Sword of the Gods: Agents of Ki (Sword of the Gods Saga)

by Anna Erishkigal

  Ninsianna leaned forward. "Go on?"

  "When my uncle got home," Apausha said, "he was very depressed. In our society, a man's place is to support his family, and with only one hand, he could no longer be a soldier."

  "What did he do?"

  "At first he felt sorry for himself," Apausha said. "But after a while, he began to teach himself to do everything he'd done before, only he did it using his less-dominant hand."

  "Really?" Ninsianna said. "How well did he do?"

  "It was awkward at first," Apausha said. The lizard-man's snout curved up into a toothy grin. "His handwriting was so terrible that we used to tease him that perhaps he'd have better luck writing with his toes!"

  Ninsianna frowned. "That wasn't very nice."

  Apausha flushed pink beneath his pebbled green skin.

  "No, it wasn't," Apausha said. "But in my defense, I was still a hatchling, egged on by my sister-mother's older sons."

  Ninsianna gave the lizard man a knowing nod. "Such it is with naughty boys everywhere."

  They both chuckled and made small talk about what it was like growing up in their respective homeworlds. The lizard people had huge families, all interwoven by a complex weave of siblings, half-siblings, multiple wives and hundreds of children, but otherwise their lives didn't sound so very different from her own. Apausha was terribly fond of his wife, and he missed her dearly, a humanity she found appealing.

  Her twice-daily medical examination done, Ninsianna began to neatly arrange all the bandages, tape, scissors, and other implements back into the nice black satchel Lerajie had brought her. She held up a little tube of the salve which Apausha called an antibiotic.

  "I shall have to ask Lerajie for more of this," she said. "I am almost out."

  "I'm surprised he's been pilfering his ship's medical supplies for you to treat me," Apausha said. "Your husband's people and I are enemies."

  "Oh," Ninsianna shrugged, "he did say he'd gotten in trouble. But he told them a lie. He said it was one of the women who'd gotten hurt. The Evil One's lieutenant made a big deal about it, but Lerajie went to all his shipmates and told them one of the women was not insane." She pointed at the squabbling, yowling women with disgust.

  Apausha tasted the air, his expression nervous.

  "It's not wise to bring oneself to Zepar's attention," Apausha shivered. "Never had I felt the presence of evil until Zepar tortured me."

  "But Lerajie is one of his crewmen!"

  "Zepar and his two goons were always the ones to meet my shuttle." Apausha pointed at the insane females. "One time we stumbled a little too close to Lucifer's quarters with Lerajie and his friend. I thought Zepar would spit nails."

  Ninsianna remembered the way Zepar had sniffed her like a hyena sniffing its prey. Yes. The Evil One wasn't the only one who was evil.

  "I will urge Lerajie to be more discreet."

  Apausha nodded, appearing relieved. They both fell silent as she finished packing up the medical supplies, especially the tiny, silver scissors, implements she'd needed to turn up every ounce of her charm to get Lerajie to procure. She slipped the scissors into her pocket, not her healer’s bag. The finger-long implements wouldn’t be much of a weapon, but in a pinch, it was better than nothing at all.

  "Ninsianna?"

  "What?"

  "Perhaps your gift is like my uncle's hand?" Apausha said.

  Ninsianna did not meet his gaze.

  "She-who-is abandoned me because I disappointed her."

  "Did you ever consider She-who-is might not know where you are?"

  "But the goddess is all-knowing," Ninsianna said.

  "Is that really true?"

  Ninsianna remembered the game she'd begun to play when she'd travel into the dreamtime, to gather information without the goddess knowing about it.

  "No," Ninsianna said. "The dreamtime is huge. If you are clever, sometimes you can sneak around without her finding out."

  "Then perhaps that is what happened to you," Apausha said. "I'm not gifted as you are, but when Lucifer's chief-of-staff captured me, he told me he had made it so Shay'tan wouldn't know I was still alive. There's not much you can hide from the old dragon. If the Evil One can fool Shay'tan, than perhaps he can also fool She-who-is?"

  "Perhaps," Ninsianna said. She pointed to Apausha's half-eaten fruit and porridge. "Now eat. And then I want you to get some rest. You can't heal if you keep re-opening that wound."

