The Warlord

by Gena Showalter

  Roux stood at the end of the corridor—nope, he sprawled today, his shoulder propped against a wall. Drag marks suggested he’d crawled there. Blood trickled from his nose.

  Taliyah sprinted over, her wings flapping. She crouched beside the blond giant and lifted his head into the torchlight. His pupils were huge.

  “Roux? Tell me what happened so I can help make it better.”

  He blinked rapidly, doing his best to focus on her. Suddenly his pupils consumed his irises. “Aunt Tal? Aunt Tal!” Relief lit his features. “Help me! Please. I don’t know how much longer I can keep control. Mom’s trapped in him, and I’m trapped in her. We’re real hungry. Aunt Tal? He’s fighting me, and I don’t...” He shook his head and blinked again.

  Taliyah fell, hitting the bars of the nearest cage. The harphantom inside it grabbed her hair, but she misted, solidifying a few feet from Roux. Roux, who carried her sister and niece. Shock flash-froze her veins, answers clicking. Isla had possessed Blythe, and Blythe had possessed Roux. Like Russian nesting dolls. If his block was as powerful as Roc’s, Blythe had been unable to break free. The longer they’d stayed, the deeper they’d gone, and the less Roux had sensed them. Because they’d become more a part of him.

  How had Blythe entered him in the first place? He must have dropped his shield. But why would he do so? And how had seven-year-old Isla penetrated her mother’s shields and the Astra’s? No way he’d dropped it a second time.

  Roux glowered up at her before coming up with a roar, getting in her face. “Why did I black out? What did you do to me?”

  Rather than return-shout at the warlord, as part of her demanded, she held up her hands, palms out. “Let’s de-escalate a notch, soldier. I did nothing, but I now know what’s wrong with you. I even know how to fix you...kind of.” She had theories. She’d never had to do this before.

  That got his attention. He rocked on his heels, easing off. “My...apologies.” He dipped his head in a show of respect. “You have answers, General?”

  Okay. How to break this to him? “The woman you saw during the battle did, in fact, possess you. I can confirm that.” He tensed as she continued. “Here’s the thing. Her daughter possessed her first. Meaning, yes, you’re carrying both mom and child. Knowing Blythe, she hoped you’d whisk them to safety, where they could exit without your knowledge.”

  “The little girl. Yes. I saw her. Then she disappeared, and she appeared. The woman. But I stopped. I was swinging, but I stopped. I would never hurt a child. By then, they were already gone. Then the darkness came.” Creases appeared in his brow. “If they remain inside me, why do I feel as if they’re gone?”

  “They’re buried deeper. At least, that’s what my niece told me when she took over your body. No big deal. Nope!” When he opened his mouth to complain, she extended a finger. “Let your shields down, and I’ll draw them out.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Lower my shields for a phantom?”

  “Yes. Do it willingly, or I’ll make you do it by force.” She infused her tone with steel. “One way or another, I’m getting my girls out. No, you know what? You don’t get to think about this, and you don’t get to fight it. Kneel.”

  He laughed without humor. “I will not.”

  “I wear your Commander’s stardust. I’m his wife and gravita. I’m Acting Harpy General, and I’m the granddaughter of Chaos. You will show me the honor owed to me. Kneel.”

  He peered at her for a long while, fuming—but he also knelt.

  “Good boy. This might sting a bit.” Charged with confidence and Roc’s electric energy, Taliyah pushed her spirit from her body. Cold washed over her, and she whisked to Roux, where she hovered directly in front of him.

  His soul glowed as brightly as Roc’s, but cracks fractured the shell. Interesting. She stepped into his body without an obstacle in the way. He’d truly dropped his shields, as ordered.

  I was born to rule. She bumped up against his soul and hissed. Ouch! Not cracks after all, but lightning zaps. Gritting her teeth, she sank deeper into his conscious.

  “Blythe,” she called. “Isla. I’m here. Follow my light and reach for me. I’ll do everything else. Isla, help your mother. Blythe, you’ll both be safe, I swear it. I’m not sure what you’ve witnessed, but you have my word the Astra won’t hurt any of us.”

