Screams rose behind them, and Kyrie spun around to see mimics breaching the ring twenty feet away.
"Over there!" he shouted. He grabbed a javelin, dipped its tip into the flames, and tossed it. The burning missile flew and sank into a mimic's chest. It screamed and fell.
The twins charged, screaming and swinging torches. They clubbed and burned mimics, who fell before them. Kyrie and Lacrimosa tossed flaming logs onto the new breach, sealing it.
The Vir Requis looked from side to side, panting and coughing. Smoke and sparks covered them. The mimics were now attacking a third location in the flaming ring.
"Shoot them down!" Lacrimosa shouted, voice hoarse. They grabbed their fallen bows, loaded more arrows, and shot. Mimics fell and rolled down the mountainside, blazing. The stench of smoke and rot filled the night.
"Look!" Kyrie shouted. He pointed across the courtyard to the western side of Draco Murus. "They're over there too, more mimics. Lacrimosa, with me! We'll guard the west."
Leaving the twins to defend the eastern mountainside, Kyrie ran with Lacrimosa across the ruins. The ring of fire was thinner here; they had expected the bulk of the attack from the east, whence the mimics had travelled. And yet a dozen of the creatures were attacking the flames here. Their eyes blazed, and their grins oozed drool thick with worms.
Lungs burning, Kyrie shot more arrows, hitting the creatures, but more kept coming. His stomach curdled. They were low on arrows; he had only five left in his quiver. He shot one more, but missed and cursed.
"Girls, you all right?" he shouted while nocking another arrow.
Agnus Dei shouted from across the courtyard. "They're breaching two places. They're pouring in!"
Kyrie cursed, coughed, and spat. His eyes burned with the smoke; he could barely see. He shot an arrow, hit a mimic, and spun around. He loaded another arrow and saw two mimics charging across the courtyard. He shot, hit one, but the other reached him before he could reload. Its claws swiped, and Kyrie leaped back. It jumped onto him and bit his shoulder.
Kyrie screamed, wrestled it off, and reached for a flaming log. Fire scorched his hand, and he shouted but managed to swing the burning stick. It hit the mimic's face.
Kyrie jumped to his feet. His hand throbbed. Mimics were breaching the flaming ring beside him; Lacrimosa was swinging a torch, holding them back. Kyrie nocked an arrow, fired, and hit the mimic closest to her. He grabbed another arrow, fired again, hit another mimic. When he reached into his quiver for more, he found it empty.
"Great," he muttered. He dropped his bow and grabbed two torches, one in each hand.
"Kyrie!" Gloriae shouted from somewhere across the courtyard. "Kyrie, we need you! Twenty mimics broke in."
Kyrie looked at Lacrimosa. She stood at the breached ring, swinging her torch, holding back four rotting bodies.
"Go to them!" the queen shouted. "I'll hold these ones back. Help the girls!"
Kyrie cursed. He didn't want to abandon Lacrimosa, but the twins needed him. His hand throbbing, dread twisting his gut, Kyrie ran east across the courtyard. The twins were fighting back to back, swinging torches and thrusting javelins. Blood dripped down Agnus Dei's thigh and Gloriae's left arm. A score of mimics surrounded them.
Swinging his torches, Kyrie leaped into the battle. He clubbed one mimic's head, then another. The creatures howled and burned. One swung a sword. The blade whooshed, and Kyrie ducked. The blow glanced off his helmet and rang in his ears, dazing him. Kyrie managed to thrust his torch, striking the mimic's chest. It fell back, and Kyrie chased it, swung his torch, and burned it until it fell.
Two more mimics slammed into him, and Kyrie hit the cobblestones. The breath was knocked out of him, and claws slashed his chest. Pain blazed, and he couldn't breathe. All he could see was darkness and fire. Teeth bit his arm.
No. Don't die now. Not yet. Benedictus would not give up so easily. Kyrie couldn't allow himself to do any less. He shoved himself to his feet, though the world spun, and lashed his torches. Sparks flew in curtains. Kyrie screamed, and the mimics fell back.
Blood trickled down his chest, and the night blurred. He didn't know how long he fought. Dimly, he was aware of the twins tossing flaming javelins, pushing mimics back. He saw Lacrimosa swinging a torch in each hand. Deformed, stitched bodies burned and fell around him.
