by James Hunter
Those locusts would only buy me so much time, but I used the time I did have to heal Doris and Ianthe from a distance. The best part was, I still had over 200 Divine Essence Points to play around with.
As the healing power left me in a wave, I broke into a sprint—beelining toward Antiope and whatever was left of her centaur army. Unfortunately, Old Man Kraken had other things in mind. The big bastard used the coral-studded club to gain his feet, then lurched right into my path, weapon raised and ready to deal some serious damage. I slid my hand through the straps of my Sower’s Glass shield and took a fresh grip on the War Blade. Then I let out a yell, equal parts fury and defiance, and charged the monster.
But I had my work cut out for me.
Battling Old Man Kraken was like fighting a crab apple tree of living limbs. His tentacles circled my leg even as I caught the coral club on the Sower’s Glass. You’d think the glass would shatter under the sheer force of the blow, but nope. It took it like a champ—not so much as a scuff or a scratch on the glassy surface—though my arm went numb.
Ignoring that, I brought the War Blade around in a vicious arc, ready to slice the kraken’s head into sushi. Old Man Kraken moved with preternatural speed, jumping back and blocking the assault with his club. He jerked my legs out from under me—my back slapping into the sand—while two more tentacles closed in, wrapping around both my shield and my sword arms. Another slimy coil struck me with the club. Damn. The War Mammoth Cloak helped against slashing damage, but not against bashing damage. My helmet caught the blow. Pain blinded me.
Then I blinked and got pissed. Triggering Lightning Lance, I hit his legs and the electricity arced up his body. He was stunned for a second, the tentacles going slack. Using nothing but brute strength and sheer will, I ripped my arms free. Then I slashed the tentacle off my leg, rose, and cut off another coil. I drew my sword back to drive it through his throat when another icy gift from fucking Antiope froze my arm and my sword. Damn. Somehow, she’d escaped the wrath of my locusts and was on the move again. With a burst of magic-fueled super speed, she bolted for the water’s edge, raising her trident high.
Oh, shit. That was probably a bad thing.
Old Man Kraken stepped back and hurled his club through the gate, sparkling with frost. The brittle wood exploded, pieces of frozen shrapnel spinning off in every direction. The remaining sea centaurs charged through the gate and started up the steps. Some were bleeding from my Plague Locust attack, but others were fresh—reinforcements from the last wave that had galloped across the beach.
The game was far from over, though. Sure, they may have taken the gate, but they had some stiff resistance to go through before they made it up the stairs.
Myrina and her Battle Wardens waited—shields at the ready, weapons drawn. And they weren’t alone.
A shriek broke the air as a giant blue pterodactyl banked and dove, clawing eel-headed harpies from the sky. Asteria then descended to snatch centaurs off the steps, hurling them to their deaths with a flick of her feet. Next to the flying dinosaur, Toxaris flew in on Flutterhoney, a gleaming white Pegasus. The Beastiamancer archer was a blur of speed as she sent shaft after shaft into centaur hearts, her shots uncannily accurate. Flanking Flutterhoney on either side were a pair of other Amazons, mounted on winged horses of their own. They let loose a flurry of arrows.
Every shaft found its mark.
I saw a puff of smoke on the top of the lower walls where Doris and Ianthe were fighting for their lives. They had some help now. Sophia, my teleporter, was ferrying Elementalists down, one after another. Calla was there, heating things up. Her fire erupted on the walls in a blaze of heat and light, plumes of acrid smoke curling upward. The recently resurrected Sabra unleashed a plague of vines, which covered the shattered gate in a tangle of thorns. Aella, my Air-Witch, used her winds to send snake men flying. She also summoned lightning down, electrocuting everything not friendly in a ten-yard radius.
My ’Zons were doing well, but part of me was angry that I wasn’t killing all of our enemies myself. It felt like they were taking the last slice of pizza, and it was loaded with pepperoni.
Then, again, I still had a nice slice of cheesy battle on my plate.
The stink of death filled my nose, and I turned to see the rotting corpse of Praxidike—the Fury I’d killed what felt like ages ago. But, of course, that douchebag Earl Necro Earl had brought her back to life. Chances were, Antiope must’ve summoned her with her new array of glowy, green Necro gear. Dripping with ocean water, the undead Praxidike unwound her whip and cracked it at me like a zombie Indiana Jones fresh from the grave. She lashed out with frightening speed, the snap of leather echoing across the beach. I shot right, narrowing avoiding the whip.
