by Amy Sumida
You might as well wave your white flag now, Isis, because we are coming for you.
I inhaled sharply as my magic poured out of me; I had caught the scent. I saw Isis' trail in my mind; a bright spear of light shooting across the land toward my prey. I let the song sweep me up into its beauty and then plunged forward with its intent.
I saw Isis; a mass of hatred and arrogance. She turned to look over her shoulder as if she could sense me and then narrowed her eyes. I frowned as I reached for her; trying to lock onto her location. I saw her mutter something, and then the image went black.
I stuttered into a stop, and my consorts came forward in concern.
What was that? Kyanite whispered in my mind as his music faded away.
“I don't know,” I murmured.
“You don't know what?” Torin asked. “Where Isis is?”
“No; I think I found her,” I said with a frown. “But just after I did, she blocked me. I don't know how she did it.”
“As long as we have her location, it doesn't matter,” Banning said. “But if she sensed you, she'll know we're coming, and she might run.”
“Would she?” I asked dubiously. “Or would she be so arrogant that she'd feel assured in her victory and stay to slaughter us?”
“If she thought she could win, she'd stay,” Declan said. “Isis is definitely arrogant and just the sort of woman who would want to make sure she killed her enemies as soon as possible.”
“Either way, we need to get to her now,” Torin said. “Where is she, little bird?”
“Veracruz,” I said. “Mexico.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
I thought it odd that Isis was in Mexico until we took a look around Papantla, Veracruz. There were images of pyramids everywhere. One, in particular, was featured predominantly; the Pyramid of Niches. It was near the city and a popular tourist destination. With the number of people we had brought with us, we looked like a tour group, and several locals approached us with brochures about the pyramid and the city of El Tajin that surrounded it.
“Very unusual pyramid,” one eager gentleman said to us as he tapped a picture in his brochure. “See the niches? No other pyramid in Mexico like this. And the buildings were built with cement.”
“Cement?” I asked.
“Modern materials in an old place. Strange, eh?” He grinned. “The whole place is strange. Natives who live in the forest hid it for centuries; they believe thunder gods live there. You go, and you see; it feels funny too. Very funny on skin.” He shivered dramatically.
I exchanged an intrigued look with the others.
“Thank you.” I handed him a five dollar bill. “But we're here on business.”
“You need anything else, you call me.” He pressed a card into my hand. “I'm Miguel.”
I nodded and pocketed the card absently. I was focused on the bright yellow house across the street from us. This was where I'd seen Isis.
“Your business is there?” The man asked with raised brows. “You sure you not lost?”
“Why do you ask?” I refocused on him.
“That's a spirit house,” he said and then frowned. “No; wrong word... ghost. Home to ghosts.”
“It's haunted?” I asked in surprise.
“Si; haunted.” He nodded. “Lady who lives there is loca—crazy, big time.”
“Dark hair, tan skin, wild eyes?” Declan asked. “Has a tattoo of wings going down her arms?”
“Si!” The man's eyes widened. “You know her?”
“That's who our business is with,” I confirmed as I pulled three hundred dollar bills out of my pocket. “If you can manage to keep people away from this area for the next hour, I'd appreciate it.”
Miguel took the money and nodded as he looked us over. He obviously wanted to ask what we were going to do to the crazy lady, but the money was enough to assuage his curiosity. Don't look a gift tourist in the mouth.
“You got it.” He tucked the bills away and whistled to a couple of men down the sidewalk. “We got a job.”
We left them to it and headed toward the haunted house.
“She has wings tattooed on her?” I asked Declan.
“They show up as tattoos when she's not using them,” Declan explained. “It's just a magical disguise for her real wings.”
“Those are the wings that can bring people back to life, right?” I asked.
“They are manifestations of the magic; they don't actually create spells,” Declan said. “The power is in Isis.”
“Isis projects it out, and it becomes wings,” I murmured. “Interesting.”
