by Charley Case
On the other side of the room were the five cages with the townsfolk in them. They were crying and consoling one another, but their movements were sluggish. Mila guessed the enchanted cages were sapping their energy, keeping them docile and relatively quiet.
In the center of the room, suspended from two long chains attached to the ceiling, was Heather, her body held up by the chains around her wrists. Mila could see the black metal collar around her neck, her messy black hair matted and full of leaves and twigs as if she had been dragged through the forest to get here. Standing in front of a stone altar was the black-clad redheaded witch.
She had her wand out, tracing complicated patterns in the air over the prone form of an elvish woman who was being restrained by glowing magical energies around her wrists and ankles. Behind the altar was a figure in a deep hooded robe slumped in a stone throne.
As far as statues went, it was an odd position to put the subject in, but the robe was obviously made of the same stone as the throne, or at least something strikingly similar.
“Lord Azoth! Your servant Seline has brought you another supplicant. Partake unto yourself their power that you might live again,” she screamed with a high-pitched fervor that made the hairs on Mila's neck stand on end.
There was no apparent dagger or implement of death you might find at a sacrifice, but Mila didn't want to take any chances. She checked the room quickly for any remaining Rougarou, but they were alone.
“Penny, can you free the townspeople? Melt the locks on the cages or something?”
Penny nodded. “Shee shir.”
“That’s fine I’ll cause a big enough distraction in a minute,” Mila reassured her. “Danica, stay behind me, and use me for cover. I don't want you over here out of reach. We need to stay close in case this goes badly.”
Penny flew across the room to the cages and hid in the shadows, giving them a thumbs-up to say that she was set.
“Ready,” Danica said, nocking an arrow.
Just as Mila was about to move, the elf woman on the altar began to scream as a thin line of blue light rose from her chest and wormed its way into the hood of the statue’s figure.
The statue breathed in the light, its shoulders rising and chest expanding.
“I don't think that’s a statue,” Danica whispered, an edge of fear in her voice.
Mila was frozen with horror. She had seen a wisp of light coming from someone like that before. It had been when she used the Reaper on the Dark Star and pulled out her soul in order to cleanse the darkness from it.
That thing on the throne had just consumed the elf woman’s soul.
The body still screamed and convulsed, but the pain that had been there before was gone, and now the sound was hollow, bordering on a howl. As they watched, the ribs expanded with a loud popping crunch. The arms twisted and elongated along with the legs and feet. Her face strained, and her nose and mouth began to push up into a muzzle as tufts of black and gray fur began to rapidly grow on her skin in patches.
“Fucking hell,” Danica whispered in horror.
That simple curse snapped Mila out of her daze. She raised her pistol and pulled the trigger.
Chapter Seventeen
A spear of pure raw celestial magic exploded from the barrel of the Ivar and streaked across the room, headed for Seline’s exposed back. It was a perfect shot, aimed directly at the heart.
Mila smiled; this was going to be easier than she had feared.
Her face fell, however, when from the corner of her eye, she saw the figure on the throne lift a hand and power flow from it.
A black mist formed behind the unsuspecting witch, swirling into a wall of black and purple magic. The bolt from Mila’s Ivar slammed into it, causing a shower of gold and purple sparks before both magics consumed each other, vanishing to nothingness.
Seline spun, her red pigtails flaring out from her head, her eyes wide with surprise. “My Lord!” she squeaked in surprise, her childlike voice making Mila uncomfortable with how out of place it was. “You saved your wretched servant’s life. I am beyond thankful.” Her face fell, and she grinned evilly at Mila and Danica behind her. She continued in a deeper voice, “I shall prove my worth, Lord Azoth.”
She raised her wand and shot off a ball of the dark mist, followed by another, then a third in quick secession.
Mila raised her arm just in time, her shield forming an instant before the smoking orbs slammed into it.
Mila was still feeding the shield when the first orb hit, and she was immediately thankful she was. The orb burst, splashing a black and purple viscous liquid across its golden surface and began to eat through the magical construct. The only reason the second and third orbs didn't break through was that she was continually reinforcing the magic that was being sucked away.
The effort to keep the shield up was taxing, but Mila pushed the mounting headache out of her mind and took aim with the Ivar.
She let off another shot, making the pain in her head to jump several notches as more power was demanded from her.
The bolt slammed into another wall of mist, but this one was of Seline’s making. The sudden shocking drain on her made the witch stumble back a few steps, clutching the side of her head with her free hand, to Mila's great delight.
The rattling of chains drew Mila's attention to Heather, who had spun to look at Mila. They locked eyes, and Heather’s went wide.
“You need to get out of here!” she croaked, her voice raspy and raw.
Danica let several arrows loose, making Seline have to defend herself from the incoming missiles, which she did by batting them away with unnatural speed.
“We’re here to save you and the others,” Mila said with a jerk of her head toward the cages.
Penny hovered a few feet from a large padlock holding the first cage’s door in place, blowing a concentrated jet of flame over it. The metal was glowing bright orange and beginning to droop.
