Dior set the bags of mulch onto the rooftop. “More?” He asked the man who was supervising the efforts of the workers of this building.
“That should do it,” the man wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his hand. “Thank you.”
Both of their attention was drawn upwards as two shadows passed over them. Cael and Ashlynn landed lightly on the other end of the roof and strolled through the garden beds with interest.
“A clever idea,” Ashlynn said with approval as she drew close enough to speak. “And fascinating to watch. It seems as if the entire population of the city gathers on their rooftops today.”
She did not exaggerate. Whilst they had been away, the humans and Others of the city had been busy, and truckloads of mulch, fertilizer, and equipment for constructing planter boxes, as well as rainwater tanks, were being transported across the city to the buildings where the engineers amongst them had established had the weight tolerances to support water tanks and gardens. They just required assistance getting the larger or heavier items to the rooftops.
“You have come to bring me to Elior,” Dior decided. “To speak of plans for attacking the Nephilim.”
“That is correct, stone heart,” Cael replied cheerfully. “Bring your pretty plaything too.”
“All my mates are pretty,” Dior chuckled. “But I presume you mean Charon.”
He saw Etienne land on a building to his left, dropping the bags he carried with an attitude of disgust, and then take immediately back into the air. He grinned. He had seen the delivery of fertilizer arrive and had taken one whiff and volunteered to lift the bags of potting mix instead.
“Very well,” Dior refocused on the vampire hybrids. “I will bring Charon. I need to speak with Elior anyway.”
“Half an hour?” Ashlynn asked.
“Approximately,” Dior agreed.
He watched them land on the roof of Elior’s building, nudging and teasing each other, before throwing their arms around each other as they made their way towards the stairwell. He wondered if Elior ever envied his mates the ability to fly. He would have to ask Verity, he thought as he took to the air, searching the rooftops and streets for sign of Charon, before spotting him on the balcony of their building.
Charon saw him approaching and waited for him, leaning against the balustrade, straightening when Dior landed and reached out to capture the lion’s head between his hand, planting a kiss on the stone snarl. “I just brought Verity back for a rest. She grows tired when she uses her power so much, and she has been growing plants all morning.”
Dior did not doubt that Charon had spent some time in the nest with Verity before leaving. “Is she asleep?” He asked.
“Soundly,” Charon’s grin was a wry acknowledgement that Dior knew that he had f-ked their mate before leaving. “But I am sure that she will not mind if you wanted to wake her.”
“No, I came for you,” Dior replied. “Elior has requested we go speak with him.”
He saw the shift in Charon’s body language as the other man became wary. “About his plans to attack my people?” He asked.
“Yes,” Dior hesitated. “I spoke with Cael about opening you a portal. He requested I bring you. I assume because he intends to speak with us further about it.”
Charon closed his eyes and his knuckles whitened as he gripped the balustrade handrail. “I should be happy,” he said softly. “I want to bring my family here. But the idea of returning terrifies me when there is so much at risk.”
Dior shifted into man-form and put his arms around Charon. “I have reservations about this endeavour because of the risk to you. Mostly because I do not fully understand what danger is involved in you returning to your world in this way.”
Charon sighed and rested his forehead against Dior’s shoulder. “It is hard to explain to someone who hasn’t been there. Our realm is very different to here. Our aeries are a bit like your city, all built high, and with very few ground-level entrances. The slaves live in villages at the base of the aeries, or more rurally if they are involved in the production of food sources.
“Our technology and magic are not the same as here,” he wrapped his arms around Dior and gripped him tightly against him. “How risky it is, depends on how close to my family’s aerie Cael can open a portal. The less we have to travel too and from, the less we will be seen.
“Hopefully anyone who sees us will not identify us. Then I must convince my family to leave everything they hold precious, everything they cannot physically carry on them, and if they will not come immediately, or if they are not all home, I may have to arrange with Cael to risk it all again, and hope that no one has seen us, and interrogates my family, and that we are not betrayed before our return.”
Dior could feel his heart increasing and smell the distress on the winged man. “What is the alternative?” He asked him.