  Finally! A cold brush against her fingertips. Taliyah clasped onto her sister and gently separated her from the Astra.

  34

  Three of Erebus’s kinsmen lived under Roc’s roof and protection. Harpy-phantoms filled his dungeon, the number growing daily. The non-phantoms worked with his army. He had his wife in his bed every night. He knew utter joy and the most gut-wrenching panic in equal measure. Joyous one minute, despairing the next.

  Perhaps he was a drama queen.

  Taliyah studied all the time, obsessed with sacrifices, the motives behind them, and the meanings. She wasn’t sleeping. Even now, she tossed and turned in his arms, his coos of comfort doing little to soothe her. He’d hoped the rescue of her sister and niece would calm her nightly terrors. Alas.

  Mother and daughter had moved into Taliyah’s old room, where they’d stayed for the past two days, sleeping and recovering. The mother’s condition continued to decline. She’d attempted to eat fruit from the Tree of Skulls thrice, but even that she vomited. She needed nourishment from her consort, but he’d died during the invasion, killed by Roux.

  Roc didn’t know how to help the woman. He didn’t know how to help Taliyah.

  Must save her. His objective had not changed. Living with her was a drug he couldn’t quit. Roc loved seeing his wife’s things strewn everywhere. Since he’d returned the key to the Realm of the Forgotten, she’d brought her treasures over. A vast array of weapons. Clothes she hung next to his in the closet. Something called a lava lamp without actual lava. An autographed photograph of Taliyah and a human male named Jason Momoa, taken at something she called a con.

  He’d wanted to toss the thing, but she looked too cute as she pretended to be a human who pretended to be an immortal version of herself. The signature? Taliyah’s. She’d said, “I’ll mail it to him as soon as the restraining order is lifted.”

  The tasteful nudes she’d once suggested now hung on the walls of their bedroom, portraits that featured Taliyah herself. To stimulate his creativity, as she’d put it. When he glanced at them, he smiled. And hardened.

  She’d placed a bottle of Sex Panther cologne on their mantel, as if it were a treasure. Upon his first and only sniff, he’d wondered if two panthers had actually peed in it.

  He’d asked her, “Why do you have this?”

  “First of all, we have this, and it’s for our street cred, obviously. Speaking of, how do you feel about getting my name tattooed on your only available blank canvas? I’m talking about your penis, in case it’s not clear. And my full name. I promise I’ll only ask you to whip it out and show the relatives on holidays, my birthday and every get-together from now until the end of eternity, and only then.”

  Her words acted as a kick in the gut. She still planned their future.

  A future they might not have.

  Agony ripped through him. She was the guiding star he’d needed for so long. Icy with others, even as she melts for me.

  How could he destroy her? How could he curse his men? The questions plagued him. They plagued his wife, as well; he knew they did.

  His spies had learned nothing of value. Roc had called in every favor from every god who owed him, the number vast, but none had provided an answer to his dilemma.

  Taliyah jolted upright with a loud gasp, startling him. “I know where they are.” Tremors shook her as she scrambled from the bed and tugged his discarded shirt over her head, covering her nakedness.

  “Who?” he asked, throwing his legs over the side of the mattress and standing. He reached for his pants.


  “The rest of the harphantoms.” With that, she vanished.

  “Taliyah!” He loved having an independent wife; he didn’t hate it sometimes. Trying not to worry, he finished dressing and flashed from room to room, on the hunt. All the while, he shouted commands to his men.

  —Sound the alarm and prepare the armies. Something has happened. What, I don’t know. Prepare for anything. Alert me the moment you spot Taliyah.—

  Despite their feelings toward her, they issued speedy agreements. He knew many fretted about his obvious love for the woman and debated whether or not he would perform the sacrifice...and what they would do if he didn’t. If they would take matters into their own hands, as Roc once had.

  Wonderful. Another internal battle. His panic and joy, always at war. He was raw inside, his aggression always high.

  Taliyah was nowhere in the palace. He braced to flash into the Realm of the Forgotten when Halo’s voice stopped him.

