by Aja James
He falls with a howl, and I waste no time slicing his head off with a downward arc of my spear as I rebound from my crouch. I don’t hear the whispering disintegration of his physical form as I concentrate all of my senses on locating Erebu.
He is near, I can feel it. He must have disguised himself if Ishtar cannot see him with her eyes.
What is he going to do?
The weight of foreboding and terror for my son’s life almost crush me, but I cannot afford to be distracted, as swords and javelins stab and slice my way.
I must have faith.
Goddess, please.
Give us strength.
Lead us to victory this night!
Chapter Fourteen: Fools, You Do Not Know
*EREBU*
We’re fucked.
No other way around it. I see it as clear as day.
Inanna and Gabriel are back to back holding off three warriors each. Both have sustained heavy injuries already, their strength flowing out with copious amounts of their blood.
Ishtar is shifting from Great White Beast to regular-sized snow leopard to vampire form depending on the situation and opponent. With her climbing agility, she’s focused on attacking the warriors who shoot at us from a higher vantage point.
Her Beast form protects her from most projectile weapons, her hide much thicker and stronger than in regular animal and humanoid forms, but it’s not impenetrable. The tip of a broken spear is embedded between her neck and shoulder, but she ignores it, pouncing on yet another enemy soldier that’s about to fire upon Tal.
Valerius and Cloud are attacking the Paladin in concert, while also keeping a half dozen other warriors at bay. Every time they advance upon Medusa’s ring leader, they lose ground again having to answer the strikes of the horde of enemy soldiers.
They also have to hold back with Dalair, because they don’t want to kill him. (And also, they’ve been warned about Sophia the Destroyer, so they can’t afford to kill him). The effort of dealing debilitating blows that don’t also kill is a tricky one to balance. I’ve seen both of them pull back strikes at the last possible moment. Must be frustrating as hell.
And then there’s Tal.
The General is a killing machine.
I watch like a star-struck cheerleader on the sidelines as he stands with legs braced wide in the middle of the creek, wielding that long, double-tipped spear like it’s an extension of his body.
He’s so fast, his movements are a blur. Or rather, he seems to move a moment before an attack comes, deflecting and redirecting the hits with incredible ease.
Unlike the others, he’s grounded. Without sight, he can’t easily climb the jagged cliffs on either side. He doesn’t know this space and doesn’t have time to explore it. He can only hold his position and defend himself.
He’s a sitting duck.
But then, that’s the point. We planned this.
I am not sure Medusa cares enough about Ishtar any more to want her back alive. I think she’s completely forsaken her sister, and the feeling seems more than mutual.
But Medusa will still want Tal.
She’s obsessed with him. And she’s obsessed with revenge. The greatest revenge she can exact from Ishtar is to take Tal once more. It would destroy both of them, which will delight Medusa above all else.
So, Tal is bait.
I expect that Dalair is the one sent to “retrieve” him. He’s probably the only one of Medusa’s army who can over-match Tal’s skills and take him alive.
The other soldiers are skilled, but Dalair has been strengthened and amplified in other ways (as I am well aware, since I oversaw the process myself). And Dalair is a born military tactician. He might be mindless, but he’s smart.
It’s why Medusa targeted him to turn. She wanted a leader for her armies. Of all of the Elite warriors, Alexandros, Leonidas and Dalair have the most experience as military commanders. It’s why they were targeted for abduction and turning, while Valerius was simply targeted for annihilation.
I think Medusa would have wanted a shot at Maximus, the Chosen’s Commander, too, but he was always guarded closely by his familiar, Simca, and now, ever accompanied by Ariel, his Mate (who looks exactly like Simca in animal form, which honestly confuses the hell out of me, but I digress).
Speaking of which, three streaks of white, black and gold shoot through the pitch-black night like missiles, taking out a handful of enemy soldiers at once.
The cavalry has arrived! Maximus, Ariel and Rhys have joined the fray.
I’ve taken on the appearance of a deceased foot soldier, keeping myself out of the heat of battle.
In this disguise, the Pure Ones cannot place me, and they pay me no mind since I am not trying to kill them. Medusa’s soldiers ignore me as well, since I am supposedly one of them, though I hold a sword in one hand and a long dagger in the other rather uselessly.
The arrival of the Chosen has evened the odds, pushing Medusa’s last line of defense back toward the mouth of the creek. The Pure and Dark Ones are gaining ground, making their way to Avalanche Lake, ever closer to Medusa’s lair.
That’s when I see Dalair efficiently extricate himself from the nexus of battle, leaving Valerius, Cloud, Maximus and Ariel busy with a dozen turned warriors in his wake.
He is coming for Tal.
He must be. He is trying to accomplish his mission—to take the “prize” back to Medusa alive, without having her personally engage.
But that’s not what we want. Oh no, the whole plan is for her to personally engage. How else would the Pure Ones get a shot at her?
Not that I expect anyone will be able to take her down, mind you. I haven’t seen her monster form first-hand, but my bet is on the monster. I mean, it would be totally anticlimactic if she wasn’t all that, don’t you think?
Nevertheless, call it morbid curiosity, call it capriciousness—I want to see it.
