you! Do you know who
I am? I am Lauren Crowe, heiress to the House of Crowe! I am no one's
servant..."
Crowe stopped. And
smiled.
Running Deer smiled as
well.
They embraced and laughed. Then they
wept.
"Please Running Deer, how can you forgive
me after what I did to you, what I said..."
"Brave Crowe you were not yourself, the dark
Count enslaved your will, perverted you, but I knew in the end your heart
would win out."
"It wasn't my heart that won Running Deer.
It was my pride. That was the weapon the Count used to turn me against you
and Bridgett, and that was what you used to bring me back to myself. You
should have been an alienist Running Deer, that was
masterful."
Running Deer smiled to herself. It took no
special skills to see that Crowe's pride was her most powerful
motivator.
"I shall need weapons of some sort, I doubt
the Count will be impressed by this broken shovel."
Running Deer walked back to satchel and retrieved
Crowe's revolvers and knives, she tossed them to the Englishwoman. "The Count
had no need for these things and had a servant toss them over the wall.
Fortunately I was able to retrieve them."
Crowe smiled and buckled on the gun belt.
Seemingly for the first time she noticed the state of her arms and legs.
She felt her face.
"I must look a fright. What could have done
this to..." memories of nights with the Count came back to her. Hanging from
a wooden X as her blood dripped into the waiting mouths of his thralls, the
Count biting into her breasts, shoulders and neck and drinking deep. Herself
moaning in pleasure and begging the count to drink more. She shuddered for
a minute.
"I... I need to finish this. To kill that
monster. Running Deer I need your help and Bridgett's. Where is she
anyway?"
"She has gone to rescue the Spirit you captured
while I rescued you."
"What? You sent her alone into the castle?
Surely you jest!"
"Fire Hair has strong medicine, she will
be safe."
"I fear you overestimate our young friend,
and underestimate our foe. Let's go."
***
"Good evening Bridgett. So kind of you to
return, though I usually prefer my guests to be announced at the
gate."
Fear shot through Bridgett but the words
to the spell of protection sprang from her lips as though she was reading
them from her lost grimoire. Cold blue light surrounded
her.
"Back creature! You cannot penetrate my wards!"
The Irish girl was somewhat surprised when
the Count actually did take a step back.
"Quite a feat you have managed." The Count
waved his hand in front of her a few times, his face showed discomfort when
it came too close to her wards. "This protective spell is well-cast. Your
talents are considerable indeed. Perhaps I chose the wrong woman to serve
me. The blood of a magic user is always sweet."
He looked into her eyes. Bridgett swiftly
looked away, she did not know if he could enchant her through the circle
of warding but she did not want to find out the hard way.
"B-back! B-back! You cannot
approach."
The Count took a few more steps back until
he was against the iron door. He squirmed uncomfortably feeling the powerful
magics the fairy still radiated through it. He was trapped between two sources
of white magic with no where to go.
He almost smiled.
"Now what Miss O'Malley? How will you free
the fairy? The corridor is too narrow for you to slip past me and I assure
you there is no other way in."
Bridgett hesitated. She had planned to continue
forward counting on the ward but she recalled vaguely that if the caster
allowed a dark spirit to enter the circle the ward would be broken. And if
she stepped forward and the Count had no where to retreat to, would he be
able to enter? She was unsure. There was so much about magic she did not
know. So much about life she did not know. She suddenly felt very young and
very weak.
The Count began to speak
again.
"Did you enjoy your night with Victor? He
said you were quite enthusiastic like a wild cat locked too long in her cage.
I felt most guilty interrupting you like that. I could give him to you, he
would serve you well until you tired of him."
Bridgett opened her mouth to protest, to
deny his words but a sudden shock between her legs caused her to moan. The
Count's words had brought back all her memories of that night and her body
had responded. She backed up a step.
"Of course Victor is only the beginning,
he is quite young you know, in his first century. Someone of my experience
could teach you pleasures few mortal women can dream of."
The blue light flickered.
***
The torch light flickered as Running Deer
and Crowe entered the dungeons. They had no magical means to track Bridgett
but counted on their instincts and keen senses to lead them to her. So far
they had been fortunate and not encountered any resistance. But as the torches
flickered and died they met their first obstacle.
"Good evening Miss Crowe, have you finished
with the stables so soon?"
"Svetlana!" The tall woman blocked their
way. Her skin was bleached as white as ivory and her platinum blond hair
was almost the same shade. Her long white dress with hanging sleeves made
her seem like some sort of banshee out of an Irish ghost story.
As she often noted, Crowe had no patience
for ghost stories. She drew her guns and emptied them into her former mistress
before the woman could say another word.