  As she made her healer's rounds through the other women, Apausha's words stuck with her. All her life she'd felt connected to She-who-is until, all of a sudden, she simply wasn't anymore. How many times had she fought with her Mama, but even when Mama was angry with her, if she was in trouble, Mama always came. Would She-who-is just cut her off without a warning?

  No. Apausha was right. If She-who-is couldn't see her, it was because the Evil One had figured out a way to hide right under the goddess' nose. Which meant it was up to her to find a pathway out … just like Mikhail had done when he'd twisted together wires and sent picture-words across the stars, hoping to get in contact with Raphael.

  She coaxed the ebony-skinned woman out of her bunk and checked the progression of her pregnancy. From the size of her womb, she was close to term, though it was hard to tell because Angelic offspring was larger than a human baby. What would happen if the babies were too big? When that happened in Assur, usually both mother and baby died. Who would tend to her when her own baby was born? Would she bear it alone? Or would…

  No!

  She shoved the image right out of her mind. For months She-who-is had sent her nightmares of the Evil One cutting her baby out of her womb. That had already happened, but it had been an illusion. It was done with! Over! She-who-is no longer sent the visions.

  Doubt whispered in her mind. 'But in your vision, your baby was always close to term…'

  She distracted herself by focusing on her patient.

  "Have you started to feel your womb gripping at your baby?"

  'Ibilisi,' the ebony-skinned woman whispered. The only time she ever made eye contact was when she brought Apausha his morning fruit.

  The sound of the door opening from the outside hallway caused a cry of fear to ripple through the other nineteen women. Ninsianna glanced up, expecting to see one of the guards push in a cart of food and froze as she met the gaze of a man who, other than the fact his coloring was fair instead of dark, bore a slight resemblance to her husband.

  The ebony-skinned female shrieked and raced back up into her bunk.

  "That is Eligor," Apausha hissed from his alcove in Kemet, the Earth language they used whenever they did not wish the Evil One's minions to understand what they discussed. "One of Lucifer's most trusted men."

  Fear gripped at Ninsianna's gut as Eligor made a beeline straight towards her. Her hand slipped into her pocket to caress the tiny silver scissors. Oh, how she wished she still had her obsidian blade! She stood straight and jutted out her chin, pretending she was not terrified.

  The tall, white-winged Angelic stood before her, impossibly tall and intimidating. Although not quite as muscular as her husband, in a fight she could tell the man would give Mikhail a tough time, especially as he wore the callous attitude of a mercenary. He had sandy blonde hair, piercing blue eyes tinted with a hint of grey, and slung low around his narrow hips were two pulse rifles, one strapped to each thigh.

  Ninsianna's heart raced as he scrutinized the medical implements laid out neatly on the table, and then tilted his head down to scrutinize her. She suppressed the urge to run. Mikhail had that same, unreadable gaze, only unlike her husband, Eligor wore a look of hostility. Without thinking, her hand slid over her womb to protect her baby.

  "Lerajie claims you are fluent in our language," Eligor said.

  Ninsianna swallowed. She considered pretending she was insane, but something about his gaze warned her that this man would not be fooled.

  "Somewhat," Ninsianna said, her voice almost a whisper. "There are many words I have
not yet learned."

  Eligor grunted.

  "And where did you learn this language. From him?" His voice was laced with disgust as he pointed at Apausha.

  "I learned it from my husband," Ninsianna said.

  "And did your husband send you to sabotage my crew?" Eligor asked. He glanced down at her swollen abdomen, his expression filled with disapproval.

  "What?"

  "Ba'al Zebub said there was a rogue Angelic on the planet," Eligor grabbed her by the shoulders. "Who is it? Are you a spy? Which faction got here ahead of us?"

  "That's none of your business," Ninsianna snapped.

  Eligor shook her. Hard.

  "Dammit, woman! I have to know!"

  Ninsianna trembled in fear. Thus far she'd avoided telling Lerajie who her husband had been. Like the others, he'd simply assumed she was one of Lucifer's numerous wives, dropped off someplace at an earlier time and then recaptured, a misunderstanding she'd done nothing to correct. Anger boiled in her veins. How dare this man speak that way of her husband; her beautiful, dark-winged husband who had died trying to rescue her from the Evil One!