I want the Pure and Dark Ones to have a shot at her. If nothing else, it will be a glorious show!
So, that’s why I decide to interject myself (really, that’s the only reason) into the dynamics that are unfolding.
I see Dalair starting to edge down the ravine toward Tal, who continues to defend his position below. I transform myself into a form I know the Paladin will be distracted by, no matter who’s in possession of his mind and soul. His body is still his body, after all. He cannot deny the instincts of a fated, mated male.
His eyes focus on me immediately, his body tensing taut.
Bingo.
I smile a little at him (an attempt at come hither, but I’ve been out of practice for many months with this whole seduction thing, so it might have been more of a grimace, the sort that graces one’s face when surreptitiously passing gas).
It works anyway, hallelujah.
He stalks toward me, barely noticing anyone and anything else around him, pushing one of his own soldiers out of his way, down the ravine, when the male accidentally gets too close.
A thrilled little shiver shimmies down my spine.
Dalair is magnificent when his attention is so intensely focused on you, zombie apocalypse type of attention though it might be. I now know exactly why Sophia is so addicted to him (smaller dick notwithstanding).
I walk slowly into the forest, angling a seductive look over my shoulder every few steps, making sure that he follows.
He does, his long strides eating up the distance between us, his black eyes disturbingly intense.
Finally, when I’ve lured him beyond the view of others, beyond even the view of Medusa’s perimeter surveillance cameras (because I know exactly where they are; I have my sources), beneath the rock overhang of a small cave, I turn around and wait for him to come to me, the sword and dagger hidden behind my back.
When he’s only a few feet away, just shy of arm’s length, he stops and assesses me with those blank, yet glittering black, demonic eyes.
My eyes get like that too, when I haven’t had Pure blood for a while. But now they’re
blue-green like Tal’s.
I’ve seen my real self in the mirror. I will never forget it again.
I wonder what he’s thinking. If he can think anything beyond animal instincts and Medusa’s commands in his current state. I wonder if he can sense that I am not who I am pretending to be, if that’s what’s making him pause.
I decide not to push my luck by speaking. Though I can make my voice sound like my disguise as well, I don’t want to add another variable that might tip Dalair in the wrong direction. I need to lure him closer, while also not inciting him to attack or leave.
Holding his ferocious stare, I step back a little into the cave.
He steps forward, but maintains the same distance between us.
Something seems to catch his attention, and he turns his face slightly, listening.
It’s now or never. I can’t hold his focus much longer.
I lunge the few feet of distance between us and try to run him through with the sword.
He sidesteps easily, twisting just enough to avoid the blade while pulling me into him with one arm.
I try to stab him in the neck with the dagger next, but he deflects that too with his forearm, not caring when metal meets bone as it sinks into his flesh.
Easily, he disarms me, trapping me, his nostrils flaring to take in my scent.
I know the exact moment that he sees through the disguise, his eyes going flat and murderous.
That’s when I play my last card, transforming into my Creature form.
“Stop,” I order in my sing-song, half-male-half-female voice.
Abruptly, he releases me. I can see his whole body quiver with the stress of his inner battles.
But it works. My painstaking torturous experiments on him worked!
Yes, I enjoyed making him suffer. I told you it’s a love-hate relationship between us. But I also tortured him to the edge of death repeatedly for a reason.
Medusa wanted to ensure his total allegiance by inserting a fragment of her poisonous soul into him like she did me. I managed to convince her that wasn’t the best option. She was already unraveling from all of the fragments of her soul that she’s relinquished over many millennia. More fractures could have irreversible consequences. She got that.
But I also needed to convince her that the Paladin is completely under her control through other means. So I amplified Wan’er’s experimental, chemical turning methods on Dalair. It was incredibly tricky to keep his ability to think while wiping his soul blank. And keep him alive throughout the laborious, agonizing process too.
Then I got the brilliant idea to insert a piece of my soul into him, just enough to keep his own soul on deep-freeze while preventing it from departing his body (and therefore leaving him dead and disintegrated). And because of this, I wondered…
Maybe I can command him just a little. He’s mine in a way, just as I am Medusa’s.
It worked!
I don’t want to push my luck, though, so I act quickly.
“Lie down on the ground and don’t move.”
Stiltedly, his movements jerky and awkward, he does as I instruct.
He’s fighting himself hard. I can see that his instincts and Medusa’s orders are warring with my commands. At any moment, he could snap out of it. I could lose my hold on him.
“This is going to hurt you a lot more than it hurts me,” I tell him.
And then I pick up the discarded sword and dagger and stab him in the chest with one, between the ribs with the other.
His body jerks, and he bares his teeth in the only indication that he feels the pain, but he doesn’t make a sound.
Jackpot. I think I struck lung and liver. That should make the healing process slower. But just in case…
I pull the weapons from his flesh, making sure to twist the blades on the way out, making his wounds even more severe, then stab him again in vital organs.
“Aren’t you glad you have a brother like me?” I grunt with the effort of dealing him just shy of mortal wounds.
“Someone who cares enough to kill you almost dead in order to save you? Someone who made you strong enough to take these almost mortal blows without dying? Someone who gave you his own fucking wife. Don’t anyone ever accuse me of not sharing. A man doesn’t get more magnanimous than that.”
