by Ann Aguirre
A clever stroke. With its spinal column severed, the Hazo fell. Not dead but dying, and in absolute agony. These weren’t invulnerable like the summoned knight had been. We were on its home ground and it lacked the magickal protection Caim had owned in Peru.
But there were so many more hunting us. It had taken two on one to bring this Hazo down. Too many more fights like this one, and— No. Best not to consider the worst, even in my head.
My arms felt like cooked noodles. I tried to push away from the wall, but I couldn’t get up. No strength. Chance lifted me, wanting to shake me, no doubt, but my cheek was so swollen I couldn’t see out of that eye; I looked too pathetic for his wrath. Instead he cradled me against his chest and beckoned to Shannon.
As he ran, he demanded, “What the hell did you think you were doing?”
My bruised throat felt as though speaking would kill me. I forced the words out anyway in a hoarse rasp. “Slowing them down. Watching our backs.”
“Yeah? And who had yours?”
“You and Shan,” I whispered. “Like always.”
He held any further castigation because Greydusk met us halfway. His sharkish features drew tight with worry. “How badly are you hurt, my queen?”
“Please don’t call me that. It’s Corine.” Such an effort to push the sounds out. “You should go. Save yourself.”
The demon shook his head. “You may not be their queen, but you are mine. I will never forsake you.”
“Tell me it’s not far,” Shannon said. “This is fun and all, but I’d like to make our big exit now.”
“One more room, I think. Possibly two.” Grey sounded unsure—just what we needed to bolster morale.
I touched Chance on the shoulder. “I can walk now. My legs are fine.”
Overstatement. The bite where the Gorder sank its teeth in to save me from falling throbbed like fire. Might be infected, but it wouldn’t help to whine. My face and throat were fucked up beyond all recognition; I turned my head in order to see the left side of the hallway.
“Are you positive?” Chance asked.
“Yep.”
As he set me on my feet, the rest of the Hazo troop found us. Nine of them. Four of us—and a terrified dog. I’d faced some shitty odds in my life, but this—this was something else entirely.
What spells do I remember? I had a big blank spot in my head. I didn’t remember my mother’s magick. I had relied on Ninlil for so much, gotten comfortable with her natural knowledge, and now I was fucking helpless. Dead weight.
“Shannon, stay back,” I begged.
She gave a nervous laugh, holding her sword in a defensive stance. “I’m not charging them. I’m not crazy.”
“Stall them,” Greydusk said.
Chance moved in front of us protectively while I cast another ward. My last. This I remembered because I had been drawing runes all the way through our retreat, but I couldn’t recall any other wards to save my life. Maybe this one would.
The demon’s skin rippled as he shifted; he had fought the shades in Swordwraith form. Hopefully it would prove effective against the Hazo too, who threw themselves repeatedly at the shield, trying to break it down with brute force. They couldn’t circle around; this was the rear part of the palace and there were no other paths. We would pass here, or we would die.
“Retreat around that corner,” Chance ordered. “It’ll help me focus if you’re not in danger.”
I glanced at Shannon, who nodded. Out of sight, we huddled together. She put an arm around me and I leaned in, shaking. Her heart beat too fast as the shield fell. I could tell it had by the combat noises. Screams, blows, madness. I willed it to be over, for Greydusk and Chance to prevail. I had no magick left, or I would have fought beside them.
At last Chance called, “Corine!”
I limped back the way we’d come. Found nine Hazo corpses in a gruesome pile. To my horror, Greydusk lay on his side, blood leaking out of a terrible wound. Shannon sucked in a sharp breath.
Ignoring my own pain, I knelt beside him. “Let’s get you up.”
“The portal room lies just beyond those doors.…” He gasped, one long fingered-hand flexing with the pain. “I…fear I will not be able to finish this task.”
“Bullshit.” Tears prickled in my eyes, and I dashed them away. “Oh, God, Grey, don’t. You said demons don’t have an afterlife. I can’t—”
“You treated me as a man of honor from the beginning. With you, my queen, I was free. That is worth dying for.”
And then there were three.
My Sweetest Downfall
For long moments, I knelt in guilty silence.
