by David McAfee
Dear gods, he’s fast, she thought. And I don’t even have a sword to fight with.
Caelina reached behind her back for the small dagger she kept for emergencies. The blade was only as long as her hand, but she kept it with her at all times as a last resort. That certainly seemed appropriate now. Yet even as she brought the knife to bear, the blade seemed puny and weak compared to the man-thing standing in front of her.
Jarek saw the blade and laughed.
“What kind of damage do you expect to do with that tiny thing?” he asked.
“That’s the exact same thing I thought the first time I saw your cock,” Caelina replied.
Jarek’s smile was far too smug for her liking. “I don’t recall hearing any complaints,” he said, winking.
“Perhaps because your hearing is as weak as your manhood,” she said. Caelina held up her hand, thumb and fingers an inch apart.
Jarek’s smile fell away, replaced by a toothy snarl. He launched himself forward again, this time diving at her torso. She tried to step to the side, but lost her balance when the cave floor gave a violent shake. Jarek, seemingly unaffected by the shifting stone beneath his feet, crashed into her like a wild ox, knocking her to the floor. She fell on her back and he landed on top of her. The force of the blow squeezed the breath from her body. The knife flew out of her hand and landed with a clatter a short distance away. She lay there, gasping for breath, trying to clear the stars from her vision, while Jarek pinned her arms to the floor.
“You think you are funny?” he asked. “You are dead, Caelina. You just don’t realize it yet. You were dead the moment you walked away from me.”
Caelina spat in his face. Jarek wiped the spittle from his cheek and slammed his forehead down into hers. For a moment, the whole world fell away in an empty white haze, and she could see nothing at all. When her vision returned, Jarek was on top of her, his hands locked around her wrists. She looked at his face, so twisted in anger and hate that she wondered again what she had ever seen in him. His teeth had grown longer, and they were stained with blood. How many people had he killed already?
The floor beneath them shook again, harder this time, and a rock the size of a basket broke free from the ceiling and crashed down not two feet away from Caelina’s head. Several shards of stone hit her cheek with enough force to draw blood. They struck Jarek, too, but he did not seem to feel them. The dust in the air stung her wounds like salt, but all she could think of was her terrified companion, who was not much older than her lost Filo.
She looked over at the girl, who sat huddled on the stone floor of the cavern, watching the two of them fight with wide eyed terror. Caelina wanted to hold her, keep her safe. But try as she might, she could not shake free of Jarek’s hold.
“Please,” she said, turning back to face him. “Let the child go. Do what you will with me, Jarek, but let her go. I beg you.”
“I do love it when you beg,” Jarek said. He looked over at the girl, studying her for several long moments, then back to Caelina. His smile widened, and Caelina’s heart sank.
“No,” Jarek said. “Her blood will be far too sweet to pass up. But I will do you the kindness of killing you first, so you don’t have to watch.”
“You’re a monster,” Caelina cried.
“That I am.” Jarek nodded.
With that, Jarek lowered his face to her throat and placed his lips on the flesh of her neck. It brought back unwanted memories of their time together. Why should she remember that night now, at the moment of her death? She would have preferred to remember Gareth, or Filo. Luckily the memories were driven away by pain when he bit into her flesh.
As the cave around her continued to shake and the floor beneath her bucked and wobbled, she had one final thought. If the child ran away now, she might have a chance to escape while Jarek was occupied. She couldn’t see the child, her view was blocked by Jarek’s shoulders, but she could hear her rapid breathing.
“Run, child,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “Run now.”
She could not see if the girl took her advice. Her vision was beginning to grow dim. Her limbs felt hollow and weak. Jarek’s weight, which seemed so massive and heavy, faded into a soft pressure, and even that began to dwindle. She began to feel peaceful, detached, like walking into a sweet, soft dream.