One of Old Man Kraken’s tentacles snaked toward me at the same instant, but I ducked it.
Antiope turned from the ocean to speed across the sand, coming at me with the trident. The green runes on her ring glowed, leaking a nauseating smoke of rot and ruin.
It was three against me. Yum. They were just the tasty snack I wanted, however rank they smelled.
Antiope stabbed at me with the trident. I spun and took the attack on my arm, shattering the ice covering it. Finally, I was free. The Sower’s Glass deflected her next two attacks. I could’ve used the indestructible hourglass to stop time. Yeah, no. I wanted to fight. I shoved Antiope back as Old Man Kraken tromped up, determined to get up close and personal.
I released the War Blade. It shot toward the Dark Amazon of its own accord while I turned my full attention on the last kraken.
I punched Old Man Kraken right in the middle of his beard. I then lowered a shoulder and rammed him back. Wheeling, I ducked the undead Fury’s whip. Ha. She was a lot less chatty in death than she’d been in life, which I counted as a win. Old Man Kraken struck again, tentacles whizzing through the air. I feinted right, and dove left, dodging suction-covered limbs. Rolling across the sand, I seized a Czech hedgehog and lifted it over my head. The fucking thing was heavy, but the Might of Hercules ring was helping me deal with the weight. With a grunt, I fastballed the thing right into Old Man Kraken. It caught the kraken in the chest—a direct hit—and punched through scale, skin, and muscle.
It hung there, lodged firmly in his flesh.
Sprinting across the sand, I jumped and drop-kicked the big X into his heart. The ugly bastard toppled over, dead before he hit the ground.
The battle wasn’t over, of course. The undead Fury whipped me. My skin wasn’t steel anymore, so it hurt, but I didn’t let myself get tangled up. Meanwhile, the War Blade soared back into my hand just as Antiope went to impale me like a piece of shrimp on a fork. I snatched my trusty sword out of the air just in time. I caught her trident with the cross guard of the War Blade. Weapons locked, she glared into my eyes and I glared right back.
“You’ve come far, War God,” Antiope spat. “There was a day when even the sea centaurs would’ve been able to destroy you.”
“Yeah, well, fuck you too,” I grunted and shoved her off. I slashed at her, but she had that damn enhanced speed—the speed I’d given her. The undead Praxidike whipped me again, trying to distract me so Antiope could pincushion me. I growled in frustration and unleashed a Lightning Lance, blasting chunks of rotting meat off her bones.
Naturally, Antiope exploited the brief opening, hitting me with a renewed wave of arctic air, but I shrugged the attack off. Truthfully, the cold felt good since I was overheating with all the fighting and the big War Mammoth Cloak on my back.
“To think I used to love you,” Antiope said in a fierce voice. “Now, I hate you. I hate you and all your Amazons.”
“Why is that?” I asked, facing her once more. We went back to clashing, sword against trident, circling around and around. Feint. Parry. Slash. Thrust. It was a nuanced dance of steel, interspersed with her attempting to impale me with spikes of ice while I tried my damnedest to electrocute her with my Lightning Lance. I had fewer than 200 points left, but I wasn’t wor
ried. Antiope was quick, but I was good. We battled on. Occasionally, Praxidike would come at me, but I was able to stay ahead of her zombie nonsense.
Antiope hadn’t answered my question, so I asked it again. “Why do you hate us, Antiope?”
She looked confused and didn’t answer. Which is when it hit me: she didn’t know why she was fighting for the bad guys.
“Hades tortured you into hating us.” I dosed myself with Burning Aura, and her next cold attack turned into a hazy mist.
“I’d rather serve my Dark Lord than a weakling like you.” Antiope went low, trying to jam the trident into my leg, but she’d telegraphed the move. Myrina had taught me well. I parried her blow with the Sower’s Glass and then struck at her head. Antiope used the shaft of her weapon to bat the War Blade away, then dropped back a handful of steps. She retreated toward the water, trying to coax me closer, but I wasn’t going to take the bait. I wasn’t one hundred percent sure what capabilities that trident of hers had, but chances were, it got really nasty in the water.