“There is no alternative,” Charon said grimly. “If I do not return, my sister will be forced to enter the next games. My father was wounded seven games ago and he is blind in one eye and cannot grip with one hand – the injuries disqualify him from re-entry. My mother played for him for two years, but she was bitten by something, and has never recovered from the toxicity.”
“It will just be the three of them?” Dior asked.
“And the four children,” Charon replied.
“Lots of young,” Dior said with approval. “Good. We will have many cubs, too, soon. Come,” he shifted back into gargoyle form. “We should go see what it is that Elior has to say.”
The armed guards on Elior’s door admitted them without checking within which said to Dior that they were expected. Indeed, Ashlynn and Cael flanked Elior’s armchair as was typical for the three. Vampire king, Dior thought with amusement.
Elior’s children occupied two of the other chairs, with Jacinta perched on the arm of Rebecca’s chair. Two witches and two warlocks flanked Theo on the couch, and Alatar and his mate sat on the other armchair.
“Kind of squishy in here,” Ashlynn commented. “Might need to de-stone, Dior.” She giggled at her own pun and nudged Elior. “Get it, our vampire?”
“Got it,” Cael smothered his laughter.
Elior rolled his eyes but smiled. “Thank you for joining us, Dior.”
Dior shifted into man-form. “We are all invested in a solution to this war.”
“Exactly,” Elior beamed. “Exactly, Dior. Nate, give Dior and his mate your seat, please.”
Nate rose, his expression sulky. “No Blaise?” He asked Dior.
“Blaise and Etienne are helping the people of our city to plant gardens on their rooftops,” Dior replied as he took the vacated seat. Charon sat on the arm of the chair and leaned against Dior’s shoulder. The lion gargoyle noted that the witches and warlocks were less than comfortable with his nudity and deliberately let his knees sag outward. With Charon leaning against him, carrying on his skin the scent of sex with Verity, Dior sported an impressive hard on, even by his standards. “The hunger of the city, Elior, is a topic which I am here to discuss,” he added looking at the vampire.
“How does the situation go with Raiden and the Nephilim?” Elior asked with interest.
“When we departed, they were amicable and united on the purpose of returning the farms and fields in the area to production,” Dior replied.
Elior considered. “I will release ten percent of the food I have in storage. In a week, we will check on Raiden’s position, and if we can arrange a influx of new food, then I will release the rest.”
“Perhaps,” Charon said. “Some of the people of the city could be encouraged to relocate to the town? The population there was low, and the werewolves can only supply so many of their number to aid in the production of food. Service from the city in return for food?”
“A good idea,” Elior agreed. “Complicated to implement. We would need to arrange transportation…” He looked to Rebecca who was writing notes on her mobile phone. “We will leave that in Rebecca’s hands.”
“Voluntary,” Dior spoke up. “Ensure that it is voluntary.”
“Of course,” Elior’s eyes flicked to Rebecca again and Dior saw her grimace and amend her notation. “Now, onto our plans – ”
“Let us talk about Cael assisting my mate to retrieve his family,” Dior said and saw from both Elior and Ashlynn’s expressions that they were avoiding doing exactly that.
“I am ready any time,” Cael announced. “Tomorrow if a portal opens? We can leave before midday and return by evening.”
“No, Cael,” Ashlynn protested.
Dior swallowed hard. “There are areas of concern,” he said.
“It is not a bad idea,” Theo said. “We do need to understand the cities of our enemies better. We could go, shielded,” he looked at the witches and warlocks to either side of him. “Whilst Cael and Charon address this family matter, we can determine what spells would be most impactful of the environment.”
Cael looked pained. “I dislike this idea,” he said to Elior. “If it were Charon and I, it reduces the danger. We know our people, we know how to blend in. We can open the portal, go to Charon’s home, collect his family, and leave. But if these,” he gestured his hand to the witches and warlocks. “Are caught, under torture they will reveal all and Charon and I will be endangered.”
Elior put his hand on Cael’s knee. “He is right,” he said to Theo. “Cael has explained in detail the aeries, the capital cities that we should target, the type of fortifications and defences of those cities, and the retaliation we should expect. You do not need to endanger his mission to satisfy your curiosity.”
