by S T Branton
Your taunts will only serve to displease her, Marcus said. Bastas is not like the others in the way that she interacts with humans.
“That’s fine,” I said. “Maybe she’ll get curious. Don’t you know what that does to cats?”
Chapter Thirty-One
I found out very quickly that Marcus was right about at least one thing. Bastas did not appear to give two flying shits about me. No matter how much I danced around and waved my giant laser-pointer of a sword, she seemed content to watch me make an ass of myself for a while, her eyes narrowed. I caught sight of various members of my team during this display, and all made the judicious call to steer clear, even Brax. I was glad for that, deep down. This one, I thought, was best handled one on one.
Assuming I could get in range of her anyway. Where was a giant ball of string when you needed one?
“Come on, kitty kitty,” I yelled, pirouetting with the Gladius Solis. “I think you and I ought to have a little chat about what’s going on here, maybe over a saucer of milk. Your pets aren’t looking so hot anymore.” I paused. “Well, the ones on fire look pretty hot, but you know what I mean. Did you see that a lot of them ran home? How embarrassing. One might even call it a catastrophe.”
Her eyes narrowed even further. A little voice in the back of my head told me I was officially stomping around on thin ice. I ignored it. Sometimes thin ice got results, depending on which of us fell through first.
“You want to make a deal?” I went on. “I’ve made a couple of those today. One guy’s dead now, but it doesn’t have to be like that. We could come to an understanding. How much catnip would it take?”
Bastas twitched her long, elf-like ears. She was agitated. I could tell by the way her long body had trouble staying completely still. Her fingers, in particular, fidgeted around. The sharp claws sheathed and unsheathed in quick succession. She wanted to sink them into my throat.
I wanted her to come close enough to try.
“Let’s go.” I beckoned to her with the sword. “Are we going to fight, or are we going to make a deal?” Again, I brandished the sword. “You don’t say much. What the matter? Cat got your tongue? Maybe you’ve got a furball stuck in your throat. Honestly, if you don’t answer me, I’m gonna keep making shitty cat jokes all night. You have the power to stop this.”
The goddess took a step forward, and she was at my throat faster than my eyes could see. Her perfect, otherworldly face stared down into mine. The slender fingers gripping my neck didn’t press down too hard—just hard enough to give me a clear picture of her strength. I blinked, regulated my breathing, and forced my brain and heart not to skip automatically into panic mode. Up close, her eyes were swirling golden galaxies, deep with wisdom and something more sinister. Bitterness, maybe, or pure hatred.
“Do not speak to me as though I am a child,” she snarled. Her voice was not silky smooth. It carried the coarseness of the command she had uttered at the start of the fight. “Compared to one such as me, you are little more than a mist of blood in the wind, unpleasant and soon forgotten.”
As you can hear, Bastas possesses a trait quite characteristic of her feline kin—a rough tongue.
“She speaks,” I told her around a slightly strained smile. “And I would gladly return the courtesy if you’d be kind enough to let go of my throat. If not…” I brought the sword around and wedged it between us, holding it steady even though the heat on my own skin was searing. Bastas jerked away from both the heat and light, hissing sharply. The moment her grip loosened, I used the butt of the sword to knock her hand away with one sharp blow. She cradled her wrist, seething.
That was something I knew about cats. They were sensitive and highly strung, and they did not like pain.
“I offered you the chance to make a deal,” I said. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but that seemed like a blatant rejection.”
Bastas bared her fangs and circled me like a fighter searching for the best angle of attack. “Insolence,” she burst out. “How dare you assume that I, the luminous Bastas, would deign to make a deal with your brand of lowly mortal filth?” She sniffed and tossed her head. “What could you know of deals in the first place, having spent the whole of your pathetic life on a tiny, dismal rock? I have dealt in stars, in planets and galaxies, and in realms. There is nothing you could give me that would even begin to tempt me.”
“Don’t be so sure,” I replied. “I mean, I’m sure I could scrounge up a big juicy mouse.”
This is a vain, prideful creature. She adores herself, no other.