No way was I stupid enough to be duped like that.
Praxidike struck again, the tip of her whip biting into the back of one arm. She was turning into a real nuisance and I was starting to get seriously annoyed. I grabbed the leather, quickly wrapping it around and around my hand, and yanked the damn thing away from her. To think she’d been the big, bad villain not too long ago. With squinted eyes and a feral smirk, I tossed the whip aside, letting it drop to the ground.
“I’m weak?” I laughed at that. It had been five minutes, and Defender was available again. “Have you been paying attention?” I turned my flesh into steel, which dropped me down to 143 Divine Essence Points. I had to save some because once I killed every fucking thing on the beach, I would need to forge more Amazons and rebuild walls.
I strode forward. “I took out your three kraken, and I’m about to take you down as well. Your attack has failed. You joined the wrong side, Antiope, and if you stopped to think, you’d know it.”
“Never!” Antiope shrieked, driven on by pain and irrational, blind rage.
She came at me, teeth bared in a snarl, eyes wild. I smashed the trident out of her hand with the flat of the War Blade and clocked her with the Sower’s Glass. She was stunned for a second, reeling where she stood. I dropped the hourglass and grabbed her wrists to keep her from bolting again. She activated the bracers at once, magical frost exploding outward, my sweat turning to permafrost, ice creeping up my hands and arms. I felt the frostbite in my fingers, but I didn’t let go.
Half-mad or not, she was my enemy—there was only thing to do. She’d killed Sabra, and now it was time for her to die. The godstone shrieked, demanding her blood. For once, I agreed.
Her eyes widened, nervous sweat coating her brow.
A sulfurous smell burst around us as Sophia appeared with Loxo in tow. Praxidike flew toward me. Loxo threw her magical dagger, Snow Claw, into the chest of the undead Fury. The winged she-devil went rolling across the sand. But apparently it was hard to keep a bad woman down. The undead thing was up in an instant, plucking the knife out of her chest. She didn’t bleed exactly, but black bits of ice dribbled out of the wound.
At the same time, a woman stumbled out from behind a Czech hedgehog. I recognized the gauzy dress at once. It was the same woman I’d seen rounding a corner in the city not twenty minutes earlier. Even from a distance, her beauty distracted me. I’d never seen anyone so gorgeous. That distraction was enough.
Antiope wrenched herself out of my grasp. “I hate you!” There were tears on her face. She dove and collected her trident.
At the same time, the undead Fury scooped up the whip and took to the air, leathery wings pumping frantically to gain altitude. Antiope caught the dangling length of leather, and the two went flying away across the ocean. It was like a bad rerun of Necro Earl getting away, almost the exact same scenario, which pissed me off to no end.
Nope. Not again. I caught Sophia’s eye. “Do it,” I barked.
The teleporter acted in an instant, vanishing with a puff of purple smoke and reappearing in the air above the undead Fury. My teleporter unsheathed her katana even as she fell, cutting off Praxidike’s head with one furious, perfect stroke. The undead Fury went limp, her wings shuddering to a stop, her body plunging into the water. The Dark Amazon fell right along with her, tumbling into the waves as they crashed against the beach.
Loxo and I sprinted over.
Antiope got to her feet. She was knee-deep in water. She gave me a last glare, clutching the trident. Then the three-pronged spear turned into an evil green supernova. The ocean around her answered the call, turning that same color.
“Too bad we did not battle closer to the water,” the Dark Amazon called out. “Otherwise, this fight would have turned out very differently.”
That made me think of what Sabra had heard when she’d been in the Underworld. Hades had been muttering about Poseidon. Could that trident be a gift from the sea god?
The next wave picked her up, and she stood proudly on the water as though it were solid ground. The trident flared in Antiope’s hand and the wave beneath her grew—smaller waves feeding into the ever-growing behemoth beneath her feet. In another minute, that wave would be the size of a small skyscraper.
Sophia teleported in, sword flashing, but she was batted away by an arm of living ocean before her strike could land. She went skipping across the sea, bouncing along the surface like a well-thrown stone.
