by Laura Abudo
“Fear!” Glory shouted. “Like Kel said before. They are scaring us so we don’t fight. Well I’m not afraid. I’m not going to let them do it.”
A powerful crack of lightning forced them all to jump in their saddles and Amias grinned at her as he hoisted himself up onto his. “Well, I’m a little afraid,” he said. “But with you next to me I feel safe.” The men chuckled as the group once again advanced south.
A long thin bay lay far ahead. Amias told them they’d arrive late in the afternoon. The road they followed ran along the Isthmus. It was a narrow passage of land between the bulk of Danycia and the Verdera peninsula, rocky and tree covered. If the Kusira women were on the Verdera Peninsula they would be forced to exit through the isthmus to get to their ships. To the west of the isthmus was another bay that led eventually to Brynntown two days beyond. The Siri would have sailed into the western bay to meet up with the King’s armies.
Less people were on the road now, the bulk of them having passed going the other way or into hiding. They could see wagons and riders heading inland far off into the distance, going cross country, which was probably the safest route.
Marshalls raced south at a steady pace as the afternoon wore on. Some of the faster cavalry from the forces behind had caught up. Officers shared news and reports with Amias. They balked at seeing Coral and the girls among them but Captain Doran informed them he was following King’s orders. The army was going to march in from the road as support for the men who were already along the eastern coast. Amias was asked to circle around west to the bay. He would meet the Siri and others coming in on ships to prevent the Kusira women from escaping toward Brynntown on the mainland. He agreed.
Leaving the road, the Marshalls galloped across the grasslands. More thunder rumbled from afar and with the sun lowering to the west they could start to see flashes of light against the dark rise of the tree covered peninsula.
Scouts waved them down then let them pass. They stopped at a stream to water the horses and grab a quick bite to eat. Pearl’s skirts still held the small boy’s blood stains so Coral tried to rinse it to no avail. The journey cross country took longer since they had to sweep west then south again but they finally arrived with the sun leaving long shadows across the ground. A mass of men, soldiers, were arming up, getting ready to march east. Captain Amias met with a General who issued orders to find the Siri. They’d been asking for him.
The Siri had been posted all along the western side of the isthmus. Captain Amias, Kel and Coral dismounted to meet with one of their leaders. He stood a foot taller than Kel and Amias and towered over Coral. They bowed to each other as the man beckoned them over and pointed at the rise of land before them.
“The witches are trying to make it over this lower land to the ships further east. They are trapped. They use the storms to attack your men and distract them. My people have gone in.”
A deafening roar hit them, shaking each of them as they stood covering their ears. The sky lit up with brilliant white bolts of lightning. The Siri leader shook his head then told them, “They are trying my patience.”
A screech nearby spun Coral around in panic. Glory jumped up and down racing off into the crowd. Coral bounded after her, followed closely by Kel. With tears streaming down her face they found Glory in the arms of a tall slender girl. Krisa.
“Oh, thank the gods you are safe!” Coral called out, hugging her and not letting her go. Kel squeezed Krisa’s shoulder and shook hands with Pat, who stood over her. “We’ve missed you so much.”
“They won’t let me go stop them,” Krisa pouted, fingering a long machete-like blade hanging from her waist. She wore a dark green and brown uniform of sorts, a quilted breast covering with short trim jacket and dark trousers.
“Not without us!” Pearl declared appearing behind Coral.
They had only a few moments to visit before Captain Amias Doran appeared with the Siri leader, who barked orders to a group of his men. The Marshalls were to ride across the isthmus to the eastern coast of the peninsula. The land at the isthmus, they were explained, was a wide expanse of sandy beach that led up to boulders and a hill overlooking the sea. The witches were in the hills trying to get to the beaches. Their ships had spewed out their armies fighting the King’s men. The women were trying to reach them to assist or to seek escape. The Marshalls were to join the others already patrolling that coast in an attempt to block the Kusira women from getting through.