  —Found her. She’s in the marketplace, near the Tree of Skulls.—

  Roc switched gears, landing where he’d last stood with her. His eyes darted. She knelt on the ground, her body heaving as she pounded her fist into dirt. Great, agonizing sounds rose from her.

  “Taya!” He flashed to her side and slung an arm around her. “What is this? What happened? Tell me!”

  Her sobs continued. With her next punch at the dirt, he captured her fist.

  “Taya!”

  Crying out, she threw herself at him, clinging and shaking and breaking the heart she had just welded together. “He buried them, the harpies of old. The ones he and Asclepius killed. The brothers turned my people into phantoms and forced them to go underground.” The more she spoke, the less she heaved and the more fury she broadcast, until malice sizzled in her every word. Heat boiled from her. “They forced the slain harpies to disembody and sink. Ordered them to slowly re-form and wait, silent, becoming one with the earth, tree roots growing through them.”

  Had Roc re-created the horror of this in the duplicate realm?

  “He hid them from you,” she continued, “so he could raise them up whenever he wished to toy with you.”

  “Taya. I’m sorry.”

  “He planned this!” she screeched. “They’ve been screaming silently for centuries. They’ve been screaming, but I refused to listen. Well, I’m listening now, and I. Will. Repay.” A bright, blinding beam of light exploded from her.

  No, not just a light: incredible power. Her own, mixed with his. The heat of it melted her ring and singed Roc. He didn’t ice over as the mighty force threw him down the street. The light shot through him, too, across, above and below the land; he felt it penetrate the duplicate realm. Not once did his hold on Taliyah loosen.

  Taliyah collapsed against him with a gasp. He cradled her to his chest and flashed to their bedroom.

  —Commander, all phantom attacks have ceased. They’ve collapsed.—

  —The light. What was that?—

  Roc had known Taliyah was the daughter of a god and the granddaughter of a higher god, but he hadn’t expected...this.

  —The light came from Taliyah. I’ll explain later.—As soon as he healed her and figured out what had happened. —Put the phantoms in cuffs and cells. Do them no harm.—Standard operating procedure, nowadays.

  He gently laid his wife upon their bed. Dark lines branched through every inch of visible skin. Black shaded her eye sockets.

  Remembering the care and feeding of harpies, he sliced into his wrist and held the wound above her mouth, while forcing her lips to part with his free hand. A crimson stream trickled down her throat. But, as the minutes passed, she didn’t rouse.

  Desperate, he leaned down while lifting her head, pressing her lips into his throat. “Feed, Taya. Please.”

  Again, nothing happened.

  Fighting a stronger deluge of panic, he raced to the other bedroom, shouldering past the door. The daughter sat at the edge of the bed with her legs folded. The mother rose, as well, vibrant color restored to her once-pallid skin. When she spotted him, hatred filled her eyes—eyes so like Taliyah’s.

  She sprang to her feet, shielding her daughter and gearing up for attack. Whatever Taliyah’s light had done to the phantoms outside had also helped this phantom greatly, her strength restored with the same intensity as her color.

  “There’s no time for that. Taliyah won’t wake. Come. Wake her.” Unwilling to wait, he flashed to Taliyah. No change in her condition.

  The sister and the niece rushed after him. Both dived on the bed.

  “What did you do to her?” the sister demanded.

  He explained as he paced, ending with “Wake her,” he repeated. “Whatever is needed, wake her. I think she burned through her life energy.” His woman, starve to death? Denial roared from him. “She needs my soul, which I’ll gladly give her. Just wake her! Make her feed.”

  “You can’t make a phantom feed, you fool.” Blythe frantically tapped Taliyah’s cheeks. “Come on, T-bone. Wake up. Do you hear me? Wake! That’s an order from your more powerful sister.”

  A horrifying thought occurred to him as Taliyah’s words echoed in his mind. He planned this. She was right. Erebus had absolutely planned this. But he’d done far worse than Taliyah realized. Erebus hadn’t just stored the phantoms below the earth to use as toys. He’d planned Taliyah’s burnout to save them.

  Erebus had known she would find the harpies underground, guided by the Blade of Destiny. He’d wanted Roc to taste the loss he was soon to experience.