Beside me, Loxo had her bow out; she fired a barrage of arrows at her traitorous sister, but another sweep of water deflected them with ease. I flung the War Blade, but it too was knocked aside—completely ineffective. By what? The ocean? How did that work? What kind of sorcery was this? In the end, it didn’t matter. She was so close. I couldn’t let her get away—not now. Hell, if I had to swim through an ocean of lava to kill her, I would.
I recalled my sword and threw myself at the growing wave.
It hardened; instead of diving into the sea, it was like I had jumped into a brick wall. I fell back—caught completely off guard—landing on my ass in the wet sand, my face blazing and my head ringing.
“Better luck next time, War God,” Antiope gloated from the top of her wave. She shot me a wink then fell backward, arms outstretched. I watched in utter unbelief as the ocean swallowed her. Gone in an eyeblink, with no sign she’d ever been there. Well, except for the chaos and bodies scattered across the beach.
I wanted more than anything to punch something in the face—preferably Antiope—but Hades’ forces were scattered. Dead, dismembered, or in the process of dying at the hands of my ’Zons. Slowly, I got to my feet. Sophia appeared next to me, then crumbled. I caught her before she hit the ground. Sophia was big and blond, like a Viking volleyball player. I was more than strong enough to handle Sophia, though, no matter how muscled and gorgeous she was.
Loxo turned on the strange woman who’d distracted me. My Huntress had her short sword out in one hand, Snow Claw gripped in the other. “Who are you?” Loxo demanded.
As though in reply, the ocean came to life and crashed down on Sophia and me. Momentarily, we were pulled under the surf, so I couldn’t hear the answer.
Still, whoever the strange woman was, the godstone liked her. It liked her a lot.
I totally agreed with the gem.
Goddamn Goddess
SOPHIA GRABBED ME, and we teleported out of the surf and onto the sandy shoreline. The battle was waning around me. All of the harpies were dead, their bodies scattered across the beach and dotting the rocky cliff face. The few remaining werewolves were busy meeting their demise at the end of Amazonian swords and spears. The last of the sea centaurs were fleeing, making for the ocean as fast as their hooves would take them. At a glance, it was a rout.
My helmet had slipped most of the way off thanks to my tumble through the waves, so I yanked it off and threw it onto the sand, then shook the saltwater from my eyes.
Despite the obvious vi
ctory, the godstone raged in my chest, furious that Antiope had escaped yet again. True, we might’ve won the battle, but the fact that she was still breathing was an egregious injustice. I wanted to scream, to call down lightning and unleash biblical plagues, but there was no one to turn my anger on. So, with an effort of will, I pushed the blind rage away and turned to the business at hand: taking care of my ’Zons. I called up my gaming menu to make sure there weren’t any serious injuries or damage I needed to handle ASAP. A pop up appeared immediately, and I scrolled through the various menus and reports.
We hadn’t lost a single Amazon in the fight, which was great, and all three pillboxes were intact. Another win there.
Then, before I closed out from the gaming menu, the breath caught in my throat as I realized something.
My helmet was on the beach, lying on the sand where I’d tossed it moments before. Suddenly my mouth was dry, my heart racing. I’d never been able to access the menus without the helmet before, which could only mean one thing: I’d levelled up again. I toggled through the options until I hit my character stats. Bingo. Level twenty-six. But this was more than just a simple level up. If I could now tap into the gaming interface without the helmet, it meant I’d finally become acclimated to the raw power of godstone ...
Which was both amazing and deeply troubling. Needing the helmet was a major liability, so being able to use my abilities without it was incredible. But did that also mean Ares was gaining even more of a foothold in my mind? On that, I didn’t have an answer.
I dismissed the dark thought as I saw Loxo walking toward me with the beautiful woman striding next to her. I could worry about Ares and the godstone later. For now, it was time to get some answers.
Myrina marched down to meet Sophia and me—her face a thunderhead of disapproval, scratches and cuts littering her arms. She scowled at the gorgeous woman who strode forward. At least she wasn’t scowling at me. I knew a lecture was coming, one about how I should’ve waited and how I was more important than any of the Amazons. I was going to stop her in her tracks if she started that shit with me. I’d held the beach. If anything, I should chew her and the rest of my women out for arriving so fucking late. What in the hell had they been doing? Turning over in their sleep?