“Do we knock?” Gage asked with a smirk.
The door creaked open eerily, and Gage's smirk disappeared.
“That was odd timing,” I noted.
“Especially after that whole 'haunted' comment,” Gage agreed.
“The house is not haunted,” Declan huffed as he pushed the door open. “Its mistress simply knows we're here.”
Declan strode inside, and we followed him.
“Hold on.” I grabbed Declan's arm and stopped him in the hallway. “Let me go first; I'm invincible, remember?”
“We haven't tested the Girdle, remember?” Declan shot back.
“So, we went through all that trouble of getting it when you aren't even sure that it works?” I asked.
Declan grimaced.
“That's what I thought.” I moved in front of him.
The house was quiet at first, but as I headed down the main hallway, shuffling noises emerged from the walls. I frowned at the sounds and at the way the hair on my arms lifted. Something was very wrong. I could see how humans would interpret it to mean “haunted,” but I knew it wasn't spirits within the walls. Or at least not human spirits.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” I called in a sing-song voice.
“Thank you, Ellie,” Gage grumbled. “That wasn't at all creepy.”
We passed by several doors that were open on empty rooms, and then there was one that was shut. I opened the door—preparing songs in my head—and was immediately sucked inside the room; the door slamming shut behind me. My consorts, who had been left outside, began shouting, and someone pounded on the door. I ignored them and went still; trying to hear where my enemies were since I couldn't see anything. It was pitch black in there; without even a sliver of light coming from the edges of a curtain. I was about to start singing about illumination when cold breath trailed across my cheek.
“I taste the darkness on your skin,” a male voice whispered.
I jerked in shock, and it chuckled. Or maybe it was someone else who laughed because another voice added to the first.
“She has power in her blood; it feels strange.”
“And music,” the first voice whispered. “Sing for us, pretty bird.”
“Who the fuck are you?” I growled as I swung about blindly.
Calm down and listen, Kyanite said. They're not really here. They're projecting their thoughts into your mind and making you believe that they are in the room with you.
I went still, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath.
“Think inwardly,” I whispered.
I pulled my thoughts back and focused on my mind; what was happening inside me. And I felt them there; thoughts that weren't mine. With a triumphant cry, I shoved them out of my head and opened my eyes. The room instantly brightened, and the voices vanished.
“Nicely done,” Isis said as she cocked her head at me. “I didn't expect you to evade them so quickly.”
“Them who?” I asked. “Your fellow Aaruns?”
“Yes; actually.” She laughed with surprise. “Though not the ones you think.”
“Great; another woman who likes riddles,” I huffed.
“Oh, I don't care for them,” Isis protested as she stood. “I'm not a sphinx. I assume those were the people who helped you break into my home?”
“Yeah; actually, now that I have you here; what's with leaving panties by the door?” I a
sked.
“What's with stealing them?” She countered.
Well, she had me there.
Isis had been reclining on a gold chaise lounge; because that's what the coolest goddesses do. As she stood, the colorful tattoos of feathers on her dark arms lifted off her skin and rose behind her. They were the most beautiful wings I'd ever seen, and I felt like a traitor to Gage for thinking so. His wings were lovely, but these had feathers of deep ruby, sapphire, emerald, and bright turquoise with golden tips. It was as if her wings had been crafted by a jeweler, but they were actual feathers. Her long, dark hair was pulled back in an elegant ponytail, and she wore a simple cotton dress, but Isis didn't need any further adornment; not with those damn wings.
“I'm a direct kind of woman,” Isis went on. “I prefer to get to the point. And the point is that I don't like people poking into my affairs. I especially don't like it when they show up with fairies on my doorstep. Though, I do appreciate the delivery of fresh Blooders; my supply was getting low.”
“I don't appreciate genocide.” I shrugged. “So, we seem to be at an impasse.”
“Indeed.” She scowled at the door. “Oh, for fuck's sake; come in already.”
