“He’s right,” Bit’rudam moaned. An enemy warrior grabbed at his injured leg to pull him off the zhulong. He kicked the man away, and Mahi finished him.
“Find the King at the keep,” Torsten said. “We need you…” he paused as an enemy charged him. His mighty blade swung in a wide arc, catching the man off guard with his range and gashing his gut. Other enemy combatants circled Torsten, keeping their distance as they watched their ally fall to his knees, cradling his entrails.
“We need you both alive!” Torsten finished.
Mahraveh bit her lip. But before she could respond, the distant roars of the Current Eaters rampaging within the arena were no longer so distant. She noticed Bit’rudam’s eyes widen with unfamiliar terror in her peripherals. All three of the legendary beasts broke through the side of the Tal’du Dromesh at the same time, masses of razor-sharp tentacles slashing everything in their paths. Massive chunks of stone and lengths of columns blew off the walls with them, flattening Shesaitju on both sides as they landed and rolled.
Babrak, self-proclaimed man of the people, brought everyone together so he could heartlessly sacrifice whoever he needed to. The horrifying Current Eater, which landed in the center of the battleground, roared, its spittle and stench dousing the square.
Mahi didn’t fear it, but her zhulong did. She felt its muscles tense before it tucked tail and bolted. It turned so abruptly, Bit’rudam was thrown aside. She would’ve joined him if she hadn’t grasped a handful of its mane with one hand.
The beast rampaged through her army, and it wasn’t alone. The zhulong cavalry was driven into hysterics as well, squealing in terror. Mahi had been around the creatures her entire life and had never heard them release such a sound. She attempted to calm hers, to no avail. So, she tried to leap off onto a market stand canvas, and as she did, one of the Current Eaters bellowed again, and her zhulong made a sharp turn.
Her foot twisted, getting caught in its stirrup. She hung off the side as the zhulong bounded down alleyways. She tightened her core, crunching to avoid hitting buildings, all while trying to tear free.
Another zhulong raced in front of hers and broke through a stand. The canvas awning collapsed atop it, forcing it into a wild spin. Its tusks stabbed hard into Mahi’s mount, and together, they spun. Before Mahi knew it, she was careening through the air, landing hard against a rock formation.
Rubbing her dizzy head, she worked her way to her knees, and from her low vantage, saw the battle she’d just been ejected from. Once the Current Eaters had entered the fray, everything changed. Their tentacles raked everyone aside, showing no prejudice—Serpent Guards, Shieldsmen, everyone had to fend for themselves.
She clambered higher up the rocks to get a better view. Her presence alone would help nothing. She needed to devise a strategy and fast.
The crest of the formation didn’t offer any answers. It did, however, allow Mahi to see over the bluffs to the Boiling Waters, where Latiapur’s defensive navy had somehow not noticed the approaching fleet. Her ships converged toward the mouth of the arena where the attack had originated.
Waves pushed out in a straight line from that point, rocking her fleet violently. One slammed into the bluffs. Another’s sails were ripped to shreds. One of Babrak’s warships sailed toward the palace, somehow unaffected, that same mystic on the front holding her arms out wide.
Waves didn’t naturally behave in such a singular manner. They weren’t only big, but forceful, radiating off of the ship like magic.
Mahi turned back to the city, where one of the Current Eaters broke through further and rampaged through the markets. The thing was pinned with hundreds of arrows and still hadn’t slowed.
Destruction rained down everywhere. Chaos in the streets, barbed arrows in the sky, mythical monsters, cartwheeling through Latiapur, a place where no battle was to be done outside of Tal’du Dromesh. The old ways were officially over, but Mahi was afraid of what the new would genuinely look like.
That was when Mahi realized… no strategy could get them out of this. The enemy’s magic could manipulate even the waves.
So, she ran along the ridge of the bluffs, hopping from point to point, racing toward the Boiling Keep. Hundreds lived there, and bells within the high dome bellowed as the city remained on alert. It was time for them to signal retreat and get the King to safety.
