Corruption of the Rose

by S. J. Sanders

  The naga whipped her tail again, but Rose’s eyes widened as a vulpo snarled and leaped at her. Caught in the horror of the moment, she was only distantly aware of the water of the lake rising and overflowing its shores, but she couldn’t miss the pearly draconic head descending as its mouth closed around the squealing vulpo. The vulpo was tossed back, his body tumbling in the air before landing in one of the hydra’s mouths with a wet crunch. Just as quickly, the other heads picked off the vulpi surrounding them from where the dragon rose from the lake.

  The naga took the opportunity to advance. Rose only got one terse warning to hold her breath before they were sliding into the cold mountain lake with such force that Rose felt as if she were tied to an arrow fired into the water. The sounds of the battle were lost above her as they descended into the darker depths of the lake. Bioluminescence lit up the naga from a bony crest on her forehead and in a long stripe that traveled down the length of her tail. It provided just enough light that Rose was able to see the tunnel carved into the lake before the naga passed through it.

  Once they entered the tunnel, their speed picked up into a dizzying plunge that twisted them through the rocks. Rose shut her eyes tightly, concentrating on releasing air bubbles in a very small, limited stream despite the burn of her lungs. It was a cruel joke, in her opinion, that a water mage couldn’t breathe water.

  Just as she worried that she wouldn’t be able to hold her breath any longer, they surged up out of the water onto the flat, stony floor of the lower cavern. Water dribbled out of the corners of her mouth as she coughed and dragged in deep, gasping breaths. Rolling to her back, she glanced over to see the female naga lying at her side, her features waxen and her eyes glazed.

  Tears pooled in Rose’s eyes as she reached out one clawed hand to the lifeless female, seeing for the first time the terrible wounds that were ripped into her body. Escaping through the water had accelerated the rate of blood loss and yet, somehow, she had managed to get Rose to safety before she lost her battle with death. With a trembling hand, she closed the naga’s eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “Mistress? You are Rose, yes?” a soft, sibilant voice asked.

  Rose turned around and found herself coming eye to eye with another female. The naga’s face was filled with sorrow, but she stretched a hand out to her.

  “My sister shall be honored greatly for her sacrifice. Come now, Mistress. You must ascend. The hour is soon approaching. This must be done now.”

  Rose shook her head helplessly, frustrated with the loss of life and her own rising sense of failure.

  “I don’t know,” she croaked as she allowed the naga to drag her to her feet. “I don’t know what spell I’m even to use. Darthar didn’t leave any clues.”

  The naga’s lips pressed together as she lifted Rose up into her arms and slipped through a tunnel that Rose had never noticed before, sliding up its length until they dropped from a crevice high on the wall of the workroom. Below her, Rose could see the altar as they slowly dropped behind it.

  At the sound of impact, Serina came rushing in with the Darthar’s grimoire clutched to her chest. Rose looked at it hopelessly. She had been reading through that book for days on end and hadn’t seen anything that looked even remotely like what she needed.

  The nereid handed it to her expectantly, and Rose bit her lip, her new fangs digging into the flesh with a small pinch of pain as she flipped through the book. The now familiar pages blurred together as she thumbed through the hopelessly.

  “I don’t know what I’m looking for,” she growled impatiently. “I’ve been through this book more times than I can count, and I don’t know.”

  The naga slid forward to peer over her shoulder. “According to what I’ve heard, it is the bond of the lupi to the mage that bonds the mage to the mountain. Nagas are long-lived, not immortal, but we have passed everything down that we have been charged with remembering. This thing was told to me clearly.”

  Rose squeezed her eyes shut, focusing once again on the tapestry. How many times had she passed it and caught herself staring at the details? Too many. She could construct the image in her mind. She saw the lupi surrounding Darthar and the gold links connecting them to him. She remembered the sorrow on Saris’s face as he spoke of how much he missed his friend and Master. The failure of all the mages before her to secure them. Her eyes snapped open, drawing in a sharp breath she flipped through the pages.

  “Of course,” she muttered. “The spell was so strange and out of place compared to the other spells. Nothing Darthar ever recorded in his grimoire dealt with love but this one. I figured the mage must have put in there as a grudging acknowledgment of love magic despite its odd wording.”

  With the nereid and naga standing to either side of her, watching, Rose opened the book to the page. She glanced over at the nymph.

  “Serina, my chalice, please.”

  Her friend nodded and slipped out of the room. The naga frowned as she edged closer.

  “What is it that you are going to do?” she asked curiously.

  “I am going to bind myself to the mountain with this spell. Love was the only thing that successfully bonded me to the lupi, whereas it failed with all other mages before me. Perhaps I was the one who Darthar foresaw, but perhaps that is because that he had known then that I would love these monsters and willingly become one of them. This love spell forges an unbreakable chain connecting lifeforces. It is unusual in love spells because it would quite literally suggest that if one of the couple died, so would the other, their lives completely linked. But in the context of this mountain, it makes sense. As long as the mountain existed and the barrier held, my life would continue. But there is one instruction missing that, if I hadn’t come across it in my own work, would have rendered it useless… How are you at water manipulation?”