I’m coming, Filo, she thought. Mama is coming…
Then the pressure was gone, as if it had never been. From a great distance, she heard a cry of pain and wondered who was hurt. The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Could it be Filo? She didn’t think you were supposed to feel pain in the afterlife, but then again she’d never died before, so she wasn’t sure. Then her own pain came crashing back. The pain in her chest, in her throat, and something new: a sharp pain in her left wrist.
Caelina opened her eyes and saw the stone cavern again. But Jarek was not on top of her. She tried to raise herself up, but a sharp pain in her wrist stopped her. She looked over at her left hand and saw that it was red and bloody. A large rock several times bigger than her head lay next to it. Had it fallen from the ceiling?
She heard a scuffle and looked to her right. There she saw the girl, backed up against a stone wall. The child held a large rock in her hand, which was cocked back as if to throw while Jarek approached her, snarling. There was something in Jarek’s back. Caelina squinted in the fading torchlight and saw that it was her knife. The girl must have snuck up behind Jarek and plunged the blade into his back, not knowing that he could not be killed by such means.
The child is brave enough, she supposed. But now she is going to die.
Unless Caelina did something to stop it.
Caelina rolled onto her right side and pushed herself to her knees with her good hand. The movement made her dizzy, and she had to pause a moment to battle the vertigo. The bucking and shaking of the floor beneath her made it that much more difficult to concentrate.
I don’t have much time, she realized.
Jarek had almost reached the child, who whimpered and made ready to throw the rock, which looked puny to Caelina’s eyes. He is going to kill her, she thought. Right in front of me. Somehow, she pushed herself to her feet. She wobbled, then braced her good hand against the wall to steady herself. After she regained her balance, she stared at Jarek. Toothy, fast, strong, with claws on the ends of his fingers. Caelina stared at her one good hand. She didn’t even have her knife anymore. What could she do to help?
Jarek had reached the girl by now. He grabbed her tattered shirt and pulled her close. The girl screamed, and Caelina started forward. The ground gave a particularly violent jerk, and she lost her balance, crashing to the floor in a painful heap.
No, she thought. “No!” She was too weak. Too far away. Gods help her, she was going to have to watch that little girl die and there was nothing she could do about it.
Then someone else entered the chamber, barely visible in the sifting dust and rolling rocks. The newcomer walked in slowly, careful of the bucking ground and falling stones, and walked into the center of the rough hallway. It was hard to see much detail in the dim light, but Caelina thought it looked like Galle. Then the person took a step toward Jarek, and at that moment a break in the dust cloud revealed her face.
Caelina blinked. It was Galle! And she did not look pleased to see her estranged husband.
Galle sprang forward, slamming into Jarek’s back just as he was about to tear into the girl’s throat. Jarek fell away, barreled over by the weight of the woman who had, only a few minutes ago, tried to kill Caelina and the child.
Jarek rolled to a stop and got to his feet quickly, then looked around to see what had hit him. When his eyes settled on Galle, he frowned.
“Well this is a surprise,” he said with a sneer. “I never thought to see you again, wife.”
“Nor I you, husband,” Galle replied. “How fortunate that we found each other again, wouldn’t you say?”
A sharp whine sounded through the gloom. Caelina looked
through the dust and falling pebbles to see the girl, still tightly clutching her rock, staring wide-eyed at the two monsters in the passage. She turned to look at Galle, who stood a dozen or so paces away. Her fangs gleamed, and her glowing eyes cut through the dust like a red beacon. She was surprised to find Galle staring right back at her, the woman’s anger and pain still plain across her face.
I’m sorry, Galle, Caelina wanted to say. So sorry. But she kept the words inside. They meant so little at this point in time.
Then Galle looked over at the girl, and her face softened.
“Go, Caelina,” she said, not taking her eyes off the girl. “Take her out of here.”
“What about Jarek?”
“I was beginning to think I’d been forgotten,” Jarek said, smiling. “None of you are going anywhere.”
He moved toward Caelina, but Galle stepped between them.
