“I do. Have you ever… fought out here?” I ask him, and he nods again.
“I spent years here, learning to channel my rage, control my inner demon. In fact, I probably spent more than two decades in this crap heap,” he sighs out, and I wonder how it is he’s not traumatised, or permanently paranoid. Even from this distance, the scent of blood and metal is thick in the air, and the din of clashing swords and the smashing of claws and teeth against armour is loud beyond what I can bear.
The cart comes to a halt only a few hundred metres from the wall, for what I assume is the security of the horses. The sinners depart first as I continue to gawp around, unable to take in the magnitude of the event before me, before Xion grabs my hand and pulls me along behind him.
Stepping down onto the ground, the ash is thicker here, and I note that the fall of it from the sky is heavier too. The wind whips around me, and I feel a chill grip at my bones.
Wonderful. I cuss, wondering if getting out of the pyramid for some utterly stale air was in fact the best idea.
“Come on, let’s go toward the edge; that way, we can find a few strays to practice on,” Xion suggests, moving through the sinners who are drawing swords from their belts and pulling shields off their backs. I feel slightly naked without a weapon of any kind, but then I remember that I am a weapon. Xion pulls out the familiar looking twisted obsidian knife from the back of his dark jeans as we move across the wasteland in silence, and as I stare at it, I can’t help but feel a little underwhelmed.
Well, at least he’s not compensating for anything. I think, wondering if he shouldn’t have brought maybe a sword… or a bazooka.
Unnerved by the battle taking place, not a mile to the north of where we’re trekking along the length of the wall, I can’t think of anything to say that isn’t laced with my own fears, so we move on in silence.
After what feels like forever, we reach a point far left of where the main fighting is taking place. I’m worried we’re too far away, but Xion stiffens momentarily in posture at my side almost immediately, and I know he’s sensing demons approaching fast.
“They can sense your power. Prepare yourself,” he warns me, and so I grit my teeth, using my fear to ignite a ball of flame in my palm. I hold it up, squinting into the grey fog caused by the smear of falling ash, heart beginning to race. Xion widens his stance beside me, his long leather coat blowing around him as the wind ruffles his dark hair and we stare out into the waste together.
The first demons approach, moving faster than I remember, they’re Banshee, and I have flashbacks to the first time I’d seen one. To the way it’d screamed and smashed all the mirrors in my old ballet studio, to the way I’d broken its neck with my bare hands.
“Ready?” Xion asks as their tread becomes audible, pounding, muted, amongst the ash strewn ground, in my ears, as they grow closer and closer.
“Ready,” I reply, widening my stance and preparing.
Come on you skanky ass dogs. I curse under my breath, riling myself for the fight, for the struggle.
The three Banshee are about to reach us, but before they do, I take out one by hitting it with a ball of flame. It whimpers, falling to the ground and catching alight, clearly weaker than the one I’d fought before.
A second Banshee flies over the body of its packmate, soaring through the air, nine-inch claws outstretched and aiming for my throat. It knocks me back, and as I fall to the ground, not ready for the impact, ash flies up around us in a spectacular cloud of dove grey. I remember the weight of Cerb hitting me in a similar but much less lethal way, and so bring up my arms, shielding my face and holding back the head of the demon as I focus, recalling the funky rhythm of You give love a bad name in my head.
Snapping jaws come within inches of my face, but after only a few seconds, I’ve convected from beneath the body of the beast and am extending out a leash of fire, wrapping the burning flame around the Banshee’s neck from behind. I yank so hard that the beast falls to the floor in a heap before burning into ash, which blows away, inconspicuous amongst the blanketed landscape around us.
I turn to find the other beast under Xion’s knee, its neck thick, and yet no match for him even in mortal form. He gestures for me to assist, ending the creature, so I throw my arm round in the air like I’m bowling, hitting the incapacitated demon straight between the eyes with a perfect sphere of scorching fire.
Exhaling, he looks to me with a smile.
“Very nice.”
