by Keri Arthur
Page 53
The Rakshasa came at me as one, a hideous mass of flesh that cut and tore. I blocked blows, ducked teeth and claws, and attacked as best I could, until the nearby walls were coated and it was hard to know what blood was mine and what belonged to the Rakshasa. But there was no stopping them, no matter how much flesh I hacked from their bodies, because they didn’t die. They just regenerated.
This wasn’t going to end prettily. Not for me, anyway.
And that meant I had to try something else. Anything else.
The fissure was several feet away to my left. It was big and dark, and air stirred sluggishly around it, hinting at a possible escape route. Or, at the very least, another chamber.
Anywhere had to be better than here.
I kicked the nearest Rakshasa in the gut, sending her sprawling into her companions, then swung Amaya viciously from left to right, hamstringing several others. Their attack briefly faltered. I spun and ran into the fissure. The walls closed in around me, slick and uneven. The air still stirred, but it was putrid and dense, and my lungs felt like they were on fire.
As my shoulders began to brush the sharp edges of the walls, I slowed, my heart racing and my breath a harsh rasp. Little sound came from behind me—certainly no sound of pursuit. And yet every sense I had pulsed with the closeness of danger. Whether it was coming from the Rakshasa behind me or something unseen up ahead, I had no idea.
I struggled on, slipping sideways through the rock as the space grew tighter. It was blacker than ink in this foul-smelling place, the light of the stalactites having long since faded. Amaya wasn’t emitting any flame, either, but I could hear her static running through my mind, a chant that vacillated between the need to kill and the urge for caution.
The fissure grew even tighter, until the rocks were scraping my breasts and butt. I cursed softly, then jumped as the sensation of movement stirred the air around me. I raised Amaya, holding her in front of me even though I couldn’t say whether the movement had come from ahead or behind. I scanned the darkness either way, but there was nothing to see or scent, and certainly no sound of steps.
But the Rakshasa were spirits, and maybe they’d finally shed their human skins. If that were the case, then I wouldn’t hear anything. And it meant I was in even deeper shit. I could fight flesh, and I could see ghosts, but would I even be able to see the Rakshasa in spirit form, let alone fight them?
I guess I was going to find out, because if the gathering sensation of movement was anything to go by, they were coming after me.
I pushed on, my lungs still burning and my head beginning to spin. I swallowed heavily and kept a fierce grip on Amaya. My skin was slick with blood—both mine and the stuff from the urn—but it didn’t make me slip through the rocks any easier.
Sound began to creep across the silence. It was soft and whispery, and I cocked my head sideways, listening intently. The image of snakes slithering down the body of the Rakshasa and onto the floor rose, and I groaned softly. As if I didn’t have enough to deal with.
My hip lodged against a rock and I twisted, trying to move around it, only to find myself stuck fast. Panic surged. With a soft cry, I raised Amaya and hit the obstruction as hard as I could with her hilt. The rock shattered like glass, spraying needle-sharp shards into the darkness and sending me sprawling forward. I landed on my knees—hard—and stayed there for several seconds, ignoring pain and gasping for breath as I scanned the ink and tried to get some idea of where I was. There was a sense of vastness to this place, which suggested the fissure had given way to something a lot bigger than the cavern I’d been in before.
Only trouble was, I wasn’t alone.
And there was an odd sort of consciousness in the air, a dark energy that thrummed around me even as the stone under my knees beat with faint life.
The house of their god, I suddenly realized, and wondered if I’d run from the frying pan only to step into the fire.
I swallowed heavily and pushed to my feet. There were no stalactites here to light the way, so I swept Amaya in front of me to feel for obstructions. The knowledge that someone was near grew, until it was so thick and sharp it flayed my skin.
“So,” the exotic Rakshasa said, her words soft but seeming to reverberate through the darkness, “you bear a dark sword. This is the power I sensed earlier. ”
I stopped and raised Amaya. Her chant no longer raced across the edges of my mind, but her energy still burned within me. “It’s a power that will kill you all if you do not let me go. ”
“No matter what weapon you bear, you are, in the end, flesh and blood. All we have to do is keep attacking. Once your life blood has soaked the stone and fed the god beneath our feet, we will dine on your flesh. ”
Something hit my right calf, and tiny teeth sliced deep. I yelped and jumped away, and the snake hissed. I swung Amaya, but didn’t hit anything. Damn it, I needed to see to be able to fight. I was all but blind, and relying on scent and sound just wasn’t good enough. Not when these creatures made little sound and had no scent.