  The naga glanced at her in surprise. “Passable. Not as strong as my sister, but I can hold its movement for a period of time. Why?”

  Rose smiled as Serina returned with the chalice and set it on the altar. Stepping over the chalice, she looked down at the water in the cup and held her hand over it. With a shallow slice of one claw, she squeezed her hand, watching as seven drops of blood fell into the water, her breath releasing in soft chant, binding her essence with the essence of the water. The liquid glowed gold for a moment before fading. She glanced over at the nymph, tapping a line in the book.

  “Serina, when I get to this part of the spell, I need for you to assist our naga friend…”

  “Telia,” the naga interrupted.

  “Our friend Telia,” Rose amended gently. “You are going to create a vortex with it around the altar and me.”

  Serina raised an eyebrow. “Is that safe? I don’t know…”

  “Whether it’s safe or not, this is how it must be done. The water in my blood must be increased to a substantial vortex and maintained throughout the remaining part of the spell to draw in the powers of the mountain and establish the bond. There is no other way,” she added.

  The nymph’s face was drawn, but she nodded her understanding.

  Rose swallowed and forced a confident smile to her lips. “We can do this. We must do this to end this battle once and for all.”

  Setting the book on a small stand, she began the ritual. Her hands were practically shaking as she chalked the diagram around the altar. She felt a disturbance in the air and glanced up to see sand particles falling as Equiim gripped Sirena’s hand tight in his, his face a mask of worry.

  “Two of seven lupi dead, and a third grievously injured,” he muttered in a low voice to the nymph. “They won’t last much longer. The vulpi are too numerous.”

  Her jaw tightening, Rose continued to work. She hadn’t felt the second lupo fall, perhaps due to the barrier over the castle, but her heart grieved from the loss that she logically knew was there.

  She would not fail. She would not lose a single male more.

  The diagram done, Rose stood. Traditionall
y, one would bathe and change into a fresh robe before working, but there was no time for purifications. With blood both her own and not, she stepped into the circle, stood before the altar, and began to intone the incantation. As she spoke, she felt the magic respond, the watery nature of her power rising and flowing around her. Her voice rose with it, committing her life energy to the mountain, her love and her devotion. Tying her heart and soul to the gate.

  She felt the first tug of the magic churning around her as she watched the drops of water mixed with her blood spin and lift from the chalice, becoming smaller as their spin widened until they were like a fine mist that surrounded her and the altar. Just beyond the wall of the vortex she could see the females standing at either side of her, their arms upraised, palms out as they worked together to harness the enormous waterspout.

  It pulled at her. That was the first thing she noticed as she passed the halfway point of the ritual. That pull turned into an itch and then a pinch. Eventually, that pinch turned into a sharp pain, which gradually morphed into agony as she felt the powers of the mountain draw around her and slam through her body. She felt them all, every resident creature. Their attention turned toward her as currents linked between them and her. And the gate itself yawned wide with the midnight hour, its power slamming into her full force, untempered as it might have been on any other night.

  The scream that left her throat was hollow, its vibrations of all the tones of the sphere rattling through the mountain as her magic swelled, remaking itself. Remaking her. Everything within her coagulated, compressing within her. A gold liquid sheen ran over her skin as it penetrated deeply, the power of the mountain seeping through every part of her, invading and transforming her.

  It was not the bliss of rising in purity to dwell in the company of the gods. It mired her firmly in both the world of the living and the gateway of the underworld. The darkness of the gate infused her, binding itself to every part of her, corrupting the last bits of her that were purely human. At its completion, the vortex naturally closed on itself with the final powers secured.

  As it crashed closed, the shockwave that it sent plowed through the forest of the mountain, for the first time carrying off the mist that obscured it. It blasted through the vulpi and the creatures that had invaded the mountain over the centuries, unraveling their physical forms and slamming them back into the underworld. Her magic repelled the monsters and terrors of the other world, forming a temporary film that would keep them in place this one night. The one gift for the price she paid that night.

  Rose sagged with relief, her weakened body stumbling back from the altar to the wall for support. She stood there only for a moment before she slid down in a boneless heap. She felt Telia’s arms around her and Sirena’s hand touching her face and hair, but she felt it through a fog of exhaustion.

  Equiim huffed and pushed the hands of the females away.

  “This is not what the Mistress needs,” he muttered as the goblin closed his arms around her. “Lean on me, my lady. I will take you to your mate. He will know how to restore you.”

  Rose smiled up at him, gently drawing her clawed hand down the side of his face.

  “Thank you, Equiim. You are a good friend. I’m sorry I cursed you to the gates of the Abyss when you supervised my punishment,” she mumbled.

  “As you should’ve, Mistress,” he chuckled. “Now hold tight. This might be disorienting for one such as you.”

