Power of the Lost

by Cebelius

  "What. Are. You?" Euryale asked, enunciating each word.

  One of her snakes was so close to the woman's silvery eyes that they crossed in an effort to keep it in focus, and she said quietly, "I am a nightmare."

  Euryale's dim memories sharpened abruptly, and she smiled despite the fact this woman couldn't see it past the mask she wore.

  "Excellent. Are you also going to be a good girl?"

  The snakes hovering near the nightmare's face renewed their hissing, and the poor woman barely dared to breathe as she whispered, "I am going to be a good girl."

  The snakes closed their mouths and withdrew, and the woman sagged with visible relief as she asked, "You are Euryale then?"

  Fresh anger flooded through the gorgon as she heard her name on this woman's lips. It meant that Stheno had spoken of her, or Thomas had, yet no one had come back for her.

  They left me. They ALL left me.

  "You may call me, Mistress. Touch the collar around your throat."

  The captive nightmare did so, her silvery eyes never wavering from Euryale, who nodded to it as she said, "There is exactly one key to that collar, and those manacles. That key is in my possession. While you wear the collar, your ability to draw on your mana pool is negated. You may cast no magic. I am told that nightmares are fast. This is true?"

  The other woman nodded, and Euryale tilted her head a bit as she asked, "How fast?"

  "If I have a connection to my target, and that person is asleep ... I can move at the speed of thought," she said. "Of course, I would need mana for that. Otherwise, I can run faster than any normal horse or centaur, and at night I can fly ... with access to my mana."

  Euryale's lips twisted. Trusting this person given where she'd been found would be stupid, but without some way to more precisely control what she could and couldn't do, the gorgon was stuck. If she wanted to use the creature's powers, she would have to have some other means of controlling her then the collar around her neck.

  As she thought about her problem, the woman asked, "May I speak to you freely, Mistress?"

  Several of Euryale's snakes hissed impatiently, but after a moment within which no better ideas came to her, the gorgon said, "Speak."

  "You are one of Terry Mack's women?"

  "He is my master."

  Euryale watched carefully as the black-skinned woman nodded at this, moving with slow care. She then asked, "Would ... do ye think he'd be willin' t' bond wi' me?"

  Euryale opened her mouth with every intention of a sharp retort, but her breath hitched as she considered what it meant that this woman would ask such a question. She remembered the loneliness she'd seen in the nightmare's face when she was still a statue. She considered further, then said, "Maybe. Maybe more than maybe ... if you bring me to him."

  "You have a bond with him," the other said, once more speaking carefully. "It'd be possible for me to get a lead on him usin' you. I often hunted down women who escaped Thomas by doin' just that. The only problem is that in order for me to find the man, he has to have a nightmare while I'm lookin'. I canna find someone havin' pleasant dreams. A hero like Terry Mack ..."

  She hesitated, then shrugged. "Such a clear conscience might be hard for me. Good men seldom attract my kind."

  Part of Euryale wanted to get up and dance, while the other part felt a sudden, intense emotional pain. Master's nightmares had gotten progressively worse. Eventually, he had forbidden anyone to sleep in the same bed with him. Euryale had no way to comfort such nightmares, no way to take them from him. She desperately wished she could, but now they might be just the thing that led her back to him.

  Still, this was all too convenient. It could be a trick.

  Euryale asked, "Why would you want to help me? Why would you want to bond with my master? You already have a bond with a template."

  The nightmare shifted back slightly, resting on one hand and a hip as her lower half sprawled. She said, "Thomas has hundreds of bonds. If I were nae good for travelin' he'da never thought o' me. I'm not even his only nightmare. I'm nuthin' to him."

  She scowled, then added, "An' I'm tired o' the dark. I'm tired o' the loneliness ... the emptiness. There's nuthin' for me with the Dust Lord, nuthin' in his mind but death and his lonely god. He thinks I'm dead. Tha' suits me. I want out. I know if I bond with another template I can be truly free, someday. As it is now, if he realizes I'm alive Thomas can summon me back to him."