“The mission would endanger the war,” Theo pointed out. “If your mates,” his eyes went from Elior to Dior and returned to the vampire. “Are captured, under torture they could reveal our plans. And all for the family of one man?” He raised his eyebrows.
“It cannot be done after,” Cael was certain of that. “It must be done whilst they open their own portals. They will not notice ours in the energy caused by a game portal. We can sneak into Charon’s city without them even knowing. And then, on the return trip, we will be through and home before they can react.”
Elior leaned back in his chair and looked up at his mate. Cael met his eyes and nodded emphatically. “I am overdue a return, anyway,” Cael told him. “If I do not go soon…”
“What will happen?” Theo asked with interest.
“Those of our kind with magic,” Charon said. “Need to renew their energy in the home realm regularly. It is one of the great equalizers of the games, supposedly,” he sneered the last word. “That prisoners of war eventually have no advantages over others like them. But those who have magic are usually wealthier citizens and are able to pay the fine, and if they find themselves in the game, it still takes time for their power to deplete, which gives them an initial advantage over the rest of us. Anyone who participates in the games know that the first twenty-four hours are vital, and after that the first seven days. If you survive that long, you have mastered the skills required to survive until the following year.”
“The werewolves said that your people migrated,” Dior remembered. “Towards the sunset. Is there a reason for that?”
“Of course,” both Cael and Charon answered and looked at each other in surprise, but it was Cael who continued. “The exit is always in the direction of sunset in that realm. The problem is that when you first enter a realm, you do not know where that direction is. However, if you have survived until the next games, you know that if you go approximately a day from the entry portal in the direction of sunset, the exit portal of the next games will open within an attainable distance.”
“Does time pass the same in each realm?” Theo wondered, fascinated.
“Of course, it does,” Cael looked at him as if he were slow on the uptake. “Otherwise, the rules of the game would not work.”
“But it is day here but on the other side of the world, it is night,” Theo pointed out.
“And if a portal opens on the other side of the world, those players have until the following night to exit,” Cael said as if that were obvious. “A second is still a second, a minute is still a minute, an hour is still an hour, and a day is still a day.”
“So, the portals do not open randomly?” He had Dior’s attention.
“Within the distance of a day’s journey, yet they open randomly,” Cael replied. “If it were not so, we would be able to anticipate the next location.”
“Hmm,” that matched Dior’s observations. “That would explain why the portals opening over our city is not daily.”
“Exactly,” Cael nodded crisply. “Random, but within a certain zone of the origin point.”
“So,” Elior said slowly. “We will leave the matter of Cael and Charon’s venture for the moment and discuss our plans towards retaliation.” Dior felt the shift of attention amongst those around him. “Cael has stated that, very much like our realm, there are certain cities that can be considered more vital to the Nephilim, capital cities in a way.
“The plan is, over the next few days, the coven,” he nodded to Theo. “Will assist with establishing world-wide communication with the other covens, and with Other organizations, with the goal being of, upon an agreed upon date, opening a portal into each of the major cities and unleashing upon them a range of interference.
“As Dior suggested previously,” he inclined his head to Dior. “We need the wide and varied talents of all the Other world, and the plan will be to open the portals, move in and cause as much damage as we can, and withdraw before they have a chance to retaliate.”
“And what do you think they will do?” Charon wondered.
“Retaliate,” Cael’s grin was vicious.
“And this is where the second stage comes in,” Elior added calmly. “When they open a portal into this realm, we need to have a co-ordinated force to respond. According to Cael, there are certain areas where it is simply easier to open portals to, and that is the reason that portals open here frequently. So, we have identified these points, and plan to have a force on standby at each point.
“When they retaliate to our attack, we will be ready for them, and, as this realm is open to the games, anyone they send through to us here, is subject to the rules of the games – which includes that if they fail to exit via the appropriate point within twenty-four hours, they become prisoners of war.
“Prisoners of war have one rule above all others,” Elior’s grin was feral. “To survive.”