Pat and Krisa joined them. Their horses pounded across the grassy land as lightning and thunder rang about them. Most of the storms were concentrated further east where the main battles raged along the shore. Thunder rumbled so loudly it was hard to hear each other if they yelled. They suspected the storms originated from the Sisters in the hills of the peninsula and the Siri hadn’t yet found them.
A crack, a bolt of lightning straight ahead produced screams from patrolmen. Another blaze hit nearby. Amias shook his head and motioned with his hand to change direction and head straight for the hills of the peninsula. It wasn’t safe out on the beach, exposed with no cover. It wasn’t entirely safe to head straight into the lion’s mouth either, but at least they’d be able to conceal themselves.
Upon entering the trees beyond the rocky slope, Krisa and Pat swung off their horses and disappeared into the trees. Coral protested her disappearance but Amias held her arm back. He leaned in close and told her, “Trust her to do her job. She has been training.”
She nodded helplessly scanning the trees for any signs of movement. They all dismounted, securing the horses. Thunder finally broke with a lingering female scream. Then silence. Kel breathed a sigh of relief. The trees were not dense enough to be impassable but a hindrance to searching for danger. Another scream issued from across the island. The Siri were effective.
The Sisters were in trouble. They were trapped. They were being hunted. The ships were too far and their men, their soldiers were battling far away unable to provide passage to them. To Amias the only practical tactic was for the sisters to find each other and force their way through. And that would be right into their path.
From behind came the roar of angry voices as the fighters on the shore moved closer. Enemy ships attempting to move toward the peninsula were dispatching soldiers up onto the beach close by. From the trees ahead, along the rocky slope ran a Kusira woman, trying to make it to the beach. Denon cocked his bow, holding it rigid to take aim, but never shot. Solid air forced movement from them as she ran, stumbling along the beach and into the waves. The girls all collapsed into a heap, followed by Coral and the men. They rose and turned to peer into the trees for the Sister who had frozen them. There were many, staring at them with wide eyes of fear and now surprise. Denon let loose his arrow on the running woman. She fell face first into the swell of a wave. The others dashed out of the trees, tumbling over the boulders, tripping on their skirts throwing lightning bolts, sizzling into the sky and ground near them. Denon took aim again but they were not easy targets. The Marshalls didn’t leave the trees to chase them. They were too far.
Through the trees Coral saw more Kusira Sisters huddled in fear, watching the first group trying to run for freedom. A dark form appeared behind one, grabbed her by the hair, tilting her head back, and sliced through her throat with a machete. Three more were taken down similarly by other dark forms. The Siri.
The women who made it to the water and the protection of their men regrouped behind the soldiers. They didn’t retreat to the boats but stood forging storms. The great roars of giant beasts only formed in nightmares boomed across the sky in waves. White hot blasts rained down on the King’s soldiers along the beach issuing black smoke and a burning flesh smell that sickened Coral.
“We have to stop them!” Pearl shouted over the noise of battle. She held her small hatchet in her hand, though turned with tears to Coral, unsure what to do.
Glory stepped forward. She stared at the women among the Kusira soldiers. Hatred and anger grew in her eyes. She roared along w
ith the thunder. A great sweep of both her arms pulled way back over her head forced the great streaks and flashes of light and electricity to follow her, bending, stretching toward the Marshalls on the hill. With a howling screech of fury she flung her arms forward, releasing the tension on the lightning like a slingshot. An almost solid column of electric fire erupted among the enemy. Burnt bodies fell into the waves, Kusira sisters, who weren’t dead fell onto hands and knees, trying to crawl away, most into the hands of the King’s soldiers.
An eerie hush fell over the beach, interrupted by the injured crying out. The thunder died. The surviving fighters stared at the small girl and her entourage perched on boulders on the hillside. Glory still radiated sparks of light in the dimming dusk after pulling a stormful of lightning toward her. She licked both her palms, smoothed her hair down and muttered, “Awful static.”