  A gust of dark sand surrounded them. It was frightening, but she was too weak to protest as he swept her away. A void surrounded her before reality came rushing back again with another burst of sand that had her choking and gasping for air. Strong arms gathered her up out of the goblin’s embrace. A muzzle brushed her cheek, and she opened her eyes to look up at Saris. His eyes narrowed on her speculatively, and he sniffed at her, his arms tightening around her with undisguised joy.

  “You did it,” he sighed with relief. “The mountain has bonded to you. The mountain and this world are secure once more.”

  “Wonderful,” she rasped. “I feel like shit and like a carriage has run over me at full speed… but as long as everything is safe…”

  He chuckled, but there was a note of sadness to it.

  Pulling back a little, she met his eye.

  “Who didn’t make it?”

  “The twins Farik and Tarth passed to the next world, and Aigra is injured, but not as bad as he lets on,” he added with a shake of his head. “He is already being returned to the castle. And the hydra has returned to the pools, from what I understand. She is badly injured but still living.”

  “I am sorry for our lupi,” she whispered.

  He glanced at her, his expression softening.

  “There is always that risk. We all know that. Regardless, there will always be seven lupi for the mountain. Three are gone and will need to be replaced. If you are willing, the gods will quicken my seed and your womb to replenish our numbers. That is how these things are usually maintained… but if you are not willing, then I will search for males willing to be corrupted,” he said softly.

  “I think that can be arranged,” she murmured with a small smile before it soon died. “I never would have imagined that this would end in three lupi lost, and a naga…”

  “Five more naga here,” he added in a somber voice.

  “Much was sacrificed,” she muttered.

  Saris fell silent, his hand stroking through her hair as he just held her. After several minutes, he set her back and met her eyes. “I think I know something that will make you feel better.”

  She raised an eyebrow but didn’t protest when he gathered her close to him and began to climb the mountainside. It took some time for them to break above the tree line, but when they did, with the mists cleared away, she was able to see the entire valley straight out to the village. Her breath choked, and tears sprang to her eyes as she saw the long trains of souls streaming out in every direction. One was heading toward the town, the little flickering lights of the lanterns lit to wait for them.

  “This is what our sacrifices secured. Blood, pain, and tears. We saved this world for all of us,” he whispered into her hair.

  Leaning her head against his chest, she smiled the first genuine smile since she had been stolen from the mountain. “Yes, it was worth it.” She tilted her head back, looking up at her wolfish captor, lover, and mate. “And you were worth it.”

  He grinned in agreement, running his muzzle against her cheek. “I can’t think of a better monster to spend eternity with.”

  She chuckled and snuggled into his embrace as her eyes turned once again to the souls drifting over the world, for this year unplagued by the denizens of the underworld as they wandered through the forest and returned to their families and homes.

  She would never be one of them. She would never be an ancestral spirit returning to visit the growing lineage of her descendants. But she was okay with that. She had the family and home she always wanted right there—and she had the knowledge that she had always pursued. Nothing more surprising than the fact that love was the answer she sought.

  “Come, my mate. Now I think it is time that we return home so I may replenish your energies,” Saris murmured.

  Rose raised an eyebrow at him. “I heard that you could do that, but how?”

  He grinned wickedly and carried her back down into the gloom of the forests.

  Epilogue

  Saris drifted behind his mate as they entered unseen into the castle grounds. She had obscured their presence with an impenetrable fog that rolled over the landscape moments before their arrival. The guard shifted sightlessly in the murk, their weapons clattering with unease. Saris smirked at them, but left them in peace as they made their way to the queen’s garden just outside of her rooms.

  In the month since the veil closed once more, they had buried their dead, including the remains of the mages who had waited longer than they should have for their rest. In compensation, Saris commissioned the dwarves to make a m
onument to serve as a marker for their grave with all respects given. Rose thought that the marble robed mage was a bit eerie-looking, but she heartily approved and appointed a corner of the labyrinth for their resting place.

  He looked over at his mate with pleasure. She looked regal in her dark robe and cloak with Darthar’s twisted staff in her hand. As if sensing his eyes, she looked his way and smiled, showing an adorable hint of fang.

  A low growl rumbled in his chest as he glanced around, hunting for a place where he might bend his mate over, but he stopped himself with a frustrated snarl. They weren’t there to fuck. Rose had very specific business that brought her to the castle. A debt to repay, as she had called it.

  He snorted mirthlessly. He didn’t imagine that the queen would care for it to be repaid, but he enjoyed seeing Rose with her face lit up with the excitement at her impending vengeance. Besides, the unpleasant smell wafting from the bundle he carried over his shoulder didn’t lend itself to amorous pursuits, even though Rose had soaked the material in odor maskers.

  Passing through the queen’s gardens, they walked through the servant’s entrance and up the narrow staircase that led to the queen’s private chambers that overlooked her favored gardens. The room itself was not difficult to locate, and Saris pushed the heavy door open for his mate with an obliging grin. Rose blew him a kiss as she entered, and he followed close behind, keeping to the shadows at the doorway as she strode in fearlessly.