“I will deal with Jarek,” Galle said in a cold, tight voice. “I owe him, and not just for his dalliance with you.”
Caelina stared back. Was this a trick? Did Galle intend to kill her as soon as her back was turned? If it was a trick, did it matter? She would die in this cavern, regardless.
The floor shook again, violent and rude. The low rumble increased in volume and tempo until Caelina had trouble hearing anything over the sound of the mountain’s rage.
“Go, I said!” Galle shouted. “You don’t have much time! Get the girl out of here. Keep her safe!”
Jarek lunged, claws extended, aiming for Galle’s throat. But Galle stepped aside and brought her knee up and into his solar plexus, knocking him aside and eliciting a grunt of pain. She then grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked him backward, tossing him away as though he weighed nothing more than a bag of fruit.
“Go, damn you!” Galle shouted as Jarek regained his feet.
Caelina looked from Jarek to Galle, then turned and sprinted toward the girl. It was hard to run across the ground, which seemed determined to knock her off her feet with every step, but soon enough she reached the child. Caelina knelt on the stone next to her and grabbed her hand.
“We need to leave, child,” she said as quietly as she could while still speaking loud enough for the girl to hear. The girl looked up, and Caelina saw the tracks her tears had made in the dust on her cheeks. Her lower lip trembled, but she did not scream.
“My name is Nona,” the girl said.
“I’m Caelina.”
The girl nodded. “I know. I heard her call you that, in the cavern earlier.” She turned her head to the pair of Bachiyr fighting behind them. “You aren’t like them, are you?”
Caelina turned her head and watched as Galle and Jarek traded blows, each one more devastating and injurious than the one before. She turned back to the girl and shook her head.
“No,” she answered. “I am not. I will keep you safe, if you will let me. Come, we have very little time.”
The girl nodded, then swallowed. She stood up, still holding Caelina’s hand, and turned her head toward the darkness of the cave. Caelina’s torch was almost out, and without it they would never find their way out of the caverns.
A loud crack sounded above them, and Caelina risked a glance at the ceiling. A huge fissure had formed, and even now rocks the size of her head were falling around them. It was long past time to go.
Caelina grabbed Nona’s hand and pulled her along, running through the caverns as fast as she dared through the falling rocks and clouds of dust while praying to any and all gods who might be listening.
Please, she implored silently. Please, just help us get out of here alive. I need to find Gareth. I need to tell him he was right. I need to tell him I’m sorry.
When she saw the light of the cave opening, she almost wept. They made it! Gods be praised, they made it! She sprinted the rest of the way, laughing and telling Nona that they were all right now, everything would be fine.
When she stepped out of the cave and got her first look at the surrounding countryside, her heart nearly fell out of her chest. She froze, trying unsuccessfully to make sense of the world around her.
The gods must be laughing very hard at me right now.
They had left the blood and darkness of the caves behind only to walk straight into the fires of the Abyss.
***
“You can’t beat me, my dear,” Jarek said. His arms were locked around Galle’s elbows, forcing her backward into the wall. “I am far stronger than you, and I have been training in combat my entire life. You are weak. You have always been weak, and worse, you are meek. Defenseless. You could not hope to defeat a crippled dog. How do you propose to beat me?”
“I seem to be doing all right,” she replied. She brought her knee up into his exposed crotch. For someone who’d been training for combat his entire life, he didn’t seem to realize he’d left himself open to a kick in the groin.
Jarek grunted and his eyes rolled upward. His grip loosened just a little, and Galle twisted, trying to break free. But Jarek’s grip tightened, and he started to laugh.
“That doesn’t hurt anymore,” he said. “Did you really think I would leave myself vulnerable like that?” He spun around, taking her with him, and bent over at the waist as she lost her feet. The two of them landed on the floor. The back of her head hit the stone with a sharp, painful jolt, and she could not help the gasp of pain that escaped her lips. Jarek laughed harder.
