Beastress Inferno

by Mark Albany

  “Why and how the fuck would I understand that, Cyron?” I asked. Here we were, distracting the monster Cyron had become. If Norel was going to do anything to sabotage his work, it would have to be now.

  “I will tell you, but first, I think we need a bit of privacy,” Cyron said, smiling as he looked around at Aliana and Norel. They were charging forward, blades gleaming in the brightness of the lightning flickering above us, but as Cyron snapped his fingers, I felt myself being pulled forward like a puppet on strings and into a blue sphere that suddenly formed around Cyron and I.

  “I was hoping we could have a little chat,” he said, smiling.

  9

  I looked around, trying to make out what was happening. There was a blue orb formed around Cyron and me, and it was just standing there. There were no runes glowing, no other sense that magic was being used and yet, as I looked beyond the translucent sphere, I could see the world had gone almost completely still.

  No, not entirely. I looked up and saw the lightning still flashing, but so slowly that I could actually see the individual arcs spreading across the sky, jumping from cloud to cloud. I looked over at Aliana and Norel, noting that they were at a complete standstill. Even the golems were utterly motionless beyond the borders of… Whatever this was.

  “How are you doing this?” I asked. For the moment, my need to kill the man was abated in favor of my curiosity.

  “I wouldn’t want to keep you here all day,” Cyron said with a small quirk of his lips. “But don’t worry. I haven’t caused your friends any harm yet. Suffice it to say that through a technique that is difficult to master and yet easy to perform, I have been able to slow time outside of this little bubble to a crawl, allowing you and I to speak without interruption.”

  I took a deep breath. While he was in here, he wasn’t attacking Norel when she was in a vulnerable position trying to identify and disrupt his plans, so even if my stalling tactic wasn’t quite going according to plan, I had to keep pushing it.

  “Well then,” I said, keeping my sword pointed toward him, reminding myself that he was the one I’d stolen it from. “What would you like to talk about before I kill you?”

  “To business, then,” Cyron said, putting on a smile. “You know by now that Vis acted on my orders when he murdered your parents and brought you under his care to be one of his familiars, with less than stellar results, yes?”

  I gritted my teeth, feeling my blood starting to boil. “You wanted this to be a short conversation, then?”

  Cyron chuckled. “Your parents were simple peasants. They owned a farm just beyond the edges of the city. They were poor, and the harvest hadn’t brought in enough to feed them through a harsh and early winter. They borrowed money from me, and when they could not repay it, I cast a spell invoking the law of surprise, telling your father that what he found and did not expect when he returned home would be offered to me in payment. Your father found your mother with child, bearing you, of course.”

  I blinked. I’d heard of the law of surprise, an oblique way of saying that one had made a deal with the devil. It certainly fit in this case.

  “Your parents refused to pay me what was owed, Grant,” Cyron continued. “They hid you away, and your father tried to pass off a stray cat’s kittens as what he had found. When he called on the Lancers to protect him, I knew that I could not take you myself. Vis proved to be rather useless in the action, having to kill both your parents to bring you to his abode.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” I asked, trying to control the impulse to attack the man and cut his head from his shoulders. There was no telling what would happen if he died while this spell was intact. I could be caught in this limbo state forever, for all I knew.

  “To show you that I did you a favor, Grant!” Cyron snapped, shaking his head. “You were powerful, more powerful than any mage for a hundred years, and yet your parents would have had you digging beets out of the ground and milking goats. After seeing everything you’ve become here and now, are you really complaining?”

  I stared at him. “Are you really telling me I should be thanking you for taking me away from parents who loved me, killing them, and tearing me from a life of peace and tranquility where I wouldn’t have been a slave to a bootlicker like Vis? In robbing me of the life I should have had, you were doing me a favor?” I struggled to control my anger as I worked my way through saying that, my voice growing from a low rumble to a barely contained roar.

  Cyron twisted his face. “Well, say anything in that tone of voice and of course it’s going to come off poorly. But in sum, yes. Through my actions, you were allowed to be everything you could achieve. Yes, if you had been less problematic for Vis to train, things might have gone a bit differently—but why are we talking about the past when the future holds a much brighter picture?”

  I was trembling. I could feel it. Every inch of me wanted to skewer the man, and while the fact that I wasn’t was a testament to how much my self-control had improved over the past days, Cyron could still clearly see my anger.

  “I know you loved your parents, Grant,” he finally said, hanging his head. “Their sacrifice, while necessary, was a heavy loss to me as well. And you should know that as my powers have grown, so has the breadth of what I can do for those who follow me. Those lackeys, do you really think they have any kind of devotion for me? Even their fear falls short of fully bringing them to purpose. No, I have to show them that what I have to offer is something they’ve always wanted, nay, needed in their lives. And I can give it to them. Give it to you, Grant. Your heart yearns for family, true family, and I can bring them to you.”

  I looked up at him, surprised at feeling hot tears starting to touch my eyes. I quickly brushed them away before he could see them.

  “You don’t care about my parents,” I said. “You never did.”

