Call Your Steel

by G. D. Penman

  Kaius stopped with blood smeared around his twisted maw and snarled, “Now you are monsters.”

  Then he fell on Vulkas again with his teeth gnashing and talons rending.

  The Chosen fell from Lucia's bleeding hide. Their weapons were gone. Their armour, gone. All their strength and speed had turned to nothing. Lucia moved like a serpent in a nest of baby mice, snapping at the naked little prey all around her, hissing. The Beloved was dead, the Chosen were broken, and there was a dragon behind their ranks. Vulkas' army threw down their weapons and Lucia still had the conscience left to wail, “Leave them! It is over.”

  She struggled to get all four of her legs beneath her. By the time she was standing, there was a wide circle of soldiers around her, both hers and the enemy.

  She shouted out, “All people are my people now. You are now all friends. I will see you all act as friends. Those of you who want to go back to your mines. Go. Those that wish to live in the city, stay and be welcome. But know this, war is over. Killing is over. You will all live in peace from this day forward.”

  She looked around at the gathered crowd, all standing silent, and she barked, “This is my will. Now make it yours.”

  Then she coiled up on herself and tried to feign sleep as she constructed the weaving that would put her new flesh back together. She wishing bitterly that there was so simple a balm for her mind.

  Chapter 22- The Needing of Things

  Lucia may have been carried off bleeding to recuperate by the most trustworthy of the nobles. The battlefield may have been scattered with the bodies of soldiers from both sides. But the fanatically loyal ghuls had suffered the worse. They had been trampled underfoot by both sides. Their village lay empty, the few children and elders that had survived the fighting by luck alone had been ushered into the city at last. They disappeared cleanly into the mess of refugees that were seeking employment and homes in a clamour at the gates of every noble estate.

  Metharia had not left Lucia's side since she had been brought back to the tower. She was too large to carry up the countless flights of stairs, even if weight was not a concern, so they settled her into a courtyard in the sunshine and Metharia held whispered court in the corridor outside. She hissed out the closest approximation of Lucia's orders as best she could, but everyone saw the concern on her face. The way she kept darting out of the door to check on Lucia.

  Nobody could say that she did not care for the Eater. Nobody would dare to say that she had deliberately put Lucia in harm's way when she so obviously cared for her. If there was not so much to do, Metharia would have paused to congratulate herself on so complete a deception. It wasn’t hard to like Lucia. She had an easy charm to her and her idealism was infectious. It was a shame that Lucia had not been born into a world where her faith in the good qualities of others was justified.

  The city regiments had started claiming pay even though many of them had been little more than a farce on the battlefield. It was with a great deal of childish glee that Metharia denied them that pay. Listing off their failings and denying any one of their representatives the possibility that they had served their purpose.

  They saw the worried glances and fretting and they assumed that this anger would pass when Lucia had recovered so they retreated peacefully enough. Night was creeping up on Metharia before she heard Lucia calling to her. She snatched the last letter from a harried courier and dismissed the remaining nobles before dashing out.

  At some point through the day it had rained without anyone inside the tower noticing. It had pooled in the hollows of the flagstones and was rising as steam all around Lucia's coiled form now that she was stirring back to life. Metharia's slender fingers stroked over the armoured scales of Lucia's hide, soothing her and seeking the injuries between the hard plates. She found nothing, even amidst the worst of the bloodstains. Lucia snickered, “Not a mark on me little one. We are hard to kill”

  Her head lolled over the top of her body and her many eyes narrowed on Metharia, “But someone has. First Ochress, now Vulkas. Both snuffed out.”

  Metharia met the gaze, unflinching and did not even try to dispute what she had suspected all along. “First Negrath, then Walpurgan, now Ochress and Vulkas. Perhaps you showed their vulnerability and old grudges are finally being paid?”

  Lucia's narrow head bobbed along to the rhythm of the words, but shook it at the end, “Negrath and Walpurgan, we know the killer. Do we guess it was the same one who killed Ochress and Vulkas? Am I the next target? I am the last. The last Eater.”

  Metharia stepped forward and cupped Lucia's weaving head between her hands, her voice overflowed with passion when she spat, “Kaius is nothing without you.”

  Lucia stared at her for an uncomfortably long moment. At Metharia's request she had never been made Marked, Chosen or Beloved, but she had a horrible suspicion now that Lucia could still sift through her thoughts.

  Eventually Lucia spoke. “If that man had nothing but the clothes on his back and he was standing in a room full of my Marked, I would give them even odds in a fight. From nothing, he crushed all three of the armies that threatened me. You would be foolish not to be at least a little frightened of him. If anyone was capable of this...”

  She sniffed, then her eyes turned to the ash stained parchment in Metharia's hand, “What is that?”

  More than half dazed Metharia slowly came to realise that she was holding something. She lifted it up and said, “Just a message.”

  Lucia cocked her head and Metharia shook off the worst of the effects from that inquisitive gaze. She unrolled it and nearly spat in frustration before she could bring her face back into its tranquil mask. Lucia asked, “Well what is it?”

  Metharia spoke through grit teeth, “It is from him. It is a letter from Kaius.”

