by Kenny Soward
Chapter 29
Two slender arms stretched through Gruff’s widening torso. They glistened like wet pitch, reaching and pressing and kneading until the membrane split. A set of small, pale hands punched through, fingers wrapped in rings of gold and inlaid with stones soaked with the River King’s blood.
The forearms spread open.
A head pressed through, dripping with Gruff’s insides. A face rolled upward. A blank visage at first, but it molded into the shape of a fair young woman. Power radiated off her in waves, threating to turn Lonnie’s mind, and his guts, to butter.
Bess howled at the figure, spitting a prayer.
The rest of them fell back except him and Selix.
The woman's head turned in their direction, hair that might have been golden clinging bloody to her cheeks. A smile lighting her dainty lips beneath a button of a nose. The lips moved. “Brother. It’s been a long time. Come, welcome me.”
Lonnie watched Makare climb the rest of the way out of Gruff's sagging body, dropping the skin behind her like an old coat.
“Be careful. She wields rune power,” Selix said quietly, giving Lonnie’s arm a squeeze, holding him to the spot.
"Yes, I remember." And Lonnie did. That final confrontation in Xester so many years ago. The battle he'd failed to win. "How can we stop her?"
Selix squeezed harder. "She's tethered to Hell. I see it. If we can draw it out and cut it—"
Lonnie squinted, but he couldn't make out a single thing that resembled a tether. Wasn't sure he'd ever seen one before, but he'd have to trust Selix.
Makare had come free of the husk, standing there naked but for her rings and the coat of slime. Dark runes covered her body, pulsing and dancing across her skin. She stumbled, legs wobbly, but then straightened. She turned to the gang, one hand held out before her, palm up, rubbing her wet fingers together.
“Ah. Always hard coming through like that. I'd planned on using the old gate beneath this city’s tunnels, but I was drawn to this one." She gestured at Gruff's ruined form.
Selix’s jaw clenched. Her expression, hateful.
Lonnie shared her anger, but he should be the first one to draw blood today. Standing taller, Lonnie came ahead. He put his right hand in his left, ready to unleash his own runecraft. He nodded. “Sister.”
“You’re looking well, Brother.” Then she spit a laugh, fingers covering her mouth. “Sorry, did I say that? You look horrible. Unshaven and thin. Like you haven’t eaten in weeks.”
She can't know how magic works here, or at least how we’ve gotten on so long. She’s probably wondering just how we did it without a tether.
“And you're the same. Still conniving and killing anyone who doesn’t agree with you?”
Her face fell in mock disappointment. “Sadly, no. I cleared Xester of its traitorous vermin centuries ago. House Bet-Ohman is strong once more.”
She took two more strides, gathering confidence, her pale pink eyes growing stronger as they peered around, looking beyond Lonnie to the others. Despite her bloody visage, Lonnie marveled at how much she resembled their mother. So slight of form, not even very willowy or tall, yet full of some eye-drawing qualities that were both terrifying and beautiful.
And the runes rippling across her skin. Would he be able to stop her?
“I see you have the other traitors with you. Selix, and those filthy whorchals.”
“Fuck you.” Elsa sneered, edging forward.
Ingrid threw an arm out to keep her from charging.
Makare wiped one glistening hand across a rune on her bare stomach, and the symbol bulged with power, a circle of pink that spun and gathered in Makare's palm. "I'll get to the rest of you after I deal with my brother."
She lifted the ball of energy, preparing to direct it toward Lonnie.
He crouched, bracing, switching hands to draw a defensive rune on his left. His own power pinged inside him.
Before Makare could attack, Selix rushed from behind him, making a dash for Gruff's corpse. She fell to her knees, searching the air for something.
A line of pale energy appeared, crackling and shimmering in her hands.
The tether.
Makare altered her target and released her magic at Selix. It struck her in a whirlwind of sparks and fire and Selix flew into the wall, rolling away from the old man’s bloody remains. Crash swooped in, getting his hands beneath her arms and dragging her back as the remnants of electric current dissolved.