Isis waved her hand at the vibrating door that was still being pummeled by my consorts. They came tumbling into the room; catching themselves to settle into fighting stances.
“All this for little ol' me?” Isis smirked. “How flattering.”
“Why are you targeting Blooders, Isis?” Declan asked as he moved up beside me.
“They're parasites.” She said casually. “And it's about time someone took care of the pest problem around here.”
“Fuck you, bitch,” Banning growled. “You're kind are the parasites; feeding off human sacrifice for all these years. At least we give them pleasure. What do you offer humans in exchange for their blood and servitude?”
“My glorious presence.” She waved a hand down her body.
“When did you become such a megalomaniac?” Declan asked as he shook his head.
“Do I know you?” She cocked her head at him, and Declan scowled.
“We were intimate, Isis,” Declan huffed.
She narrowed her eyes at him speculatively, and then they widened. “Oh! Yes; I remember you. You're the Shining One who did that thing where you put your finger—”
“Yes; okay, you remember him,” I cut her off. “Let's move on.”
“If you insist,” Isis spread her arms out, and Banning went flying into them.
Several things happened at once. Torin and Declan both sent magical attacks at Isis—which she deflected with one hand. Banning's Gura ran forward and was instantly slammed back in all directions; they thudded into the walls hard enough to knock plaster loose. Gage roared and leapt forward, but Isis blew him a kiss that sent him tumbling ass over teakettle. Gio—oddly enough—was the only one who made it over to Isis, but it quickly became apparent that she had allowed it to happen. As soon as Gio was within reach, she snatched him. Isis held both blooders enthralled; their eyes focused on her intently as they stood limply in her embrace.
“Which shall I make into a monster first?” Isis mused casually. “Oh, wait; they're already monsters. Blights on this world. Pathetic parasites sucking the life from humans. This won't be such a change for them.”
Torin called on his grounding magic to leech away Isis' power, and I felt the pull of his magic tickle across my skin. But there was so much power inside her; Isis just looked up at Torin and smiled wickedly—completely unfazed. Finally, Declan manifested a massive sword over the goddess and dropped it—no doubt intending to sever her in half—but it disintegrated before it reached her.
“Impossible,” Declan whispered in horror.
Gage stood beside Declan; glaring at Isis as he searched for a weakness. Griffins were tacticians, and Gage wouldn't attempt another strike until he knew how best to deal with his enemy. He waited and watched; biding his time.
“You Shining Ones think you're the elite, but that's only as individuals. I've found a way to magnify my power that goes beyond myself.”
“Blood magic,” Torin growled. “Pathetic. You'll be paying a hefty price for it.”
Isis laughed scornfully. “See? You automatically think of another individual solution, when the answer is obvious; strength in numbers. I've found allies willing to share their power with me; pool it into one body at a time. Today—at this moment—it's me. I have the power of an entire pantheon pouring into me,” Isis declared confidently. “A pantheon that has done nothing but store up its magic for centuries. Now, I am the elite; I am the unstoppable one!”
Isis' wings flared upward dramatically, and a wave of power blasted out from her; lifting Torin and Declan off their feet. They hung suspended in the air as invisible hands began to strangle them.
Throughout this, Kyanite had been playing the intro to the song I'd chosen, but Isis wasn't worried about my music. She was certain she could stop me, and so she completely ignored me as I started to sing. I was background music to her; a soundtrack for her fight. And that was just fine with me. Go ahead and underestimate me; it'll make things so much easier. The song wasn't one that I had planned on, but one that Isis had just inspired. Usually, the music I chose on the fly worked the best. So, I went with it.
“Parasite” by Armors was about a vicious love that drains a man dry, and his struggle to escape it. But I was using the lyrics to force Isis to experience what a real parasite could do to her. If she wanted a leech, I'd give her a leech. I was going to suck all of the magic out of her body.