“There were too many. They’re so fucking big. Strong. I’m fast, but with five Hazo trying to eviscerate me, I just couldn’t dodge them all. I got tired. And he threw himself in front of me.”
He didn’t need to tell me why. I knew. Because you’re the queen’s consort.
“He died for you—to please me?” Raw anguish scalded my spirit.
“To save you from pain.”
“I should have told him he wasn’t just my minion or whatever. That he was a friend too.”
Shannon put a hand on my shoulder, and for the first time I noticed that our gifts didn’t spark off each other anymore. We hadn’t touched much since the Hazo gave her back to me, and I couldn’t recall when it started. The sinking in my stomach told me I wasn’t human anymore, but despair had to get in line behind my grief.
“He knew,” she said softly. “Why do you think he stayed with you, fought so hard? Demons aren’t known for their altruism.”
No, they weren’t, and the fact that we’d found such a good soul here, of all places, made me wonder about the stories I’d been told. I didn’t know what was true anymore. I wanted to cry but there was no time.
It didn’t seem right to leave him, but Chance was correct when he said, “I need both hands free to fight.”
“Give me another minute.” Laying my hands on Greydusk’s brow, I whispered to him in thanks and affection. Maybe the Imaron had been right; there was nothing left of demons after they died, but I spoke the words for myself.
Then, with great regret, I picked up my purse—which Greydusk had gone to so much trouble to save for me and checked on Butch; he was terrified but whole—and then slung it over my shoulder. My heart ached as I limped away from Greydusk’s body. His loyalty shouldn’t have meant giving up everything for me, but he wouldn’t want us to die either. I squared my shoulders, pressed the fear down, and led Shannon and Chance toward the final door. Tears stung my eyes; I stepped through, partly blinded by them.
The room was massive, full of imposing statuary in weird, demonic shapes, molded arches, and a fountain in the center. Along each wall to the right and left there were mirrors twice as tall as a man, not made of glass but of hammered silver. Magickal lights hung around the perimeter in ornate sconces, and I noticed four shadows at the far end that didn’t come from the marble statues.
Then the spell hit us.
It tingled in a familiar way, but my bracelet deflected it. Tia’s gift broke into rusted metal shards, falling from my wrist. I recognized the feel of the snare spell and whirled, dashing the tears from my eyes. Oz. From his appearance, times had been hard; his robe was ripped and stained. Unfortunately, he also had a Hazo and a couple of Saremon minions as his honor guard.
We were so fucked.
Need two hands free to fight. As one, we dropped our belongings, but I was careful with my purse.
“Hide,” I ordered the dog.
Chance and Shannon sprinted for the lesser threats. I guessed they reckoned if they could kill the other mages quickly, it would limit the amount of magick flying around. Oz didn’t waste time. He slammed another spell and ice frosted the place where I’d been standing. I wasn’t anymore. I rolled behind a huge statue, stifling a moan at how it aggravated my injuries. If he couldn’t see me, he couldn’t target me.
The Hazo roared. I peered around the stone th
igh and saw the enormous demon charge. Chance rolled under the attack and came up with fiery fists to punch the first Saremon. He didn’t need to kill him with one blow. The flames leapt to the mage’s robe, and once the arcane fire started, there was no way in hell the demon could focus enough to cast. He ran, screaming, slapping at the fabric to no avail. Which left three.
Shannon stabbed the second Saremon while Oz aimed another spell at me. I ducked out of sight, racking my brain as to how I could help with a bad leg, one good eye, and little magick left. A shade sprang up behind me and I had to find new cover before the thing touched me and sucked all the life out of me.
I ran out into the chaos of combat; the Hazo chased Shannon, who hadn’t managed to kill the second Saremon. The first lay dead in a smoking pile, and Chance had turned his attention to the second mage. It made sense to deal with the enemies who died most easily, but it showed a cold, menacing side of him that sent shivers through me, even as I appreciated his expertise. The mage, however, took a page from my book and ran like hell away from Chance. Which at least meant he wasn’t lobbing spells.
“Watch out for the shade!” I croaked, but it was enough, loud enough that Chance and Shannon registered the threat.
