She took a deep breath. Perhaps you are testing me, Taal. Your light has helped me before, and your power has joined with my very body. I am your priestess, your warrior, your servant. Be with me today. She raised her eyes. The sky was blue and bright, the sun beating down, but Issari prayed to other gods too. If you look down upon me, stars of Requiem, and if you see me as your daughter, help me too. Help me defeat the demon host that would kill your children.
They kept walking, heading closer to the palace. It rose ahead upon a hill—her old home. Blue bricks formed its base, inlaid with golden reliefs of winged bulls, roaring lions, and chariots full of soldiers. Indigo columns lined the palace's higher floors, capped with gold. Balconies thrust out like mushrooms upon a tree. Once lush gardens had draped off these balconies and the palace roof; they had burned in the war. Once a waterfall had cascaded down the palace wall into a pool in the gardens; it had run dry. Once this had been a home to Issari; today a creature of flame and stone lurked within.
She turned to look at the soldiers who followed her. Each man wore a bronze breastplate and helmet, and they held round shields and khopeshes. Spears hung across their backs. She had a thousand men; she had to fight only one demon. Issari suspected this might be like a thousand butterflies attacking a bear. She caressed her amulet. Just so long as there's one bee in the bunch.
She raised her head, squared her shoulders, and marched on, climbing the hill toward the palace gates.
No guards stood here; none were necessary, for nobody sane would enter this place with the creature that lurked within. The bronze doors seemed to glower at her, their knobs shaped as great phalli, symbols of fertility. She grabbed the handles, took a deep breath, and shoved the doors open.
A dark hall awaited her, lined with columns. Once a mosaic had covered the floor; it lay smashed and stained with demon drool, blood, and seed. Once statues of erstwhile kings had stood between the pillars; their heads had been removed, replaced with demon sculptures of stinking flesh stitched together into mocking faces. Once the throne had risen here in a beam of light, and great kings had sat upon it. Now, coiling around this chair, slumbered the Queen of the Abyss.
When first risen into the world, Angel had been no larger than Issari, a woman of stone and fire and bat wings. After feeding on human flesh, she had grown to an obscene size. The Demon Queen was now as large as a dragon, too large to stand upright within this hall. She lay on the ground, wrapped around the throne like a girl holding a doll. Cracks appeared on her stony body, seeping smoke and lava. Her chest rose and fell, and her eyes were narrowed to orange slits. Her wings stretched out like sails, and her claws rose taller than swords. With every deep breath, she exhaled smoke and sulfuric fumes. A small scar still marred the demon's cheek—the mark Issari's amulet had given her.
I hurt her, Issari thought, hiding the amulet within her fist. I can hurt her again.
She stepped deeper into the hall. Tanin walked at her side, his jaw clenched, his brow damp, his dagger raised. Behind, the first of Issari's soldiers entered too, their helmets hiding their faces. Still the Demon Queen slept—the deep slumber of one so powerful she knows none can hurt her.
Issari took several more steps until she stood in the center of the hall. To her right rose a statue of her father, the only one still with its original head. Issari took a deep breath and spoke so loudly her voice echoed.
"Arise, Queen of Devilry, and heed me! I am Issari Seran. I am henceforth Queen of Eteer. Release my throne and obey me!"
For a long moment, Angel still lay with closed eyes, though her breath grew more rapid, and her claws trailed along the floor. One red eye opened, blazing with the light of a sun. The demon snorted.
"You are Queen of the Whores. You're not worthy of a latrine for a throne. Return to your banishment or wait here until your father returns to slay you."
Issari smiled thinly. "Last time we met, Angel of the Abyss, you screamed, leaped upon me, tried to crush and deform me. Now you tell me to leave? I see the mark on your face. Do you fear me, Angel?"
The demon queen hissed, her tongue flicking. Slowly she rose to a crouch, body creaking like moving stones, her wings spreading wide. She moved like smoke unfurling from burning forests. Both eyes opened now, smelters of molten rock, and lava dripped between dagger-like fangs. She slammed her claws down, clutching the throne.
