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Remi was quelling riots in Angor while Dom took time off from the job.

The bronze-winged assassin hovered above a bunch of Soul Suckers, escapees from the Slough of Despair. He herded them together. “What the fuck’s wrong with you? You’re adding to your sentence with this shit.”

“We heard voices,” said the spokesfemale, a typical Sucker with puckered lips. Her long dark hair was tangled as if she’d been pulling on it. Obviously, the Ordeal had done a number on her. “We started running.”

“Whadda ya mean? Voices?”

“The Slough makes us sad. We wanna pound our chests, cry, and tear out our eyes. Kill ourselves if we could. But a voice called out, ordering us to run.”

“Do you still hear it?”

She shook her head.

“I don’t know anything about a voice. So beat feet back to the Ordeal before I extinct a few of you as an example of stupid.”

She turned toward the Slough, eyeing it warily. When she took one step and then another, the others followed.

Remi soared into the sky again after monitoring their retreating backs. He dropped low beneath storm clouds to search for the next crazy rioting Scourges.

When he skimmed above Fear Mines, hundreds of Mind Rats rushed from the entrance, holding their heads and bellowing. They stampeded toward Loneliness Desert.

Here I go.

Remi began roundup maneuvers again. He circled the Scourges, driving them into a group. Eventually, they came to a halt, their hands falling to their sides, their caterwauling fading to moans and, finally, to silence.

Descending to the ground, his boots kicking up dust, Remi shouted, “What the fuck are you up to? Where ya going?”

“The screams,” said one. Another shook his head. “No. It was loud, screeching music.” “Both of you are wrong. The OC yelled for me to run.” A fourth said, “Drums pounded in my head. They were so amped up my brains rattled. I took off to escape the noise.”

“What do you hear now?” asked Remi.

They all shook their heads. “Nothing,” mumbled a couple.

Remi blew out an exasperated breath. He’d faced down rioting Scourges before, but their reasons had never been so bat-shit crazy.

“Then get your asses back to the mines. You’re wasting my time.”

Flying above the Valley of Doom, Remi spied a large gathering armed with knives, axes, and clubs.

He adjusted the long sword sheathed at his spine and tapped the hilts of the two blades jammed into his hip holsters. Strafing the ground, he shot bronze-daggered feathers from his wings, dropping a few Scourges but not extincting them.

In a voice that shook the land, Remi shouted, “Throw down your weapons and sit on your asses. If you don’t, the next shots will result in extinctions. Decide now.”

Lacking any leadership, the Scourges complied, looking as puzzled as Remi felt. Who’d gathered them? Who’d armed them?

What the fuck?

He floated to the valley floor, his sword drawn, his wings ready to release razor-edged feathers. But he got no lip and no resistance. The Scourges sat on their sixes, their weapons in a pile.

As he strode among them, he shouted, “War is Hell.”

When they stared at him, their eyes empty, he said, “Don’t you watch the movies? It’s a line from Full Metal Jacket . Gotta see it. One of the best action flicks ever.”

A Scourge raised his hand.

“Yeah?”

“I seen it.”

“Good for you. Now, let me guess, guys and gals, something in your head made you do this, but how’d you get the weapons?”

The film buff said, “They were in a pile over there.” He pointed toward a tall shrub.

With no answers from the other Scourges, who seemed content to sit on their asses as ordered, Remi called for Angor’s henchmen to clean up the mess.

Tasks complete, he kicked into high gear, angling his wings to take him to the big city where he hooked up in a BDSM room with a lovely Scourge who enjoyed asphyxiation play.

She loosened up the kinks in his shoulders and elsewhere, but the relief didn’t last long. On his flight home, three of the OneCreator’s Immortal winged squadrons sped from behind dark clouds to surround him. Remi studied their faces. He recognized a few of the males. Their pose was aggressive. Odd since they were all on the same side.

Hovering, Remi touched the hilt of his sword. Better cautious than not. “Hi, fellas. Perfect timing. The Feard already settled shit.”