Red spots appeared across the front of the
vampiress' dress and Svetlana was knocked back several feet but she did not
even stagger. Instead she smiled and cocked her head to the
side.
"Oh Crowe, is that the best you can do? Perhaps
you are good for nothing but the stables."
She took a breath and screamed.
Crowe and Running Deer feel to their knees
in pain.
But as she fell Running Deer's strong fingers
relaxed letting loose the talisman-tipped arrow on her bow.
Even in pain her keen eye and lean muscles
guided the arrow unerringly to its mark, the vampire woman's
heart.
"Oh crap." Svetlana said as the wooden shaft
entered her ribs.
She exploded in a cloud of
dust.
***
Bridgett blinked, concentrating again on
the wards.
How could I let my concentration slip for
a second!
Bridgett tried to remember the spell of
purification but the words kept slipping away. She reached in her satchel
for the revolver Running Deer gave her.
"Of course I have more to teach you than
pleasure. Do not forget magic. You have learned much on your own but you
are still a mere acolyte. In my library I have books and scrolls amassed
over centuries. You could learn so much from them. And I could give you an
immortal life to learn from them."
A vision formed in Bridgett's mind of herself
dressed in fine clothes, a powerful sorceress, desired by men, known across
the world. She did not want it per se. She was a simple girl who longed
for nothing more than a kind husband and warm home but... She could do it.
Little Bridgett O'Malley could be the important one, the powerful one; she
did not have to be the sidekick, the servant, the loyal companion. The thought
refused to leave her mind. The revolver fell from her
fingers.
"And what is the alternative? To travel with
your mistress, raiding tombs and stealing treasures? Serving a woman who
belittles your talents and your heritage? She still makes you do her laundry
doesn't she?"
Bridgett nodded.
"She could be made to serve
you."
That image lingered deliciously in her
mind.
The blue light flickered again and died.
Bridgett tried to find something to say but her mouth was suddenly dry. The
Count walked up to her. He smiled. His smile was so
big...
He wrapped his cloak around the trembling
Irish girl, his teeth closed on her trembling flesh. But
then...
"Good evening Count."
Lauren Crowe took careful aim and fired her
twin revolvers twelve times into the dark shape drawing blood from the count
but never hitting her friend. The vampire lord was hurled back against the
iron door screaming in pain and shock. Next to Crowe Running Deer loosed
two arrows at the vampire's heart. He blocked them with his arm but cried
out again as the talismans on the arrowheads burned his corrupted
flesh.
Bridgett slumped to the floor with glazed
eyes.
"...immortal sorceress... who is the servant
now m'lady... lick it... lick it!"
Crowe shot her a sneer of contempt. She could
not imagine how the Irish girl allowed herself to be mesmerized like that.
Lauren would never let something like that happen to her.
Her fingers were a blur of motion as she
reloaded while Running Deer loosed another two shafts. One arrow was deflected
from his heart but the other buried itself in his leg sending the Count to
his knees. Another twelve shots made the Count roar with pain.
But as Crowe reloaded again the corridor
was filled with mist. The mist cleared in seconds but when it did the vampire
was gone.
Crowe muttered a word more suited for a sailor
than a noblewoman and tended to her Irish friend.
"Get up Bridgett!" She slapped the girl.
"This is no time to be sleeping on the job, you're
needed."
After a few more slaps the Irish girl's eye's
focused again. "M-m'lady? I mean mistress-"
"Please Bridgett, we have been friends for
a long time. You should really call me Lauren." Crowe said
firmly.
Bridgett wrapped her arms around Crowe and
cried out in glee "Oh m'lady you are back!"
"Now, now Bridgett, calm yourself please.
There is no reason to make a spectacle of yourself, even an Irishwoman should
know that."
A frown crossed Bridgett's face. Yes, Crowe
really was back to normal.
"Now I need you to defend the corridor while
Running Deer and I free the fair… the
specimen. Free the specimen."
"Defend it how m'lady?"
"With your... skills. You know what I mean.
I trust you to do it Bridgett."
Bridgett beamed with joy and turned to watch
the entrance. The protective wards sprang up brighter than ever
before.
Crowe put her hand on the iron door and
pulled.
Green light filled the corridor engulfing
the three women.
***
Arial sang. She sang of the
Truth.
There are many names for the truth. Light
and Dark. White and Black. Order and Chaos. Good and Evil.
All of them are wrong. There are only two
things that matter Life and Death.
In their minds Bridgett, Running Deer and
Lauren saw the birth of life on this world, the small spark of life, those
first cells, growing, changing, spreading. They saw more sparks appear. The
light was faint but it grew.
These sparks had many names spirits, animus,
souls, none of them completely accurate.