That much had become abundantly clear. I turned in place so that I could keep my eyes on her, primed to fend off an attack at any moment. But she seemed more interested in preening for the moment, tending to whatever mutilation she thought I’d inflicted upon her wrist. Never mind that she had been the one inches from choking me to death.
“Child,” she said at last, her voice dripping with disdain. “Before I eliminate you forever, I want you to know how little you mean to me and how insignificant your demise will be in this world. You are a drop in the vastest of oceans, a grain of sand on an infinite beach. You are less than a blade of grass, less than a speck of dirt. I will grind you beneath my feet, and there, you will fade into nothingness.”
“Wow,” I said. “So you’re gonna bury me like a turd in kitty litter? That’s not very nice.”
Bastas pinned her ears against her head, and her lips twisted into a feral grimace. The words that leapt from her throat rose partially into a shriek, and I knew I had her.
“You are null and void!” she screamed.
The flurry of teeth and claws that flew at my face distorted her enough that for a split second, she didn’t look like anything other than pure, vengeful darkness. Her lithe form melted in and out of the shadows until I could have sworn there was more than one of her.
“Is she a master of illusions, too?” I asked Marcus, half joking.
Given her penchant for what you have so often termed, ‘total bullshit,’ I would not be surprised in the least, he answered honestly.
“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you swear,” I said. My head constantly swiveled, trying to keep tabs on where she was. She moved so quickly that I could barely depend on hearing rather than sight. It was like she was everywhere all at once.
Now I understood why this might take a while.
Breathe, Victoria. She is a different breed of god, to be sure, but she is not invincible. There is no such thing as a flawless deity, for even Kronin could die.
I spotted the vaguest hint of a cat shape leap from shadow to shadow. A pair of golden eyes appeared and streaked away. “She’s making me dizzy,” I said to Marcus. “Will she stop if I throw up on her?”
Trust your sword, as you have learned to do, he said. Your human senses may yet fail, but the Gladius Solis will not. It is, after all, the armament of a king.
I examined the blade beneath the flames. It made me a little nervous to take my eyes off Bastas’s potential attack, but it did help clear my mind. The longer I studied the sword in my hand, the more confident I became. It had brought me through all kinds of fresh new hells without missing a beat. I had seen it topple gods before, and I knew it could do so again. We could do it together.
The goddess disoriented me, but she was merely an obstacle, not invincible. I felt as if the sword spoke to me through my hands, sending its energy up into my body. The skin on my forearms picked up its glow, and a matching warmth spread through me. This, I realized, was what it felt like to truly be one with the weapon.
“Bastas,” I whispered. “Where are you?” I could almost see her now, even though my gaze was fixed downward at an angle toward the burnt grass. Her quiet, ever-moving presence stood defined in my mind’s eye. She was finally, finally getting ready to strike. She thought I was distracted.
But she was wrong.
She launched at me from above and behind, and in the two seconds that she was in the air, I whirled and bloc
ked her claws with the flat of the blade. Instead of that exquisite humanoid face, I found myself looking into the eyes of a great black leopard, its paws braced upon the sword.
We stared at each other. A curl of dark black smoke rose from the blade’s surface, and Bastas jerked her paws away. A harsh, dark smear marred the underside of one great padded foot, which she now favored. She shrank back to the edge of our self-determined arena, but not far back enough that I couldn’t see her. The sneak attack she’d thought was foolproof had failed. She seemed strangely unsure about her movements now.
“Not used to fighting on your own?” I asked. “I get it. You have people to do that for you.”
Her hackles rose. She screamed again and launched her massive body at my head. A foot away from impact, she shifted into a humanoid and swiped at my chest with her naked claws.
“I will rip out your unworthy heart,” she growled.
I jerked my arm back and threw the sword overhand. It struck her in the left side of the ribcage, knocking her off balance. She tried to snatch it from the air, but my recall proved too strong.
“Jeez, lady,” I said. “At least buy me dinner first.” I flashed the sword at her. “Nice try, though. I think you almost had me.”
