a clang. “One of the perks of marrying the fire god is a fireproof wedding dress.”
Anni whipped off her helmet and gave Myram a sudden look of concern. “You lost your hat.”
She started to reach for him, to tousle his hair, when she was suddenly ripped away, pulled down off the platform with a scream. Myram just caught her hand and was dragged down, slammed to the floor of the platform. He held her hand in a tenuous grip at the end of a painfully stretched arm, acting as a human anchor preventing her from being swallowed by the maelstrom.
Vulu scowled up at Myram from where she had grabbed Anni, arms around her legs, wings beating as she tried to pull the priestess down with her.
“My fate will be yours, Annihilus! We will be judged before the Eye of Fuerigos!” the demon screeched.
Myram knew he could not win against the desperate grip of the demon combined with the pull of the vortex.
“My staff!” Anni yelled over the roaring of the wind.
Anni must have dropped it when Vulu hit her. Myram felt around frantically for it, risking a glance over his shoulder he saw it rolling across the platform away from him. He felt the cold weight of the inevitability of doom settle in his stomach, and then his questing fingers found…his hat. He snatched it and snapped it onto his head.
“What are you doing?” Anni looked desperate and confused.
Myram winked at her. He plucked the feather from his brim, leaned over Anni, and waved it back and forth across Vulu’s nose. “Coochi-coochi-coo, you bitch!”
“No! No! N—” Vulu snuffled, loosing one arm from its grip on Anni to smack wildly at the enormous red plume, but it was too late. With a huge snort of air she let forth a thunderous sneeze, breaking her grip on Anni and sending her tumbling end over end into the center of the swirling storm. She fell through the magma stream pouring from the dragon’s mouth and came out doused in molten rock. She flailed against the viscous liquid, but as she passed through the seam between this space and the next it cooled rapidly, sealing her in a form-fitting shell of thick, cold rock.
Myram reached down and helped drag Anni back up onto the platform. She crashed down next to him, huffing with the effort of the climb.
“I think,” he said, between scratchy breaths of the sooty air, “That I may have just proven that the quill is, indeed, mightier than the demon.”
Anni laughed a croaking, smoke-addled laugh, then coughed and choked.
“Sounds like you could use a frosty mug of something,” Myram suggested.
“I am parched,” Anni agreed. “If only you knew an inn not too far from here we could slouch about in.”
Myram smiled. “My lady, I think I know just the place.”
She leaned forward and kissed him, sweetly, on the cheek.
###
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this story, I’d be ever so grateful for a review on your favorite e-book retailer. Happy reading! -- Keith
About the author:
Keith Gapinski is a new, independent author in the process of figuring out who he is as a writer. He’s interested in fantasy, science fiction, and fantastic realism. He lives with his wife and three cats in central Florida.
Connect with me online:
Twitter: @keithgapinski
Google+: Keith Gapinski
GapPage.com
Feather in His Cap Page 5