  Lucia tried to contain her amusement. Despite all of the worry, this funny little jealous streak was almost as good as catching Metharia sleeping. “And what does it say?”

  Metharia did not trust herself to speak, she just held the letter up for Lucia, who cocked her head from side to side, trying to find the best way to read with her new eyes. It occurred to her that she had never seen Kaius' handwriting. Under the old order most commands were spoken, generally in hushed tones, in dark places.

  If she had to guess how Kaius would write, this would be it. Every letter laid out with painful precision, as if any mistake would meet punishment.

  Beloved,

  I have done for you all that you needed but would not ask for. I have removed all opposition to your rule, and I have won all of your battles. I do not ask for rewards or applause. All that I would ask is that we talk again. For all of my life before we met I was alone and I considered that state to be the best one but after our short time together I find myself missing your company.

  I will come to your city in a few cycles time. I have learned much of your new state in my travels, and I feel that you may welcome my advice once more. If you do not want me in your life or your court then you can send me away as you did before. Or you can choose to have me snuffed out as you see fit. If you simply wish my exile, then you can choose the location that I will be sent, so that if you require me in the future I will still be available to you.

  In your name,

  Kaius

  Metharia stared at Lucia's indecipherable face as she read the letter and thought she saw contemplation. She snapped, “You must send him away. He cannot be trusted.”

  Lucia said nothing. She just stared at the parchment as Metharia crumpled it up in her hands. Metharia spat, “You said it yourself, he is dangerous. He is a killer.”

  Lucia drew away from her. “And what am I now? I killed that man. I crushed... I... When I had the choice to die or to kill, I made that choice. Kaius just made his choice faster.”

  Metharia was shouting now. Se did not know when her placid mask had fallen away. “You can't be serious! He must be driven off or he must die. You cannot suffer him within this city. You cannot have him here. He wi
ll undo all of the hard work that we have done. He will...”

  Lucia turned her back on Metharia, and settled down in a coil once again. “I am resting now. I will think about it.”

  Metharia had lived for a long time in the court of the nobles, she knew a snub when she heard it. She had the good grace to leave quietly instead of making a scene. In the corridor, she looked at the little desk she had set up. She looked down at the simple robes she was wearing. Then she reached over to the table and pinched out the candle stub still burning there, surrounding herself with darkness and drinking it in.

  The days passed in silence. Metharia would not talk to Lucia. The nobles had learned of their behaviour and every petty matter came directly before the Eater rather than risk having the it become the source of another dispute. Metharia did not have her own room. She had stayed in the chambers of the Beloved for nearly as long as Lucia had ruled. Servants, and the gradually returning Chosen reported that Metharia was still in the tower to Lucia with such regularity that it made her wonder if she had forgotten requesting the information.

  Metharia was in the kitchens making herself a snack. She was in the library catching up on her reading. Lucia's thoughts were back in turmoil. She tended to the city's needs with casual disinterest. She curbed the nobles ambitions with ease byt settling the refugees from the other lands was becoming a full time endeavour.

  The bravest of the foreign nobles had started to make their own appeals for her assistance in retaking their family lands, in her name of course. Although the winter stockpile of supplies in the city were depleting at a rapid pace, she held off on releasing these nobles back into the wild until they had learned the way things were done in the city. Until she was certain that they were ready to rebuild things in the correct way, in her image. Ego was a part of being on the stage and, until now it had always been a comfortable enough coat for Lucia to slip on and shrug off as required.

  Now she could not back away from conflict. She could not mask her intentions because everything that she did and everything that she was remained on display in the silver of her scales and the spread of her wings. There was no going back from this. No way to slip back into obscurity. She had hoped that it wasn't changing her on the inside but now there were dead men on her conscience and she found that she could not only live with it, she felt justified. She was remaking the world, what were a few corpses left by the wayside when compared to that?

  On the third day after the battle, when boredom began to overtake her she climbed up the side of the tower and looked out over the fields. Without the ghuls’ predation this conflict was taking much longer to clean up, in no small part because the organisers were the nobles. If the job had been given to a commoner or a soldier the whole place would be clear in a day and everything resembling a valuable would have been for sale in the city. As it was, there were mounds of corpses by the roadside, putting off trade and sickening the farmers as they returned to their work after seeking shelter.

  Lucia put her newly stitched wings to the test and found them to be passable. She swept low over each corpse mound and set them alight in one pass. It was time to get the world back in order. The sky was thick with clouds so she stayed low, enjoying the gentle patter of rain on her scales. There were few enough travellers, but if she was honest she had been keeping her eyes open for this one. With her new eyes, he shone as bright as the sun. She landed with a stagger on the road, cursing her clumsiness, and faced him.

  Kaius was not much changed in his time away from her. His robes were gone, replaced with a merchant's simple trousers and a vest of leather. His scars were gone, every mark of the life of violence was erased from his skin. He had even regrown his hair. It was fine, black and straight. He had it tied in a high ponytail to keep his face clear. She had supposed that her appearance would probably be a surprise, but he did not even seem startled. He started to bow before her, but in some rush of emotion he crossed the distance between them and reached out to her. She was skittish and leaned away from his touch, but after a moment of looking at the adoration in his eyes, she leaned into it and let him run his hand along the side of her neck. He whispered, “You are magnificent.”