“You could never beat me,” he said. “You truly are a fool.”
“That I am,” she spat. “I am a fool for ever loving you, Jarek. Forget about your dalliances. I knew about them. I forgave you because I didn’t know any better. But Theron? How could you do it? How could you give me to him, knowing what he wanted from me?”
“Power,” he replied, as if the answer was obvious. “Theron was the path to power, and you were but a stone upon the path.”
Galle had expected as much. “Did you ever love me?”
“I loved your dowry,” Jarek said. “Is that so bad? I gave you everything you wanted in a husband. In return, I was able to live a life I enjoyed. It seemed like a fair trade to me.”
“What I wanted in a husband?” Galle asked. “How would you have even known what that was?”
Jarek shrugged. “I didn’t. But it didn’t matter, anyway.”
“No, I suppose not.” She twisted her arms from his grasp, taking him by surprise, and made to punch him in the face. When he tried to block, she changed course, wrapping her arms around him, much as she had on the night he’d proposed.
Jarek looked surprised, then amused. “Trying to rekindle something, my love?” he asked.
Galle shook her head. “Just holding on,” she replied. “It won’t be much longer.”
“Much longer for what?”
As if in answer, the floor bucked again, this time sending them both several feet off the ground. Jarek grunted in surprise, but Galle tightened her grip, holding on with every ounce of strength she possessed. She hoped it would be enough.
Jarek finally seemed to understand. He pushed his hands under her arms and tried to pry them loose.
“Let go!” he shouted. “Galle! Let go of me.”
“No,” she said. “You are not leaving me again, Jarek. We are staying right here.”
Jarek squirmed and rolled, but he didn’t have the leverage needed to break free. Galle might not be as strong as him, but she was strong enough. In any case, she would not need to hold on for very long.
“You see, Jarek,” Galled whispered into his ear, “I don’t need to beat you. I just need to keep you from leaving.”
“But this is crazy!” he shouted, still trying to pry her arms loose. “You will die, too!”
“Yes,” Galle admitted. She was surprised to realize she was not afraid of death. Rather, she felt a sense of relief. Soon—very soon—this would all be over.
“Why would you do this?” he asked.
“On our wedding day,” she replied, as the first of the boulders came crashing down
around them, “I promised to love and honor you until we died. Tonight, for all the gods to see, I will keep that promise.”
“No, Galle!” he shouted. “No! You can’t! You—”
The rest of his words were cut off as the ceiling gave way, burying the two of them under several thousand tons of rock.
Chapter Fifteen
BAELLA stared at the blank stone wall. The symbols had vanished. They had only been intended for a single use. Once Taras jumped through the portal, the psalm was complete. She would need to redraw the symbols in order to make another.
Taras, you sneaky bastard, she thought. He wouldn’t get far, at least. The portal led directly to her private chambers. Weak as he was, Taras would have no chance of getting past her personal guards. Although she had to admit, he had more strength left than she had imagined, considering what Theron had done to him in the cave. Still, she had chosen her guards specifically for their strength and potency. They would prove difficult for Taras even if he was at full health, which he wasn’t. He would not escape.
She couldn’t help but smile at the way the tall Roman had fooled them both into believing he was utterly helpless. To think he’d just been biding his time. Devious! And completely free of the Council’s influence. Maybe she would keep him around for a while when she returned home. He might prove useful, after all. He was a better candidate than Theron, anyway.
Of course, getting home might be a bit tricky. She had used her only vial of blood to open the last portal. She rarely carried more than one vial as it was seldom necessary to open more than one portal. They were typically a last resort, to be used when she needed a quick exit, such as now. She never made a habit of bringing others thorough with her.
She needed Bachiyr blood to redraw the symbols, and a small glass vial to keep it in. That last part was important. The end of the psalm required her to break the vessel that had stored the blood. Otherwise she would simply cut open one of her veins and redraw the symbols with her own.