One, came Amaya’s whisper, become.
I frowned, not sure what she meant. Static rolled through my mind, a sound of frustration if ever I’d heard it.
Open, she growled, join you.
Meaning she wanted me to open myself fully to her? Wanted me to allow her—a demon spirit encased in steel—free rein to run through me? Control me?
Not, she said. One.
I shivered. The one thing I’d feared from the moment I’d plunged her steel into my flesh and felt the surge of her power was that she would somehow gain a foothold in my mind and make me more like her. And now she was asking me to grant her the freedom to leave the sword and fully become one with me.
Every instinct I had suggested it would be a very bad move.
But if my only chance of survival was to do what I feared the most, then do it I would. That determination was what had driven me to confront Jak and ask for his help, and it still drove me now.
I just had to hope that once I’d given her freedom, Amaya would step back into steel when all this was over.
And that was one thought to which she didn’t reply.
The air stirred to my left. I swung around, stabbing Amaya in front of me. The exotic Rakshasa laughed softly—from the right, not the left. Something hard and cold hit my back and I jumped away, swearing as I swung around. Again, I hit nothing but air.
Blood was now running freely down the back of my legs, and every drop that hit the stone seemed to make the heartbeat stronger.
“The sleep of our god ends,” she whispered, this time in front of me. “Soon he will awaken fully, and then we will bleed you out. ”
“Not if I can help it. ” To Amaya, I said, Let’s do it.
Invite, she whispered, excitement in her tone.
Trepidation shivered through me, but it wasn’t like I had a lot of options left. I took a deep breath, then silently said, Amaya, become one with me.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then power exploded, thick and heavy, surging through steel and flesh with equal ferocity. It was a storm that tore my core apart, fiber by fiber, then pieced me back together, all within a matter of heartbeats.
Only it was no longer me, but we.
Because I wasn’t alone. Someone else was in here with me, sharing my body and my thoughts, even as she shared her powers and abilities. It was a strange, unsettling sensation.
We opened my eyes. The darkness fell away, and the Rakshasa appeared. Or rather, the blue shimmer of her energy appeared. She was standing five feet away, and there was a pool of seething, sinewy flesh at her feet. She flicked a finger to the left, and several snakes instantly slithered away. Looping around to get behind me.
Amaya hissed. It sounded weird coming out of my mouth. We didn’t move, just held the sword as we studied our surroundings.
The cavern itself was vast and roughly triangul
ar in shape. Blue bolts of energy shot across the walls, the rhythm matching the beat of the heart. It seemed to be originating from a shadowed enclave at the very tip of the triangle, and I suddenly remembered what Azriel had said: Smash the god’s power, and the Rakshasa will be fixed in flesh and more easily killed.
That was our way out of here.
Fight, Amaya growled and raised the sword, sweeping it from left to right so fast that the steel sang as it cut through the air.
No, I bit back. We stop the dark god rising first.
The snakes swept in. We moved, the sword little more than a blur as we struck, killing the snakes in one deadly sweep. The Rakshasa sent more snakes at us, but I had no intention of hanging around, waiting for them to get close.
My one chance of getting out of here alive might lie in reaching that enclave and destroying whatever lay within it, and I wasn’t about to waste it.
I forced my limbs into a run, battling Amaya’s desire to stand and fight as much as the weakness in my limbs. The Rakshasa’s reaction was swift and deadly. She lunged after me, her sharp nails flashing. I twisted away, but she raked my back and a scream tore out of my throat. Not just from the pain, but also from frustration. Her nails were poisonous and I had no idea how quickly it would take effect and render me immobile once again.
Then I thrust that thought aside. All that mattered was reaching the enclave, and right now I could still run. My feet slapped quickly against the cold stone, but there was little sound to be heard other than the harsh rasp of my breathing.
Something hit the back of my legs and I stumbled. I flung out my arms to steady myself, and somehow retained balance. Again something struck at me, this time tearing into flesh. Snake. Fuck. The sword swung and there was no more snake, just clear ground between us and the enclave.
The exotic Rakshasa came at us. I heard the wind of her approach, felt the burn of her energy against my skin. We twisted away and swung the sword, the dark point slicing across perfect features, splitting flesh and cutting down to the bone. Her skin from cheek to chin peeled away, the flap hanging loose and giving her a half-skeletal look. She screamed, but it was a sound of fury rather than pain. We twisted again, and lashed out with a heel. It hit her high in the neck, hard enough to crush her larynx. Whether it did or not I had no idea, but the force behind the blow was enough to send her flailing backward.