Then inspiration struck. I dug deep in my memory, fighting past the layers that had belonged to Ninlil and found what was truly my mine—and my mother’s before me. I drew my athame and angled my head; if I was fast, I should be able to get this spell off before the shade reached me. My hands shook as I pulled the weak, thready bits of power remaining to me. They were like magickal cobwebs, clinging to my mind. The slash of darkness radiated cold, sweeping closer and closer as I shaped the spell, spindling the power until it reached sufficient mass.
With a final twirl of my athame, I released and the Hazo went blind. Shannon gave me a grateful nod and I ran from the shade with as much speed as I could muster. Exhaustion hammered at the back of my eyes, burned in my muscles. I don’t see how we can win this. But we’d fight, until there was nothing left.
The enraged warrior demon charged blindly and slammed into a wall. Impact knocked it down, but I couldn’t watch for long. Oz had summoned the shade to deal with me, so it hunted me relentlessly through room. I kited it, but I had no damage spells to use against it. Ninlil had been the queen of those; my mother hadn’t used her powers that way.
Come on, I screamed silently. Wake up. Greydusk is dead because you’re a coward. Don’t let us die too.
Oz was casting again. He had to be tired as well, but he still had tricks up his sleeve. I dodged away from another icy burst, conscious of the shade closing the distance between us. If my throat hadn’t hurt so much, I’d have trash-talked him, but apart from the blind Hazo growling with rage and beating the hell out of a statue, the room was more or less silent.
Shannon slid up beside me, breathing hard. Her blade gleamed red from where she’d slashed the mage. “Do we honestly have a chance here?”
“Yeah,” I lied. “Watch out!”
Then I relocated again in a slow, lopsided gait, leading the shadow away from her. How the hell could I kill this thing? While I maneuvered I kept pillars and fountain between Oz and me, frustrating him. Finally he shouted, “Give up, Binder! I’ll be kind. Think of how much we could learn from you.”
“Like you did my father? Fuck you.” At first I wasn’t sure my damaged voice carried to him, but his answering snarl said it did.
Shannon took the second mage down. Busy fleeing from Chance, the Saremon didn’t even see her poised with her sword. She chopped him neatly across the middle; she lacked the strength to cleave, but the gut wound dropped him, and Chance finished him with a single punch. The mage’s face…melted.
At last, the demon queen stirred from her grief. She looked out from my eyes and saw the shade, the Hazo preparing to charge, and Oz deploying another spell. Her reflexes took over and they saved me from a bolt of acidic darkness. I dove wide and the energy hammered a statue behind me. The great stone beast sizzled and fell, breaking into chunks that smoked and flaked into dust.
“Chance, take the shade,” I ordered. He’d dealt with them successfully before, using his gloves. Fortunately Oz couldn’t summon and control more than one; his reserves must be running low also. Otherwise we might not win this.
Suddenly I was sure we would. I had a battle plan, one that was hers, and mine. Ours. She was back, and I was stronger. The imperative filled my head. This wasn’t defeat; this was an obstacle, nothing more. We’d kill these two pretenders and then retreat to heal up and regroup at my mountain fortress. In time, we’d return. Without Oz to lead them, the other castes would fall on their knees. I’d break the back of the resistance here and return triumphant. Even my pain and weariness lessened.
“Shannon, distract the Hazo.”
She cut me a look as if to say, Are you crazy, and then I nudged my purse on the ground nearby. Butch popped out of the bag.
“You too,” I told the dog. “Run around. Bark. Make some noise. Don’t let the big monster step on you.”
Butch crawled out of my bag, quivering, but his ears went up and he bounded away, his tiny, fierce yip sounding. I couldn’t watch how Chance was doing against the shadow. Head down, I ran for Oz, as fast as my bad leg would carry me. I wove around the statues and columns, ducking and rolling away from his spells. They came slower and slower, more time between them. He was tired, and I’d finish him.
Athame in hand, I charged and he fell back. “You’re not strong enough—”
His empty words died as I sank the blade into his side. His eyes widened when I realized what I was doing. Not a killing stroke, but a draining one. The demon blade served as a conduit, and I forced the last flicker of my power in through the weapon and latched on to the magick he had left. Then I pulled with every ounce of will.