Mahi squeezed through a narrow pass in the rocks, then leaped down to the palace steps where warriors posted in the palace were set up in layers to prepare a final defense.
Mahi grabbed a former afhem. “Call a retreat,” she ordered. “Everyone. The entire city.”
“My Caleef, we can hold the Keep,” he protested.
“We won’t. Is the King inside?”
“The Glass boy?” the former afhem asked, not masking his disdain. “Not at all.”
Mahi grunted in frustration. “North. Tell everyone to flee north by land.” The Current Eaters were sea creatures. As little as Mahi knew about them, she had to believe that land was their best option for escape.
“To what end, my Caleef?”
“White Bridge.” Then she turned and shouted, “Abandon the city! Abandon Latiapur.” Her voice carried to the dock lifts where soldiers prepared to descend and take more ships out to their doom.
She yelled it to warriors, to the few posted Serpent Guards, to servants and dockworkers.
Abandon Latiapur… Words she never thought she’d utter, words her father nor any of the proud afhems ever would’ve dreamed of until their ranks were broken entirely, and they were forced to surrender like Sidar Rakun.
Shoving aside the entry gates, Mahi shouted louder than ever. She swept into the entry hall and was surprised to find it full. Dozens of sages were present, kowtowing toward the imagery carved on each column, praying in Saitjuese. Some had nigh’jel blood dripping from their wrists as they sacrificed the creatures to the Current. Some clutched prayer bracelets made of varied shells.
“Everyone, to the city gates,” Mahi demanded. Unlike the warriors and servants, none budged. Across the room, however, she saw that a young Shieldsman—the one who’d arrived with Torsten—clutched one sage by the folds of his robes and appeared to be threatening him.
“Shieldsman, have you seen King Pi?” she asked. “We must abandon the city.”
He dropped the sage and turned to her, face bruised, eyes wide with panic. “Sir Unger said he’d be here, but nobody has seen him. None of these useless priests will say anything!”
Mahi regarded the sage recovering on the floor. “You all have to leave as well.”
“We cannot, My Caleef,” the sage replied softly, calm as ever. “Our lives were offered to serve he or she, who inhabits this palace. We will never abandon it.”
“You’d rather die?” Memories from other Caleef’s flashed through Mahi’s mind. It was faint as always, but she could see sages remaining put while generational storms ravaged Latiapur and King Liam’s army marched outside, the only other times the city had been emptied. None ever ran.
“On the Current, we never die,” he said.
Mahi clenched her jaw. The floor quaked as the roar of a Current Eater rang out, and it continued to wreck through the beloved city. The sages didn’t even wince.
“You stubborn men,” Mahi said. “She’s come here for her brother. She wants the Current. You’ll die for nothing.”
“Only the God of Sand and Sea can control it,” the man said.
“Caliphar is dead!” She shouted, pushing him off. They looked at her like she was crazed. “Then at least make yourselves useful and get everyone out of the Keep. All of you can stay to die, but we need every willing man and woman alive.”
“Yes, my Caleef.”
“All of you. Go.”
The sages rose upon her request, each of them scattering into the halls. Even Mahi had no idea how many people lived in the palace. She never needed to. She’d never wanted the service that so many so willingly offered just because of her title.
/> “They don’t matter,” the Shieldsman insisted. He pushed by one and clutched her arm, and not even her glower could back him off. He didn’t seem to care. “Where in Iam’s name is the King. If you did—“
“What would I gain from harming him now?” Mahi hissed, yanking her arm away. He was lucky they needed everyone they could get. “Have you checked the throne room?”
“It was locked, and none of those fools would let me check.”
“I can get in. Search his temporary quarters; I’ll check there.”
His lip twisted. She could tell he didn’t trust her in the slightest, but after a few long seconds, he offered a reluctant nod and headed toward the western stairwell.
Mahi pushed through the scrambling sages across the golden floors of the vast entry hall to the great doors of the throne room. If they’d been locked, they no longer were.