Bastas’s eyes were wide, fixed on me and wild with rage. Her pupils had shrunk down to nothing in spite of the darkness, and the wide expanse of yellow around the slits glowed like lamplight in the night.
“How can a human dare to mock me so?” she demanded. “From whence does this fool’s courage stem? There is no ending for you, save for a painful death. Do you not understand?”
“It might be painful if you killed me, yeah,” I acknowledged cheerfully. “But you won’t do that, will you?”
She lunged from the ground, seeking to rip my stomach open. “You will writhe in a sea of your own offal.”
I stepped aside, slicing neatly at her as she tumbled past. “No thanks. I’m keeping organs on the inside where they belong.”
The goddess whipped around and threw her body through the air. She morphed into the black leopard, and as the sinewy limbs stretched toward me, I leveled the edge of the Gladius Solis and thrust it directly into the center of her left paw pad. She couldn’t stop in time, and the steel traveled up and out the side of her leg, scraping the bone. Dark, pungent blood showered me.
Bastas hit the ground hard and wrenched her injured leg. A shattering, soul-rending cry shook her whole body, but she still managed to leap to three of her feet and bolt raggedly off toward the forest before I had taken more than two steps toward her. Heavy drops of blood trailed in her wake. I watched her shape, robbed of its grace, race off until she faded from sight.
Seconds later, Dan, Deacon, and Brax appeared, looking for the source of the horrible screech. “What in the blazes was that?” Dan asked. “Did you find a damn banshee somewhere?”
The demon shook his head. “Bastas is dead.”
“No, she’s not. I couldn’t seal the deal.” I extinguished the sword’s blade. “But one of her legs is pretty fucked up, and I’d say it’s a job well done for now. If she comes back, I’ll kill her for sure. If she doesn’t, I’ll hunt her down. Either way, she’s no longer a present threat.”
He looked me over. “That her blood, at least?”
“Hell, yeah,” I said.
Brax nodded his approval. “Nice.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
True to Forgotten form, Bastas’s minions didn’t last long after she abandoned them. My team and I mopped up the fight before we retreated into the fort, leaving some of our soldiers on watch. I lingered at the front for a while, keeping a personal eye out for any sign of Bastas’ return. She never appeared. I figured that her leg injury had at least bought us a chunk of time, though when she eventually did return, it would probably be with a vengeance.
By then, we’d be ready for her.
The first thing I did once I went inside was take a nice, hot shower. The mud, sweat, and cat-god blood ran down the drain, and I soaked in the steam and soap. The things a hot shower could do for the soul were truly amazing. I emerged from the stall rejuvenated, ready to face the new challenges awaiting us.
No doubt, there were worse things than a horde of feral cats on the horizon, but we had proven tonight that we had each other’s backs—all of us. I smiled, thinking about the way Dan and Brax’s plan had gone off without a hitch. Sure, it turned the whole field into an awful burning mess, but it took care of the horde. An encouraging step forward.
I took my time getting dressed, brushed my hair, and went to the table by the bed to slip Marcus’ pendant back on.
Hail, Victoria. You are looking as well as I’ve ever seen you.
I chuckled. “That is almost certainly not true, but thanks for making the effort. What do you say we get down to the mess hall and check on the status of the feast? My stomach is feeling pretty empty.” Right on cue, a gurgle emanated from my inner workings.
Certainly. Hunger pangs do not suit a hero.
I sighed, smiling in spite of myself. “I’m not a hero, Marcus. I’m simply doing the job you gave me. Without pay, I might add. All I have for compensation are warrants for my arrest, people trying to kill me, and tons of blood on my hands. I’m not sure I would have taken this gig if I knew the perks were so nonexistent.”
That is almost certainly not true, Marcus echoed, but thank you for making the effort. I had thought you were too pleasant as of late.
“Oh, please.” I waved my hand dismissively. “You’ve come to love this sparkling personality.”
As sparkling as grains of salt in an open wound, he said.