"Take one more step, reptile, and you will not die. Not for thousands of years." Angel licked her lips, her tongue as thick as a human arm, dripping sizzling saliva. "But you will beg me for death. As I sew more heads onto your body, you will beg. As I drink your blood, only to pump you full of more hot liquid, you will weep and beg harder. As all the creatures of the Abyss consume you—and thousands still lurk below—you will scream for death. But I will not grant it. Not until you are the basest of my demons, the most monstrous among them. Only one part of you I will leave unbroken." Angel grinned. "Your mind. Your sanity, your consciousness, your memory, your sense of self—all those will remain. Forever will you feel the pain, the horror, the ripping agony over what you've become. That will be your lot." She rose higher, and fire blazed within the cracks along her body. "So step closer, Queen of Filth, and we will begin."
Issari took a deep breath, and her eyes stung. For Eteer. For Requiem. For Tanin.
She raised her fist and uncurled her fingers, revealing her amulet. "By the light of Taal, I tame you!"
Her palm thrummed and light blazed out in a beam.
Angel screamed.
The light crashed against the demon's chest, cracking stone. Lava spilled and smoke blasted out. The demon's wings beat madly, and she tried to lunge forward, but the light slammed her back against the wall. Stones cracked. A chunk of the ceiling fell. Issari took a step closer, hand held before her, drenching the towering demon with her god's light.
"Kneel before me, Angel!" Issari shouted. "Kneel and accept me as your queen, or die in my light."
Angel hissed, cursed, retched out embers. She spat a glob of dark drool, trying to block the light. Issari, expecting the attack, dodged the projectile. She took another step forward. Her talisman's light spun, howling like a storm. The palace trembled. Angel thrashed against the wall, tail whipping about, wings churning smoke.
"Kneel, Queen of Demons! Kneel and serve me. I am Queen of Eteer and you will accept my reign."
The Demon Queen began to laugh.
It was a horrible laugh, a sound of anguish, of pure hatred forged in the depths. Even in the light drenching her, her chest rose and fell, and her eyes burned, two mocking forge fires. The queen rose taller, her head brushing the ceiling, and opened her arms wide, her claws sprouting flame.
"It will take more than the light of a sunlit god to burn me." Angel flexed her claws. "Taal is my father, but he too will beg me for death. I will crush him like I will crush you. The silver god will be my slave. You two will rut in the mud before me."
Keeping her light upon the queen, Issari looked over her shoulder at her army. The soldiers stood in the hall, swords and shields raised. Issari spoke only two soft words.
"Kill her."
With howls, Tanin at their lead, the soldiers rushed forth.
Angel's laughter echoed in the hall.
The soldiers roared for their god and kingdom. Khopeshes swung. Spears flew.
Blades shattered against the demon's stone skin. Spears splintered. Angel swiped her claws, tossing men aside like plates knocked off a table. Soldiers clattered down. Arrows fired, snapping against the demon. She laughed, swung her claws again, and tossed men against the walls. They thudded and crashed down, and angel stomped her feet, crushing their armor and bones. Tanin slammed his dagger into the queen's leg, thrusting the blade into a crack in the stone. The queen shrieked, a sound like shattering glass. A column cracked. Angel kicked, and Tanin flew through the air and thudded against the floor.
"Tanin!"
Issari's eyes stung. She wanted to run to him, but she couldn't. She forced herself
to step closer to the Demon Queen, shining her light upon her. Angel still had her back to the wall, battling the soldiers; the men seemed as small as wolves trying to take down a mammoth. But Issari was hurting her; she could see scars upon the demon's chest where the light shone. She raised her palm higher, bringing the light to blaze against Angel's eyes.
The Demon Queen screeched. This time there was no mirth in her voice, no cruelty—only pain.
"Men, chain her up!" Issari said.
Soldiers rushed forth, tossing grapples connected to thick chains. The bonds swung across Angel and men tugged back, tightening the chains. One grapple drove into a crack in Angel's belly, and she screamed again.
"The sweet spawn!" Tears of blood poured from her blinded eyes. "The child of a king! The babe in my womb!"
Issari froze, fear gripping her. The child of a king? Did . . . No. No, it was impossible.