The biggest male spoke up, an insignia on his arm indicating he was a wing commander. “We’re not here for clean-up duty, assassin.”

“Yeah? What are you here for then? My boots are dirty. They could still handle a good spit polish.”

The big guy bristled, his feathers ruffling. “Wrong.”

The three squadrons of Immortals tightened the circle around him.

Remi drew his blade, yelling, “Well, gentlemen, when the shit hits the fan, some guys run, and some guys stay.”

Their eyes blanked.

“Doesn’t anybody watch movies? The Scent of a Woman ? Al Pacino. I’m surrounded by cretins.” He curled his fingers, waving them. “Come get me if you can.”

Remi couldn’t figure out why the good guys from the OC’s elite winged squadrons would be after him, but their body language spoke for them.

It wasn’t a fair fight. Something stung his arm. His wings collapsed, and he plummeted, the wind of his fall thundering in his ears.

Then, lights out.

****

T hat night at home , Dom leaned against a pillar at the edge of the salon, gazing down on the shoals and the sea beyond. He and Maddy had made love, eaten a late dinner, and talked about her future in OneWorld.

Now, they stared at the beautiful view. Then she gasped. “Dom. Look.”

She pointed south toward a mountain. It had blown its top. A volcanic eruption.

He looped his arm around her waist.

They watched fire and ash spew from the peak. Rivulets of red lava creeped down the mountainside, heading for the valleys.

Madeline sprinted to the side of the house overlooking the expansive lawn. “Where’s Freki?”

“Hunkering down if he knows what’s good for him.”

When a cloud of thick ash spread outward, encroaching on their home, Dom waved his hand through the air to drop shields around their place. The sky grew dark, a twisting, impenetrable black haze.

Dom approached the protective barrier, inhaled, and released his breath. The toxic volcanic gases and debris moved on. “That was fun,” he said. “Don’t go out without me, Maddy. Things are getting...”

“Wack?”

“Sure. That works.”

“Check in on our friends,” she said.

“Our friends?” asked Dom, a pleased grin curving his lips.

Maddy gave him a hesitant nod. “Yes. They’re my friends, too.” She raised her arms and laced her fingers around Dom’s neck. “This is my home. This is my life. I have friends, and I have you.”

Dom pathed the Feard.

After verifying that he and Indy were safe, Ohngel added, No sign of your mate’s sisters. And the army’s pretty thorough. But they’ll keep an eye out for them.

Damn. She’s not gonna be happy about that.

When Ely reported in, Dom said, “Everybody’s fine except I haven’t reached Remiel. And bad news. Ohngel’s Earth contacts haven’t found your sisters.”

“But they’ll keep trying?”

“Yes.”

She leaned her cheek on his chest. I love you, Dom.

I’m sorry your life has turned upside down, but I’m not sorry I found you.

She tilted her head to stare into his green eyes. If everything I’ve gone through was necessary to bring me to you, I’m good with it.

He kissed Maddy’s choppy blonde hair. Perhaps happiness comes with a cost.

You sound like a philosopher.

Fuck. Don’t tell the Feard. They already think I’m getting soft. Best not to overload them.

Do you think life will settle down with Malacour dead?

Doubtful. He can’t be the big rebellion leader.

She sighed. I’m gonna use my mouth to talk now. My brain’s tired.

“I’m in favor of you using your mouth whenever the mood strikes,” he said to Madeline, drawing her into his arms and folding his wings around her gorgeous body.

****

V ast, OneWorld

The OneCreator shared the evidence from Dom and Madeline’s trial with Harmony, who had been busy keeping the explosive lid on Angor’s boiling pot.

“Interesting,” she said, flicking an errant strand of honeyed blonde hair over her shoulder.

“You have a way with understatement, my dear.” The OneCreator coughed into his hand, the fit so bad he ceased talking.

“You like her.”

Harmony and the OneCreator were so in tune that he didn’t need to ask who “her” was. “Like the witch Indigo, I see something special in Madeline.”

“And her gifts?”

“We have talked. I lectured her on using her power ethically. She listened. She is a good being.”

“Did you see her coming?”