Isis' eyes widened as she finally focused on me. First, the Shining One kings fell gasping to the floor, and then Banning and Gio were released from her influence. Gage helped Torin and Declan back away as Gio and Banning hurried to join them. The men glanced at me and nodded; they were ready if I needed them. I jerked my head toward the far wall; what I needed was for them to get out of the blast zone. I'd never sung a spell with this type of intent, and I wasn't sure how it would play out.
“You think that you can best me, Spellsinger?” Isis screeched. “No matter how strong you get, there will always be someone stronger.” She flung out a hand toward me as she snarled, “Usually, it's a goddess.”
The Golden Girdle came to life, and I felt its magic surround me. I didn't see proof of its protection until her spell hit; then I briefly turned gold—like a living statue. Isis' magic was neutralized in a flash of buzzing light; like a bug hitting a zapper. It just fizzled and went out.
“No,” Isis whispered in disbelief.
“We happen to know all about sharing power,” Torin said scathingly as he sent me energy to bolster my song.
My other consorts did the same; lending me their strength to keep up mine as I battled Isis. Banning's blooders were finally recovering; they began to get to their feet and gather around Banning and Gio. My consorts waved them back, and they spread along the wall; giving me space while readying themselves in case they could help.
I continued to sing; the slow crawl of the rhythm stuttering forward into a dark whine. I let my spell flow freely and felt it snaring Isis' magic within its web. For a moment, a great tide of power came rushing at me, and I panicked. This was why Torin couldn't ground Isis; the magic wasn't hers alone. Isis had been telling the truth; an entire pantheon was sharing their power with her.
But then the flow of magic was cut off. Whoever it was that had been supplying Isis, they decided to protect themselves and abandon her. Fear filled Isis' face as the magic that had been shared with her disappeared, and then her own magic drained away and poured into me. Now that it was only Isis' magic, I knew I could handle it, but the withdrawal of the other energy had given me a cold epiphany. If I took Isis' magic, I would end up with it inside me; including the power of necromancy. I flinched, and my voice faltered as I considered whether that was something I really wanted to own.
No, girl; you don't! I heard my own voice say in my head.
Just let it go; let it move through you, Kyanite was more helpful than the RS.
I listened to him and let Isis' magic continue to drain away; passing through my feet and into the earth—similar to what Torin did with his grounding magic. I had a hard enough time with the Rooster Spell; I didn't want to add another alien power to the mix. The necromancy, ironically, had to die. But magic wants to live—especially a magic that is focused on life—and just as I had struggled with the Rooster, I had to fight Isis' power. It clung to me; tearing at my metaphysical body with claws that felt very real. I groaned from the pain and mentally tugged the claws free.
The battle inside me slackened my hold on Isis, and she used the opportunity to try and call back her magic. The tug-o-war in my chest migrated outside of me, and I finally gave up and focused back on the music. This was the time to think outwardly, and that was what I'd do. As I released my grip, Isis stumbled, but it had the opposite effect of what she wanted. The magic boomeranged off Isis as she fumbled to hold onto it and shot back into me. I welcomed it this time; accepting all of it. How was I certain that I had it all? Isis' wings exploded into thousands of jewel-colored lights.
Isis gave one final gasp and fell forward. As soon as she was dead, I pushed down and altered the intent I had put into my spell. Now, instead of draining Isis, I was draining myself of her magic. The energy had no choice but to flow along the path that my song created. It dispersed into the ground and faded away.
There would be no more Nachzehrer created by Isis.
I sighed heavily and stumbled. All four of my men leapt forward to catch me, and I let myself be carried by them. It was good to feel weightless after the battle that had raged inside my body. I laid back in their arms and let their love ease me. It was done, and I could finally relax.
I smiled up at them.
And that's when Nachzehrer started shambling into the room.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The Blooders shouted and rushed in to defend us as the Nachzehrer came into the room through a door that was behind Isis—or her body, rather. I tried to get up to help, but Gage scooped me up and refused to let go.
