Nemesis

by Kat Ross

“Fucking great,” Rhea muttered.

  Nazafareen raised an eyebrow. Her language had grown saltier since she’d been spending time with Katrin.

  “What about Vatra scouts?” she asked.

  “They avoid the Red Hills. But I’ll range ahead to make sure.”

  “No, you won’t.” Darius took a step forward, blue eyes chips of ice. “You’re not leaving us alone. Anything could be waiting in there.”

  Nicodemus’s face darkened. He still wore the faded bruises from his beating.

  “If I wanted you dead, you would be. I could have left you in that cellar, let the wyrms come for you. I could have let you both drown in the sands—”

  “It’s not a matter of trust,” Nazafareen interrupted, before they ended up fighting again. “But he’s right. No more ranging ahead. We go together or not at all.”

  Nicodemus scowled and stalked away. He stopped on a rise, scanning the badlands. Darius watched him go, a muscle in his jaw working.

  “I want to know what a bloody drake is,” he muttered, heading after Nicodemus. Nazafareen considered following him, then decided not to. Let them hash it out on their own.

  She turned to Galen. He sat on a flat rock, pulling his boots off and shaking the sand out. Tattered cloth rags bound his feet. He unwound them and she winced. Half the toes were gone. The skin looked healed, but she knew what it was to lose a piece of yourself.

  She wondered what had transpired at Val Moraine after Victor took the keep. He wouldn’t have been gentle, but she hoped this wasn’t his doing.

  “What happened?” she asked, sitting down next to him.

  Galen glanced over. “Frostbite.”

  “Oh.”

  He kneaded the stumps, then started rewrapping his feet. More scraps of cloth filled the toes of his boots.

  “Does it hurt?”

  “Sometimes. But the pain is in my mind.” His gaze slid across her stump. “Do you ever feel your hand?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I did once.” She felt a familiar surge of frustration. “I can’t remember having a right hand at all.”

  Rhea and Katrin had wandered over to the others and they were alone for the first time. Galen seemed to gird himself. He looked angry and ashamed. “Listen, I didn’t know about the chimera. I wouldn’t have helped Eirik if I had. Never.” A shadow crossed his face. “I’ve lost more than you know, Nazafareen. I’m not asking you to forgive me, but—”

  She was spared from answering by Darius, who called them over. Galen yanked his boots on, his face pink. She thought of the superior grin he used to wear. The sly mockery in his tone when he spoke to Darius. Recent events had taken him down several notches, but she wondered if that person still lurked inside.

  When she reached Darius and Nicodemus, they were conferring together without rancor, studying the maze of canyons ahead. And therein lay the difference between Victor’s sons, she thought. One was a boy, and the other a man.

  “We’ll make for the gullies,” Nicodemus said, shouldering his pack. “I know a route through. It’s only half a day’s walk to the other side.”

  He set a brisk pace, the sun a blazing forge overhead. When they reached the shade of the first gorge, Nazafareen heaved a sigh of relief. It was about twenty paces wide and wound through high, jagged escarpments on either side. The walls had been worn smooth and had a reddish cast, layered with strata of blue and grey.

  Nicodemus set a course through the canyon, the sky a white ribbon far overhead. It narrowed and then widened again, branching into three other canyons. He hesitated for a moment, then chose the middle one. They walked for a time in silence. The only thing they encountered was a large web with a small brown spider in the center.

  “Don’t break it,” Nicodemus said, ducking under one side.

  “Is it poisonous?” Nazafareen asked, following his lead.

  “Very. But she won’t mess with you if you don’t mess with her.”

  The deeper they went into the Red Hills, the longer he paused when they encountered places where secondary ravines cut through. Twice, he chose one way and then changed his mind, backtracking with an irritated expression. Nazafareen felt sure they were lost when the ravine widened and he turned to her with a grin.

  Nicodemus pointed. “Do you see the rock formation that looks like a spire?” Nazafareen nodded. “This is the halfway mark. I passed it with Domitia.”

  “And when we get to the other side?”

  “It flattens out. Gaius’s burrow is a few leagues off.”