“You’ll not sever my tether, dragon voice." Makare's eyes tracked the retreating pair, her voice a hiss. “You don’t have the teeth for it.” She shifted her attention to Lonnie, gathering another ball of magic from her middle and hurling it.
Lonnie threw out his fist and met the energy, clenching his shoulders to shear the attack in two. His knuckles burned, forearms quaking as he held ground. Still, the sustained force shoved him a half dozen yards down the hall. He remained on his feet, but damn.
Makare came on, fingertips tracing the runes along her side.
Before she could get off another shot, Lonnie countered, thrusting his fist forward. Light streaked across the space, blasting his sister in the gut, causing her to double over and gasp.
Lonnie flashed her a wicked grin fueled by revenge for his mother’s death. Revenge for that and so much more.
Makare grimaced, teeth bared. She made a fluid gesture with her hands, tracing and throwing energy in one motion. This time it caught Lonnie in the knees, staggering him, confidence fleeing as pain shot through his hips.
Makare reached out, clutching, wrapping him in an invisible fist. “Now, come.”
Lonnie staggered forward, unable to resist although he fought with all his strength. But he was unpracticed, weak, his own runecraft just a whisper compared to his sister's. He didn’t know the right motions, the right gestures. Even at his strongest, Makare’s experience was too great.
Gunshots blasted his doubts to pieces, tiny red spots popping up all over Makare’s body. One in her shoulder, one in her hip, another between her ribs, five or six total. And each time one hit, she jerked, the fierceness in her eyes diminishing by fractions, tears streaking her cheeks until her expression was sheer agony.
He glanced Bess over by the wall near Gruff, pistol raised and bringing the lead.
Makare moaned, bending double in pain.
Crash's big arms wrapped around Lonnie’s chest and ripped him free of Makare’s grip, drawing a cry of surprised anger from her.
Makare straightened, reeled, and wove her hands, sending a pulse of energy Bess's way. The 'Venger struck the wall like a truck had hit her, causing her to sink to the floor, gun falling with a clatter.
But then Ingrid’s spear flew in, taking Makare in the gut and driving her back. His sister stumbled, clutching at the thing protruding from her. Her eyes turned on the gang, passed over each of them in quick succession, nostrils flaring as she swelled with power. She brushed a hand over her forearm and waved it across the lot of them, churning up a hurricane wind that sent them tumbling backwards.
When Lonnie was done rolling, he stood. Shook his head. Breathed in a nose full of dust. He found Elsa laying in a heap ten or twelve yards behind him and helped her up, then rounded on his sister.
Makare yanked Ingrid’s spear from her stomach, dropping it with a clatter to the stones, clutching the bleeding wound.
Her eyes found Lonnie, smiled at him with bloody teeth. “Oh, very good, brother. Not the hopeless little boy who lost so many trap games against me.”
“No. I’m the son who is going to avenge his mother.”
Makare snickered. Spoke over the still blowing winds. “That’s where you’re wrong. You’re weak, like her. And you’ll die like her, too. You know, I didn’t think I wanted to come here. I didn’t think I wanted this anymore. This reunion. I thought I’d forgotten you. But, I didn’t. Not in my heart. You're a lingering sickness. And your death will gladen me. I’m glad for this, brother.”
With
a wave of her arms, Makare gathered a whirlwind of dust and leaking river water into a storm. The sound grew deafening as she came ahead, lost in the churn of violence.
“Let’s do this, Lonnie,” Crash bellowed over the noise, stepping to Lonnie's side. “Let’s take her out.”
Lonnie glanced back. The others had recovered from the hurricane blast and prepared for another rush. Elsa, hair frazzled and bleeding from her eyes. Ingrid and Selix looking weary but ready.
Bess was trapped behind his sister, behind the storm.
"Distract her," Selix shouted. "I'll go for the tether."
"How do we get through that?" Lonnie had to scream to be heard.
“Stay behind me.” Crash took a position in front of Lonnie, crouching.
Lonnie threw his hand on the big man’s shoulder.
Elsa clutched the other shoulder.
The others gathered behind them.
