"Who cares?" the first voice answered. "Just film it, it's great footage. Watch your step, there's a woman puking right here."
"That's my cousin, if you don't mind," Clare said indignantly as she bent over me, pausing to ask in a much more civil tone, "Are you movie people?"
"Dude, check out the babe," the second man said, nudging the first with his elbow.
"I'm a model, not a babe," Clare answered, and despite her frivolous nature, ignored them to help me to my feet.
"Get the statue," I gasped, the world spinning around me as I tried to fight down another wave of nausea.
"What? Oh." Clare pointed at where Beppo was leaping from rock to rock, dodging the flying bodies and spinning swords to reach his master. "Too late."
"No, it bloody well isn't," I answered, staggering forward as best I could.
Sam! Stay where you're safe! Paen was next to a huge boulder, swinging a sword black with demon blood, one demon clinging to his side while two others rushed toward him. Behind him, Finn was fighting with a battle-axe, the two men protecting each other's backs. They used their weapons with such skill, and moved with such coordination—one swinging left while the other went right—I wondered if it was due to skill or experience.
That damned monkey has the statue. I'm OK, just take care of yourself. Above you!
Paen snarled an obscenity in my head as a demon threw itself down on him. I knew I would be helpless in battle with a broken arm, so I plunged forward, through the fringes of ghosts battling demons.
"That's mine," I yelled to Pilar as Beppo leaped up his arm, the Jilin statue in the monkey's furry little hands.
Pilar smiled as he took the statue from Beppo, turning to raise it triumphantly over his head. "Behold, Yan Luowang! The statue which you created in my image! It has returned to me at last."
"Nooooooo!" screamed Caspar from where he perched on a rock. His body twisted in anguish—or so I thought for a moment. As it continued to twist it grew, lengthening, folding up on itself, his features becoming misshapen parodies of a human face. I realized then that he was changing out of his human form, his true demon lord body being revealed. It was a horrible sight, so foul my eyes instinctively skittered away from looking at him. "Revenge… will… be mine!"
"Into this vessel you poured all your hatred, all your knowledge of the Old Ways. With its destruction, so shall you be returned to your origins. Return to the fifth hell, Yan Luowang! Return and leave this world in peace!"
"No!" I screamed, Caspar's anguished howl a horrible echo. I snatched up a palm-sized rock, took aim, and hurled it directly at Pilar's head. The piece fell harmlessly at his feet as he turned to look at me. "I brought it back! It's mine! You are not going to destroy it!"
"You will not win this time!" the horrible monstrosity that was Caspar screamed, and leaped toward us. Finn, Paen, and the ghosts all moved as one to stop him.
"Man, what's with ugly guy's costume? Someone's been playing way too much Dungeons and Dragons," one of the film people said.
"Dude," the other one said in acknowledgement, and turned the camera on the sight of the demon lord version of Caspar going down under a swarm of Scottish ghosts.
Pilar grabbed me by the throat and hauled me upward, until I was dangling a good six feet off the ground. "You dare intervene in a sacred duty?"
"It's my statue," I croaked, unable to breathe with the hold he had on my neck. "I found it first."
Sam! Paen shouted, evidently having just seen my predicament. I knew without looking he was hacking and slashing his way through the demons that were trying to free their master.
"It must be destroyed," Pilar told me, unmindful that I was turning blue. "It contains the source of his powers. Without it, he will be confined to hell, where he belongs."
"Can't… breathe…" I gasped.
"It was given to you by mistake," Pilar continued, just as if I wasn't slowly asphyxiating in front of him. "It was taken by Paymon, a rival demon lord, several hundred years ago. I knew Paymon would not allow Yan Luowang to have it, so I was content to wait. But Yan Luowang is clever. He has gathered power over the centuries, waiting for the moment when he could steal the statue back. I bartered for it from Paymon before he could do so."
"I… can't… breathe…" My lungs ached to draw in a breath, but Pilar's grip on my neck prohibited any air from passing.