  “What about scouts?”

  Raised voices made them turn. Katrin and Galen were staring at each other. Galen’s face had gone white.

  “You’re just like your father. A murderer with no honor.” Katrin spat on the ground. “You blow with the wind.”

  “And you helped make the chimera to hunt Darius and Nazafareen,” Galen grated. “Don’t pretend you’re better than me.”

  Katrin’s gaze narrowed. “I pretend nothing,” she said stiffly. “But do not think we are alike in any way. I’d sooner trust the Vatra.”

  “You Valkirins are all the same. Think the bloody moons shine out of your ass. Well, I’ll tell you something—”

  Their angry voices echoed through the canyon.

  “He tried to befriend her,” Rhea whispered. “Asked if she’d been weak in air power. I guess it’s a sore spot.”

  Nazafareen looked at Galen, bemused and annoyed at the same time. He seemed destined to always do precisely the wrong thing.

  “I’m glad I didn’t break his block,” she said. “Imagine if the two of them decided to settle it with the power.”

  Darius shook his head wearily. “I’d rather not.”

  An instant later, Nicodemus strode between Galen and Katrin, his face white with fury.

  “Shut the hell up,” he growled. “You’ll get us all killed. It might look empty out here, but it’s not, you got me?”

  Katrin opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. She glared at Galen, who looked ready to chew rocks.

  “You two, come with me.” Nicodemus stabbed a finger at Katrin and Rhea. “We’ll take a look ahead.” He muttered something that sounded like fucking children and stomped away.

  “Go on,” Nazafareen told Rhea. “We’ll wait here. It won’t hurt to scout the terrain.”

  Rhea gave a quick nod and laid her hand on Katrin’s arm. The Valkirin blew out a breath.

  “The Vatra’s right,” she said. “Eirik would have knocked our heads together and sent us out for a nice long run in the snow. Naked.”

  Rhea grinned. “Would he really?”

  “I should tell you about the time he caught Culach and Petur scaling the battlements. They were stinking drunk, of course, and Culach thought it would be funny to sneak into Gerda’s chambers….” Her voice dwindled as they followed Nicodemus around the next bend.

  Nazafareen looked for Galen but he’d taken off too, standing with his back turned at the other end of the canyon.

  “Let him stand guard,” she said, dropping her pack with a sigh. “I’m happy to rest for a spell.”

  “We should have come alone,” Darius said. “Forget Gaius. I might kill the two of them first.”

  She couldn’t argue with that sentiment.

  “Got any food left?” she asked hopefully.

  “Some bread. It’s hard.”

  “I don’t care.”

  He broke it in half and handed her a piece. Nazafareen bit down and grimaced. She studied the lump of bread.

  “Do you see my tooth? I think it’s in there somewhere.”

  Darius gave a half smile. “The dried meat is worse. Better suited for a saddle than supper.”

  She set the bread aside and rested her head on her pack. “If you happen to see a bush rat wander by, let me know.” Her stomach rumbled. “Or anything that looks the least bit edible. I’m not picky.”

  Darius leaned back next to her, propping his head on a bent elbow. He’d pushed his shirtsleeves up and his le
ft arm lay dead against his side—the price he paid for the bond. How Nazafareen wished it maimed her instead.

  “I’ve been thinking,” he said. “When this is over, there’s little to keep us here. My clan is gone. And Victor…. He’s made his own choice. Would you be willing to leave?”

  “Return to the Empire?”

  “It’s not the Empire anymore.”

  She considered this. “I would like to see the mountains I grew up in.”

  “The Khusk Range is a beautiful place.”

  “I wish I could remember it,” she said with sudden bitterness.

  “Maybe going back would help.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “You told me you had a brother named Kian. We could look for him.”

  Kian. She tried to picture his face, but all she saw was a shadow. A shadow with flames for eyes.

  “Darius?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “What if the Viper is waiting for us? What if he wears Gaius’s body?”

  “You’re wondering if he can be killed.”

  She nodded.

  “I don’t know. You drove him back once.”

  The memory of that day threatened to sweep over her and Nazafareen pushed it away.