Pearl cheered at Glory and hugged her. Both girls dashed into the woods, Coral calling after them as she followed. Amias and the Marshalls checked the dead Sisters the Siri had dispatched into the underworld. They searched the trees. More Sisters were found, most huddled in fear. Others were simply bodies already hunted.
Amias called out to Coral, having lost sight of her. Kel was on the trail of Pearl and Glory, who were sticking together hand in hand as they ran through the woods. Denon motioned to Amias to his left, so he dashed off in fear she’d been separated from them. He emerged from the trees into a path that ran onto the beach at the lower end and up into the trees at the other. Coral stood facing a Kusira Sister standing ten paces from her. The woman looked like she was pleading with Coral but he was too far to hear and although he yelled for her neither woman responded. The Sister fell to her knees then screamed as she lurched sideways then back and out of sight. Coral stepped forward, looked back at him and held her hand up as if to stop him from coming forward. She too, slid sideways and then forward into nothingness. Amias’ cry penetrated the woods. He ran down the path to where she’d been, begging the gods to allow him passage. He screamed at them, fought with them in his mind when they tried to speak, fell onto his knees.
Kel and the others broke through the trees at a run. Krisa ran down the path, Pat in tow.
Chapter 19
God-Smiters
Coral had stepped onto the path following the sound of crying. The Kusira woman was running down toward the beach but stopped when she saw a figure emerge behind her from the corner of her eye. She stared in fear.
“I just want to go,” she pleaded.
“We can’t send you back,” Coral told her.
“I saw…back there,” she cried. “That’s not…not of my god.”
“No, it is of our gods.”
“He is going to be angry. He wanted this land.”
“He can’t have it.”
“Take me to your gods, please,” the woman begged, falling forward onto her knees. “They will have mercy if they know what he...”
The woman screamed. Coral watched as the Sister got pulled one way then the other, disappearing into the gods’ world. Though it wasn’t right. It wasn’t her gods’ world. It wasn’t grey and opaque. It was ruddy brown. The Sister’s image had jolted into a liquid muddy brown world. Coral looked behind her to see Amias advancing. She held her hand up to stop him in case he would try to stop her. She needed to find out what was happening. With concentration on that brown smudge on the world the Kusira had left behind she pushed herself, forced her way after the woman.
Coral’s feet landed into what felt like thick syrup. It was putrid, filthy.
A voice growled at the woman as she writhed on the floor in agony, screaming. “You want to abandon me for another, do you? You forsake me because you lose a battle?” Her form rose to stand, out of her control. She gasped a rattling breath then simply dissolved into a mist of red that hung in the air for seconds then exploded. She was absorbed into the reddish mud of the world. Coral stood perfectly still feigning no control. The voice took form. He wasn’t opaque. He was more liquid than solid. He slid toward her in his muddy world, tall and slim, hairless, with well-defined muscles. He wore only a wrap around his waist to his knees. He walked around her, studying her.
“And who are you?” he demanded. “What are you?”
“I am a representative from the gods of Danycia,” she stated, showing no fear, though she trembled inside expecting to be vaporized any moment.
“A representative…,” he repeated. “Why are you in my world?”
“I was curious.”
“Curious?” he demanded raising his voice. “You are interfering.”
She didn’t respond. She thought of the others, Amias was undoubtedly worried he’d lost her. He would blame himself for allowing the kiss. How she loved that kiss. And the men. They would blame themselves if she was gone, for not having protected her. The three precious girls would charge ahead and fight a mighty battle as fiercely as any veteran soldier faced by the enemy to get her back.
“The man,” the god whispered in her ear, much too close for her comfort. “He doesn’t touch you. You are a woman and he doesn’t touch you.”
She thought of his hands holding hers and his scruffy chin against her skin.
“You can stay here. I’ll touch you,” he told her, running a liquid hand down her back. “I’ll give you anything you want, power, riches, teach you things your gods haven’t taught you. Why do they teach those children when they can have you? You are special, aren’t you? That’s why you came here. I can give you more than they can. What is it you want?”