He screamed and scrabbled frantically at the athame, but his strength faded as I suctioned his energy. Dark, tainted magick unfurled in my veins, revitalizing me. I held him pinned until his eyes fluttered shut and he sagged to the ground. For good measure, I cut his throat in a decisive slash and then I spun back to the battle in time to see the shadow explode into icy fragments at Chance’s hand.
Butch circled the giant Hazo, yapping ferociously and nipping at his toes. If you’ve ever seen someone try to step on a cockroach and fail—well, yeah. Despite the dire situation, I smiled. From behind cover, Shannon threw chunks of stone at the beast. The blindness was starting to wear off, but the demon didn’t have complete peripheral vision yet. Chance whispered the command word for fire, his gloves obeyed, and he flanked the Hazo smoothly.
He unleashed a flurry of blows, searing the creature’s hide. This Hazo took longer to catch fire because of its scaly hide and lack of clothing. And this one, as I viewed it with my witch sight, was layered in protective runes, courtesy of the now-deceased Oz. Unfortunately, his wards didn’t die when he did. I set to unraveling them, but it was slow going.
Shannon saw that Chance had the demon’s attention, dropped her rocks, drew her blade and rushed into battle. The Hazo swung by reflex and caught her in the abdomen. The blow sent her spinning back and she hit the ground hard.
I abandoned my work on the protections and ran over to see how badly she was hurt. “Shan?”
“I’m fine,” she wheezed. “Well, maybe not fine. But I’ll live. Help Chance.”
I nodded. “Butch, get out of there. He can see you now.”
The little dog leapt away, bounding in and out of piles of debris. I drew on stolen magick to craft a dark, insidious curse. The demon queen wouldn’t permit any harm to her beloved; and when Chance took a claw in the side, utter rage filled my head.
With a snarl in demontongue, I unleashed hell upon the Hazo. From the moment my spell hit, its blood bubbled in its veins, growing hotter and hotter with the fury of hellfire, until steam leaked out its ears, its eyes cooked in its head, and ichor ran out its ursine nostrils. The demon screamed in anguish, and Chance sprang for
the final blow. He whirled in a snap kick, followed by a hammer-fist strike so fierce it crushed the demon’s nose back into its skull. It fell back with a heavy thud, and clouds of dust swirled around us.
“We did it,” Shannon said in a tone etched in disbelief.
Chance nodded. “Now let’s find the portal and get the hell out of here.”
Exit, Stage Death
“First I look at your wound,” I corrected.
He grumbled but let me peel away his shirt. It was a bloody rake, but not deep. The blood had already clotted, leaving a messy slash along his flank. I hated seeing the damage, but it wasn’t life-threatening.
“How am I?”
“Gorgeous. Amazing. Mine.” I raised up on tiptoes to kiss him. “And you’ll be fine, albeit with some interesting new scars.”
“You’ve got some too, now.”
“Other places besides my hands.” I only had the flower pentacle there now. “Does that mean I’m a real warrior?”
“A veritable badass.”
Yeah, relief was definitely making us loopy. I drove back the awareness of the price Greydusk paid to get us this far. Images of the Imaron haunted me. He had been a true friend from the first, even when I had been frightened of him. From the beginning, he behaved with honor. I didn’t deserve his loyalty or his sacrifice. Ninlil, the demon queen who abandoned us in our hour of need, deserved it even less.
Shannon turned with a worried look. “I hear the next wave coming for us.”
“Right. I’m on it.” I limped over and closed the door, and then in quick, practiced motions, I set the barrier in place, using most of the magick I’d stolen from Oz. “We can’t afford another fight. We’re all injured and I have no more juice.”
“Agreed. Which portal do we take?” Chance paced away from the door.
From outside came the unmistakable sound of a Hazo troop. After four blows, it splintered and they slammed into my field. With dawning fear, I saw there were twenty of them. There was no way in hell we’d win that fight. We had as long as my shield lasted to find the portal and bug out of here.