Crash let out a low, bawling cry and rushed forward. Slammed into the tornado of debris and charged air. It was like hitting a brick wall, or a razor wall, and Lonnie and Elsa plowed into him, pushing him into the churn. Eyes closed, turning his head aside to avoid losing them, Lonnie brushed his left hand along his arm, channeling magic, shoving Crash ahead. The bull of a man cried out, his dreadlocks and scalp sloughed off and whipping against Lonnie’s face in a bloody spray. But he lowered his shoulders, pumped his legs, and burst through enough to snatch Makare, catching one of her arms.
There was a snap of leathery wings and Lonnie glanced to see Elsa rising off the floor, the old Civil War sword sliding over Crash’s shoulder to bite at Makare.
His sister yowled, but the winds continued, and before Elsa could get her feet on the ground again, before she could curl her wings, a tailwind tossed her.
Makare and Crash struggled back and forth, the big man trying to hang on to her while being cut to pieces.
His sister inside the maelstrom, smiling a pained smile. A controlled smile. Her breasts were covered in blood, nipples hard and goose bumped from the electric runes playing across her flesh. The shiny sword was lodged between her ribs, just below her right breast. Crash had pulled her arm out of its socket, her shoulder looking skewed and cocked funny. But his was a bloody mess, too, all sliced skin and exposed muscle.
It wouldn’t be long before Crash lost that arm, and then Makare would be unstoppable.
Lonnie snatched the sword hilt and pushed it further in. Twisted it and sawed. With a pained cry, Makare's wind surged, carrying the death-gripped combatants across the wide hall to tear pieces of old brick and mortar clean away from the wall.
Lonnie held on to Crash, but nearly lost hold when they hit the bricks, breath knocked out of him and head dazed. They changed direction, tripping and falling together, slamming into the opposite wall. Lonnie let go, scatter-brained, and fell.
Crash staggered by, trailing blood.
Makare surged forward, arms spread wide to give him a deadly embrace.
Then her wind sputtered and died. Picked up again. Hitched and flickered.
She spun, rage twisting her features.
Ingrid, Selix, and Bess had gathered around Gruff's corpse. Selix knelt, holding the looping tether energy which glowed a deep pink streaked with white lightning. There were points along the line that appeared stronger, while others thinned. Selix knelt before one of those weaker points, hands smoking where she touched it.
Lonnie knew little about tethercraft, but those lines glowed dangerous. He imagined grabbing a tether was akin to grabbing a fifty thousand watt power line.
Heart sinking, and driven by desperation, Lonnie clapped his hands together, drawing a rune and charging his arm with magic.
He charged. Struck the whirling storm, reaching for Makare. A hundred pins lanced him to the bone.
Makare gestured and Lonnie flew away.
From the floor between spurts of light and rushing wind, Lonnie caught sight of Selix clasping the line. No, not exactly Selix. Her hands were now claws and red-black scale. Head, an amalgam of dragon and human, stretched out, maw clamped on the shivering, pulsing tether. Her body rippled with muscle, thin haunches, talons spread apart as she balanced.
Makare flew across the space, a whirlwind of motion and sound, yet her power came in fits and spurts, like a shorted electrical cable. Ingrid charged. Slammed against Makare. Drove her back a few feet in an onslaught of teeth and fists.
The tether line surged again and Makare swiped with long nails at the whorchal, sending her rolling away with the flesh of her cheek peeled off.
Bess was the only person left standing between Selix and the raging goddess. She stood with her feet planted, cross raised in one hand and shouting into the approaching gale. Some verse from her Bible commanding the demon to stop and to return whence it came. Her eyes bore into Makare, the tendons in her neck straining as she tried to shout over the din.
Lonnie caught pieces of it.
“…Lord said to Satan, ‘Where have you come from?’…”
“…roaming throughout the earth…”
“The Lord rebuke you, Satan…”
Any other time, Lonnie would have laughed himself to tears. Might as well piss into Makare's wind for all the good Bess's words would do. Makare strained to move forward, but could not. Some spell holding her back. She turned her head to the side, glaring at Bess through the whipping winds. She reached out and made a snatching motion with her hand, clutching Bess’s throat by invisible force, choking off her words.