  “My breaking power is strong here. I think I could shatter the flows of twenty Vatras.” She paused, considering. “If I do find him, I’ll throw it all at him.”

  He gave her a sharp look. “Be careful, Nazafareen. There’s no gate to the moonlands here. Don’t draw too much.”

  “I think I’m past that point now.” She sighed. “But I’ll do my best.”

  He looked stricken and she changed the subject.

  “Something should be done for the Vatras. It isn’t right to make the ones who knew nothing of the war suffer so. Especially the children.”

  Darius rubbed his forehead. “Domitia killed five hundred Danai alone. All it takes is one of them.”

  “I know. But maybe the talismans can do something about the Kiln. Bring water and shade. Hunt down the monsters who terrorize the Vatras.”

  “It’s a kind thought. But that would require Katrin and Galen to work together, and you to break his block.” He studied the narrow band of sky above, white against the dark rim of the canyon. “What did Galen say to you?”

  “That he was sorry. I think he is.” She looked at Darius. “He’s been punished. More than I would have wished for.”

  “Galen is a troubled man.”

  He stiffened an instant before a shadow passed across the sun. Darius leapt to his feet. There wasn’t a cloud in sight.

  Then they heard Galen yelling.

  25

  Spawn of the Kiln

  Galen stood with a hand cupped over his eyes, the strong muscles of his neck cording as he scanned the ribbon of sky overhead.

  “Something’s up there,” he said as Nazafareen and Darius approached.

  “Did you see it?” Darius asked.

  Galen shook his head, pushing back a lock of dark hair. “Not clearly. But it’s big. At least five times the size of an abbadax, I’d reckon.”

  “A drake,” Darius said grimly.

  Nazafareen looked down the canyon, hoping to see their companions, but Nicodemus, Rhea and Katrin were nowhere in sight.

  “How do you kill it?” she asked.

  “You don’t. The Vatra said they have an armored carapace. If there’s a vulnerability, he doesn’t know what it is.”

  “We have to find the others.” Nazafareen grabbed her rucksack and slung it over one shoulder. “Stay close to the walls.”

  They moved in single file through the canyon, which began to gradually widen. The ground was made up of hard-packed dirt and rocks, with occasional tumbles of boulders that they had to scramble to cross. Nazafareen was picking her way across one when the light flickered. She looked up quickly, but whatever it was had already passed.

  “It’s stalking us,” Darius said softly. “Hurry.”

  They broke into a trot, pressing against the walls when the creature passed over. It was too fast to make out, but she could sense its watchful presence.

  “Where the hell is the Vatra?” Darius growled.

  “He won’t abandon us,” Galen said, stubbornly loyal to the man who’d freed him.

  But Nazafareen wondered. She should never have let them go on ahead. Would Nicodemus lead them into a trap? He was a Vatra, after all. She tried to imagine him overpowering Katrin and Rhea, but it didn’t seem likely. Rhea fought like a demon with her staff and Katrin was famous even among the Valkirins for her skill with a sword. Plus she had a greater measure of power than any of them.

  Nazafareen set her doubts aside as they reached a place where the ravine broadened and then branched into two passages barely wider than crevices. The ground ahead was open but the walls rose steeply on all sides. They paused under the shelter of a deep overhang.

  “Which way did Nicodemus go?” she asked Darius.

  “To the left,” he replied, keen eyes scanning the canyon. “I can see scuffmarks in the dirt.”

  Nazafareen hunched lower, her pack dragging against her back, a rabbit wondering if it dared make a run for its hole. And then she felt a sudden tug, deep inside where the breaking power lived.

  She peered into the shadowy recess. The walls sloped sharply inward. At the very back lay a rectangle of pure darkness, solid and unmoving. Her huo mofa stirred again. Just the faintest twinge—but she sensed something. The echoes of old magic. She tugged at Darius’s sleeve and pointed.

  “Look. I think it’s a gate,” she whispered. “Or was.”

  If they hadn’t stopped, she might have walked right past it.