"Here come the Marines," one of the Americans called out as behind him, film extras ran to join the battle, yelling enthusiastically as they had been coached to do. I wanted to shout at them, to warn them that they could be killed, but there was no way I could do anything but dangle helplessly in front of Pilar. I clawed at his hand with my one arm, but he didn't seem to have any trouble at all holding me up for an extended period of time.
"As the servant of Yan Luowang, I was able to monitor his quest for the statue. It would be just a matter of time before the Dark One he charged with finding it would come to you, so I attempted to remove you from the scene by giving you another task, but you, foolish one, would not leave."
The screams of several men tore through the night as a veritable volcano of Scottish ghosts erupted off of Caspar, their bodies cartwheeling as they were flung high before plummeting back to the ground.
"Now, that is some quality battle choreography," one of the Americans commented. "No wires, yet. Impressive."
"You… Owen… Race?" Red spots started appearing before my eyes. My legs kicked madly as I tried to break the hold Pilar had on me.
"Instead, you intercepted the minion Paymon had sent to bring me the statue, completely mucking up my carefully laid plans. Yes, I am Owen Race. I am also known as Samaria Magnus." Pilar stopped for a moment to narrow his eyes at me. "You are not a very good investigator. You should find some other form of employment."
"Sun Wukong, I will be—" Caspar went down again as a herd of movie extras flung themselves on him.
"Tried to… kill us?"
Pilar gave me another of his disappointed looks. "You do not know what will happen if Yan Luowang were to regain power. He would not be content to rule in Abaddon—he would lay claim to the mortal world as well. I would do anything to stop him, even if it meant killing innocents."
The red spots merged into puddles and formed interesting shapes as they danced before me. "Why… tell me?"
Between them, Pilar looked moderately surprised at my question. "It is traditional, I believe, for the villain to explain all his plans just before he kills off the pesky heroine."
"Not… pesky… determined …" I gave up fighting him, and hung limp from his grip, the burn in my lungs so great I just wanted the red blobby things to ease my suffering.
"You're not watching enough movies, demon. The audience always wants to see the hero win," a deep, masculine, angry Scottish voice said behind him.
"Dude, catch the guy on the rock with the bodacious sword!" a voice called out over the roar of the battle.
"Can't, filming the D and D guy. Look at him go! He's picking them off like they were fleas."
"Paen, no!" I managed to choke out, blinking madly to clear my vision. Paen had managed to get on the rock behind Pilar, and was in the middle of a downswing that, judging by the size of the sword he carried, likely would divide the monkey god.
Pilar swung around, his arm raised to block Paen's attack.
It was too late for Paen to stop the downswing, but he didn't even ask why I wanted mercy for the man who was currently choking the life out of me—he threw his body weight to the side so the sword struck Pilar at a different, less deadly angle.
"What is it about you and arms?" I asked, gasping in great lungsful of air as the stranglehold Pilar held on my throat was released by dint of Paen lopping off his arm. I rubbed my throat, wondering if I'd ever be able to swallow again.
Paen and Pilar stared at the gruesome member lying at their feet.
"Er…" Paen said, then looked at me. "Why didn't you want me to kill him?"
"You took my ar
m off!" Pilar said, his face filled with amazement.
"Because he's a good guy," I answered Paen hoarsely, wincing at the sound of my voice. Paen's eyes narrowed on my throat.
"Good guys don't try to throttle innocent women," he said, swinging the sword back up so the tip pointed at Pilar's jugular.
"You cut it right off. My arm, you cut my arm off." His nostrils flared as he raised his head to glare at Paen. "Do you have any idea how long I've had this human form? Six hundred and twenty-seven years. I liked it! And now you've had my arm off."
"You were strangling my Beloved," Paen said, his eyes flashing quicksilver.
"She was trying to stop me from destroying Yan Luowang," Pilar replied, raising the statue over his head.
Caspar roared out something I didn't understand, charging straight at us, extras falling off him like confetti.
"Please, please don't destroy it," I begged. "We need it to fulfill a debt. Couldn't we have it just long enough to do that, and then you can use it to destroy Caspar?"
"No," Pilar said simply, and slammed the statue to the ground.