He leaned into the overstuffed chair in his office to stare at Harmony. She was old. Older than Michael and Lucian. A contemporary of Kalia. She knew all the dirty secrets and kept them to herself. She had flirted with being a Scourge and won, but the memory of her cruelty had stayed with her. He’d appointed her to manage Angor in his absence because she had insisted on doing more time there. Guilt.

But she was his only confidant now.

He had no Siblings. He had no one to remember who he was at the beginning. And without anyone to remember who he was, rather than what he had become, he was slipping. He was losing touch with a profound part of himself. It was only his steel will that held him together. His will and his love for the Immortals who depended on him.

Harmony crossed her legs, lovely beneath a short skirt. He admired them, his gaze sweeping from her feet to her thighs, the ardor they’d once briefly shared flickering inside him. Now, they were simply close friends.

She said, “No answer may be an answer. On another note, Ely asked me if Lucian attended Ordeals. He asked what malady the rebel suffered.”

“What did you say?”

“I said my list was corrupted. Happened during the whole Madeline-Serita-Praevus-Malacour thing. I was working on reconstructing the files. I’d get back to him.”

“Good save.” The OC hacked into his palm, another bout of coughing overcoming him. He rubbed his aching chest.

Harmony waited for the paroxysm to stop. “Sadly, you are no closer to knowing how Scourges come to be than you ever were.”

“The root cause is beyond my vision. Of course, I can create Immortals with Scourge-like characteristics, similar to Madeline and without deadly urges.”

“But you have never done so?”

“Never.” He relaxed into his chair, crossing an ankle over a knee. “Perhaps I should have extincted Kalia’s livebornes once we learned the mother was an abomination, the first Scourge.”

“They were not Scourges. And there is no sign either has turned.”

Clearing his throat, he said, “New mated pairs and offspring. Right under my nose. I never sensed the births even though they occurred in Vast. And, other than Ohngel and Indigo, I had no knowledge of other recent mates. I have readjusted my awareness and intend to be more cognizant of my Immortals’ comings and goings.”

“You had good reason to discourage mating and livebornes. You not only feared those with the malady in their DNA could have Scourges as offspring, but you feared overpopulation.”

“Yes. And if the trend becomes popular, we will outgrow the space which is OneWorld.”

“Create another dimension.”

“I shall have to.” He stroked his chin with a thumb and forefinger. “Let’s put aside the problem of Scourges, mates, and progeny for the moment. What else do we have?”

“A tsunami slammed into the west coast of Angor. Violence Village took the worst hit. Repairs are moving more slowly than I’d like. We could use your help.” She studied him as if he might be too weak.

“I think I can get it up to repair the village,” he snapped. After a slight wave of his hand, he said, “Done.”

“Simmer down. I didn’t mean to question your masculinity. We still have the same line-up of suspects. The Feard, Beatrix, and Yosef. Michael and Lucian. And, of course, me.”

Harmony? A suspect? No .

Ignoring her name on the list, he said, “Beatrix has made her anger known for millennia. She was my sister Melodia’s frequent lover and has not forgiven me for my Sibling’s departure from OneWorld. The love-besotted female never realized she was just one of many. And Yosef is a sneak. He plasters on a smile in my presence, but beneath it is seething hatred for me since his adored Prima left.”

“Why do you keep him on?”

The OC worked around holes in his memory, the tangle of events. A few more had to uncoil before he could reply.

“He is an able supreme commander of my winged squadrons. But it is irrelevant. Neither Beatrix nor Yosef is powerful enough to cause these problems.”

“Unless new skills have spontaneously generated.”

“Without my knowledge?” Click . A memory untangled. Possible?

“Yes. You missed knowing about The Retreat. What else?” Harmony arched her brows.