I’m out of breath, my heart pounding and my adrenaline pumping in my veins, it’s almost like I was made for this. Like fighting demons is what I’ve been missing all along.
“Who’s up next?” I question, widening my stance and readying to fight whatever the waste throws at me next.
We’ve killed a good amount of demons by the time I find myself getting fatigued. It’s been a constant ballet of fireballs arcing through the sky, the breaking of bones and the blocking out of dying screams. Xion and I work well together as a team, but as I finish off a particularly long-legged Phobia, who is attempting to try and out manoeuvre me, Xion’s eyes catch mine, and his gaze travels behind me.
“Sephy, behind you! Watch out!” I spin, finding a demon I’ve never seen before, towering over me. It’s ghostly white with glowing red eyes, gangly arms and legs, and razor-sharp teeth that could be as long as ten inches. It’s like a vampire has bitten that creepy slender man from the horror stories I’d heard as a child, and I feel sick as I look up at it, dumbstruck.
Ew. Someone fetch this thing a paper bag, it’s burning my eyes! Is all I have time to fathom as it moves closer.
I hadn’t expected the demons to come at me from behind. Enemies never do that in movies; they only ever come from where the fighter can see them…
“Sephy, watch out!” Xion’s voice repeats his previous sentiment, as though he thinks I haven’t heard him. I can understand why as I’m rooted to the spot, examining the thing with morbid fascination.
The demon pulls back a long thin arm and brings it down. It’s aiming for my face, but I raise an arm at the last minute so the long knife-like nails of the beast slash through the leather of my jacket, my hoody and then the flesh of my forearm instead. I cry out, falling back again to the ground and gritting my teeth after, trying to focus in spite of the pain as the unspecified demon moves toward me too fast.
I crawl back in the dirt, feeling the ash cool among my fingers. My arm is bleeding, and as I try to raise a hand to summon a flame, defending myself, I’m eclipsed as a dark shadow puts itself between me and harm’s way.
I watch as Xion transforms, skin rippling from white to black, glowing as it is mapped with orange swirling tattoos. Within seconds the demon is dead, having been slashed to pieces viciously by Xion’s obsidian blade.
Exhaling, I feel the wind pick up, slowly getting to my feet and using my uninjured arm to summon yet another flame, this time directing it to the crumpled body on the floor, destroying the demon once and for all.
“What was that?” I exclaim, and Xion turns to me, looking down into my wide eyes with his own, which are entirely black except with glowing orange pupils.
“A Succubi,” he grumbles, demonic voice too deep. It causes a shudder to run through me as I step toward him, placing a hand upon his cheek and feeling the roughness of his flesh. He doesn’t flinch away this time but merely stands, muscles pulsating and breathing ragged as I examine him with fascination. His alien pupils scan me, concern filling them in spite of their unnerving colour. I reach up, letting the skin of my entire palm blaze hot. I temper my rage, bringing it up to his face and letting the blaze illuminate his skin. As The Eternal Flame lightens his charred flesh, it ripples, returning to that of a man in part. He inhales deeply as his orange eyes turn back to bronze, and his skin is tinged red by the sky above.
“What… what are you doing?” he sounds broken as his voice changes from demonic to human and back again.
“I don’t know. I just had this hunch. G
uess I was right,” I express as he reaches up to touch the patch of skin that is now olive flesh once more. He sighs out.
“You… you made the demon part of me…” he is almost speechless and I smile, pleased with myself.
“Recede… I guess,” I shrug, letting my hand drop. As it does, his demon form completely dissolves back within his skin, leaving him as the man I’ve come to know as my friend.
“Thanks for taking care of that,” I sigh, frustrated that once again I’d been bested but grateful he’d been there as I nod towards the dead demon on the floor.
“It’s my job,” he replies, turning from me and cutting off the conversation. “We should get back; you’re hurt.” He gestures to my arm, which is leaking blood that drips down my arm and off my fingertips, staining the ground scarlet.
I guess playtime is over.