And then Bess flew past Selix to slam into the wall hard enough to make Lonnie wince through his own pain. That was the second time she’d taken such a shot. A third and she'd be dead.
Lonnie stood on wobbly legs. He limped forward, patting himself for a knife he didn’t have. And then a sound, like the squeal of a train braking, drown out the wind. Lonnie clutched his ears, eyes shifting to find Selix. The dragon voice, now more beast than human, pulled the tether between her dragon teeth, lifting her head and twisting, stretching it until it snapped.
Residual power burst from the cut ends, splitting and crackling through the air, igniting in tendrils of luminescent smoke and sparks in a hot flash. Selix flew backwards. Lonnie cried out as the wave hit him, knocking him to the hard stone where his head slapped back.
The whirlwind noise died, like someone had switched off the world.
Lonnie fought to stay conscious, resisted the crushing darkness. Might have gone under if it weren’t for a seepage of water squeezing between the stones above and tinkling on his face.
He sputtered. Wiped his eyes. Half slapped himself in the process. But he was awake, getting to his elbows and having a look around. Puddles formed as weak spots in the wall burst. He splashed around trying to stand. That old river water smell returned stronger than ever, and he could hardly see a damn thing in the mossy green glow and smoke, the room once again starved for light.
Moans reached his ears.
“Selix? Crash? Bess?”
A bright beam struck the ceiling.
“Here,” Bess said, and shoved the flashlight into Lonnie’s stomach.
She looked like hell. Eyes wide with exhaustion, bruises around her neck.
“Thanks.” Lonnie aimed the light through a curtain of rain, peering hard to find Selix.
And where was his fucking sister? Would she have returned to Xester after the tether snapped? How could she have? Without the tether, or something to channel her power, she'd be weak. Trapped.
The flashlight caught a glint of skin. Two frail, quivering legs, knees knocking together. The light rose to expose the rest of Makare, arms hugging herself, teeth chattering, eyes pink and fearful where they shone in her illuminated face.
Lonnie stalked forward.
Makare stumbled back.
The fear in her eyes was real and quite satisfying.
“Brother.” Her voice was small and weak.
Lonnie cocked his arm. Balled his fist tight.
“Lonnie!” It was B
ess.
Lonnie stopped, eyelids lowering as he seethed.
"I understand how you must feel, man. She did some horrible things. Things that shouldn't be forgiven. She’s doesn’t deserve a break, but that doesn’t mean you can’t show her some compassion. We won. You, won. Her fate is in God’s hands. And this place is flooding fast. We need to go."
Lonnie thought about Bess's words. They made sense. Hell, it was something his mother would have said. Taking the high road was the hardest path, and he knew the rewards could be great. But Makare’s wrongs went too far and too deep. They’d been a soul crushing burden all these years. Not just for him, but for countless others who’d paid the price for Makare’s power.
And one who truly mattered the most.
Lonnie shook his head. “No, this one’s for mother.” And he threw his punch. Connected with his sister’s jaw so hard that the blow sent her reeling to the floor, a goddess no more.
Chapter 30
Lonnie knelt next to Selix, lifting her head to get her out of the worst of the flooding. The left side of her face was bruised, the front of her mouth bloody from a cut on her lip. He gently inspected the flesh. Her gums were bleeding, charred marks from chomping on the tether.
He noticed the hypodermic needle still sticking in a vein in her right arm.
“Damn, Selix. Shit.” He hugged her close, listening for her breathing. Her heart beat, but faintly. Her warm breath touched his cheek. “Hey,” he said, pulling the needle free and dropping it to the stone.
When she didn’t respond, he dipped his fingers in a nearby puddle and sprinkled it on her face. Her mouth and nose crinkled and she turned away.
Hopes lifting, Lonnie laughed. He released the breath he’d been holding. “Sounds like you’re still in there.”
Selix sputtered, rolled back to him, and nodded.
She opened her eyes and Lonnie did a damn good job of not wincing, of not jerking away and dropping her to the stones. Her once blue eyes were tinged the color of ash with red irises.
