Beautiful Salvation

by Jennifer Blackstream

  Saamal gritted his teeth and managed to flex the fingers of his right hand. The movement was sluggish, weak—embarrassingly so, but still he moved. “Yes.” Relief trickled through him as he dared to hope he could overcome the elixir of the sun’s effects in time. “Adonis, help me up.”

  The demon nodded his understanding. His flesh wavered, crimson coloring his skin as onyx leathery wings unfolded behind him, lashing through the air as they fought free of his body. Horns curled around his temples and his eyes lit up like twin suns. He scooped Saamal up in his arms and carried him to the window. Vicious winds tried to rip him from Adonis’ arms as the demon hefted them both onto the ledge then launched himself into the air. Saamal looked out over the land and his heart seized in his chest.

  Chaos. Adonis and Etienne were right, the land itself was going mad. The briars were writhing like a nest of snakes, upset by the wild bucking of the earth beneath them. Adonis rolled with a sudden gust of wind, dodging a lashing limb covered in wicked thorns as long as a dragon’s eyeteeth. They lurched to the side and nearly tumbled to the earth as the demon fought against a violent crosswind, trying to land on a piece of earth that was not rolling in agony or collapsing into a jagged-bottomed pit.

  Finally they dropped, scarcely missing the lip of the original pit Saamal had noticed by the castle. He rolled out of Adonis’ arms and pressed his palms to the earth, letting gravity pull his weakened flesh into the dirt. The rush of energy he should have felt, even with the land as barren as it was, was a mere trickle. Saamal gritted his teeth and concentrated on taking slow, deep breaths, blocking out the elemental discord around him. He called the sluggish spirit of the jaguar from inside him, extending his claws then curling them until the sharp tips dug into his palms.

  Warm blood washed over his hands and he pressed them to the earth. “Cipactli, hear me.”

  The earth heaved and thrashed, sending Saamal flying dangerously close to the pit. His body rolled like a ragdoll tossed by the wind as he struggled to find the energy to make his arms move enough to stop himself. He scrabbled at the dirt, slowing his momentum as he reached the precipice of the pit. He peered over the edge at the gleaming vicious rocks lining the earthen floor. Hot air blasted from the pit, the breath of an infuriated Cipactli. Nerves writhed with dismayed energy. He imagined he could feel the crocodilian immortal closing her teeth on his flesh, taking his body as recompense for the shattered pact between them.

  Saamal set his jaw and worked his body until his hands were over the pit. The effort it took exhausted him, but he forced himself to keep moving to fight against the lethargy the elixir of the sun had infused every fiber of his being. He let the blood slide from his fingertips down onto the rocks, willing the power in his blood to stir.

  “I am here, Cipactli, and I have not forgotten our pact. I am working to bring back what is your due. Have patience.”

  A roar unlike anything any reptilian throat ever made on earth echoed up through the pit, blasting Saamal with more heated breath and the foul odor of old blood. He gritted his teeth and tried to hold on as the earth surged up, rolling like the tail of a great monster until it snapped, flinging Saamal into the air like a ragdoll. He fell toward the pit, the gnashing rocks at the bottom filling his vision, and Adonis shouted from a few meters away where he fought against the wind, trying to get back to Saamal. The incubus let out an earth shaking roar and leapt to catch him, but the wind ripped at his wings, fighting him for every inch so that he hovered in the air, trapped. Saamal grabbed the edge of the earth as he hurtled into the pit, claws digging into the rocky soil as his lower body dangled limply into the abyss. Pain screamed through his joints as he held himself above the gaping maw below.

  Adonis gave up trying to fly to him and dropped to the ground, flattening himself against the writhing earth as much as he could and clawing his way toward the pit. He flung out a hand and grasped Saamal by the wrist. Saamal struggled to raise his lower body as Adonis pulled him out, filling his mind with thoughts of Aiyana, of how she would remain trapped in the Dreamworld if he could not escape this fate. A weak, but much-needed tingle of energy fought to life inside him and he kicked at the edge of the shaft, climbing over the edge.