Life is not just a series of chemical reactions
in the material world. Life creates sparks of light in the psychic world,
tiny sparks in the infinite darkness of the universe. They seem small and
weak but they are growing. Where once the psychic world was black there are
now countless spots of white.
All things must
end. Mountain fall into dust,
oceans dry, sun flicker and fall dark but life alone
continues. Life alone spreads, evolves, grows larger and more
complex. Life is
order. Life is progress.
Life is goodness.
There are entities that seek to return their
world to darkness. They seek to choke off the infestation of light before
it grows too bright. They too have many names demons, devils, vampires, monsters.
But life is not without its own champions.
The sparks combine and grow and find ways to defend themselves. The three
women see fairies, angels and heroes appear. They see these bright souls
fighting to protect the weaker ones, to protect them and to inspire them
to grow stronger.
The three women look at each other and at
themselves. They see their souls burning brightly but also see the shadows
of the lives they have taken, the lives they have destroyed. They hug each
other and weep.
There are those who know nothing of the Truth.
They see humanity killing the natural world and killing each other with wanton
abandon. They see the same humanity working to save lives through medicine,
sanitation and simple charity. They see the champions of life torn between
protecting humanity and destroying it.
They realize that no decision has yet been
made, but one may come at any time. Much will depend on what choices humanity
makes.
The song ends.
***
The women looked at each
other. The Indian woman’s
face was still stoic but traces of tears could be seen down her
cheeks. Bridget was panting,
flushed and her eyes sparkled with new confidence and
power. But Crowe was the most
affected. She was on her knees
weeping openly. “What have
I done? How could I not have
known the truth?”
As the others watched her skin darkened,
resuming its normal tan. Her
hair grew thicker and darker and her limbs
stronger. In moments she was
herself again. She jumped to her feet, wiped away the tears and drew her
pistols.
“Running Deer help the
fairy! Bridgett ready your
wards! I think it is time was
left this place!” The others
leapt at her command.
The journey out of the castle is fairly
uneventful. They encounter a few more of the Count's thralls but Bridgett's
wards and banishments see them off. A few of his mortal servants also appear
but Crowe takes a special pleasure in dispatching them with her revolver.
Running Deer concerns herself with supporting the injured fairy in her arms.
When they reach the surface the winged woman
turns to them. Simply touching the soil of the world seems to have revived
her, she glows with energy and life. She spreads her wings and disappears
into the sky. The echoes of her song ring in the women's
hearts.
***
The next day they ride out of Transcarpathia.
Their night was troubled by swarms of bats but Bridgett saw them off with
some effort. More troubling were the visions of what they had
seen.
"Think about m'lady, at the rate we are cutting
down forests and polluting the air with coal fires the world could someday
have an environmental collapse. Already the air in London is nigh
unbreathable."
Running Deer nodded in
ascent.
"And now we know that we risk retribution
from spirits of life! Imagine what they could do if they decide humanity
is too destructive!"
"Hmm? What who might do?"
"The spirits! The fairies, the elementals!
They could-"
"Oh Bridgett, I thought we were past those
fairy tales, you know I have no patience for that
hogwash."
"But m'lady the vision the fairy showed
us..."
"You mean the hallucinations we saw after
breathing the insect's pollen? I gave that no more thought than your ridiculous
story about the Count being a vampire. It is obvious to me we caught a rare
insect but were drugged and betrayed by the Count. Fortunately I found the
strength of will to save you and dispatch our captor. Too bad the insect
escaped, it would have been quite a discovery."
"But..."
"I will hear no more of this Bridgett. We
have a long journey home ahead of us and I have no desire to spend it listening
to childish rubbish."
The three companions rode on in
silence.
Epilogue
After his injuries it took the count several
days to reform.
He cursed those women and cursed himself
for underestimating them. And for underestimating the spirit he had captured.
It would take weeks to find and destroy all the hateful plants that had sprung
up in his dark castle.
He desired revenge but even his cruel mind
could not conjure up something painful enough for Lauren Crowe and her
companions.
Fortunately he had a friend whose skills
in that area were unsurpassed.
He summoned Victor.
Take this letter to Castle Kafke, see that
it is delivered to my old and dear friend the Wraith
Lord.
As he watched the rider leave the Count laughed.
If you thought he was cruel that's because you've never met the Wraith
Lord.
Afterword
Lady Lauren Crowe, Running Deer and Bridgett
O'Malley first appeared in a story I wrote a year ago called Global Protectors
Vs The Wraithlord (available at
http://www.superheroinecentral.com/~wizard/Stories_Main.htm
) which details some of their further adventures. I really liked the way
these characters came out and have wanted to revisit them for a
while.
Hope you all liked them too. As always,
feedback is eagerly appreciated.
Marcus Lycus
Marcus_Lycus@hotmail.com