"Tug her down!" Issari shouted.
Angel flailed, struggling to toss off the chains. The grapple dug deeper into her belly. "You are slaying your brother, princess!" cried the demon. "Your father's son festers within my womb. You are killing him."
Issari could barely breathe. Tears flooded her eyes and bile filled her throat. "You lie!"
The demon shrieked, wings beating, legs kicking back soldiers. "Cut me open and see him if you like. Your own flesh and blood."
My father has lain with her. His child is within. Issari trembled. Oh, Taal . . . don't let this be true.
She trembled so violently she lowered her beam of light.
The instant Angel was free from the ray, she screamed hoarsely, and her fire blasted out in rings. Men fell, burning. The Demon Queen kicked, overturning the throne. The heavy seat of stone slammed into Issari, knocking her down. She lay pinned beneath it.
Her eyes rolled back. Darkness spread across her. She struggled for consciousness. She blinked feebly, and through smoke and flame, she saw Angel battling soldiers, tossing them aside, cracking their bodies, tearing off their limbs and guzzling them down. Issari tried to raise her hand, to shine the light, but she was too weak, and the glow of her amulet dimmed. In the darkness, Angel's fire grew, licking the ceiling, blazing over men.
"You have failed, Issari!" Angel's voice rose from the battle. "Eteer is mine. Requiem will fall. Your long night begins. Your—"
Angel screamed.
She stumbled back.
Tanin stood before her, no taller than her waist, driving his dagger into a crack along her belly—the same place where the grapple had cut.
"If light will not tame you, metal will." Tanin twisted the blade and tugged it back; it came free covered in ooze. The demon crashed down, wailing, clutching her belly. At once soldiers leaped around her, tossing chains.
My brother. The thought rose through the fog enveloping Issari's mind. My brother is in her belly. He's hurt.
As Angel writhed on the floor, chains wrapping around her, Tanin ran toward the fallen throne. He gripped the seat, strained, and pulled it back upright. He knelt above Issari, concern softening his eyes. A bloody gash dripped upon his forehead, and he touched her cheek. His voice seemed to come from far away.
"Issari! Issari, oh stars. Can you hear me?"
She nodded and, with his help, rose to her feet. She stared at the corner where Angel was screaming. Chains engulfed her, the grapples digging into her innards. Her tongue flailed, and soldiers slammed shields against her head, knocking it against the floor. But Issari knew that mere mortals could not keep Angel down for long; the Queen of the Abyss had reigned in the underworld for millennia, and already her wounds were healing, the cracks on her stony body closing up. Already fresh fire blazed in the demon's eyes.
Issari looked back toward the throne.
The throne of Eteer. The throne that will give me power over her.
She walked toward it, each step feeling like a journey of many marks. With a deep breath, her fingers trembling, she sat upon the throne.
Angel screamed.
The demon convulsed, her tail cracking the wall. Bricks fell. The floor cracked open. Fire leaked and lava flowed along the floor. The demon's eyes blazed as Angel struggled to rise.
"You will scream, harlot! You will be eating your own hands with hunger! You will tear apart your own body to end your pain but live on! You—"
"I am your queen!" Issari stared down from the throne, palm raised. "I sit upon the throne. The army of Eteer obeys my command. You are bound to this throne, Angel, and you will serve your rightful ruler."
Tanin raised his dagger and shouted, "Queen Issari!"
Across the hall, the soldiers picked up his chant. "Queen Issari! Queen Issari! Blessed be Issari, Queen of Eteer!"
Issari rose to her feet, left the throne, and walked toward the palace doors. She stepped through them and gazed down upon the city of Eteer, heart of the Eteerian civilization: thousands of houses, the canal with its ships, the city walls, the sea beyond. Her soldiers stood at her sides.
One soldier, a young captain, blew a silver horn. People emerged from their homes below, climbed onto roofs, and stared at the palace. Issari gazed down upon her people.
"Queen Issari Seran reigns!" shouted a soldier. "Behold Blessed Queen Issari!"
And she knew: The kingdom was hers. The people accepted her; so would Angel.