When we get back to our rooms in The Icon, a disapproving and divine stare is waiting for us.
“So nice of you to return. Where have you been might I ask?” Anubis’ disapproving tone seeps through the air like noxious gas. My arm is throbbing, blood still leaking from the gash caused by the Succubi.
“We went out to the Ashen Waste, to train,” I reply, and Anubis’ expression turns incredulous.
“That’s absurd. Why would anyone being hunted by demons actively seek them out?” she asks me, and I shrug.
“Maybe I’m just not all that afraid anymore,” I retort, coming across braver than I feel.
“I see you are not without some consequence,” she gestures to my arm, and I roll my eyes.
“You know, I’m pretty sick of people treating me like some kind of a pet. You can’t just stick me in a cage for my own damn protection and expect me to just sit inside. I’m a demi-goddess, and I need to keep using my powers. Haedes told me that,” I argue with her, the flickering light of The Eternal Flame sconces making her look dangerous as her dark eyes flash, and her high cheekbones are cast in shadow, making them appear sharp as razor blades.
“Well, I’m sure Haedes had your safety at the top of his priority list.” She’s being sarcastic, but before I can get into a full-on shouting match with her, Xion interjects.
“Just drop it, Anubis, it’s done now. And she’s fine. Now, what can I do for you?” he demands, looking equally as irritated as I am at her intrusion.
“I wanted to invite you to dinner. I left you both something to wear in your rooms. We’ll eat in an hour,” she decrees, and so I nod, entirely not looking forward to more dead anatomy lessons with Osiris.
“I’d love to, thanks,” I call after her in a fake happy voice as she’s already turned and begun to stalk back towards wherever it is she’s headed.
“You shouldn’t anger her, Sephy. She’s…” he begins, but I cock an eyebrow.
“A bitch?” I ask, and he smirks.
“Giving us her hospitality,” he corrects me. I sigh out.
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“We best get ready for dinner. Are you alright with dressing that wound? There are bandages and stuff in your backpack,” he informs me, and I feel a little violated knowing he’s been through my stuff.
“I know there is, I packed them. And you know you really shouldn’t worry so much. After all, I’m a demi-goddess right?” I remind him, and he nods.
“That would be correct,” he acknowledges.
“Then you should know by now that I can look after myself,” I bite out, pushing him even further away. The way in which he so readily jumped to my aid before scares me. The way his expression fills with fear when I’m hurt or scare also frightens me. He’s too close; pushing in on the walls I’ve worked so hard to keep strong all these years.
“Alright then,” he breathes in a whisper, turning from me and putting his door between us.
Chapter Twenty Three
Walk Like An Egyptian
SEPHY
I look at myself in the mirror, impressed with Anubis’ perception of my own personal tastes. The woman might be mean as a snake, but damn has she got style.
I’m wearing a high-necked black tunic, which is layered with hundreds of feather-esque leather pieces. I have tight fitting black leggings on beneath and soft black leather boots with flat soles. My hair is wild and loose around my shoulders, curling slightly as the fiery auburn twizzles down into strawberry blonde at the tips. My eyes are surrounded by provided eyeliner, which is little more than a stick of charcoal, and my lips slathered in deep plum lipstick, which had managed to survive the journey right at the bottom of my backpack. I hear a knock sound at the door and exhale, knowing that it’s Xion, and ready to get this meal over with.
Checking out my appearance with one final glance into the reflective gold of the walls, I turn on the flat heel of my boot and move to the door, which slides aside, revealing Xion on the other side.
He’s wearing a sleeveless black leather vest, the square cut making his biceps bulge against the seams of the shoulders. It’s high necked, causing his jaw to become more prominent than I’ve ever seen it. He’s wearing black leather pants and black boots to match. He stares at me as I come into view, eyes widening in approval.
“You look nice,” he compliments me, and I smile, feeling a little awkward after earlier, but trying to push on despite my attempts to distance myself from him emotionally.
“Thanks, you too… guess Anubis wanted us to look like twins or something…” I conclude, and he smirks, looking at himself.