  She could not blush with her new skin but a shiver ran down her at his words. She asked, “How are you not more changed? I know that you must have eaten Walpurgan's heart and you must have been drawing power all year to have done what you did.”

  He sighed and removed his hand. “Walpurgan's gifts were many. I am able to control my appearance. I could take on your form if you wished. Or I could teach you how to return yourself to that singing girl with the silly hair, if you would like.”

  She paused, “You could do that?”

  He smiled, “I can do much more for you. I have learned much of the history of the Eaters in my travels. I have learned where they came from. I have learned how much we can accomplish. Walpurgan could see the parts that make up the world, she could see through the other Eater's constructs to their core. I have inherited her gifts, but they can be taught, just as she taught the other Eaters to hone theirs.”

  It was all so tempting. She was immediately suspicious and voiced it without pause, “Why did you do this? Why did you learn these things? Why did you kill the other Eaters? What is in it for you?”

  His eyes were wide as she spread her wings and rose to her full height, looming over him, “Because I knew that you needed these things. I knew that nobody else could give them to you. I am yours to command, even now. Please do not send me away when you need all of the gifts that I have brought you.”

  She backed away from him with an edge of disdain in her crackling voice. “So it is just like before? You decide that someone needs to die. You decide what I need.”

  He stalked closer as she backed away another step, “There are no more that need to die for you to be safe. I am done.”

  She lunged down towards him hissing, “And what happens when you decide that the next person is a threat?”

  He shook his head, “The Eaters are gone Lucia. You are all that is left.”

  They both stopped and turned. Wild laughter was rolling out from the city gates. The rain grew heavier and thunder tolled overhead. Metharia walked out of the city, dressed up in Valerius’ old cream and gold robes. She was cackling. Kaius saw her and froze.

  Lucia sprang around to face her, leaving Kaius at her back without a moment's worry. Lucia spoke to her in a low voice, “Metharia. We are just talking. This does not concern you.”

  Metharia rolled her eyes and sneered, “No Lucia. This does not concern you. I have been waiting for a year. Putting up with your whining and idiocy. Now shut your maw before I shut it for you.”

  There was a crash of thunder and Metharia jerked her arm out at Kaius. A blinding bright line of lightning flashed out. It was only with a burst of called speed that he was able to avoid it. He shouted, “Lucia, fly away!”

  Another flurry of lightning bolts exploded the charred earth around him. He was forced to dodge and leap for safety. Metharia's laughter grew and grew until it was a coarse and raking sound.

  Lucia spread her wings and tried to block Kaius from sight even as she screamed in vain to be heard over Metharia and her storm.

  Metharia stopped her onslaught as Kaius slid to a halt, panting. Finally, Lucia could be heard. “What have you done Metharia? How can you use this power?”

  Metharia snarled at her, “Shut up, you worthless slug. I was the natural inheritor of Negrath. Hiding it from an idiot was so simple. All I had to do was stay in the light and act human. After enduring your pawing and prattling for all this time you have finally given me my heart's desire. You have given me a way to take the only thing that Kaius has ever wanted away from him.”

  Both of her arms whipped forward again and a crackling blast of elemental fury burst from her fingertips, arching out towards Lucia too fast for human eyes to follow. But not too fast for Kaius.

  He had called his steel into a smooth suit of armour and a rou
nded shield. He launched himself between the dragon and the madwoman. The lightning struck through the shield and danced across the armour. He fell, blackened, to the ground, back arching. A guttural scream burst from between his lips. Lucia tripped over her own legs stumbling away from him. Metharia chortled, “Oh ho. Kaius. Caring? I didn't know you had it in you.”

  The molten slag of Kaius’ armour fell away in a shower. His body pulsed and swelled. His fingers cracked apart and curved talons emerged. His back slit open and a row of mineral spikes jutted out. Everywhere that his blackened skin cracked, a dull green glow emitted.

  The features of his face melted away until there was only smooth flesh that snapped open along a vertical slit, revealing dozens of rows of razor sharp teeth. From inside that gaping mouth a grating, warbling, nightmare voice shrieked out, “You don't know what I have in me.”

  Chapter 23- The War of the Monsters

  Before Kaius’ transformation was complete, Metharia was already readying more lightning. It crackled between her fingers but vanished as she had to duck away from a gout of fire from Lucia. Kaius twisted his torso so that the hole that had been his head faced towards Lucia and he snarled, “Get away. Fly!”

  He glanced away from her just long enough to send out a crude lash of wind to knock Metharia from her feet. He snapped again, “I do not matter. Your people need you. The world needs you. I am a relic. Fly!”

  He called air beneath Lucia’s wings and flung her up, whipping head over tail into the sky.

  The next bolt of lightning from Metharia deflected away from him after striking a sudden outcropping of rock. Metharia leapt over it with electricity trailing from her fingers and fell promptly into a pit that had just opened on the other side. With a disgusted flick of his head, Kaius drew the top of the hole shut over her.