“One of the people on this ship was chosen as a sacrifice by the gods and escaped.”
Stanna laughed a second time and shook her head. “And to what end do the gods want that sacrifice now? If they have it, will they stop destroying the world?”
The creature shook with rage, its hands opening and closing, showing the vicious claws that ended each finger.
Darkraven shook her head. “Enough. Give me a name. If you have a name, perhaps we can help you. If not, leave.”
“You dare!”
Darkraven snapped her fingers and three of the men around her raised short, powerful crossbows and aimed them at the thing. “I am done. You and your damned gods have destroyed everything I own. I owe you nothing. You are not welcome here. I ‘dare?’ Yes. I do. Because I’m finished listening to you and anyone else who sets out to ruin me.”
The He-Kisshi moved. It took the distance between itself and Darkraven in a heartbeat and had the woman by her throat. The claws sank into skin and Hillar screamed in pain even as she drove a blade into the guts of the creature. Blood flowed and the thing let out a hiss as it spun toward the closest of the crossbow wielders. The bolt came from the weapon and drove through the arm of the beast, impaling the forearm and forcing the creature to let go of its captive.
Hillar fell on her ass.
The thing screeched and tried to dodge the two crossbow bolts that drove into it. One struck the darkness of the hood, and punched through the back of the creature’s head. The other struck where the heart would be on a person.
Stanna and the Bitch moved forward. The sword cut the thing open from its hip up to the neck and through the shoulder in one swing.
Hillar climbed to her feet and glared at the remains. “Bind it in ropes. Tie the ropes to an anchor. Drop the anchor into the blasted seas.”
“It’ll come back.” Stanna looked at the remains. “I cut the head off this thing before.”
“It’ll take time. By then maybe we can have this finished.”
She turned away from the dead thing as her men started to follow her orders. Stanna moved with her, the two of them ready to have another discussion about the gods knew what.
The flesh of the He-Kisshi opened up and slithered up one of the men who’d shot it with a crossbow. By the time he was opening his mouth to scream the He-Kisshi had been reborn. It was not a bloodless transformation. The guard’s body made wet noises as the thick hide of the Undying constricted over it and sealed around the surprised man’s shape.
Though she tried hard to see everything, the entire violent action was too fast. What she did see made Tully let out a scream of shock that was lost under the noises of the Undying and the mercenary alike.
“I grow weary of these games.” The Undying reached out again and this time when it grabbed at Hillar Darkraven, its claws peeled the scalp from her head like the rind off an orange.
The woman who had once owned Torema let out a shriek of agony as the blood flowed down her face. Before anyone could move, the Undying threw the screaming woman against the cabin’s wall, shattering bones and wood alike.
It moved, and the next man in line, who was busy drawing his sword and casting aside his crossbow, died as the creature drove a fist through his chest, shattering bone and pulping internal organs with the force of the strike.
Stanna stepped back and prepared for combat in the close quarters. Her sword stayed close to her side, bared and bloodied and seemingly hungry for more.
The Undying shook the body of the dead man from its arm and turned its hooded face toward the last of the three men who had shot at it. The man was justifiably terrified. He tried to run and failed. The man made two paces before a sudden wind blasted through the room and hurled him toward the Undying. Stanna’s short hair whipped around and Tully was actually staggered by the force of the wind, her hiding place revealed in an instant.
The man twisted in the air and tried to find a way to escape but the Undying was ready and caught him with those vile claws as the winds made its wings snap and flutter.
It turned toward Stanna and let out another loud hiss as it ripped the man in its grip in half.
Stanna backed away, shaking her head. Tully did the exact same thing from the other side of the cabin.
The blood-soaked He-Kisshi threw the ruined portions of its prey to each side as it came for Stanna. “I remember you…”
Stanna didn’t waste her time with words. The Bitch’s tip slammed into the creature’s chest and she let loose a battle cry as she lifted the thing from the ground and drove it into the wooden wall next to where Hillar lay slumped and bleeding.
Again, the thing screamed as it tried to stop the massive sword from pushing any deeper into its body. Stanna did not wait for it to recover. Instead her other hand came forward and she drove a heavy dagger into the beast’s head. The blade punched through flesh and bone, the point running into the oversized mouth like a new, shiny, bloodied tooth.
Still it fought. The body was pinned to the wall, but the legs were free and they rose up, sweeping the air, trying to claw open Stanna’s stomach or legs. She shifted her body and stepped back half a foot, narrowly avoiding having her thigh ripped open by the heavy claws. She pulled the blade from the head and slammed it home again in a new spot. The He-Kisshi roared and reached out with long arms.
Stanna grunted and pressed the hot, leathery body into the wall.
Tully watched on, horrified.
Stanna let out a battle cry again and brought her leg up to kick the thing in its bloodied guts. The vast mouth and head of the He-Kisshi lunged forward and Stanna pulled her leg back, narrowly missing getting her foot bitten off.
Tully moved past the other woman, pulling her daggers out as the thing lunged and tried to force its way up the sword sticking it to the wall.