Passing through the doors, she froze almost immediately. Babrak stood near the coral throne, running his hand along the arm. He remained oblivious to her even though there was no way he hadn’t heard the doors creak. A few sages lay dead on the floor, their blood making iridescent puddles on the gold floor and streaming toward the Sea Door like a drain. Pi’s body wasn’t present amongst them, nor were any of her warriors.
“You,” Mahi spat.
Babrak turned, sneering. He had Mahi’s spear—which she’d left balanced across her throne—gripped in both hands, spinning it to test the weight. His spiked leather armor hugged his oversized frame. His neck was the size of a man’s thigh, and fresh scars from his battles with both Mahi and Muskigo covered the parts of his torso that were exposed.
Worse than it all, however, was that his skin was coated in nigh’jel blood, making it black like hers. The coat was lumpy, sloppy, and peeling off in spots, but his intent at claiming Caleefdom was clear. Again, everything else in her life faded away. The battle, the King—everything. There was only him.
“How did you get here?” she asked. She spread her feet shoulder-width to keep her base beneath her and slowly shuffled in. Her eyes darted from side to side, checking the spaces behind the columns encircling the area to ensure they were alone.
“There are many secret routes throughout the city a child like you wouldn’t know,” he replied.
“Not smart to come alone.”
“Somehow, I knew the Current would lead us both here.” He tested the tip of Mahi’s spear with his finger, drawing a pinpoint of blood.
“You destroyed everything we stand for.”
“I saved what we stand for!” he snapped. “While you and your father erased history and joined a war against a goddess with no concern over us.”
“She’ll destroy us.”
“She’s giving me Latiapur.”
“A city that no longer has inhabitants.”
He sighed, gaze dropping to the ground. He actually looked remorseful, which made Mahi’s blood boil even more than she thought possible.
“A small price to pay to rectify so many wrongs,” he said softly. “But we will be all the stronger for it. She, sister of the God of Sand and Sea—who has abandoned us—has named me Caleef. Helping destroy the Glass for her is a fair trade.”
“You didn’t even want to rebel.”
“I didn’t want to lose,” he corrected. “Now, we can’t. They’ll drown on their own greed, and from the ashes, the Black Sands will rise! Don’t make the same mistakes as your father, Mahraveh. Surrender your title, and you can be a part of it. You can stand at my side as—“
“As your whore?” she interrupted, fuming.
“As my Queen. Think of what we could do together. All Pantego will tremble. This vengeful goddess? After she wipes the Glass away, even she couldn’t stand against us.”
“No, Babrak. I will take you with my bare hands, and you will face the Dagger of Damikmagrin. You will be wiped from this realm for all eternity, and not even that is a fate worthy enough.”
His remorse deepened as he nodded. “You are your father’s daughter.”
“No, I am Caleef.”
Babrak regarded the spear one last time, then tossed it longways in Mahi’s direction. It rolled across the floor, stopping against her foot. She didn’t bend to grab it. Not with him in the room. He couldn’t be trusted to a fair fight.
“Take it,” he said.
“I don’t need a weapon to kill you,” Mahi replied.
“My Caleef!” someone shouted, throwing open the throne room doors. Bit’rudam hurried to her side, angling his sickle-blade in front of her. “Mahraveh, everyone is in full retreat. We have to go.”
“Not without him dead,” she said.
“What a lovely reunion,” Babrak laughed. “You’ll both find I won’t be so easy to beat without a cowardly ambush.”
“Mahraveh, go! I’ll handle him,” Bit’rudam said. “The Serpent Guard awaits you.”
“We’ll take him together. It ends today.”
“Two on one?” Babrak clicked his tongue. “Now, that’s not fair, is it?”
His grin stretched from ear to ear. Electricity crackled through the Sea Door as if lightning somehow struck from below. Then, the red-robed mystic rose through, hands glowing with raw, magical energy. Her eyes were black as Mahi’s own skin, expressionless, like that of the Current Eaters.
“So, this is the child that our brother chose to carry his flame?” the mystic said, her voice laced with an ethereal quality. It echoed from every direction. “She’s so scrawny.”
“They’re mine, demon,” Babrak said.
