Worlds War One

xxvii [Quest]

Quest had been the cause of a few fights in his life. The experience of being bullied in grammar school and finally beefing up in high school had left him with a chip on his shoulder by the time he'd entered college. Quest had grown bold about his interest in romantic pursuits as he turned twenty-one and was never shy about asking someone out, often at a bar, typically while inebriated. Too frequently, the object of his interest had been there with someone else and that someone else usually hadn't taken Quest's persistent flirtation well. Inevitably, the boyfriend or girlfriend of the object of his intended affections had ended up escalating it to an altercation. Thus, this wasn't Quest's first bar fight.

It was, however, the first time he'd ever punched an alien. Probably.

"One punch," Greg the Extra-Terrestrial complimented, impressed, looking down at his fellow E.T. laid out unconscious on the barroom floor next to Greg's glowing orange tennis shoes.

"Glass jaw," Quest quipped.

"Silica, actually."

"Silly who?"

"Silica," Greg said. "During puberty, our bodies convert silica to quartz for our bone structure. It makes us rather impervious to physical assault in adulthood. So even more impressive, the one punch."

"I learned a long time ago that anything will fall if you hit it hard enough."

Quest wasn't sure how the sides had been drawn, but half the bar had taken up with Saanvi and Greg while the other patrons had joined the Magi. The Misfits faced a group of beings that had previously only starred in Quest's bedtime stories or one of the late-night horror movies he'd watched with his dads. Quest had been yearning to punch a martian à la Will Smith in Independence Day since he was six. Conclusion? Satisfying.

Callie sparred with a Ghost who fluttered in and out of existence, winking away every time the Private threw a punch, then countering with a jab that certainly seemed substantial. But Callie wasn't losing the fight—she was learning, timing the counterattacks. Then, after suffering a half-dozen punches, the soldier had the pattern down. She made a sloppy swing of her fist, and her Ghostly opponent disappeared, then reappeared with a roundhouse that Callie easily blocked. Private Golden retorted with four fast rabbit punches that left the Ghost stunned before the phantom could dematerialize. A final uppercut laid the specter out cold.

Fox faced two Humans who had sided with the Magi triplets. Two against one. Something out of Dante's Inferno stepped up beside Airman Fox and made it a fair fight. Fox's new partner was dark, with a boyish cut to her black hair. Small nubs like horns grew out of the top of her head. She wore an elegant short skirt, with a pointed tail peeking out from the hem. Her nametag said she was "Aqsa." Aqsa evened the odds.

Another Extra-Terrestrial picked up Ji and summarily tossed him violently against the shelves of colorful liquors behind the bar, several bottles breaking and leaking down the wall. The alien started stalking toward Ji for a second helping of pain. Quest and Greg came to the soldier's rescue. "C'mon, Joe. We don't have to do this," Greg pleaded to his fellow E.T. Joe threw a punch anyway. Greg ducked. Quest and Greg countered with a double strike that landed simultaneous hits on the alien's face. It felt like punching a boulder, but Joe paused. Stunned.

Autumn cowered in a corner.

Lieutenant Robinson stood with Drill and Saanvi against the trio of Magi. The two soldiers stood forward of Saanvi, who seemed like the type to let other people fight her battles for her. Quest got the impression she was more of a Snow White or Cinderella kind of Save-Me!-Princess than a strong, independent Disney girl like Elsa or Moana. Lieutenant Bad socked the top hat right off the head of Hristos with one shot to his face. Drill grabbed Argyro like she was a doll, lifting her and pinning her arms to her side, immobilized. The Magi called Elena wielded a cane with a violet gem at the end, which sparked purple power as Lieutenant Robinson tried to grab her. Sparks sent the lieutenant sailing across the room. Drill was caught in the crackle of indigo electricity, bringing him to his knees, although his grip on Argyro never weakened. Elena faced Saanvi alone.

"Magic beats fisticuffs," Elena said.

"Cheating beats fair play," Saanvi responded.

The look on Elena's face turned from supreme confidence to sudden fear. The Magi looked down and saw that Saanvi had scattered grains of sand on the floor beneath Elena. The Magi's cane started to power up, like the violet light was about to turn violent when she simply winked away like a nightmare upon waking. The sand was also gone.

"No," shouted Argyro.

"Did she . . ?" Fox asked Greg.

"Elena isn't dead," Greg assured. "The grains of sand are something Princess Saanvi collected from Kālá himself. Rare product indeed. They possess the power to travel through time. The princess sent Elena to either the past or the future. Somewhen else. Out of your way. Demons don't fight fair."

"I fight to win," Saanvi said. "What's fairer than that?"

The brawl was over. Saanvi's side was victorious. Argyro collected an unconscious Hristos and skedaddled, presumably to check the history books for any signs of their sister. Saanvi saddled up to the bar and ordered a drink from the alien bartender who acted as if this sort of thing happened every day.

"I need a navigator, Penina," Saanvi said to a hooded figure sitting on a barstool down three seats. The cloaked patron had sat out the entire barroom brawl.

"As I've heard, Saanviiii," the hooded figure answered, drawing out the end of the princess's name. The voice was cold and hard. "I can take you to the Forsaken Land."

Quest helped Ji to his feet, a bruise across his left cheek already purple and ugly.

"Forsaken Land?" Quest said. "I don't like the sound of that."

"She sat out the whole fight, Princess," Ji complained. "And now we're partners?"

The entity who looked more Jedi than tour guide shrugged. "I never trust a teeeeam that includes a nephilim."

"It's pronounced 'Navy' on our side of the world," Quest clarified.

Penina shrugged. Then the hooded figure reached up and took the edges of the cloak, pulling the cowl back and revealing what was underneath. Her skin appeared entirely polished like a sculpture come to life. Quest had seen a collection of ceramic dolls displayed by a girl he'd dated briefly, and the appearance of Penina reminded him precisely of those porcelain figures. Penina was bald, entirely white, and smooth as a cue ball. She was a work of animated art with whorls and veins like an ocean pearl the size of a skull. She even possessed a molded mouth, an indentation as white as the rest of her features. The only variation in the pearly alabaster were her eyes, a pale blue glow under the surface of her sockets.

"Sides," Penina said. "There are no sides. There is meeeerelyyyy the deeeesire to survive."

"And there's a cost to survival," Saanvi said.

"Yes," Penina agreed. "A high cost. Passage to the Forsaken Land will reeeequire a toll. The fare is a Human life. Which one of you will beeee the token soul?"