  He was almost free of the pit when a sudden vice closed over his ankle with crushing force. Saamal screamed, agony shooting through his body like heated fire irons, stabbing him ruthlessly until his left leg dangled uselessly behind him. The pressure vanished and Adonis gathered him into his arms with one final, desperate heave. They both tumbled backward to the ground as the world around them began to quiet. The earth rumbled to a low growl, the land still shaking, but no longer pitching like a rolling sea. The briars trembled, but ceased their thrashing. The wind died down, as if it had never been, and Adonis immediately took advantage of the lull to throw himself into the air with a few beats of his enormous wings. He carried Saamal back to the window of Aiyana’s tower, warily circling around the brambles that had nearly snagged them on the way out.

  The silence was deafening as they entered the castle again, the lingering turmoil outside mere background noise. Saamal groaned, feeling something wet and sticky on his left leg. He looked down as Adonis lowered him back onto the furs of his temporary bed and hissed as he found his left foot had been severed at the ankle—bitten off. Cipactli had claimed a piece of her retribution, no doubt the only reason the land had calmed as much as it had. Saamal gritted his teeth, hoping his pound of flesh had bought them enough time.

  “What in the name of Fenris happened out there,” Etienne demanded, staring at the stump of what had been Saamal’s left foot.

  “Cipactli is pissed.” Adonis shoved a black clawed hand through his wild hair. “And she’s not accepting any apologies. This is where my assistance with women ends, gentlemen.” He threw his hands in the air and started pacing the room. “You’re on your own with this female.”

  Saamal ignored the tremble creeping over his body and the incubus’ nervous ranting. “Too far. It has gone too far. I’ve given up half my power, the sacrifices have been stopped—here and in the Dreamworld. The pact has been shattered and Cipactli will not be appeased until she is given her due.” He shifted his leg and looked around for something he could use to bandage it. He was too weak to heal such a wound quickly. It would be a miracle if he didn’t go through the rest of his existence as lame as the Greek god of the forge.

  “And what is her due?” Etienne asked. He unfastened the belt at his waist then tugged it free. With sure, quick movements, he wrapped it around Saamal’s leg and began to tighten it into a tourniquet.

  “Blood price,” Saamal answered, clenching his teeth as the pain in his ankle grew, pulsing with increasing intensity as the belt tightened. “She is owed a century of sacrifices, and she will take them now by whatever means she can. The pits you see will continue to grow, continue to open up all over the kingdom. She will eat her fill until she is satisfied.”

  “We can’t let that happen.” Etienne growled, giving the belt one last jerk.

  Saamal let his chin fall to his chest for a moment, breathing through the pain. “I don’t have the power to stop her.”

  “Then we’ll all help.” Etienne stalked over to the table near Aiyana’s bed and snatched up the pitcher of water and a clean towel. “Between the five of us—”

  “Cipactli does not want power, Etienne,” Saamal ground out. “This is not Sanguenay. This is Mu, and ours is a kingdom forged in flesh and blood. The pact that was ours to honor has been broken. Cipactli is not asking for anything to which she is not entitled.”

  “Then you’ll just let her eat whomever she wants?” Etienne gaped at him, the pitcher tilting precariously in his grasp. “Women, children?”

  “No,” Saamal snapped. He tried to sit up, wincing at the violent tremors that tried to shake the flesh from his bones. “She is mollified, at least in part, for now. I must wake Aiyana and her family. The sacrifices must be reinstated.”

  “You’ve been trying to
wake Aiyana—we’ve all been trying to wake Aiyana. What do we know now that will help us wake her when up to this point we’ve failed?”

  Saamal sucked in deep breaths as he managed to get to a sitting position, the exertion forcing a sweat to break out on his forehead. His skin was cold, clammy—a result of blood loss. He blinked, trying to focus on Adonis’ words. “Up until this point, there has been hope for me to save my kingdom. But now my people hover on the brink of death, the end of my world. There is only one option left to me.”