Existence hesitated for a moment. Everything, every living being, every inanimate object, every elf and demon and imp, even the earth itself paused for a moment as if to understand the implications of Pilar's action, then continued on as if nothing momentous had just happened.
But something did happen. The ugly, squat statue of a monkey hit the granite and mica and all the other minerals that went into forming the rocks and earth of the lodestone, and shattered into four pieces.
Caspar screamed and threw himself at us. I screamed (hoarsely), and stared with eyes filled with tears at the pieces of the statue. Paen lunged forward to stop Pilar, but the monkey god was too fast for him, leaping off the rock with a jubilant laugh.
Paen's beautiful silver eyes met mine, and I fell to my knees with the anguish I saw in them.
No. There has to be another way. This isn't the end.
It is, sweetheart. The debt can only be repaid by the statue, he answered, and grief so deep it seemed endless welled up inside him and spilled out onto me.
Caspar, in his twisted, horrific state, screamed in Chinese as he scrabbled at the remains of the statue. I grabbed one of the pieces, intending to brain him with it—not that I knew it would do anything to permanently harm him—when a thought struck.
"Here," I snarled, snatching up a piece of the statue and throwing it at him before reaching for another piece. "Here. And here, and here. You now have all the pieces of the Jilin God. The debt Paen's father incurred with you is now fulfilled! I demand acknowledgement of receipt of the statue before deep night!"
"You!" The twisted face of Caspar was a truly sickening sight to behold, but it was made almost unviewable by the hatred that filled it as his eyes raised to mine. Paen wrapped an arm around me and pulled me up so I was held tight to his body, his wonderful warmth soaking into me. "You think you have won, but you have not. For I have this!"
From the head of the monkey statue Caspar withdrew a small, rolled-up bit of parchment. "Behold, the Simia Gestor Coda! Into it Sun Wukong wrote all the knowledge of the ancients, all of my knowledge that he stole from me!"
Paen sucked in his breath, releasing me to lunge for Caspar, but the god of death leaped aside, holding the manuscript tightly. Behind him, Finn slashed through a couple of demons obviously intent on reaching Caspar, but it was no good.
"Now you will suffer as you have made me suffer," Caspar gloated, his body stretching into a thin, ribbony suggestion of a human. "You too will spend an eternity in torment, and when at last you decide to end your own agony, I will be waiting for you!"
"No!" Paen shouted, throwing himself onto Caspar.
Eerie, high-pitched, evil laughter was all that remained as Caspar succumbed to the inevitable and was pulled back into his domain in hell, taking the manuscript with him. The demons suddenly vanished, leaving the ghosts and extras fighting nothing more substantial than air. They all froze, and for a moment, there wasn't a sound.
"Dude!" a voice said in awestruck amazement.
"Did you get that?" a second voice asked.
"Er… get the big guy in the ugly costume and all those little brown guys disappearing?"
"Yeah."
"I got it, but no one is going to believe it."
Paen helped me to my feet, being careful to avoid jarring my arm. Sweetheart?
The howling wind inside me seemed a horrible parody of Caspar's mocking laughter. Pain twisted deep within, pain and despair and hopelessness.
Sam? Paen's fingers were warm on my chin as he tipped my head back so he could see into my eyes. Don't cry, love. We'll find another way.
"He's gone?" Finn asked, covered in black demon blood, panting as he stopped to help Clare over a gore-splattered stone.
"Ew," she said, prodding Pilar's detached arm. "That's just gross. So, we won?"
Two fat tears rolled down my cheeks. Paen pulled me up to his chest, but not even the lovely glow of his soul could warm me now. "I'm cold," I told him.
"I know, sweetheart. We'll get it back. If I have to go to hell myself, we'll get it back."
"Get what back?" Clare asked, her brow furrowed. "I thought we won."
I wrapped my good arm around Paen and held him tight, allowing him to pour into me all his love and warmth and everything that he was, but it wasn't enough. Sharp fingers of despair kept me tight in their icy grip.
"The Coda was lost," Paen said to Clare, but he never took his eyes off mine.
"Oh, the manuscript that's supposed to tell Sam how to get her soul back? But I thought that wasn't a sure thing?"