“Demon? I’m so much more than that.” The ancient-looking mystic’s already cold glare darkened. She hovered above the Sea Door, embers floating all around her. Then she snapped her finger, and a wave of fire erupted forth.
“Mahi!”
Bit’rudam rammed her out of the way. She couldn’t feel the elements through her Caleef skin until then, but the mystical fire was so hot. Her spear remained on the ground and immediately was reduced to ash, the blade liquified.
“Coward!” Mahi screamed as her hands scraped along the floor.
“We need to go!” Bit’rudam said. Getting his arms around her, he lifted and dragged her toward the exit. As he did, the mystic again unleashed a swath of magical destruction.
“No, they’re mine!” Babrak protested. He went to block her, but she waved her arm and flung him aside with an unseen force. Her other hand then extended, and lightning coruscated out.
Bit’rudam threw his blade up, absorbing the electricity and delaying the surge enough for them to get out. The rest of the magic splashed against the throne room doors. Mahi managed to close them just in time.
“Come on,” Bit’rudam yelled.
Mahi glanced back, and the doors burst open with a gust of wind as strong as any storm she’d ever encountered. She and Bit’rudam were thrown forward, barely able to stay on their feet.
Blood-soaked Serpent Guards rushed in and formed a line, crouching to brave the gale. Mahi found her balance behind them. The mystic floated within the entry. She barely seemed drained at all, even after using so much of her strength disguising an entire fleet within a storm of her creation. In all the legends of the mystics Mahi had heard, they were never capable of so much magic without rest.
Armor clattered as the Serpent Guards prepared to face the woman. Mahi glared straight at Babrak.
“Congratulations, Babrak,” Mahi called to him. “You will be King of nothing.”
He only stared, silent. The mystic stretched her slender fingers and rolled her neck. Her feet lowered to the ground, and she breathed in deeply as her arms extended in front of her.
Mahi saw no more. Bit’rudam pulled her out of the palace, and only the sounds of the mystic’s magic could be heard.
No screams.
Only the jangle of armored bodies dropping.
XXII
The Mystic
The fire above still raged. Since the moment their cart parked back in the main hall, Sora, Lucindur, and
Tum Tum had been treated with abuse, being shoved and prodded. King Lorgit kept silent the whole time, and barely seemed affected by his throne room being in flames, which troubled Sora.
His clanbreakers flanked them on both sides. They were as disciplined as any Glass soldier, but Sora imagined under all that armor, they were infinitely more fierce.
Sora felt trickles of water on her skin as mist rose from the large pool in the center of Balonhearth, catching the downpour from the mounted dwarf head above. It practically sizzled off her, skin still hot from her magic, like her very blood was on fire.
All around them, merchants, tinkers, traders, and miners by the dozens passed by. All watched as an odd set of humans were rushed along by the King himself. It must have been, to them, quite a sight.
Sora found it odd that there were no women in the lot.
“Tum Tum,” Sora whispered. “Where are all your women?”
“What do ye mean? They be everywhere!” He added a quick wink at Brouben.
Brouben, in turn, tried to quiet them, but it didn’t work.
Sora gave Tum Tum an incredulous stare.
Tum Tum nodded toward one. “Right there. And there. And walkin toward us here. Don’t look now; she’s a good-lookin one.”
Despite Tum Tum’s instructions, Sora followed his motions and saw a dwarf lumbering in their general direction.
“I said don’t look.” Tum Tum palmed his forehead.
“That’s… that’s a female?”
“Aye, ain’t she just!” Tum Tum elbowed Brouben, whose face went red. Brouben quickly composed himself, glanced toward his father, who strode ahead of them with determination.
She had long, blonde, braided hair and a matching beard that cascaded down to her ample belly. Resting on her shoulder, she clung to a giant water tankard Sora assumed would be used to help put out the fire she’d created. She had droopy eyes and a bulbous nose that covered her mustache like an awning. One thing was sure: there was nothing to distinguish her from the men.
The Nesilia's War Trilogy: (Buried Goddess Saga Box Set: Books 4-6) Page 137