  Raising her manacled hands, she said, "I'll gladly serve for the chance, for the maybe. That's enough. Please, take me with you. Let me help you. I'll do it, and do it gladly."

  Euryale knew she shouldn't trust so easily, but she found that she did. Perhaps it was simply that she had been alone for too long, or maybe it was her master's influence, but she wanted to see the best in people. She wanted to believe.

  Maybe I can do something good for ...

  She blinked, realizing abruptly that she didn't even know this woman's name.

  Shifting around to her knees, she thrust out a brazen claw and said, "Forget that mistress thing. You can call me Euryale. What's your name?"

  The nightmare took her claw and squeezed it with gentle strength as she said, "My name is Isthil Corrigan. You'll accept my help then?"

  Euryale smiled and pulled on the hand she held, reaching up to embrace the other woman. She tickled the shell of the nightmare's ear with her primary tongue and whispered, "I'll be counting on it, and when we see my master again, I'll do everything I can to make sure you get a fair chance at him."

  Isthil shivered, but after a moment's hesitation she straightened enough to wrap her free arm around Euryale as she murmured, "Deal."

  After a moment, Euryale broke contact and opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when she saw Isthil's eyes widen.

  The nightmare cursed and said, "I'm soo fuckin' tired o' these flighty bitches. Javelin's comin'."

  As Euryale turned, Isthil reached out and wrapped an arm around her, then hid her behind a shield. There were three loud clangs, and then she was released as furies began landing all around them in a flurry of wings.

  "Centaur, I would have words with ... what is that?"

  Euryale looked upon the regal woman that spoke to them with absolute disdain.

  She stood five and a half feet tall, only a little taller than Euryale herself, and had raven black hair and pale skin. Her face was human, though she had a decidedly avian cast to her features and looked even more bird-like with her head cocked just so as she looked at Euryale closely with one pale golden eye.

  Her armor was leather but finely tooled and instead of a quiver for javelins, she carried a target shield and a proper spear. The other furies deferred to her in a way that made it obvious that she was their leader.

  "I have questions for you," Euryale asked. "First, what were you thinking, sending a murder of furies after my master?"

  "I ask the questions around here!" the fury commander snapped, pointing her spear at Euryale. "Where is the template, Terry Mack!?"

  Euryale glanced back at Isthil and smiled brightly, then remembered the other woman couldn't see her face. So instead she said, "You know my sister, right?"

  "Certainly," Isthil replied.

  "She throws fits every so often, doesn't she," Euryale asked brightly.

  Isthil didn't reply other than to nod, her eyes going wide with understanding.

  "Snake woman! I asked you a question!"

  Ignoring the increasingly strident fury commander, Euryale tapped her mask, then said, "I am about to um ... play. Understand?"

  "Got it," Isthil said, and then crouched down, covering her head with her shield.

  Euryale turned around and said in her sweetest voice, "What's your name?"

  "You will answer my questions!" the fury practically screeched.

  Euryale held up her hands pleasantly and said, "Very well, little miss rude, my name is Euryale, daughter of Ceto. I am one of the three gorgon sisters."

  She put one hand in position to slip
the mask from her face as she cheerfully added, "People around here though, call me the Madsee! I thought it was a silly name at first, but it's kinda grown on me."

  She only took the mask off for a bare second before replacing it. In that time, all but three of the furies standing in the very back of the group suffered her curse.

  With a single, strong leap, her wings extended and swept back and she cleared the grouping, landing on the middle fury with a gleeful laugh, as though it were all a game. She bowled the lighter woman to the ground, pinning her shoulders back with brazen claws as she said, "Gotcha! Now, let's try this again. How are you? Are you polite? Will you answer a few questions for me?"

  She didn't even bother to look up as the other two birdbrains leapt into the air and fled. All Euryale's attention was focused on the fury she had under her claws. Her snakes were surrounding the other woman's face, hissing menacingly.