It seemed ages before the mimics stopped charging. Kyrie lowered his torches, panting, ready to collapse. Piles of burning bodies rose around him, raising black smoke. The stench was so heavy, Kyrie could barely breathe.
He looked around. The twins stood side by side, covered in ash, blood, and mimic drool. Lacrimosa approached them, helmet dented and clothes charred, fire-tipped javelins in her hands. The Vir Requis moved to stand back to back, looking around cautiously.
"Are they all dead?" Agnus Dei said, voice hoarse.
Kyrie narrowed his eyes. The fires still crackled and shadows danced; it was hard to see. But no mimics stirred. Their bodies burned, unmoving, across the ruins and mountainsides.
"They're all dead," Kyrie said. "We—"
A howl shook the ruins.
A figure stepped through the orphaned archway, seven feet tall. It unfurled its arms; each was grotesquely long, sewn together from three normal arms. It held a sword in each hand. It grinned at them, baring wolf fangs.
"Not all dead," the chief mimic said and approached them, brandishing its blades.
Agnus Dei charged forward first, swinging her torch and screaming.
The mimic swung one link of arms, hit her helmet with its blade, and knocked her down.
"Agnus Dei!" Kyrie screamed and ran toward the mimic. Gloriae and Lacrimosa ran with him, swinging their torches.
The mimic's arms shot out. Kyrie ducked, and an arm swung over his head. Gloriae screamed. The mimic laughed. Lacrimosa ran and drove her torch forward, but the mimic's blade halved it. The top half, still aflame, landed at Kyrie's feet.
He kicked it, and it hit the mimic. Kyrie held his breath... but the creature didn't catch fire. Instead it lumbered toward him, swinging its blades.
Kyrie leaped back and raised his arms, protecting his face. A blade hit his vambrace and sparked.
"Agnus Dei!" he shouted. She was struggling to rise, blinking. Kyrie grabbed her and hoisted her up.
"Careful, Kyrie!" she shouted and pulled him back. The mimic was laughing, and its blades swung inches from Kyrie's face.
A scream of rage tore the air. Gloriae was charging, a lit javelin in hand. She drove the javelin into the mimic's back. The tip burst from its chest, still burning.
Kyrie gasped. Would it finally die?
No. Its torso did not catch fire. It turned to stare at Gloriae and laughed. Drool dripped down its chin. Maggots covered the javelin that thrust out from its chest.
"Gloriae," it said, voice guttural. Worms squirmed between its teeth. "Your father seeks you."
It swung its blades at her.
Gloriae ducked, drew her sword with a hiss, and parried. She swung her blade and severed one of the creature's arms.
Kyrie's heart leaped. He charged forward with his torch. Agnus Dei and Lacrimosa ran too, screaming and waving torches.
The severed arm squirmed toward them, leaped from the ground, and slammed against their chests.
Lacrimosa fell and knocked into Agnus Dei, who knocked into Kyrie. Gloriae charged at the mimic, but it swung its remaining arm and drove her back. Its blade whirled.
The severed arm squirmed, and its hand caught Lacrimosa's hair. It pulled her to her feet. Lacrimosa wriggled and tried to pry herself loose, but could not. Unnaturally strong, the arm tugged her toward the body it had been attached to. The creature snarled at her, spraying her with drool.
"Lacrimosa," it hissed. "I was made with the blood of your husband." It spat a glob of blood onto her chest. "Do you recognize it? My master took it from his blade."
Agnus Dei, screaming and weeping, ran forward. She barrelled into the mimic, and it fell. It howled and its
teeth sank into Agnus Dei's shoulder, but she seemed not to notice. She grabbed its head and slammed it against the floor again and again. The skull cracked, and centipedes spilled from it.
Gloriae slammed her blade down, severing the mimic's second link of arms. Kyrie set fire to it. The arms squirmed and screamed like a blazing snake.
Lacrimosa still struggled with the first severed arm; it was clutching her throat now. Kyrie rushed forward, set it ablaze, and its fingers opened. Lacrimosa breathed raggedly.
"Agnus Dei!" she whispered, hoarse.
The mimic's head had shattered. Blood and bone fragments spread across the cobblestones. And yet its jaw would not release Agnus Dei's shoulder. Kyrie grabbed the jaw, twisted, and managed to pry it off. He tossed it down and stomped on it until the teeth broke off.
Agnus Dei was screaming and sobbing. She drew her sword and began stabbing the mimic's torso, again and again. Its legs kicked and cockroaches fled from it.