  Darius and Galen turned from their study of the canyons and leaned into the darkness. She suddenly saw the resemblance between them, in the identical way they moved, the set of their broad shoulders. The intent, wary expressions.

  “Gates need water to stay open,” Darius murmured. “I’d guess it’s been dry for centuries.”

  “Don’t get too close,” Galen warned as Nazafareen took a step forward. “I don’t like the look of it.”

  She stopped a few feet away. The fractured magic set her teeth on edge. It was like listening to the endless drone of a fly. She tore her gaze away and returned to the entrance.

  “I vote we keep going,” she said. “Find the others. They can’t be far ahead. We need to warn them about the drake and we’re better off fighting together, if it comes to that.”

  “Agreed,” Darius said.

  They both looked at Galen.

  “Nicodemus said drakes were cunning. What if it’s waiting for us to come into the open?” he grumbled. “I think we should wait here, where it’s safe.”

  “We don’t know it’s safe,” Darius pointed out with a touch of impatience. “And we have a broken gate at our backs. I don’t particularly want to be driven toward it.”

  “Fine.” Galen glanced at the left-branching crevice, which lay about a hundred paces away. “I’ll go first then.”

  They studied the skies above. Nothing moved. The silence was absolute.

  Galen shouldered his pack, drew a deep breath, and darted across the canyon. He moved with liquid speed and gained the other side in a matter of seconds.

  “You next, Nazafareen,” Darius said. “I’ll watch your back.”

  She gave a firm nod. “Give me a kiss for good luck.”

  Darius pulled her close, his mouth warm against hers. “Go,” he whispered.

  She ran forward, keeping her gaze on Galen, who beckoned encouragingly. The terrain was strewn with boulders piled helter-skelter atop each other. She wove around them, boots pounding against the dry earth. Light hit her face as the sun peeked over the rim of the canyon. Halfway across, she encountered a scree of loose pebbles and slid but managed to recover without falling. The last fifty paces looked easier. Relatively flat and open.

  Almost there.

  When the drake came, it was with shocking speed—a strea
k of movement erupting from the far edge of the canyon. It alit with a flap of leathery wings that raised a cloud of dust. She skidded to a stop too fast, one leg twisting beneath her. Fire swept through her knee. She reached for Nemesis but the baldric had gotten tangled up with straps of her rucksack.

  The drake had a golden mane but its body resembled a scaled green serpent—thrice the size of a draft horse. It slithered forward, wings folded against its sides. Huge silver eyes flecked with copper regarded her, full of ancient intelligence. Clear liquid dripped from its fangs. Where it struck the ground, the rock melted with a hiss.

  Behind her, Darius shouted a warning. She spared a glance over her shoulder. A second drake wriggled through the canyon they’d come from, its massive body filling the space nearly from edge to edge. It must have entered at one of the wider points farther down. Darius had his knife out, but it was scarcely larger than one of the drake’s teeth.

  Nazafareen muttered a curse. She turned back and scanned the opposite ravine for Galen but didn’t see him. He must have run to find the others.

  Or to save his own skin.

  She backed away as the drake advanced. From the corner of her eye, she could see Darius dodge snapping strikes by the second drake, his speed and agility the only things keeping him alive. She gripped Nemesis in her sweaty hand, searching for some weakness, something to stab. The silver eyes might be vulnerable, but she couldn’t imagine getting close enough to find out.

  So she retreated and the drake advanced, its gaze never leaving her for an instant. Another shuffling step and the rock wall dug into her back. She searched desperately on either side for a crack she might wiggle into but the overhang they’d stopped at was at least twenty paces away and the rest of the cliff face stretched unbroken.

  No battle’s won in bed.

  Nazafareen snarled and raised her sword. The sky grew suddenly dark.

  For fuck’s sake, not a third one, she thought wearily.

  A drop of rain hit her face. Then two more. She risked a quick glance upwards. Dark clouds boiled over the ravine. With a great clap of thunder, the skies opened. Heavy rain began to fall, dashing on the arid ground and cascading down the walls of the canyon. The drake paused, chuffing uncertainly. She wondered how long it had been since the beast saw rain. By the looks of that gate, a very long time indeed.