When she returned to the throne room, she found the chained demon shaking, lying on the floor, bloody tears leaking from her eyes. Her wounds dripped, and her wings lay limp.
"Do you accept my dominion?" Issari asked. "Answer, Creature of the Abyss! Do you accept me as your ruler, the rightful Queen of Eteer?"
Angel fixed her with a narrow, pained stare. She hissed, smoke seeping between her teeth. "By the ancient laws binding me to servitude, I accept, Queen Issari. Your father no longer rules. The throne is yours . . . as is my allegiance."
Issari took a shuddering breath. Tanin approached her and she clasped his hand, relief spreading across her.
"Then I command you to call your demon soldiers home," said Issari. "Withdraw them from the northern lands. Return with them into the Abyss, and never more emerge."
But Angel seemed not to hear. She writhed on the floor, her teeth clenched, and she let out a howl. Her claws dug into the floor. Her belly bulged and contracted. Her legs spread open.
"What is she doing?" Tanin whispered, face pale.
Issari took a step back. Terror flooded her. She could not speak.
"I serve you, Queen Issari," said the demon, voice dripping with pain. Blood beaded upon her brow. "But our children, Issari . . . our children are only half-demons. No laws of servitude bind them." She tossed back her head and screamed. "Welcome, children of darkness! Welcome, sons and daughters of mortals! My rein ends; the age of the nephilim begins."
A cackle rose.
A creature emerged.
Issari screamed.
RAEM
The scout flew upon the wind, heading toward the demon host.
"Ah, our dear friend returns," Raem said. "The dragons have been found."
He rode upon Anai, his bat-like demon, leading his host of a thousand. The sky was clear and blue, though the smoke of demons darkened the land. Below them the forests wilted, the rivers turned gray, and the grass burned. The trail of death spread behind them across the land, all the way to the southern coast. Ahead still stretched the wilderness, the untamed land that he would bring under his dominion. With the power of his demon army, he would not only crush the fledgling nation of Requiem; he would conquer the open north, turning Eteer into an empire.
"What is it?" Ciana asked, disgust filling her voice.
The young woman sat in the saddle before Raem, her back pressed to his body. Her weapons hung from her belt, and the wind ruffled her fur tunic. She wore the bronze mask that hid the ruin of her face, but Raem could see the scars of dragonfire peeking from beneath. She had only taken off her mask once, but the memory still pounded through Raem—a faceless woman, ravaged, deformed, a
n abomination unto Taal and his vision of purity. The dragons had done that to her. The dragons would suffer tenfold.
He stroked her hair. "Do not fear my scout, Ciana, my dear. It is a disgusting creature, an unholy insult to Taal, but a useful servant. It will deliver the dragons to us."
The creature that flew toward them looked like a severed hand the size of a tree. An eye blinked upon each shriveled finger, and a mouth opened upon its palm, lined with many teeth. When it reached the demon army, it fluttered toward Raem and panted, tongue dripping. It spoke in a high-pitched voice, the voice of a child.
"King Raem! Weredragons in the north. Four hands of them. Rocs too. Flying north! To a mountain like two skulls. I see them. I lead you there."
Raem smiled thinly. Four hands—only twenty weredragons. He laughed. Was that all this King Aeternum could muster—twenty lizards? Raem looked behind him at the sprawling host. Twenty dragons wouldn't even feed these creatures.
"This is no war," he said. "This is stomping on an insect."
Ciana twisted around in her saddle. She stared at him through her mask holes. "King Aeternum—Jeid Blacksmith was once his name—is crueler than any other weredragon you've ever seen. He burned me. He took my face. He is not an insect but a terror." She sneered and clutched her bow. "And we will slay him. We will slay them all. The king, his son, and all the rest of them."
They flew on, the land wilting below them, until they reached a gushing river that split the land. Upon its bank nestled villages, benighted human settlements barely better than the dens of animals. Ciana pointed down at one of the backwaters.
"Oldforge," she said. "My village. The weredragon family lived there once. That is where Tanin loved me." She clenched her fists. "That is where Jeid burned me."
Requiem's Hope (Dawn of Dragons) Page 12