"You have to burn it!" Gloriae said, but Agnus Dei seemed not to hear. She kept stabbing and weeping and screaming.
Kyrie touched her shoulder, but she seemed not to notice him.
"Agnus Dei," he said. "Kitten."
She spun toward him, eyes red and puffy. "It said... about Father, did you hear? It said...."
"It was lying, Agnus Dei," Kyrie said. "Don't listen to it." He handed her a torch. "Burn its body, Agnus Dei. Finish it."
Agnus Dei took the torch and stared down at the mimic. There was nothing left but twitching legs and a shredded torso.
A voice rose from it.
Kyrie gasped. How could it still speak? And yet its blood bubbled, and strange, gurgling words rose from it.
"We will... return... more of us... thousands... we will make you mimics too...."
Agnus Dei tossed the torch onto it.
The remains caught fire, and a scream rose from them, high-pitched. Kyrie covered his ears and grimaced. The scream went on and on, and the ruins shook.
Finally silence fell.
Kyrie breathed out shakily.
His wounds ached, his lungs burned, and he nearly collapsed.
"It's over," he said hoarsely. Agnus Dei crashed into his arms, and he held her. Gloriae and Lacrimosa joined the embrace. Blood and ash covered them.
"We beat them," Kyrie whispered into the embrace. Agnus Dei's hair surrounded his face like a pillow, scented of smoke. "We defended our home."
He looked to the eastern horizon. Red wisps spread across it. Dawn had arrived. It looked to Kyrie like rivers of blood.
One battle had ended. The war against the mimics, he knew, was only beginning.
LACRIMOSA
The young ones huddled under the archway, embracing one another. She had washed their wounds with spirits, bandaged them, and prayed for them. Now, as the youths whispered in the dawn, Lacrimosa could be alone with her thoughts, her grief, and her memories.
She walked to the edge of the courtyard. A bit of old wall, three feet tall, jutted there like a last tooth in the gums of an old dragon. Lacrimosa climbed atop it and stared into the dawn. Wind played with her hair. Snow fell lightly, kissing her cheeks. She looked toward the valley where her husband lay buried.
"I miss you, Ben," she whispered.
She missed his strong arms around her; his laughter, deep and rolling like distant thunder; the stubble on his face; the softness in his eyes when she kissed him.
"Watch over me, Ben. You walk now in our halls beyond the stars, with our parents, with our siblings. You're at rest now. I continue the fight for you."
The wind gusted, opening her cloak, chilling her. Lacrimosa hugged herself. It would be so easy, she thought, to lie down in the snow, close her eyes, and wait for warmth to take her. It would be like falling asleep, and she would be with Benedictus again. But Lacrimosa turned her head, looked back at Kyrie and her daughters, and knew that she must be strong for them.
"I must survive," she whispered into the wind. "I must guide them, and heal them, and fight for them. Who else would?"
They had so much to live for, she thought. Kyrie and Agnus Dei wanted to get married, to raise a family. Gloriae still dreamed of becoming a great leader, a queen of Requiem and defeater of Osanna. The youths spoke of rebuilding Requiem, of killing Dies Irae, of changing the world. In all this darkness, they saw light.
And what of myself? Lacrimosa thought. Do I still see light in the world? My light died and lies buried in that valley. My children are my light now—my daughters, and Kyrie, my adopted son.
"I don't know what strength I still have, Ben," Lacrimosa spoke to the distant valley. "But so long as I can, I will carry your torch. I will keep our children alive and their hope burning. I will do this for them and for you." Suddenly she was trembling, and tears flowed down her cheeks. "I miss you, Ben. I wish you were here with me. I love you."
When the wind gusted again, ash from a mimic's body swirled around her boots. Lacrimosa looked at the burned body, which lay in the courtyard, and saw a red glint. She frowned.
Wrapping her cloak around her, she stepped off the wall and approached the body. It was but a pile of ash and old bones. She stirred the ash with her boot, and saw the glint again—something red and glistening like a ruby. Thankful for her leather gloves, Lacrimosa reached into the ash and retrieved a gemstone the size of a chicken's egg.
She brushed it off and held it up. It sparkled strangely in the light. Shadows and stars seemed to swirl inside it, blood-red. It was heavy. Though small enough to fit in her palm, it felt much larger, like lifting a gourd.
"What's that, Lacrimosa?"