  “I don’t like the sound of this,” Etienne muttered.

  He knelt on the ground beside Saamal’s bed, eyeing the wound where Saamal’s left foot had been. He held the towel under the bloody stump and poured water gently over it. The water pitcher and cloth hung forgotten by his sides, the water spilling onto the floor in a growing puddle. Saamal pressed his lips into a thin line, tension singing in his hands as he gripped the bed, fighting the pain as the werewolf started cleaning the wound. Etienne was being as careful as he could, but the flesh was raw, the nerves exposed. Cipactli had not been gentle.

  Adonis stepped closer to Saamal. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to give Aiyana the rest of my power. Perhaps if she had all of it, she could somehow free herself from Chumana’s curse.”

  Saamal hesitated, an image of Aiyana’s smiling face lighting up his mind. He remembered her father’s words, spoken in the passion of a parent for the welfare of his child. The old man had been willing to sacrifice his kingdom for his daughter. Saamal’s heart ached and he closed his eyes. If only he could see her father now. He wanted to tell the old king he understood.

  “Saamal, you can’t do that. If you give up the rest of your power, you’ll be mortal. You know as well as I do that this is not the time to make yourself helpless, and even with all of our help, you wouldn’t be safe from the enemies you’ve made.” Etienne scowled and stood, crossing his arms. “A terrible plan. Perhaps you need lessons from the vampire as well.”

  “The werewolf is right,” Adonis agreed. “You can’t do that. There has to be another way.”

  “I have to.” Saamal braced himself for the pain as he tried to sit up once again.

  Adonis snorted. “I suppose I should have been more clear. You’re not going anywhere.”

  “Yes, I am.” Saamal clenched his teeth. “I appreciate all you’ve done, but this is how it must end.” He shifted his legs to slide them off the bed.

  Adonis put a hand on his chest. It was a simple gesture, and the demon didn’t press very hard, but a demon was no mortal. His strength was such that his hand may as well have been a stone monolith. Saamal couldn’t budge.

  Anger rose like a serpent inside him, spitting fire and writhing in helpless fury. “You would hold me here while my people die?”

  Adonis flinched and averted his eyes, but he didn’t move his hand. “Saamal, we will do everything in our power to protect your people. But I won’t let you make a decision you won’t even live to regret.”

  “There is no other way!” Desperation joined his anger and Saamal wished he had energy to spare, anything he could afford to waste forcing the demon away from him.

  “Are there wolves in your kingdom?” Etienne asked suddenly.

  Saamal flicked his gaze from Adonis to Etienne. “Yes.”

  Etienne nodded. “I can call wolves here. We will patrol the kingdom, try to keep your people from Cipactli’s pits.”

  Adonis tensed, shooting Saamal a glare as if warning him not to move. He strode to where Etienne stood at the window. Etienne paused, arching an eyebrow at the demon, but Adonis motioned for him to continue. “Call them. I’m going to give you a little astral boost.”

  Etienne narrowed his eyes as the demon put his hands on his shoulders, but he turned to the window. Tilting back his head, Etienne let a howl spill from his lips. The long, keening sound poured through the air like liquid moonlight, almost tangible as it echoed out into the chaotic sky. There was an eerie resonance to the howl, a reverberation that cast it out even farther until it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. After he’d finally closed his mouth again, Etienne shook his head.

  “A strange feeling,” he muttered, rolling his shoulders.

  Adonis obligingly dropped his hands and stepped back. “Perhaps. But every wolf in the kingdom will have heard you, as well as a great deal from the surrounding kingdoms. That howl echoed on the astral plane. Part of a werewolf’s spirit can hear the astral plane. Every werewolf in the five kingdoms will have heard that howl, and if they’re inclined to help, they’ll be here.”

  “I may be able to help you somewhat as well, Etienne,” Saamal spoke up, viciously ignoring the traitorous spark of hope that threatened his previous resolve for his death curse. Adonis frowned as he sat up, but Saamal ignored him and gestured for the werewolf to come closer. Etienne stepped up to his side and Saamal put a hand on his forehead. “Ocetotl.”