Before her formed an arch. Through the muck and mire of this god’s world she could see her people. Her man, her girls, her friends.
“What is that?” this god raged beside her. “What are you? Get out.”
Coral stepped forward. The god gaped at her ability to move. She focused on Amias still on his knees in anguish at her disappearance. She focused on the three girls standing around him. And with a forceful pull she yanked them into this god’s world with her.
He yowled in rage at the intruders. Amias stood up slowly, turning his head to seek her form in the mud. Glory and Pearl rushed to her side, Pearl clutching her hatchet. Krisa melted into the murk beyond where Amias stood. The god raised a hand and pointed at Amias.
“What are you doing here? What are you people?”
Coral stepped forward again and stated, “Representatives of the gods of Danycia.”
He narrowed his eyes at her and spat, “There are no gods of Danycia. You want to be a goddess? Is that what you want? Only I can do that for you.”
The god grabbed Coral by the back of her head and forced her against him. She felt her body enter a thicker muck that caressed her entire body at once, like a thousand snakes writhing against her. More solid parts of him probed her. Fingers on her skin, touching her bones, her organs. Tongues sought out her insides. His voice, like a whisper in her head, “He doesn’t touch you. Let me touch you and you will be my goddess. You are powerful. We can rule everything.”
Coral dropped. She slid through him to the ground. The god staggered backward as he faced Amias, who had his palm up facing the god. She shuddered and stood, backing up, repulsed by what she’d felt of this god. She could barely contain the contents of her stomach with the thought he may have forced himself on her before Amias could have loved her. If he had taken her, she would be gone forever.
The god grinned at her with lust, knowing what she thought. He stretched a hand in her direction and she could feel it, though she was a dozen steps away, traveling up her thigh. It grasped her thigh. It stopped.
Under the god’s feet appeared a black pool of blood. Black stains ran down his wrap dripping into the growing puddle under him. His eyes and neck bulged with pain as he teetered forward, retching long strings of saliva. From the muck beside him a small form dashed forward. With a great wide arc the blade of a machete sliced through the air and into his neck, sliding through with ease. The pieces of his body fell. From the decapitated he
ad flowed more black blood into the filth around them. A strand of putrid yellowish green waste floated up in front of them like a snake about to strike. Glory swept her arms back several times, pulling it into itself, forming a ball. She paused staring at it.
“Glory,” she whispered to an unasked question. And it exploded into millions of vibrant red, pink and orange dust particles that shimmered then died.
The muddy world shifted. It felt as though it started to drain, making them heavy, pulling them downward. Coral grabbed onto Amias’ arm and pulled the girls into her skirts. She yanked everyone as hard as she could past the mud and finally back into the path, the fresh air, and the arms of the Marshalls. They rushed forward to help their staggering forms.
Covered still in mud, Amias pulled Coral to him in the tightest embrace he could without hurting her. In her ear he whispered desperately, “I thought I lost you.”
“You almost did,” she told him honestly and heard him let out a sharp whine of distress.
Amias stepped out of the trees at the boulders leading to the beach of the isthmus. The horses stomped in excitement at recognizing their riders. Coral and the girls looked out over the mess on the beach; bodies, blood, pits carved by lightning. Men still clashed farther away where a boat tried to come to land. Coral stared at a spot on the sand where perhaps thirty Kusira women were gathered. They all sat, silent and shaking, surrounded by Siri warriors.
Coral stepped forward. The girls followed. The women watched them. Into the water they walked, letting the mud wash away from their skin, from their dresses and hair. Amias joined them. They scrubbed each other clean. Amias splashed Pearl in play and she ran up to the beach laughing.
She turned to taunt him but stopped and the smile left her face. Coral spun to look behind her. The mud they’d washed off had gathered and rose up out of the water into a twenty foot image of the god.