  "You know damned well who my husband was," Ninsianna shouted. "After all, you killed him!"

  "Who was he?!" Eligor shook her again. Beneath his blue-grey eyes, she detected … worry.

  Ninsianna saw red as her anger transformed into rage. Papa said it was dark magic to use one's spirit light to harm another person, but who the hell did he think he was? This Angelic who presumed he could just barge in and push her around? Apausha thought she could relearn to use her gift using the non-dominant ability to feel she had inherited from her mother? Fine, then. Let him feel this!

  She pictured her words were a sharp knife and focused it through that frustratingly dense healer's gift of empathy her mother had always tried to teach her, the gift she'd always scorned.

  "Go to hell!"

  Using the same black magic she'd used to take control of Shahla and the mouse, she slapped him, picturing as she did that she stabbed a knife of hatred right into Eligor's brain, into the intricate spider-web of spirit light she could no longer see, but the goddess had shown her was there.

  Eligor's head jerked back and his wings twitched in pain.

  "Damantia!" he yelped.

  She expected him to drop dead or at the very least bleed out of his nose the way Shahla had done, but unlike the weak-minded Shahla, Eligor, knew how to prevent her from doing it a second time. His lips moving, reciting nonsense-words, he grabbed her hands and slammed her backwards into a chair.

  "Don't you ever do that again!"

  He squeezed her hands so tightly she feared for a moment he would break them. She tried to muster more hatred, but even hatred, it seemed, was a fuel which could be expended, because she could no longer access the spider-web to give him a second dose of pain.

  "You're hurting me!"

  "You think I don't know when somebody is fucking with my mind, witch?" Eligor snarled at her. "I've had a lifetime of practice protecting myself from being mind-fucked by far more powerful men than you!"

  He towered over her, red with fury. For a moment she thought he might beat her, but then he stepped back, his feathers rustling with agitation. He schooled his expression back behind an unreadable one, so much like Mikhail's that it made her heart hurt.

  "Now I will ask you again," Eligor spoke in clipped syllables. "And you will answer me honestly. Unless you'd rather I drag you down to Lucifer's bedroom and allow him to question you?"

  Ninsianna trembled with fear. Lerajie had assured her that once Lucifer impregnated his wives, he had no further interest in them, but it was not his child whom she carried. With Mikhail dead, the only thing she had left of him was his child. If Lucifer did to her what he had done to the other women, it was likely she would miscarry. Mikhail was dead. She had to protect his son.

  "His name was Mikhail," Ninsianna whispered. "We were married during the summer solstice. It is his child I carry."

  Eligor blanched.

  "I know of only one Mikhail in the Emperor's employ," Eligor said carefully and evenly. "Did you know this Mikhail's last name?"

  Ninsianna swallowed.

  "Mannuki'ili," she said. "Colonel Mannuki'ili."

  Eligor's flesh turned as white as his wings.

  "You lie!"

  A curious question crossed her mind. Why was the Evil One's chief henchmen asking her who they had killed when it was his boss who had ordered the murder?

  Apausha lumbered forward, one hand clutching his gut, the other held upward to signal he meant no harm.

  "Stand back, lizard!"

  Apausha stopped.

  "You know I have always been a man of honor, Eligor," Apausha said. "Ninsianna tells you the truth. Your Eternal Emperor got to the planet ahead of you."

  "Why, then, was I not told of this?" Eligor demanded.

  "Perhaps you should ask your boss," Ninsianna said.

  Eligor reddened, and then turned to leave without speaking another word. When he got to the door, he turned back and pointed at her.

  "Lerajie claims you are a healer?"

  Ninsianna hesitated, then followed his gaze to the guilt strewn about the table in the form of the black medical kit and supplies.

  "Yes."

  Eligor snorted.

  "I got a patient for you, witch," Eligor said. "If he dies, it's all on you."

  Ninsianna opened her mouth, and then closed it again. Her eyes as large as saucers, she met his gaze and nodded. Whoever this injured person was, she would treat him.

