Riposte (Purgatory Wars Book 2)

by Cobolt, Dragon

  “Fuck you!” he shouted, then plunged the jagged edge of his beloved sword up and into the beast's crotch. There was nothing there, but the skin was still softer there than it was on the man's torso. He worked the blade up as far as he could, then scrambled away as the Spartoi fell to the ground. Two down. Liam grinned, then his eyes widened as he felt his ankles being caught.

  The third one.

  The Spartoi looked at him with glowing red eyes.

  No more javelins.

  No more Delenn.

  Liam gulped slowly.

  The Spartoi lifted up its cleaver.

  “I pronounce on you,” a voice cried out, familiar and loud, “The Judgment of Ka – your vitality is stolen, foul one.” A glowing golden aura flared around the Spartoi's chest, shimmering and rippling. “I pronounce on you, the Judgment of Sheut – for your shadow holds nothing but darkness. I pronounce on you..”

  The golden hue had spread now, consuming the shadow that spread across the floor. Liam's eyes widened as he saw that smoke was trailing from underneath the Spartoi's mouth.

  “...the judgment of Ren! For you are Nameless! And so, you are Nothing!”

  Neb stood behind the raised dais the whole battle was taking place on, her paws spread, golden lightning crackling over her fur. A shimmering ankh appeared behind her as her eyes flashed with more light.

  “Back to Ammit with you, soulless one!”

  The Spartoi roared, the first time it had ever shown a hint of pain or fear or emotion. It's eyes flared brighter red as it dropped Liam to the ground. Liam, who had seen enough movies and read enough books to guess what would happen next, flung himself forward and tackled Brigid to the ground as the Spartoi was wreathed in golden flames – the roar growing louder and louder and louder.

  Then…

  It exploded.

  The impact jarred Liam's back and he heard whining chunks of bone and soft plops of flesh splatter the wall over his head. His arm crooked over Brigid's head and he tried to cover her with as much of his body as possible. Then, slowly, the sounds of pattering and clinking bits of Spartoi faded and Liam drew back. He realized he had pinned the Goddess of Healers and Poets to the ground, her hair mussed, her robes partially spread, showing the curve of one breast.

  Shockingly, the most surprising thing wasn't the fact that – objectively – Meg had a better pair of tits. Liam had already realized that what made Brigid a goddess wasn't some kind of otherworldly beauty. He had expected her to be merely cute, as opposed to breathtaking.

  No, what was shocking was that she had a tiny golden ring through one nipple.

  Liam blinked a few times, but then Brigid tugged her robe shut, her eyes glinting with amusement.

  “Not even you are that lucky, Liam Vanderbilt of Earth,” she said, quietly.

  “R-Right!” Liam scrambled to his feet and helped her up. The two of them stepped past the ruined magistrate counter to see the survivors surrounded by the dead, looking at them in shock. Liam saw Liv helping bind up a wounded man's thigh while Tethis worked her magic on those hurt even worse. He saw the guards pushing the surviving criminals down to their knees.

  He didn't see any sign of Bryn.

  Then he spotted a pair of wings, barely visible past the crowds of people who were standing around to watch the aftermath.

  Liam walked forward, pushing some people gently aside.

  Meg was sitting on the ground, eating an apple as she lounged against Bryn, who was clutching her knee which had clearly been savagely broken.

  Meg grinned around a mouthful of apple.

  “Told you I'd maim her,” she said, cheerily.

  Six

  Liam watched as Vulkis' ship loaded with cargo and tried to not let the creeping depression slide back into his mind. He felt Meg's hand touch his back, rubbing gently.

  “Hey,” she said. “You look kinda down.”

  “I-” Liam stopped himself. He slowly shook his head. “I guess I kind of am.”

  Meg slapped the back of his head. “Liam, you successfully pulled a triple cross: you talked a pickpocket into giving that psycho bitch your iPod, so you could get Neb to 'betray' you just to get to her offices. Then you let yourself get tortured to give Neb time to find incriminating evidence. Then, just to put a cherry on top, you fucking saved the local goddess.”