Danica continued to fire arrows, but it seemed to be no more than a distraction to Seline, who raised her wand and sent out another barrage of smoking black orbs. Mila focused on the fight, missing what Heather said as the orbs slammed into her shield, drawing even more power this time.
Mila returned fire, this time sending two shots at Seline, who blocked them with a hastily constructed wall of dark magic. She didn't flinch nearly as much the second time around, instead pointing her wand at Mila and releasing a torrent of the black and purple magic at Mila's shield.
The substance clung to the shield, eating away at it faster than Mila could replenish it. Black and gold sparks flew as the two magics fought for dominance. Mila began to feel weak at the knees as her power was sucked away at a prodigious rate.
A hole appeared in the shield, dripping black magic onto her leg. There was no pain, but a sizzling black smoke rose up from the drop. Mila quickly adjusted her stance to avoid the leak and poured even more power into the shield.
She was vaguely aware of Danica firing arrows as fast as she could from behind her, but as far as Mila could tell, it wasn't doing much good. The arrows were either being evaporated in the stream of magic, or Seline was smacking them away, but it was distracting her a little.
Mila fought off the nausea that was creeping in and took a quick shot with the Ivar, this time aiming at Seline’s legs. She fired the shot from the bottom of her shield, hoping that the witch’s continual stream of black magic would block her view of the incoming bolt until it was too late.
The golden spear of magic streaked across the ground, closing the distance in a flash. Seline saw the incoming projectile, but it was too late. She cut off the flow of magic and tried to get a wall up, but the bolt slammed into her legs just below the knee and exploded in a shower of golden sparks.
Seline was thrown into the air, tumbling end over end past the throne and slamming into the wall hard enough that the lights began to sway on their long cords, making the shadows dance.
Mila lowered her shield, letting her power replen
ish. The figure on the throne hadn't moved since the beginning of the fight, but the elf woman had continued the painful transformation and was now a fully formed Rougarou. However, she was still held to the altar by the magical restraints. That didn't keep her from thrashing around and gnashing her teeth impotently.
Mila rushed to Heather, reaching out to take the shackles off.
“Don’t,” she moaned.
Mila ignored her and grabbed the cuff on Heather’s right wrist. Mila felt a pull on her power that almost made her faint after expending as much as she had in the battle.
“I told you,” Heather said, her eyes heavy. “You can't remove them without draining your power.”
Mila glanced over Heather’s shoulder and saw that Penny was on the third cage, the first two empty. Obviously, the townsfolk didn't need to be told to get the hell out of there.
“How do I save you?” Mila asked, desperation in her voice. She shook the Valkyrie when she didn't respond. “Heather! How do I free you?”
She looked into Mila's eyes. “You can't, little sister. It would take far too long. You have to take a message to Victoria. Tell her the Drude is alive. It’s coming for us all. Remember that. The Drude. Now go. You have to get out of here and get the message to the sisterhood. They will know what to do.”
“I’m not leaving you here,” Mila argued, trying to think of a way to get the shackles off but coming up empty.
“Don’t worry, little sister. I’m not as weak as I appear. I still have a few tricks up my sleeve. But your presence is draining me far too much. I need you to put distance between us before my powers are completely gone.”
Mila opened her mouth to protest, but Heather was right. Mila was too weak to break the shackles, and her presence as a Lone Valkyrie was eating away at what powers Heather had left.
Grinding her teeth, Mila refused to believe there was nothing she could do. Then her eyes went wide as she realized there was something she could do. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her sisterhood phone, hitting the power button, but it wouldn't turn on. She hit the button again, but nothing. Flipping the phone over, she saw a circular hole melted into the back where the dark magic had dripped onto it when her shield had failed.
“Come on!” Mila growled. “Fucking motherfucker! This is some grade-A bullshit.”
Heather began to laugh hoarsely. “Sometimes life isn’t fair, little one. In fact, it rarely is.”
The sound of heavy footfalls made Mila spin just in time to see the Rougarou from the altar swing its massive hand full of razor-sharp talons into her chest.
She heard Danica scream something as the wind was knocked from her lungs and she was tossed across the room from the impact.
Mila was glad to see that Penny had moved to the last cage, and there was a group of people scrambling for the exit from the previous cage. Penny was doing good work.
Then Mila hit something hard and blacked out.
Chapter Eighteen
Mila sucked in a breath of air, sitting up on the concrete floor of the sawmill. She rubbed her head for a second, trying to remember what she was supposed to be doing. She looked around for a clue.
Danica was quickly stepping back, putting arrow after arrow into a charging Rougarou.
The haze was banished from Mila's mind in an instant. She climbed to her feet and sprinted at the Rougarou. Reaching behind her and pulling out Gram, she whispered the power word, unfolding the sword as she swung it. It flashed with a golden light, completing its transformation from a handle to a gold longsword just as it bit into the charging beast’s midsection.
Mila screamed with rage, driving the sword in a sweeping arc. The razor’s edge passed through flesh like it wasn't even there, and when the blade hit the spine, Mila summoned a strength she didn't know she possessed and drove it through the bone. It came out the wolfman’s back, and both halves slid to the floor.