  “Of course, I didn’t,” Cyron said with a chuckle, rolling his eyes. “I honestly thought that knowing the kind of fate I helped you escape from might make you more amenable to my point of view, but if you wish it, I can bring your parents back from the afterlife.”

  He flicked his hand toward the back of the orb, and two figures came through the broken gates from inside the castle. They were moving slowly, but as they approached, I found myself walking over toward them, my sword hanging from numb fingers as I narrowed my eyes. No, it was impossible. There was no power in the world that could bring the dead back to life.

  “In the life I’ve lived, Grant, I‘ve found that there is nothing in the world beyond the grasp of someone who has the will to take it,” Cyron said, seeming to read my mind as he moved next to me.

  It was impossible. I knew that. And yet… Old memories came to mind as the two figures came closer. A man with a hooked nose, broken in a fight I remembered him coming home from. A plain mother with a full, homely figure and freckles on the bridge of her nose, her red hair coming down in a forest of curls. Hard-working folk who didn’t much mind the fact that they had to work hard for their keep, as long as the peace they loved was part of the bargain.

  Old memories that I thought were gone forever came back to the fore of my mind as they stepped closer, standing just outside the bubble. I reached out to touch them, but Cyron caught my hand before I could. I snapped an angry look at him, and he shook his head.

  “Touch the edge of the bubble and it explodes with enough force to kill us both, Grant,” Cyron warned. “But your parents remain part of the bargain. Everything you’ve ever dreamed is in there as well. Over my many, many years on this earth, I have acquired powers that many would consider to be unnatural. But no less real. All the promises of riches, power, comfort and luxuries are included as well, but just think about it, Grant. Your parents, alive again, loving their powerful and successful mage of a son as you provide them with all the creature comforts they could ever desire. At the age they were, I think they could have had more children as well. Brothers and sisters, Grant—and you can bring them back.”

  I sm
iled, tilting my head. I could feel the tears running down my cheeks freely now as I closed my eyes.

  “There were never any brothers or sisters in store for me, Cyron, not of blood anyway,” I said, trying to keep my voice from cracking. “My mother was barren. Something that would have condemned her to a life of selling her body had my father not married her. He knew that she could bear him no children. They said I was their miracle.”

  “And you can be again,” Cyron said. I could feel the manipulation in his voice, hear the silver on his tongue and the honey in his words, but I couldn’t help the temptation. The primal need for a family that was torn from my grasp, suddenly within my reach once more. Nothing alive wouldn’t feel that call.

  Although some could resist it.

  I gritted my teeth, inhaling deeply as I turned to look at Cyron. “That’s what you’ll never understand. About family and love. It’s always going to be a concept that calls to a man, appeals to him, and I’m no different. But family isn’t just some arbitrary name you assign to faces you recognize. Family is those you care for. Love. And if protecting those I love in this world means letting my parents remain in their graves, resting forever, I can make my peace with that.”

  Cyron tilted his head, the pleasant look on his face fading, and I could once again see the marks of a man who had carved runes into his skin with what looked like a skinning knife.

  “Gods, I wish you had just said yes or no,” Cyron said, flicking his hands. “I do so abhor heroic speeches.”

  I turned when I saw movement from the corner of my eye. My parents, or their figures, stepped into the bubble. While they held their form, their eyes had gone dark, showing no reflection, and no sign of there even being any sockets inside. Just blackness as they stepped through. Evil smiles played across what had been kind faces only moments ago as I saw a flicker in my vision. For a moment, the figures of my parents disappeared, replaced by massive black shadows seeping toward me like oil.

  And then they were back to the figures I recognized.

  “Kill him,” Cyron said with a chuckle. “And then deal with the elves. I have no real preference for how, but I do want it to be memorable. The elves, not him.”

  My parents nodded, under his sway, and started to advance toward me.

  I took a step backward, a hint of panic touching me. Although I knew these were some kind of dark spirits preying on my imagination to make me more vulnerable, there was still the fact that I couldn’t raise a blade against the forms they wore. They knew that, I realized, and were smiling as they advanced on me. Cyron had turned and was walking toward the edge of the bubble, assuming I was going to die.

  There was no sense in sitting here waiting for that, I realized. I needed to do something, and it had to be now.

  I took a step backward, feeling something resisting my next step. I watched as Cyron turned to see what I was doing, a moment of panic filling his eyes as I closed mine, taking another step into the bubble. I could feel Cyron reaching out, whispering some words of power as he gestured and pinned my feet to the ground.

  I looked down at the binds on me, shaking my head.

  “You still don’t get it, do you?”

  “Get what?” Cyron asked, loosening his grip.

  “The reason why Vis was never able to train me,” I replied, stepping free of the man’s grasp and leaning back. I could feel a bright hot pain touching my back. “You will, though.”

  At that moment, the world exploded into a bright expanse of pain and light.

  10

  The light disappeared, but the pain didn’t. It remained, screaming and searing into my back as I groaned, feeling a lack of energy to pull myself up for what felt like forever. Opening my eyes felt like a chore, but I knew I’d have to do it eventually. Cyron hadn’t been a dream, and neither had the shadow things that had taken the forms of my dead parents. I needed to come back. I needed to break whatever the damn spell was that was keeping Aliana and Braire stuck in time. I needed to come back. I needed to help them.