  She laughed, pointing. “Look at all that fucking treasure.”

  “Easily worth ten thousand XP,” Liam said. But Meg could see his heart wasn't in it.

  “And, uh, the scribes say they got almost all of the books you said to copy off the iPod before it gave up the fight and died,” Meg said.

  Liam ducked his head forward, his hands sliding along the stone railing that separated the side of the docks from the ten foot plunge into the dirty water of the harbor. He looked up a moment later, shoving himself to a full standing posture. “Megara the Messenger, I love you. I wouldn't trade you for a thousand slave girls-”

  “I resemble that remark,” Liv interjected as she walked by – carrying their luggage towards the ship.

  “When is she taking off her collar?” Liam muttered.

  “Never, if I have anything to say about it,” Meg muttered back, grinning. “But go on, you were telling me how great I am.”

  Liam brushed his hands along his hair. “It's true. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me on two worlds, Meg. But, the simple fact is... I loved Earth. I loved America. I loved my Mom and my family and my friends. I miss them. And, well, I thought that if I had the iPod and my longsword, I'd... always have a connection to them.”

  He sighed.

  “Now that connection's gone.”

  Meg nodded, slowly. She cupped his cheek. “You still have that.”

  Her eyes darted down to Liam's crucifix. He touched it.

  “I remember when just seeing this would send you into a killing frenzy,” he said, grinning. “Not sure if I want it to be my only memento of Earth.”

  “To be fair, I admit that I was operating on mistaken assumptions caused by two thousand years of historical drift and propaganda!” Meg said, putting her hand to her chest. “I'll only start choking you if you like it.”

  Liam laughed.

  But before he could continue, a shadow fell over the two of them. Meg's hand dropping to her javelins for a moment, but despite the shadow's size, they only saw Brigid. The goddess looked normal height, but Liam was rapidly getting used to how gods fucked with the reality that they inhabited. She was followed by a small cart, pushed along by several guards in their best uniforms. She also held a small bag in her hands.

  “Liam Vanderbilt of Earth,” she said, her voice musical, but lacking the deep, resonant cascades that she had used before. “You are leaving our fair city so soon?”

  “What can I say?” Liam asked. “I need a vacation.”

  Brigid laughed, then held out the purse.

  “I wish to grant you a boon,” she said.

  Liam took the purse, but rather than feeling coins (which, he admitted, would have been surprising, considering the number of treasure chests that Vulkis was loading on his ship) he felt something hard and rectangular. And familiar. He opened the purse and looked at his iPod. His brow furrowed and before he could stop himself, he tapped the power button.

  The iPod lit up, glowing brightly. The battery said it was fully charged.

  “But-”

  “I placed a single piece of the imbas within it,” Brigid said, sounding amused. “The fire of inspiration will keep this inspiring you until my flames are snuffed out.”

  Liam's eyes widened.

  “And,” Brigid said, “This fact has been lost over the years – forgotten as Purgatory lacks the metals of Earth - but it remains true in my heart.” She touched her fingers to her chest, snapping her fingers a moment later. The guards stepped forward, carrying a large parcel. Cloth fell aside, revealing gleaming metal beneath.

  “I am the Goddess of Smiths,” Brigid said as Liam – his hands
shaking – took a hold of his sword. “It'd be embarrassing if I let you leave without this.”

  Liam looked at Delenn with eyes that were starting to brim with tears. His hands shook even more as he felt his throat closing up. But despite the emotion, he noticed subtle changes, small runes had been carved into the base of the blade where the blood groove had been. The edge of his sword shimmered faintly.

  “It has been blessed by the Tuatha,” Brigid said. “It shall cut down the fey, the undead, and other supernatural enemies with ease. It shall not bend, break or dull. And...” She smiled, slightly. “And it serves quite well as a night light for midnight reading.”

  “I-” Liam stammered. “I can't thank you enough, goddess.”