  "I am terrified, very polite, and will answer all of your questions," the fury replied, speaking so rapidly that the words seemed to fall over each other trying to escape her mouth.

  "I do so enjoy the company of polite people," Euryale said brightly. "Pretty please, tell me what your forces planned to do if they hadn't been distracted by Thomas?"

  "Thomas is who?" the terrified woman asked, still speaking as quickly as she could, as though swift replies would save her. They might actually. Euryale hadn't decided yet, but she did like that this one seemed to be making a real effort.

  "The Dust Lord."

  "Oh. We had orders to capture the template alive and unharmed and return him to the queen."

  "What of the others with him?" Euryale asked. She felt she knew, but wanted to see just how honest this terrified woman was prepared to be.

  "Kill or capture, at our discretion," the woman replied promptly. "We were also told that they might be useful as hostages against his good behavior."

  "I see. What's your name?"

  "Valana."

  "Well, Valana, you've been very honest with me, and since you are both honest and lucky, I'm going to make you a deal."

  Euryale got up off the other woman and then held out a hand to her.

  Still manifestly terrified, Valana nevertheless gamely took the proffered claw and allowed Euryale to haul her to her feet. Afterward, Euryale kept a grip on the other woman and led her at a leisurely stroll around the new group of stone statues until the two of them faced the erstwhile leader of their group.

  "What was her name?" Euryale asked, pointing at the commander.

  "Her name is Captain Hollis."

  "Her first name was Captain?" Euryale's voice was dangerously sweet.

  "Juno!" Valana almost shouted the name. "Her name was Juno!"

  "What an appalling name. Well, in any case I want you to reach out and take her head in your hands."

  For the first time, Valana hesitated, and Euryale loosened her own grip on the other woman as she said, "It's okay. You can do it. I'd advise you to do it quickly, or you won't be eligible for my deal."

  The edge in the gorgon's tone was all the motivation Valana needed. She reached out and cupped the statue's head with her hands and watched with growing horror in her expression as — humming faintly to herself — Euryale reached in under Valana's hands to use her brazen claws to scrape at the neck.

  She took her time, thinning the neck all around until she felt confident even a weakling fury could do the deed, then said brightly, "Now! Go ahead. Twist and pull!"

  Valana whimpered, but did as she was ordered and broke the head of her commander off the statue she had become.

  "Very good! First try!" Euryale clapped her hands once and then slid one of them over the fury's shoulder as she pointed with the other toward the distant floating island.

  "Your queen, what's her name?"

  "She is Queen Alecto," Valana said, subdued now as she cradled the head to her chest.

  "Alecto ... I wonder if she's the original, or if the name is a hand-me-down. No matter. I want you to pass on a message for me. Give her the head, and tell her that the template Terry Mack belongs to Euryale, the Euryale, and she has one day to get that eyesore of an island away from here. Past that, if I ever, ever, see that thing again, I'm going to turn it into a gods-forsaken graveyard. Let her know that the only reason I'm not on my way to do that now is because I have a template, and I'd rather be fucking him than her. Can you do that for me, Valana?"

  Speech seemed to have failed the terrified woman, but she gave Euryale a jerky nod, now clutching the head tightly to her chest as though it might save her somehow.

  "Do remember that if you fail to deliver this message with the proper sincerity, this ..."

  Euryale spread a brazen claw, indicating the small forest of fury statues in front of them, then reached over and delicately touched Valana's nose, "... will be your fate. Go on now. Up, up, and away. Shoo!"

  Valana launched herself skyward, wings beating so strongly that a few of the nearby statues wobbled with the draft.

  As Euryale watched the fleeing bird-woman she said absently, "You can look now, Isthil."

  She didn't need to turn, she could see the nightmare still cowering behind her shield, and watched as she only slowly peeked around it, then got to her feet.

  "You do things a bit differently than your sister," the nightmare said, glancing around. "She'da used a sword, carved 'em up and savored the fear in 'em."

  "I only cause fear in people I really hate," Euryale said absently. "Or when it serves a definite purpose. I don't like the idea of people being afraid of me. Better to just kill them all and get it over with."