Blood flowed from the heavy wounds in the nightmare’s belly and it moved closer to Stanna even as she tried to kick it back again. The claws of the He-Kisshi’s foot caught the leather of her pant leg and ripped the thick hide open. Thin trails of blood opened and wept on Stanna’s knee and calf even as she pushed her body into the thing again and shoved it further down the sword.
Tully’s first dagger drove into its neck and blood flowed freely.
The second dagger cut three fingers from the hand of the beast as it reached out to tear Stanna’s face from her skull.
That vast, dark mouth lunged for Tully then, ignoring Stanna completely. She backed up and stifled a scream as the teeth slammed together in a hard WHOMP. Her hands scrambled for more daggers from her collection and caught one of her larger blades instead. She brought the weapon up as a guard against those damnable teeth, and the tip of the thing opened a new, deep gash across the maw. Those eyes, dark and shining, glistened amidst the blood and studied her as the mouth tried for her again.
Stanna let out an inarticulate scream and drove her own knife’s blade into the thing’s neck again, a third time, and a fourth, before it finally turned to bite at her.
Stanna threw herself back as it lunged forward and once again slid up the blade that had it impaled against the wall.
This time she shoved the whole of the long knife’s blade into the damned thing’s mouth and down its throat. If the blade hadn’t pinned something vital, she would surely have lost her hand as it tried to bite.
Finally it stopped moving and let loose a sigh.
Stanna stepped back from it, carefully, eyes wide and very alert, her body shaking with her gasping breaths.
“That thing died easier the last time.”
Tully shook her head. “They do not stay dead. Not ever.”
Stanna nodded her head. “Do not leave here. Do not touch that thing.”
“I had no intention.”
She waited four minutes or so before Stanna came back with a very hefty blade and an axe to boot.
She watched as the woman cut large portions of the thing away. Each limb was cut away
from the others. The vast leathery sails it used for wings were removed and separated. When she was done Stanna took the head and hurled it into the ocean.
Stanna took the body one piece at a time and the crew watched her, some horrified and others simply awestruck.
Over the next hour as they moved along in the ocean, a limb at a time was tossed into the waters and finally the heavy torso of the thing was wrapped in cloth, bound in the ropes intended to tie the whole body together and then thrown over the side as well.
“I don’t think it’s dead.”
“Neither do I, Tully, but I expect it will take a while for the fucking thing to mend.”
“What do we do now?”
“I don’t know.” Stanna moved back toward the cabin that had been Darkraven’s office on their journey, and walked past the woman’s broken remains. There was a desk with a heavy oak chair. She took that spot and rested her head in her hands. “I prefer to let others do the thinking, you know? I prefer to just follow orders and make certain that things get done.”
Tully nodded her head. “Who was Darkraven’s second?”
“On this ship? Me.”
“You have seen how the gods work. You have seen what they are willing to do.”
Stanna nodded her head and looked toward Tully. “And?”
“They will not save the world. They will keep destroying it.”
“You were almost sacrificed. I can see where you might have a set opinion.”
“But I don’t. I didn’t. I just… I think that Brogan McTyre is right. The only way to stop the gods from ending the world is to stop the gods.” She moved her hands around. “I’ve no idea how, but he seems to have a notion or two.”
“You want to join the madman who started this?”
“I want to live through this.” Tully spread her arms wide. “Whatever this is. I want to live, Stanna. I am tired of running and hiding. I want to live.”
Stanna stared at her for a long while. Her eyes were unreadable in the gloom of the cabin. “They’ll come for us. The Undying.”
“The one you killed? It came for me several times. I think it’s the one that took Niall from us.”
“I remember it,” Stanna nodded.
“There are others. I don’t know how many, but they will come for us.”
“Then I suppose we should find the bastard McTyre and work together to end this madness.”
“And if someone doesn’t agree?” She was thinking about the people left on the ship. Many had fought against McTyre and his people already.
Stanna stood up. “If they want to argue, they can go into the waters, too.” The way she said it, Tully had no doubt she’d hack them apart first and enjoy the process.
The He-Kisshi
Ohdra-Hun drifted into the depths. He was not conscious, not in any way that would have made sense to a human being, but he was aware.
He knew that the others came for him. They moved from their places around the wasted lands and further away and they came as quickly as they could, desperate to make sure that no more of them were lost to the universe.
Uthl-Prahna was dead. Gone. Impossible though it seemed, he was lost to them forever. So, too, was Lidin-Throm, who had attempted to punish the demon Ariah and been locked away or destroyed within the prison that was the demon’s home. They could not tell for certain what had happened aside from the fact that it was gone, removed from the world. The balance of their world was damaged a second time, so, yes, the He-Kisshi congregated where the remains of Ohdra-Hun had been cast into the waters and they dove deep, sliding below the waves and moving through the water on wings made to cut air or water with ease.
It did not take them long to gather the remains. The challenge was finding a new host. The land around them was barren, stripped of all worthwhile life.
They traveled to the south and found more travelers soon enough. The ship was smaller, overcrowded with survivors desperate to make landfall. They were lost. The clouds made navigation a challenge and the He-Kisshi moved around the ship for several minutes before Dowru-Thist dropped down to the deck and looked at the people there. They were, understandably, nervous.