“Yeah, this cut off sleeve thing really isn’t my style,” he sighs, and I look up at him with a cocked eyebrow. If you ask me, the cut off sleeves are very much his style, but I don’t say that. I simply try to keep a straight face, looking ahead as we travel through the endless golden labyrinth of The Icon’s interior layout.
We’re silent as we reach the dining room where we’d taken breakfast with the pair this morning, finding a more elaborate and far less casual set up this time around. The smell of cooking meat, garlic and cayenne fills the air, and I inhale deeply, not at all impressed by the aroma but knowing from experience that many delicacies taste better than they smell.
Anubis and Osiris sense our presence, but something I had not noticed before catches my eye before they have fully passed the threshold opposing us and entered the space. An enormous pendulum swings, torturously slow, behind the golden pillars that stand before a wall at the far end of the room. I wonder if it’s there for any purpose other than to make time appear as though it’s moving incredibly slowly, but then am distracted once again as Anubis coughs, causing me to turn and grace her with my full and undivided attention.
“Welcome. Please, be seated. Dinner will be served momentarily.” She gestures to the table, and so Xion and I waste no time in taking several steps forward and pulling out our seats. I position myself at the foot of the table, opposite Anubis, who sits at the head, wearing a black and gold off the shoulder gown. The seats are high-backed in gold with cobalt velvet padding and sapphires embedded into the armrests. I place my elbows upon the table, edged with a border embedded with lapis lazuli, and look down at my reflection in the gilded plate before me, decorated with intricate scarab designs around the rim. The cutlery is heavy, engraved with a pyramid on the hilt of each piece, perhaps a tribute to The Icon itself, I wonder as I move it aside to get to what's underneath. Taking the thick, woven, midnight blue napkin, which feels like papyrus from old scrolls, I open it and place it into my lap as I cross my ankles under the table and stare up to find myself under the scrutiny of all three of my fellow diners.
“Very nice… art,” I compliment them, gesturing to several hieroglyphic paintings on the wall beside me.
“I’m glad you think so. They’re a tribute to the human suffering and pain that was inflicted under my rule,” Anubis elaborates, and I press my lips together.
Well this isn’t awkward…
“So, how are you two finding The Ashen Waste?” Osiris asks us, far more interested in making conversation than his mother. I’m
grateful for the change of subject.
“It is startling to say the least. I’m lucky Xion was with me earlier… I guess I had no idea quite how many demons there are out there,” I admit, trying to come off humble, wondering if perhaps this will appease Anubis.
As servants, dressed in white cloth, twisted artfully around their bodies to give modesty, enter the room, the smell of something not entirely savoury fills the air, and then my nostrils. I wonder, as I’m trying to smile through my disgust, what exactly it is I’ve done to offend Anubis to begin with. Why is she so hostile towards me? Is it because of whom I’m related to? Or is it that she wants Xion for herself maybe? This second option seems less plausible than the first to me, especially as I lay no claim to Xion, despite what she may think.
“I’m sure you were glad to have him by your side, you two seem very close.” Osiris looks between us, and I laugh.
“We’ve been put together in a very challenging set of circumstances. I have no choice but to be close to him. He’s my guide here. I’m a stranger in a strange land so to speak,” I remind him, trying to divert the conversation.
“But surely you must have some personal feeling toward the man, I mean, he has saved your life many times over, has he not?” Anubis asks the question this time as a trolley is wheeled in through the door by a female server with pale skin and black hair, pulled back in a long braid. Her eyes startle me with their lilac depths, but I try to remain focused.
“He has. But I think if you’d ask him, he’d tell you it was more his duty than anything else,” I express, looking to Xion for aid.
“Absolutely,” he replies, and Anubis frowns as the sentiment reaches her.
“We’ve seen how you look at her, Xion. You need not conceal it.” Osiris coaxes him, and he stiffens in his seat.
The Opal Blade (The Ashen Touch Trilogy Book 1) Page 34