  "You and Stheno ... dinnae have much in common, do ye?"

  Euryale bit her lip and turned to look at Isthil, then shrugged. What she had done to Valana was something for which she felt no guilt, but from which she also took no pleasure. In the moment she had, certainly, but not now. If things had been different, the fury might have been a friend. Isthil might still become a friend, and Euryale found she wanted that enough to try and be honest with her.

  "We are both monsters, my sister and I," she said quietly. "Much as I hate her, beyond a certain point, the differences don't really matter. All the things we love die. All the things we hate die. After a while, it just gets easier to hate everything, you know, because that way when it dies ... we don't have to feel so bad."

  Isthil was silent for a long moment, glancing around at the stone statues, then back at Euryale as she said, "Terry Mack must have given you somethin' truly amazing to get such devotion from you. Now I really want to meet him."

  Euryale laughed at that, and her mood brightened. "He did, and you will, once you help me get back to him."

  22

  The Revelation

  "Should we camp here?" Mila asked. She, along with the others, was staring at the trapdoor in the center of the room that both spoke to their success thus far and the end of their safety. Staying on the path had brought them to this place unmolested. Once they opened that trapdoor, they had no idea what awaited them.

  "No. It is not safe. We cannot barricade these doors, nor can we be certain that —"

  "Yes we can," Terry said, interrupting Yuri as he pointed to the door they'd just opened, and the room beyond. "We've been closing the doors so as not to leave a trail, but we should just leave that one open. The magic in it won't reset, and anyone following us will show up over there. We can have Mila make a stone wall in the opening, to keep the door from closing and anyone else from coming through."

  Mila glanced at her brother and shared a look with him. Yuri asked, "Mila?"

  "His idea has merit, at least insofar as we understand the rules of this place. Once we go down, we may not have another chance to rest."

  Yuri rubbed at his forehead, eyes shut as he considered, then nodded.

  "All right. We camp here. Marcus has first watch. I will take the second, and Asturial will take third. Marcus, break out the bottomless flask. Everyone drink. Those who have business to attend,
do it in the other room now, so that we can wall off the smell. Once you have eaten, sleep. Dry rations only, there will be no fire."

  The group took it in turn to finish their business, and then Mila concentrated, speaking the words of one of her most familiar spells. Smooth stone as thick as the walls on either side rose up by inches to fill the space normally taken by the door, which hung open on the other side.

  It took her several minutes of casting to finish the wall, but once it was complete she immediately felt much safer. Her walls were reliable, and this one would last a full day before the magic holding it here faded. Since that was tied to her and not the stone, it would be all but impossible to dispel, thus its usefulness as a barrier and — failing that — a warning.

  As she turned away from the wall, she came face-to-face with Shy. The dryad smiled at her and asked, "Can you make another wall for me? I would take it as a personal favor."

  "Why?" she asked, glancing around. "Do you want me to wall off the trapdoor so no one is able to open it?"

  "No, I don't think anyone among us is that foolish. I'd simply like a small room, perhaps eight by eight feet, over there in the corner? Leaving a three foot gap at the wall so that people can come and go? It doesn't need to go to the ceiling, ten feet will do."

  Shy's smile broadened as she said, "Unless ... you like to watch?"

  As she caught on, Mila's ears folded back and her tail grew still behind her. "Is ... I mean, surely you can wait?"

  "Tee has ... responsibilities, Mila. Three of them are here, and I'm sure you'll agree the stress of this place is bearing on everyone."

  She paused, then smiled as she added, "If the effort you've expended thus far has wearied you, I am certain he'll be willing to lend you the power. I know you enjoy that."

  "Please, Mila. For all our sakes just give them the damn wall. I have seen enough of that man's cock."

  Yuri shuddered as he stepped over to where Marcus — quietly chuckling — was pulling camp chairs and other accessories from his bottomless pack, all the while mumbling something Mila didn't quite catch about lucky bastards and fuck toys.