His body jerks and shudders with each stab. Dark, almost black blood leaks out of his mouth. All the while he stares unblinkingly up at me with those murderous black eyes, promising retribution, no doubt.
Yeah, get in line, amigo.
Finally, I heave off of him, out of breath. I throw the blood-drenched blades away, hearing them clatter and clang as they hit rock and ground.
“Now, you don’t have a choice but to stay down,” I tell him, emphasizing the last two words in one final order, though I don’t know if my will has any more effect on him.
It doesn’t matter. He’s incapable of getting up any time soon, his wounds too great. But the fact that he’s still in his corporal form shows that he won’t die from these wounds.
I know exactly how much he can take. After all, I pushed him to the edge of death countless times during the years we’ve had him in our “care.”
I turn to leave, hoping I’m not too late to watch the once-in-a-life-time showdown with Medusa. Now that her second-in-command is out of commission, she has to come out to defend herself.
But Dalair’s gritty voice stops me.
“Right…right side.”
“What?” I lean over him a little to hear better. Surely he’s not asking me to stab him again in the right side?
“Medusa…right side. Left…regenerates. Avoid…”
The import of his words finally dawns. I look down at him amazed.
Agony-filled silver eyes stare up at me, his chest heaving with the effort of speaking. More dark blood spills out of his mouth.
I nod in comprehension.
Finally, his eyes close. His body goes slack.
“When you awake, you’ll be home again, Dalair,” I whisper, even though he can no longer hear me.
Gently, I smooth a lock of blood and sweat-matted hair from his cheek.
“I have a plan. I won’t let you down. Don’t you let me down, either. It’s going to be the hardest thing you’ve ever done, fighting to regain your soul. But you’ll be in good hands. You’ll have help. Just try not to die in the process, okay? Or kill anyone? Wouldn’t want to trigger the Apocalypse. My son, Benjamin, must live on.”
To myself I mutter, “It has to work. It has to.”
With that, I leave Dalair hidden in a bloody, massacred mess in the cave for the Pure Ones to find later.
But first, we’ve got a she-demon to take down, and I hold the secret to getting it done.
*** *** *** ***
When I run back to the edge of the cliff that overlooks the creek below, I see that the tides have turned in Dalair’s absence.
The Pure and Dark Ones have gained significant ground.
Steadily, they push Medusa’s last line of defense toward the lake. There are only a couple dozen enemy soldiers left.
I scramble down the nearest hill and sprint toward the action. I have to tell the Pure Ones what I know.
Just as I draw closer, we all freeze in position, doing everything we can to maintain our footing as the ground beneath us fractures and quakes. Lighting splits the night sky in that moment, followed by a world-rending boom of thunder, as the clouds burst with a torrential downpour.
The water of the lake drains in a whirlpool all of a sudden before bubbling back up like a tidal wave. Something as big as a nuclear-powered submarine rises steadily within the vortex. One long neck with a sharp-toothed serpent head extends from the gigantic body of the creature, rearing up and opening its massive jaws in a monstrous, earth-shaking roar.
Holy fuck.
I crane my head back to watch it rise. And my neck just keeps on craning. Because that thing is bigger than the biggest dinosaur.
It’s not done.
Just as the first head finishes roaring, fanning the jagged scales out around its head like spikes, a second long neck attached to a second ugly head unfurls from the surface of the lake, creating a tidal wave in the process that knocks down the warriors nearest to the water’s edge, uncaring that they are soldiers in her own army.
What the fuck!
Where did that second head come from? Unless that’s Medusa’s hydra form? How many heads does a hydra have anyway?
Right side…
Dalair’s parting words whisper in my head.
It is a hydra, isn’t it? I can’t recall any other serpent of lore that looks half as foul. Whereas my brief glimpse of Cloud’s celestial jade-green dragon filled me with awe and joy, this unholy colossus before me fills me with fear and despair.
The second head unleashes a high-pitched screech that all but makes my ears bleed. Without warning, it extends toward the advancing Pure and Dark warriors and spews a fountain of nasty looking fluid from its mouth.
The good guys wisely leap out of reach, avoiding getting splashed by the unknown substance. Wherever the liquid lands, it hisses and burns, and I watch petrified and horrified as it melts through stone like a hot knife through butter.
On the heels of that terrifying display, the first head opens its jaws again as a glowing lump moves through its long neck toward its mouth—before an explosion of black fire shoots out, decimating hundred-year-old trees and blowing through the rocky cliff, frying some of her own soldiers in the process.
We are totally, utterly fucked.
I do a quick visual scan of the Pure and Dark Ones, seeing that they are all still present and accounted for, if shaken, bleeding and broken in places.
Ishtar in her giant leopard form stands in front of Inanna and Gabriel, guarding them behind her, as she herself seeks cover behind a large boulder. Inanna and her Mate can barely stand. They cannot engage in fighting any more, that much is clear.
Maximus and Ariel in their giant animal forms have leapt out of the way of the hydra’s paths of destruction, but there is no further cover to duck behind should she strike again. They are on the nearest bank of the lake.