  Etienne shivered and shook himself like a wolf ridding its fur of water. “What was that?” He blinked, his eyes flaring brighter gold as energy infused the air around him. Shadows rose to the surface of his skin, sprinkled over his neck, shoulders, and back like faint tattoos in the form of jaguar rosettes.

  “I have given you the gift of speaking with jaguars.” Saamal eased himself back onto the bed as exhaustion penalized him for the energy expenditure. He decided against pointing out the physical manifestation of the ability, not certain Etienne would appreciate the spots. “My cats will listen to you as your wolves do now. Let them help you.”

  Etienne started to leave through the main doorway, but Saamal called out to him.

  “There is a secret passageway in the corner. If you take the path to the right, it will lead you out into the garden. The garden is the last lush place in the kingdom, it will be the safest.”

  As Etienne vanished into the passageway, Adonis turned back to Saamal. “You need to get some of your power back. We can’t have you this weak. You’re the one tied to the land, our ability to help will be limited. Is there anything we can do to reenergize you?”

  Saamal eased his head back. “Cipactli’s hunger is too great, anything that strengthens the land will go to her. There is nothing that will help me but rest.”

  “Or Aiyana,” Adonis pointed out. “How did that go?”

  The mention of his bride-to-be brought warmth to Saamal’s heart, a strange sensation given the unrest surrounding him. He smiled. “She agreed to marry me.”

  Adonis’ eyes widened. “That’s it then. You can marry her on the astral plane and get your power back.”

  Saamal shook his head. “Marrying her on the astral plane was my means of convincing Chumana that she has no cause to continue striving to be my wife. For the prophecy to come true, Aiyana must marry me on the physical plane, where we can stand on the earth and offer our blood to the land.”

  “Is there anything you people do that doesn’t involve blood?” Adonis muttered.

  Saamal ignored the sour note in his voice, still thinking of Aiyana. “She will be a great queen.”

  “If we can wake her up,” Adonis insisted stubbornly. “Are you certain kiss of Death meant your kiss and not actual death?”

  Rage surged through Saamal and he lunged off the bed, grabbing Adonis by the arm as he stumbled, his body trying to slump to the floor. The incubus bellowed in pain as Saamal’s claws pierced his flesh, holding him in a falcon’s grip. The stump of his left leg thudded against the floor and Saamal used the blistering agony that rushed through him to bolster his resolve. His body trembled, but he was able to get his right foot under him, helped by his merciless grip on Adonis’ arm.

  “You will not lay a finger on her,” Saamal seethed, digging his claws in a little farther. “I will never hear you speak of her death again.”

  Adonis opened eyes gone crimson with his own rage. Smoke curled out of his nostrils and when he spoke, his voice was muffled by the mouthful of jagged teeth. “I would
never hurt Aiyana, you colossal fool.” His voice rasped against his vocal cords, an evil, sibilant sound. “Though I would point out that that is very likely something your future queen would do only too willingly if she thought it would save her people. But then, I suppose willing sacrifice is only for those people whose names you don’t know.”

  Saamal jerked back, his claws sliding free of Adonis’ flesh. The demon didn’t break eye contact, didn’t even flinch as his skin began to close on its own. His wings rose and fell with his steady breaths as his glowing eyes continued to bore into Saamal’s.

  “I know their names.” Saamal’s voice was low and he didn’t look away from Adonis’ fiery stare.

  “But you didn’t care for them, didn’t love them,” the demon said evenly. “Their sacrifice was just duty to you, something honorable they did to honor Cipactli. Not the same when it’s someone you love, is it? Makes you wonder about the families of all those willing sacrifices.”

  Saamal gaped at Adonis, taken aback by the venom in his voice, the steel in his resolve. “Where is the shameless incubus with a grin for every situation and a notable penchant for not taking anything seriously?”