Mila stood, legs apart, sword dripping blood, as she sucked in a deep breath.
The last lock fell to the floor, drawing Mila's attention. She watched as the frightened magicals pushed their way out of the cell and ran for the relative safety of the town.
Mila awkwardly pressed the call button on her earpiece with a finger on the hand that still held the Ivar. “Carl, the last of the captives are free. You need to cover them as long as you can. Keep those pups busy.”
“No problem,” came Carl’s short reply.
A shrill whistle made everyone in the room cringe. Mila was surprised to see Selina walking toward them, a whistle in her lips. She finished the long note, then put the whistle in her coat pocket.
“I have to admit, that was a lot of fun,” Seline said with girlish glee. “I haven't had a challenge like you in a while.”
Carl cut into her earpiece. “The Rougarou have broken off and are returning to the sawmill. You need to get out of there. There are at least twenty of the bastards left.”
Mila reached up and hit the button to reply, ignoring Selina while keeping an eye on her. “Can you pursue? We need to kill them all.”
“We can try, but the motherfuckers are fast.”
“Do your best,” Mila said, dropping the pistol to her side.
“It’s rude to ignore your host,” Selina said with a frown. She pointed an accusing finger at the empty cages. “Look what you did. Now I have to go get more food for Lord Azoth.”
“You and your sleepy buddy back there are not going to be doing anything. The jig’s up, Seline,” Mila said, angry that she couldn't really see how she was going to back that statement up.
Seline didn't either if her giggling was any indication. “I liked the trick with the bear, but my Rougarou are on their way back, and when they get here, they are going to rip your arms off and eat them for a snack,” she said, excitedly clapping her hands.
“You have got something seriously wrong with you,” Mila said, disgust on her face. “You know that, right?”
Seline’s face became twisted with hate. “My Lord says I’m special. Are you calling him a liar?”
Mila pointed to Azoth still in the same position he was the last time she looked. “Him? Yeah, he’s lying to you. You’re not special, you’re weak. That’s how he controls you—through your weakness.”
Seline stomped her foot like a toddler and stared daggers at Mila. Then without any warning, she whipped her wand out and pointed it at Mila.
Heather suddenly growled with effort and began to glow with golden light. Shimmering wings of light began to appear as her growl turned into a yell of effort. She was standing now, not slack in her bonds. She turned her face to Azoth, rage and anger plain on her face.
“You wanted a Valkyrie? Well, now you have one.” Heather’s voice was strong and clear.
Her wings became solid, their plumage sharp geometric lines that looked more like golden knives than feathers. Mila could feel the power pouring off her in waves. She also knew Heather didn't have that much power left. This was a last-ditch effort on her part, and Mila knew it.
Heather flexed her back, then jerked her right hand down. The chain strained, then a loud clang sounded from up near the ceiling, and twenty feet of metal came raining down in a pile beside the Valkyrie.
Seline’s eyes were wide with fear. She had thought Heather was nothing more than a husk at that point, but clearly, she had been wrong. She took a step backward then another before turning to run.
“Oh, no, you don't,” Heather said, slashing her arm back, and the twenty feet of chain along with it, then she snapped the chain forward like a whip.
The heavy chain sailed through the air and wrapped around Seline’s waist, pinning one arm to her torso.
Golden light shot down the chain, jumping from link to link until it struck Seline and consumed her.
Seline began to scream, smoke roiling off her as she convulsed under the attack. The amount of power coming off Heather was impressive but unsustainable. Heather didn't seem to care as she started screaming in pain along wi
th Seline.
Mila tried to think of how to stop this, but Heather had made her decision and was obviously going to burn herself out and take Seline with her.
The light traveling down the chain suddenly ceased and Seline slumped to the floor, but Heather continued her tormented wails. Mila didn't understand what was happening at first, then she saw Azoth slowly rise form his throne.
He held out a dark gray hand toward Heather, and Mila saw the strand of her soul come loose and begin to be pulled toward his palm.
“No!” Mila screamed, pointing and firing the Ivar without thought.
The bolts of magic slammed into a barrier he erected with a thought. The barrier and the spears of magic were consumed as he continued to draw the Valkyrie’s soul into him.
Mila began to charge forward, but Danica's hand on her shoulder stopped her. “You can't. He’ll kill you.”
Mila felt a sense of helplessness fall over her as she realized there was nothing she could do. This creature was unbelievably powerful, and it was still half asleep. She needed to get hold of Victoria as soon as possible.
In seconds Heather’s screams cut off as the last of the golden light was pulled from her chest and into Azoth. He breathed in deeply, expanding his chest under the gray robe.
“My Lord, that is too much power this early. You need more sustenance before you can eat such a rich meal,” Seline mumbled from where she was pushing herself up off the floor.
“There was little left, my child. A perfect amount for my current state.” Azoth’s voice sounded like a hundred creaking doors being pulled open at once. It was harsh and raspy but still had a deep power to it.
He turned to Heather’s unmoving form, face twisted in a frozen expression of pain, and smiled. “Delicious.” He reached out and pressed a finger to her forehead.