He shrugged and explored other suspects. “For centuries Dominion was angry about Gareth, but he is not a male to seek revenge. Elysium worries me, but he is only a danger to himself. Eternity weighs heavy on his shoulders. He is too mired in his own problems to do this. My sister Lumia mentored and trained Remiel.” He paused, grinning. “For a time, they were lovers. Of course, she drew paramours to her like Vast sunflies to ambrosia. Then she rejected Remi for Cael, whom my bronze-winged assassin had to extinct later when he turned Scourge. But Remi never seemed to blame me for the troubles. Ohngel could be pissed because I put him in stasis. I doubt it. And none of my winged assassins can make a Scourge.”

“Unless new skills have spontaneously generated.”

“Is that going to be your answer to everything?”

“It’s a good one.”

“That leaves Michael and Lucian. And to borrow your explanation, Harmony, I ask whether they have developed gifts of which I am unaware?”

“To hide such strength takes willpower, planning, and malice.”

The OneCreator lobbed a leg over the arm of his chair, his most comfortable position for thinking. “Lucian has rebelled before.”

“Such is his nature, but beware the monster who hides behind an innocent, shining mask. The perpetrator could be Michael. He was hasty to extinct Malacour without getting answers from the Scourge. Perhaps he had good reason.”

The OC nodded. Was he forgetting something important? Michael. A memory twisted as he explored a path. He could not retrieve it.

Harmony shrugged, recrossing her shapely legs. “How did Malacour get through the gateway out of Angor unharmed? He should have fried. Another mystery. If only Michael hadn’t acted in haste.” Harmony tossed out a surprise question unrelated to the conversation. “Do you miss them?”

Again the OneCreator understood who she meant. He combed fingers through his golden hair, giving himself time to consider. “I do. Terribly. They are always in my thoughts. I miss Prima’s exuberant dances. I miss Melodia’s voice. I miss Lumia’s wit. I miss my brother Chaos, his grim but sage wisdom. His sly humor. They were my rocks. They were the only beings like me. When Kalia and Chaos were no more, my sisters provided solace.” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “I am bone tired, Harmony, as if an infection runs through me.”

“Though you cannot be ill, you somehow are.”

“Indeed. Back to our list. No one on it can create a Scourge or a hybrid Scourge like Madeline.”

“Unless their powers have exploded spontaneously. And you refuse to consider me. I’m insulted. I should be on your list. Michael, Lucian, and the Feard are the most powerful Immortals in OneWorld. And I am nearly their match. In these many millennia, I have grown.” Harmony’s voice rose to punctuate his omission of her name.

“Have you gained gifts of which I am unaware?”

She tapped her chest. “Sometimes, I feel a strange vibration here, as if I am growing. As of now, nothing else.”

“Life is a gift, Harmony, whether it comes at my hand or from the love of two beings. Growth is part of that gift. You are not who you were eons ago. Neither am I. Joy has exited our lives, and sometimes has entered. Change is to be expected, to be treasured.”

“Not when it’s bad. You need to get into our minds. Read our thoughts.”

He shook his head. “What if I don’t like what I find there? I could not bear betrayal from some of my beloved Immortals, your betrayal. I missed my friend and confidant when you were a Scourge those many centuries. The days were dreary. The nights long. I have lost a brother and three sisters, but still I treasure the Immortals I fashioned. And you, among all, are loved.” He patted her hand.

She gasped, her chest expanding with a rapid intake of air. “What did you just do?”

“I gave you the power to extinct.”

Harmony shot to her feet. “Are you insane? After what I told you?”

“I trust you without question, whether or not I see into your mind, and I need strong fighters. I fear what lies ahead may be the biggest challenge OneWorld has faced. Now, congratulations. What shall we call you?”

She resettled in her seat with a resigned sigh. “As your representative in Angor, I am known as the Dispatcher. That works as my new title, as well.”

He paused, his chin dipping to his chest. “So be it. I am weary and must lie abed.”

He sensed Harmony’s worried eyes follow him as he left the room. They had once had an affair. It had burned too brightly and too fast. She was not Kalia, but in his ignorance or hubris, he’d not seen that. He had seen the lush body but had missed the keen intellect, the wit, and the heart.

Never before these days had he felt the burden of ruling. The mantle was heavy. And he was... He paused, searching his memory.

What am I? Oh, yes. I am ill.

The End