  “Sure you can,” Brigid said, her voice prim. “This plan was too clever for Aries. Too clever by half. And even Aries knows that you cannot have an eternal war – and yet, he works for it.” She shook her head. “Sobek, I am sure, will want you to investigate further. For something is rotten in the state of Denmark.”

  And with that, she turned and swept away.

  As she left, Liam shook his head. “Nerd,” he said.

  “Hmm?” Meg asked.

  “I'm just saying, only a nerd would read Shakespeare before glancing at my copy of Warrior Women From Mars.”

  Meg slapped the back of his head gently.

  * * *

  Liam closed his eyes as sailed away from Olimuras. His sword was strapped to his hip and his iPod tucked into a small pocket sewn onto a leather strap he hung around his neck. Placed there, its speakers could filling the air with the sound of music. His friends and lovers listened in silence – even the crew remained quiet, straining their ears to listen.

  The song ended and Liam opened his eyes to tapp pause.

  “Told you,” he said.

  “Fine,” Meg sniffed, wiping at her eyes. “Yes isn't a dumb name for a band.”

  Liv, though, was shaking her head. “What do you think about what Brigid said? About Aries? Because I think she's right.”

  “I think,” Liam said, quietly, “That what we've done here is successfully blocked the bad guy's attack. There's going to be a counter-strike. And when you're fighting someone you don't know, all you can do is keep exchanging blows until you see a weak point... then...” He slapped his hands together. “Pow.”

  They nodded, watching the port fade. Liam's brow furrowed. “Oh, hey, I think that's Neb!” He waved.

  The tiny figure waved back.

  “Surprised she didn't want to come with us,” Liv said.

  “Well, she said she had to finish her studies,” Liam said, nodding. “Still... she was fun. And she, once again, reminds me of why I'm so glad that different species can't interbreed.”

  “Hm?” Liv looked at him.

  “Well, without magic,” Liam said, chuckling.

  Liv slowly stood up, her hands resting on the railing. “You do know she's just blessed by Anubis, right?” she asked. “Under all that fur, the Chosen are just as human as you.”

  Liam blinked.

  Liv grinned, wickedly.

  “So...” she said. “How does your wicked pain cult view bastards?”

  And so, they sailed on, the crew and his friends ribbing Liam over his new clan of bastards, the number of which grew every day until the crew were speculating that he had populated an entire tribe. Through it all, Liam laughed, but at night, he lay in bed and his mind went around and around, worrying at the problem of their mysterious enemy – an enemy who could hoodwink gods and control basilisks.

  Where was their next riposte?

  Liam and friends will return in The Cross Guard, the next book of Purgatory Wars. Turn over for a sneak peek.

  Sneak Preview: The Cross Guard

  Liam watched as the last bit of Cindier Stonespeaker, the former mayor of Troy's Folly, vanished under the earthen ground that made up the center of the smallish Hellenic village that sat on the edge of the Wastes of Ra, and considered that there were far better ways to spend his anniversary.

  “Well,” Megara the Messenger said, sitting down beside him, “We did warn the git.”

  Liam looked at his lover and tried for a smile. But it was hard to feel anything but a grinding frustration and gathering dread. He had been on Purgatory – or, since Purgatory was an immense hollow sphere with a sun in the center of it, maybe the better term would be inside Purgatory – for almost a year, give or take a few weeks. And what a year. He had faced down literal gods – all of them banished to Purgatory in the ancient past – matched blades and wits with assassins and savage lizardmen, slain monsters and lain beautiful women.

  And yet, despite all of that, he could still be completely caught off guard sometimes.

  “I've still not found any records of it over here!” Tethis called from the building across the way.

  Any town – even one as small as Troy's Folly – that called Athena their patron goddess would have a library, especially half a year after the first printing press had been built. And of their small group, Tethis was the one most likely to end up cowering atop said library when thrust into a situation like this. The short, curvaceous gobliness scribe, mage and occasional lover was cupping her hands around her mouth to help her voice carry across the space between the library and the temple that Meg and Liam and a few dozen other villagers were sheltering on.

  “Of course you haven't found any records,” Meg called back. “No one's ever run into one of these fucking things before.” She paused. “Do you think it's still there?”