Gloriae walked toward her, eyes narrowed. Inwardly, Lacrimosa winced. She still won't call me Mother. I saved her from Dies Irae moons ago, but I'm still only Lacrimosa to her.
She hid her disappointment. "A gemstone," she said, holding it out. "I found it inside a mimic's body."
Gloriae frowned at the stone. "This looks familiar. I've seen this before somewhere." She scrunched her lips. "Yes. Artifacts of Wizardry and Power spoke of glowing red stones."
Lacrimosa nodded. "Gloriae, would you stay here and watch? You have the sharpest eyes. Call us if more mimics arrive. Kyrie, Agnus Dei! Come downstairs, into the cellars. We have some reading to do."
Soon the three stood underground by the hearth. The cellars looked strangely empty without the wood they'd been collecting for weeks. Her footfalls echoed. Sap, twigs, and pine needles covered the floor. They had few furnishings: A table and chairs Kyrie had built, a bearskin rug, and beds of straw. They had no shelves; their belongings, including their books Mythic Creatures of the Grey Age and Artifacts of Wizardry and Power, lay in the corner.
Lacrimosa set the gemstone on the table, then fetched Artifacts of Wizardry and Power. She placed the ancient, leather-bound tome beside the gemstone, blew off the dust, and opened it.
"Let's see," she said and sat by the table. Kyrie and Agnus Dei stood behind her, looking over her shoulders at the book.
"Does it say anything about gemstones from mimic guts?" Agnus Dei said. She reached toward the pages. "Give it here."
Lacrimosa slapped her hand away. "Be patient. I'm looking." She flipped to the first chapter. "This chapter is about the Griffin Heart."
Agnus Dei groaned. "We know all about the Griffin Heart. We destroyed it already. Come on, Mother, get to the gemstones."
Lacrimosa turned her head and glowered at her daughter. "Agnus Dei, calm down. I'm looking."
She flipped the parchment pages and reached the second chapter. "And this chapter is about the Summoning Stick...."
Agnus Dei groaned louder. "Mother, we already used the Summoning Stick when fighting the nightshades. Give me the book. I'm a fast reader."
Lacrimosa glared at her daughter. "Agnus Dei, you're making me angry. Will you please let me—"
Lacrimosa froze.
The table was shaking.
"Earthquake?" she whispered. The gemstone and book rattled on the tabletop.
&
nbsp; Kyrie shook his head. "Only the table is moving. Look! Its legs."
Lacrimosa gasped. The table legs were curling inward, forming a shape like animal legs. Before her eyes, the table began to creep across the floor, insect-like.
"What the—?" Kyrie said. "Agnus Dei, look what you did. Even the table is mad at you."
"I did nothing!" Agnus Dei objected.
Lacrimosa rose from her chair and stared. Her heart raced and her fingertips stung. She didn't like this. The table crawled, reminding her of a spider. It seemed to... turn to face her. The book and gemstone slid and fell onto the rug.
The table froze.
"Look, the rug!" Lacrimosa said.
They crowded around it and watched. The bearskin rug twisted. Its head rose to glare at them with its beady eyes. Its mouth opened, fangs glinting, and roared. The body of the rug squirmed, as if the bear were struggling to rise and surprised to find that it had no bones left.
Kyrie whistled. "First the griffins and nightshades. Then the mimics. And now the furniture is turning against us. Can't we ever win?"
Agnus Dei punched his shoulder. "Pup, this is no time for being smart."
Lacrimosa lifted the gemstone off the rug. The bear gave a last growl, then fell flat onto the floor. Once more, it was still, its eyes dead and its mouth shut. The gemstone was now ice cold, nearly freezing Lacrimosa's hand. Red liquid swirled within it; it looked like blood.
"The gemstone brings things to life," Kyrie whispered, voice awed.
Agnus Dei snorted. "Sir Obvious saves the day again."
He glared at her. "You sound just like your sister, do you know?"
They raised their fists, and their eyes flashed. Lacrimosa stepped between them.
"Children! Stop fighting."
Agnus Dei flushed. "I'm not a child, Mother, I'm nineteen. The pup is only seventeen. He's a child."
Kyrie opened his mouth to object, but Lacrimosa put a finger against his lips.
"Kyrie, not now. No arguing. You two are children, and intolerable children at that." She placed the gemstone in Kyrie's hand. "Hold this. Now let's try this book again—quietly this time."
Song of Dragons: The Complete Trilogy Page 54