“You are starving.”
One of the men nodded his head.
“You would have food?”
“Yes. Please.”
“You would find your way to land?”
“Yes. Oh, yes, please.” The one that spoke was brave enough to look Dowru-Thist in the face. Most of the others refused.
Dowru-Thist reached out and pulled a young boy toward him. The boy was at the cusp of puberty, nearly perfect for their needs. The boy screamed, of course, and his mother came forward to beg. The man who had spoken on behalf of the people called out and two men held the woman. They would listen and survive or they would be punished by the Undying as had always been the way.
With a gesture of his hand Dowru-Thist reached into the sea and drew it into the air. Several shapes swam in the waters he summoned and when he gestured, the bounty of live fish splashed down on the deck of the ship. The desperate, hungry humans worked quickly to capture the thrashing beasts.
While they did that, and the woman cried for her child, the man who had spoken looked to Dowru-Thist and shook with fear. He was wise.
Dowru-Thist pointed his finger to the south. “Head in that direction. You are two days from land.” The man nodded and bowed, falling to his knees in gratitude.
The boy in his hands squirmed and tried to break free, but could not. Dowru-Thist made certain his grip was solid and then rose into the winds that he summoned. It was a short distance to reach land where they could collect the pieces of their fallen brethren.
Within twenty minutes the process was complete, and Ohdra-Hun lived again. It roared its rage into the airs and prepared to rise but this time Dowru-Thist and two others stopped the tirade.
“Enough. You have given into your rage too often, Ohdra-Hun. It is now time to be calm. We will destroy all that lives on this world, as the gods have demanded. They have woken the world-shapers and all that is here will soon be replaced. You will have your revenge. Now is the time to stop Brogan McTyre.”
Ohdra-Hun staggered around and the others watched, ready to attack if need be, though they had no desire to do so.
Finally their brethren relaxed and nodded. “It is time, Dowru-Thist.”
“We go now. We will kill the fool who would kill the gods and who killed our own.”
They rose as one, and moved high into the air. They did not need to seek Brogan McTyre. They knew where he was. The gods told them.
The gods were scared.
The He-Kisshi did not understand fear. It was not a part of their nature.
Brogan McTyre
The land to the west vanished. North and south of where they were the land continued on, but to the west storms came along that brought vast funnel clouds, and those clouds hit the earth and pulled it away.
“What is happening?” Brogan couldn’t see who asked the question.
Roskell Turn answered. “The gods are removing the world from existence. That is their way.” His voice was soft and solemn.
If the world were a drawing in the sand, then a giant was erasing that drawing in broad strokes. He thought back to the skeleton of Walthanadurn and shook his head. That was all he could think of as he watched it happen. Brogan held his axe and sword and stared at the land as it was destroyed, fully aware that there was nothing he could do to stop the decimation.
Where the distant silhouette of the land had been, there was now nothing but a vast expanse of water.
It was upon this endless stretch that the boat showed itself. It came from the west slowly. Perhaps it came swiftly but it seemed to take a very long time. The tiny shape grew in size until finally he could see it was a boat, but even then, the details were nearly impossible to make out in the darkness.
Anna Harkness cried when she saw the figure of her husba
nd, Desmond, on the vessel. She did not scream or weep but instead stood up and danced from one foot to the other impatiently as tears ran silently down her face.
Brogan smiled for her reunion, and if a part of him envied Desmond that joy, it was only natural in his eyes. His Nora was gone, after all.
Desmond looked like a hound tied to a tree. He wanted to run, to leap, to swim the icy waters if need be to get to his woman, but the slow fire of reason kept him on that unusual boat as it came closer.
And the boat was unusual. For all the world it looked as if the woman piloting it – was it Darwa? He thought so – had made it from the roof of a Lodge. It was always possible. The woman had been living in a Lodge when last he saw her. The structure was half-buried in the earth as he recalled, but that meant nothing. Galeans were, as he was learning, capable of many unusual feats.
Darwa looked his way and nodded grimly. She seemed incapable of smiling. He understood.
The odd-looking vessel thudded against their island of ice and broke a portion of it away.
“Be swift about it. We should be leaving here.” Darwa’s voice cracked like the ice as she spoke.
Brogan nodded and grabbed his meager supplies. He also grabbed Anna’s as the woman had set aside any semblance of caution and hurled herself into her husband’s arms. Desmond caught her and staggered a bit, but kept himself, and his wife, upright. They hugged as madly as any couple ever had, and that included Brogan and his Nora.
Brogan looked away and felt his jaw clench. He carried the bags onto the boat, swaying with the waves and the rocking of the thing. Yes, it was part of a Lodge, but it had been changed. The Galean had either reshaped the thing or used her sorceries to change it; he did not know and did not care. It held their weight with ease and he was grateful. When all the others were aboard, Faceless stared at the vessel for a long moment and then reached his hand into the air above it. The air crackled and Brogan thought he saw something happen, but whatever it was, it occurred too quickly for his eyes to fully recognize it. Faceless pulled back quickly, a wince forming on his nearly featureless face.
Gates of the Dead Page 21