"It isn't…" Paen said, stopping before he could complete the sentence, his arms tightening around me.
I did the job for him. "But it was the only chance we had."
"Non-deities have such linear thinking," Pilar said, leaping over a few rocks to land a few feet away, Beppo clinging to his shoulder.
I wondered for a moment why I wasn't surprised to see Pilar wasn't affected in the least by losing an arm—then I realized I didn't feel anything inside that wasn't an all-consuming hopelessness.
"He does not have the Coda. There is no Coda. There never was. The manuscript he has is nothing more than a few scribblings I made centuries ago. It was intended to draw Yan Luowang out of hiding. And it succeeded."
Paen lifted his head from mine to look at Pilar, his beautiful eyes stark with loathing. "I will destroy you. I don't know how, but this I swear—I will destroy you for what you've put us through… for what you've done to Sam."
Not even the fact that Paen would undertake such an impossible task warmed me. I shivered, wondering if I would ever be warm again, and leaned into Paen, too exhausted even to think.
"She's diminishing," I heard Clare's voice say. The words were familiar, but they didn't seem to have meaning to me anymore. My focus was on the tornado of misery that ripped through me. "My aunt said something once about elves who diminish. They just sort of fade away until they are no more."
Sam, my love, hold on to me. Don't leave me now, not when I need you. I can't live without you.
Paen's words seemed to come from a long way away. I examined them, holding them, wondering why such beautiful words should mean nothing to me anymore.
The pain washed over me.
Hold on to me, love. I'll help you with the pain.
There was no sense fighting it.
You must fight it, Sam. Don't give in to it, don't let it sap your strength.
My ending had been written. How ironic that it would happen now when I had found the one person I was ready to give up everything for.
Dammit, Samantha, I will not let you go! You are a strong, smart, sexy woman and I will not lose you. Now fight, damn you! Fight for me!
"Can't you do something to stop it?" Clare asked, her voice thick with tears.
Pilar sighed, his voice as distant as everyone else's. "I've always found elves to be so melodramati
c, but since she did stop you from slaying my mortal form, I will return the favor."
"You've done enough already," Paen snarled.
"Not yet, but I'm about to. This will accord us without debt on either side," Pilar said.
"What—"
I was ripped from Paen's side, yanked without ceremony from my existence to another one, a world filled with drifting souls and beings which had been caught there.
"Behold the Akashic Plain," a familiar voice said behind me.
Epilogue
"You already talked to him—why do you need to talk to him again?" I held the phone away from my ear for a second. "No, he's not going to change his mind. He's not that kind of man, and besides, he can't. I'm his Beloved. He can't impregnate me and leave me for someone else. Well, OK, he could, but he wouldn't because he's nice. And he loves me. A lot. He was going to destroy a god for me! Only a man head over heels in love would decide to do something so ridiculous."
My mother, never one to keep feelings to herself, unburdened herself of several items, up to and including the likelihood that the elf side of my family would look down on Paen because of his dark origins. "Like I care what they think?" I flinched at the barrage that followed that statement. "Sorry. Yes. Yes, I hear you. Yes, yes, yes. Huh? Of course we're going to get married! I don't know about Clare—she and Finn seem to be pretty tight. More than her usual boyfriends. I think they may be getting serious. We'll just have to see how that goes."
Outside, traffic hummed along merrily in another gloriously sunny—AKA rare—May day.
"No, you can't talk to him again, you've talked to him three times already today. Someone finally tracked down his parents, so he's telling them everything that's been happening. Yes, you'll meet them. Yes, they're nice. Mom—" I sighed and prayed for patience. "No, I won't let his mother help me pick out a wedding dress, OK? I have to go. No, now is not a good time to look into ear reconstruction surgery—I'm happy with my ears! Paen likes them, too. No… no… it's not a matter of money, I just don't want them re-elfed! Look, I really, really have to… Mom… Mom, Paen is stark naked with an erection that could bring down buildings, and he's calling for me. Gotta run! Love to you and Dad. Again. Bye!"
Even Vampires Get The Blues do-4 Page 26