  "I will do my best."

  Eligor's gaze hardened.

  "And stop fucking around with Lerajie's head!" Eligor hissed. "He's a good man, the only decent man on this ship. If you don't quit egging him on, you're going to get him killed!"

  Ninsianna's mouth opened and shut. She had no idea what Eligor was talking about. The only conversations she'd had with Lerajie had been to discuss what medical supplies she needed and things she'd wished he'd say to the other crewmen.

  Eligor stepped through the doorway and slammed it behind him so hard the walls of the harem vibrated. Ninsianna sat frozen in her chair.

  "What was that all about?" Ninsianna asked.

  Apausha tasted the air with his long, forked tongue, no doubt tasting for the magical little message-carriers the lizard man had explained were called pheromones.

  "It appears Lucifer has been keeping things from his men," Apausha said. "I taste fear, anger and surprise." Apausha tasted the air a second time. His snout curved up in a smirk. "And perhaps a little attraction?"

  "Attraction? For who. Me?"

  Apausha snorted.

  A plan began to form within her mind.

  "Apausha?" Ninsianna asked.

  "Yes, Ninsianna?"

  "Remember the conversation we had about how a woman's place was to entice a man to be better than he was before?"

  "Very clearly," Apausha said.

  Ninsianna fiddled with the hem of her dress.

  "If you can't escape this ship, would you want your wife to find a new husband to care for her and help her raise your hatchlings?"

  Apausha's maw curved downwards into a sad smile.

  "Yes, I would," Apausha said. "Marina is a fine woman, level-headed with a sharp intellect. She will make some man very happy."

  Ninsianna touched his clawed hand. Despite the differences in their species, both of them grieved for lost spouses, although at least Apausha's was still alive.

  "Then you won't think less of me if I use my … charm?" Ninsianna said. "To entice Lucifer's men to be better inclined towards us?"

  The door opened. In strode Ruax, carrying a mop and bucket, followed by Procel, pushing along the cart carrying their food. Both chattered, ignoring the twenty women and lizard-man.

  "So he stops me in the hallway," Procel said to Ruax, "and tells me to move the guy into this room."

  "Are you sure?" Ruax grumbled. "Seems like an odd order, to stick a
male in with all these females."

  "They're already pregnant," Procel said. "It's not like he can cuckold the alpha-stud. Even if he wasn't catatonic."

  Ninsianna stared at the two men who conversed as if she was too stupid to understand them. Neither man was her idea of husband material, but that didn't mean she couldn't flirt a little to get them to do what she wanted, just as she'd been doing with Lerajie.

  Apausha gestured to the other nineteen females who had rushed down to his now-empty alcove.

  "Perhaps if you could entice these men to bear them a little bit of compassion," Apausha spoke in Kemet, "they'll prevent Lucifer from taking them to his bed a second time?"

  Ninsianna stared at the frightened women huddled together like ducklings being circled by a hawk. Ruax and Procel were coarse, uncouth creatures, but each had their favorite. She'd noted the way they often smuggled in treats from the kitchen to coax that favorite not to run away.

  "And what of me?" Ninsianna asked.

  Apausha stared out the closed door. He shut his eyes and tasted the air with his long, forked tongue.

  "They all find you attractive," Apausha said. "But you surprised him. I do not think he expected you to be so intelligent. It's his weakness, I suspect. The reason he serves Lucifer even though he's got the man's number. He wants a mate who will be his equal. If you're forced to pick from amongst these men, then I suggest you focus on him."

  "Who?" Ninsianna asked.

  "Eligor."

  ~ * ~ * ~

  Chapter 49

  December, 3,390 BC

  Earth: Village of Assur

  Gita

  It was warm here, and for the first time for as long as she could remember, Gita felt safe … and loved.

  'Ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine!' Mikhail counted. 'One hundred! Ready or not, here I come!'

  Amhrán ducked down behind the stone wall and pressed her wings against her back, trying hard not to giggle. For months they had played this game, and each time Mikhail found her. Amhrán began her chant, the one she used to hide.

  'Rocks to rocks, dirt to dirt, hide me from prying eyes, so I don't get hurt...'