  I groaned again. The pain in my back was slowly dissipating, telling me that at least it wasn’t going to be something permanent, like the runes on my hand. I hoped, anyway. The pain disappearing could also mean I was dying. That wasn’t something I wanted Aliana, Norel, or even Braire to have to handle. It was still early in the fight against Cyron and we couldn’t afford to be down anyone.

  I shook my head, finally summoning the strength to open my eyes. When I did, I was surprised to find that I was lying on my stomach, and I could feel a pair of hands pressed against my back. Feminine hands, I realized, and they were touching bare skin, too. I could have sworn I’d been wearing a shirt.

  I turned over, looking up to see Norel standing over me, the healing power that I remembered as being a soft, pearly color receding back into her fingers.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, lightly touching my face.

  “I…I think I am,” I said, shaking my head. The weakness was starting to disappear along with the pain and the brightness, showing off the destruction that my little stunt in Cyron’s bubble had caused. Most of the square was gone, leaving nothing but a massive crater. Most of the front of the fortress had been torn to pieces as well.

  “Wait,” I said, quickly jumping to my feet and looking around. “Where are Aliana and Braire?”

  “We’re here,” Aliana called, waving to call my attention over to where she and Braire were standing, looking over the destruction from a safe distance. Barely.

  “What happened?” Norel asked. “Aliana and Norel told me that Cyron pulled you into a massive blue bubble and a second later it exploded, throwing you from it, badly wounded.”

  “Thanks for, you know, helping with that,” I said, leaning in to kiss her gently on the cheek. “I’m not sure. Cyron said he did something that was able to stop or slow time down, letting us talk. He tried to turn me to his side. I refused, he got angry, and things exploded. I’m not fully sure what happened more than flashes of memory.”

  “Allow me to fill in the gaps!” I heard a massive, booming voice echo across the sky above us like a crack of thunder. I looked up to see Cyron about twenty feet overhead, frozen in place as the massive thunderclouds started to spin around him. It was a truly terrifying sight, seeing him manipulate the elements like that. I could see him glowing, every rune on his skin glowing visibly, painfully.

  “Fuck!” Braire snapped as she and Aliana rushed over to where Norel and I were still standing.

  “What’s he doing?” I asked, tilting my head. “Why isn’t he attacking us?”

  “He’s gathering power for a strike,” Aliana said softly, looking up at him. The wind had picked up again, tossing her long hair around haphazardly.

  “He’s pulling power from the clouds,” Braire said, looking afraid for the first time since I’d seen her. I was starting to feel rather anxious about this whole situation myself.

  “With that kind of power, he could blow this whole city off the face of the map!” Norel said, covering her face as the wind’s intensity grew to the point of a violent storm.

  “We need to do something!” I said, stating the obvious.

  “Any attack we send his way could detonate the power he’s already gathered,” Aliana explained. “Killing us and destroying most of the city, anyway.”

  “Why would he destroy the city?” I asked, looking around. “Isn’t it his home as well?”

  “Do you really think Cyron is capable of anything we’d consider rational thought at the moment?” Braire snapped. “Enough talk. We need to act. We need a plan.”

  “I have one,” Norel said softly. “Individually, our power isn’t enough to bring him down without consequences. But together…”

  I nodded. From the look on the sisters’ faces, I could tell they saw what I did. I had been training to be a familiar for years and years without actually believing it. I’d never thought I‘d see that training come to fruition after I had left Vis and started to use my pow
ers. It was something I’d assumed was behind me.

  Was I ready for it? I took Aliana’s and Braire’s hands in mine and closed my eyes. I still had no idea if I could do this. I had grown used to my power being difficult to control and had adapted to it, with a bit of help. Would Norel be able to do it in my stead?

  I smiled since the decision that Norel would be the one to be carrying the weight of all our power combined had been made almost instantly. Again. It wasn’t that she had volunteered, and it hadn’t been a vote she’d lost and grudgingly taken her place. The decision was unanimous and had come with the speed of people knowing and trusting each other, who knew that any mistakes now would be paid for in our blood.

  The soft chants I’d memorized from the time I’d been a child came back to me almost instantly as I felt Norel reaching through our bond. I could feel my power resisting her control for a moment but as I relaxed, she reached out and took it. Or rather, it came to her. It was an interesting feeling. Like someone taking control of your body, only a bit more intimate than that. The power each mage had reflected who they were in a way that others would only catch glimpses of during their life. In a sense, becoming someone’s familiar was the most intimate thing someone could do.

  One of the most intimate things, I mused, although I quickly chastised myself by saying that it wasn’t the time.

  Norel closed her eyes once we were all connected to her. Sometimes, when the time was right and you only had one chance, you needed to go with what you were familiar with. I could feel it as she drew the lightning from the air around her, making it more and more powerful with each moment that passed. She gritted her teeth, trying to breathe as she continued to bring the power in until I felt it build to a peak. Reaching the point that four powerful mages could attain was something of an achievement, I realized, but Norel was heavily motived. This place had been her home as well, and unlike Cyron she had no intention of seeing it a thing of the past.