I frowned. “You’re getting sassier. Maybe you’d like to hang out with someone else for a while. You could roll with Deacon instead. Or Brax. How about that?”
If you forced Abraxzael to wear this medallion, I assure you, I would find a way to transcend the boundaries of death and die again.
“I’ll never understand you two. He’s not that bad.” I entered the open-front atrium and turned right toward the mess hall. A couple of Dan’s men were hard at work replacing the broken doors. They grinned at me on my way past.
“Hey, Vic,” the older one said. “You’re looking mighty fine tonight.”
“C’mon, dude.” His younger colleague looked mortified. “You can’t say that to her. She totally outranks us.”
I smirked. “What he means to say is that I’m way out of your league. See you at the feast, boys.” I passed into the hall without giving them a second thought.
“Oh, shit,” the younger one said. “I should have high-fived her for that.”
The tantalizing aroma of food drifted from the open kitchen as I made my way to the back. I could see Veronica’s crimson hair tied up in a giant bun on her head and encased in a makeshift hairnet. She looked up when she heard me enter. “Hey, Vic. How are you feeling?”
I scowled. “Fine. Why? Do I look like crap?”
Big Red rolled her eyes. “No, you look fine. I asked how you are because of that fight you were in, remember?” She palmed a dinner roll from a nearby baking sheet and tossed it at me. “Here. Shove this in your face. You’ve gotten skinny.”
“Okay, Mom.” It was still warm and soft and buttery on the inside. “What the hell? This is so good. Did you make it?”
“Oh, yeah.” Veronica held up a tube of premade dough. “Me and this cardboard tube.”
“Is that Vic I hear out there?” Jules stuck her head out from one of the pantries. Her smile lit up her whole face. “Hey! You look awesome. It’s good to see you not covered in dirt or blood for once.”
“You make it sound like those are things I want to happen.” I took another bite of the roll. “Those are simply things that happen to me.”
“We’re grateful for it, make no mistake.” Veronica opened one of the ovens and peeked at what was inside. “But that doesn’t make it less gross.”
“Fair,” I said. “When do we eat? I’m starving.”
>
It was Jules’ turn to roll her eyes. “Get out of here with that. Good food is like art. It takes time.” She looked me over. “Why don’t you go find Deacon so that clean, pretty face doesn’t go to waste?”
Veronica laughed before she could hide it. Her enormous bun wobbled.
“You guys are jerks,” I said. “Don’t blame me if you come to tell me the food’s ready and all you find are some skeletonized remains.”
Big Red groaned and tossed me another roll, and I made off with my prize before either of them could change their minds. I’d given them a hard time for fun, but actually, I didn’t mind that the feast wasn’t ready yet. I wanted to take another spin around the fort and assess the situation.
The common areas were full again. Families sat talking on the furniture, and mothers cradled babies in the crooks of their arms. Older children zipped around the adults, shrieking and laughing with pure glee. I found Maya putting puzzles together with a whole gaggle of kids, while Steph conspicuously read a book nearby. Frank and a kitten took up the opposite corner. None of the parents shot him suspicious looks any more or whispered to each other when he went by. He let the kids use his bulky physique as a jungle gym, rifle through his pockets, and even wear his hat. He studiously avoided both Maya and Steph at the moment, but I guessed that couldn’t be helped.
“You seen Deacon?” I asked him.
“Nah.” He shook his head. “I been busy, you know? Keeping the cat is a full-time job.” He scratched her between the ears.
“Right, don’t forget the feast,” I said as I walked away.
“Are you kiddin’ me?” he replied. “I’m dead, not…dead. Wait a sec—”
Dan and his men were outside under the glare of the spotlights, working to clean up the aftermath of the battle. Thick, tufted tumbleweeds dotted the scarred ground, dissipating gradually in the knife-like wind. I spotted Luis in the mix, his rifle on his shoulder, chatting with Dan as the two of them gathered heaps of charred grass. The soldier’s cheerful smile was once again a permanent fixture on his face, and his boisterous laughter rang out as I watched him interact with the kid. They were both laughing by the time I turned away.