  What should he do?

  What should he do?

  “She has a friend,” Blythe blurted out. “An oracle.”

  Roc made and tossed the sister a key to Harpina within the same second. “Fetch her.”

  “Yes.” The sister caught the three-inch stone and reached for her daughter, who currently sat on Taliyah’s chest, cupping her face.

  “Aunt Tal is in there. She’s fighting, and she promises she won’t stop. She won’t accept a picture of defeat. She says you gotta hurry, though. The little light is fading fast.”

  Another denial boiled in the core of his being. “Get the oracle. Now.”

  “Hi, guys.” The bright, cheery voice came from behind him, and he spun. A beautiful black harpy stood in the doorway. “I prefer the name Great and Mighty Oracle Neeka.” She skipped into the room and handed Roc a piece of paper. “This is a list of her sisters and where they’re located right now. Also her mother. Sorry. If you want T-rex fixed, you’d better gather the girls quick. Chop-chop.”

  Roc glanced down at the list before her words pierced his thoughts. Comprehension dawned, and he flashed to the first location with no goodbyes. First up, a woman named Gwen.

  Neeka had given him more than names and addresses. Notes with arrows pointing here and there littered the margins, offering warnings. Everything from A bark worse than her bite to Already plotting your murder.

  He materialized in a spacious bedroom, standing behind a strawberry blonde throwing a crystal vase at a big, dark-haired man, while shouting, “Yes, I can start a war with gods just because I want to.”

  For a split second, he locked gazes with her male, who rocketed from amused frustration to unending rage. No time to explain his actions. He simply grabbed the woman and flashed. Not the best introduction to his new brother, but what else could he do?

  Roc dropped Gwen in Harpina and flashed off just as she tore into his throat. Up next, the sister named Kaia. A redhead. This one was busy stuffing a grenade into a purse, telling a dark-blond brute, “When I have this Alaroc person’s balls dangling from my fingers, I’ll return yours to you.”

  Again, Roc snatched and flashed. This male caught sight of him, too, and reacted just as fiercely.

  Problem: when he dropped Kaia off in Harpina, she deposited the grenade in his hand—with the pin pulled. He ba
rely managed to toss the weapon into an empty realm before detonation.

  Two more names left. Up next? Bianka, another sister. Roc took the lovely brunette from a warrior with gold wings. This male lunged at him, grazing his cheek with a sword of fire as he vanished.

  One female to go. The mother, Tabitha. She fought him through the flash itself. By the time he landed in the master bedroom, she had three daggers embedded in his shoulder. He plucked the weapons free and pointed to Taliyah. “Fix her.”

  All of the sisters congregated on the bed, cheering encouragements at Taliyah. Neeka commanded, “I said louder!”

  “Come on, T-bag!”

  “You can do this!”

  “Don’t be a slacker. Fight harder!”

  “Lie next to her, Astra,” the oracle instructed. “Warm her. Stardust her. Give her the works. Remind her what she’s fighting for.”

  Hisses sounded and claws were bared as he shouldered past her family and gathered Taliyah into his arms. He didn’t care, and he didn’t withdraw. He willed his body to produce more heat for her.

  “I didn’t say to stop cheering, did I?” Neeka boomed, a true dictator. “You know General Taliyah performs best when she’s being praised for her efforts. Or am I the only one who has foreseen this?”

  New cheers erupted, filling the air as Roc’s heat warmed Taliyah’s chilled skin. As stardust singed his palms, he stroked her face, her throat and collarbone. Her arms. Under her T-shirt. If he could reach it, he touched it.

  “Come on, Taya.” He kissed the shell of her ear. “Every harpy in this room wants to kill me. Only you should have this privilege, yes? You did promise me at our first meeting.”

  A light moan parted her lips, and the crowd instantly quieted down. She tried to open her eyes, her lids parting slightly, but the effort proved unsuccessful.

  Relief and panic colliding, he drew her face toward his neck. He didn’t need her lucid right now; he just needed her feeding. “Drink me, Taya. Drink all you need.” Words he hoped to say to her every day for centuries to come.