  Liam sighed, picked up a discarded sandal – left behind by the former mayor of Troy's Folly – and threw it out over the open ground that stretched between the two buildings. Detecting motion, the creature that had been hounding this village for two days and Liam's party since they arrived, broke the ground above it's be-tentacled, razor-toothed maw, and spat. Several dozen green-slicked crystalline darts flew into the air, leaving behind white contrails of smoke, shredding the sandal into pieces.

  Meg shook her fist at the maw as the ground shook, shuddered, and subsided – the earth flowing back into place over where the creature had opened its firing hole.

  Liam and his party – Meg, Tethis and his former slave and current bodyguard, Livianna – had been sent to Troy Falls after the roundabout chain of political dominoes that usually operated in Purgatory had fallen into place. Athena had stopped getting tithes from the village and had a sudden uptick of desperate pleas for aid. The soldiers she sent had vanished. Being unwilling to risk her men and women's lives needlessly, she had tapped a messenger to head to Sobek.

  Sobek – the crocodile-headed Pesdjeti god of ameliorated evil and Liam's past and current patron – had extorted a few chests of gold from her, then dispatched Liam.

  Why me? Liam had asked even as he packed his belongings.

  Why you? Sobek had asked, sounding shocked. You defeated Aries' daughter in single combat. He had jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Livianna, who at that moment had been sharpening her short sword. You foiled one of Purgatory's most dangerous assassins, killed a basilisk single handed, broke a lizardman tribe over your knee, killed a minotaur with your bare hands...do I need to go on?

  The fact the minotaur had died of an aneurysm – as Tethis had determined afterward while a baffled Liam and Meg watched her cut into the monster – didn't seem to faze a single bard in the whole damned world. And now?

  Now, the only good thing Liam could say about this expedition was that the monster had eaten their horses first. Well, that, and the fact that Tethis had gotten used to her new adornments. Even with healing magic, getting sensitive parts of one’s anatomy pierced made the rigors of the road somewhat harder to bear.

  “I suppose it could be worse,” Meg said, nodding. “It could be-”

  The sun that hung overhead plunged from light to darkness as if a door had been slammed. Despite a year of experience, Liam still jerked with surprise. He missed sunsets. He missed driving places. He misse
d the internet. He missed not having to worry about dying constantly.

  The sky rumbled and rain started to patter onto the roof

  “-raining,” Meg finished.

  “I also miss weather reports,” Liam muttered, then forced himself to his feet. He hurried back to the makeshift shelter that several of the villagers had erected on the temple's roof to protect them from the sun. Sitting underneath it, he pulled out his iPod and fiddled with it. A blessing from the goddess Bridget months before had prevented it from running out of batteries, but he was pretty sure music wouldn't help his mood at the moment.

  Meg joined him a moment later, slowly closing a single wing around his shoulders. Being a valkyrie, Meg had to feel even more useless. What use was her immense strength and incredible physical acuity, against an enemy the size of a house that had a shield of earth to protect it? Even her flight was useless – the thing could spit those acid-covered darts faster than even she could fly. Liam leaned against her and sighed.

  “You'll think of something,” she said, her voice confident.

  Liam grunted.

  “Come on,” she said. “This isn't even as bad as when we were tasked to kill that dragon.”

  “It wasn't a dragon, it was a crystalback with delusions of grandeur,” Liam said, grinning slightly. “And this is, easily, ten times worse.”

  “Says you. That crystalback blew a wing off.” Meg lifted said wing, flapping it once. Only quick action by Tethis' healing magics had knitted flesh and bone back together, and only Meg's amazing stamina had got her back to flying again within weeks. Liam rubbed his chin as the rain continued to patter against the temple roof and the makeshift protection. He blinked.

  “Wait, why are you saying this is better than that? You-” he stopped, spluttering. Meg beamed at him, delighting in his confusion. Liam laughed despite himself. He leaned against Meg, relaxing slightly. No matter what happened, if he was with her, he'd be okay. He closed his eyes.