by Noëlie Frix
“You smile?” he asked surprised. Perhaps pleasantly so.
“Very perceptive,” she mocked.
The snake hissed and attacked. Its heads coordinated their move, coming from both sides. Heka jumped up. Unfortunately for her, the snake moved quickly, and she landed on the ground instead of one of its heads. The left side reared back and spat out sharp pieces of ice. Warrior barely had time to drop to the ground and slide toward the snake. She drove her sword into the monster’s neck making that head hiss in pain. The right tried to bite her, but she was already out of the way. Far away. When she reached for her bow and sheathed her sword, she saw that a drop of venom had fallen on her hand No time to worry about it. And no good reason to; just as the pain settled in her hand, it started receding.
She nocked an arrow, aimed, and fired. It landed in one of the left’s eyes, making it screech in pain. Sertia sped toward her. She stepped in and drove an arrow through the right one’s throat, then she shot it at the left’s crown. Sertia glared at her, an evil glint in his eyes, two arrows protruding from the left head. Ouch, that’s gotta hurt! she thought with a merciless grin. The tail encircled her before she had time to move, and the snake started to wrap around her. The breath squeezed out of her, Heka yelped.
Jason tried to lift the sword, but it felt too heavy in his hand. Volka crept closer, ready to pounce. He grabbed the knife, the blade of which was about thirty centimeters long. The wolf jumped, her paws on each side of Jason, her head right above his. Jason kicked her in the side of the face and drove the blade of the knife deep into her heart, all the way to the hilt. The wolf collapsed next to him, blood flowing from the gash on her chest. Jason felt sorry, but he knew the wolf would have killed him if he didn’t.
Heka cursed. This wasn’t the first tight situation she’d found herself in, and it wasn’t the worst. But it was still pretty bad. The snake kept tightening its hold on her. Their four, well, three, eyes looked into hers. Heka squirmed. The snake’s right head was now only a few millimeters away from hers. She head-butted him. Hard. That head hit the left one and Sertia was momentarily dazed. Not for more than a few mere seconds, it loosened its hold a little. Just enough that her hand was able to grab the remaining knife strapped to her thigh. She sliced the tail and fell to the ground. The heart. She had a clear shot now. Her arrow flew straight into it; Sertia collapsed.
“That was so much—” Heka started barely breathing hard.
“Fun?” Jason finished.
“Yeah.”
“You are so weird,” he joked. “What now, we grab the flower?”
“We should wait for Myegi,” she said reluctantly. “As much as I hate and distrust her, I believe what she said about us dying if we tried to take it and not her. This is ancient magic.”
“You say it like we’re not ancient,” he pointed out. “We’ll wait.” He handed her the sword and knife back. “These came in pretty handy.”
“Always do.”
They felt a cold chill settle in the room and the sweet smell of roses filled the air. Myegi appeared in front of them, standing between the two creatures who stirred. Their wounds closed and they stood.
“What the…!” Heka breathed.
The snake hissed, the wolf growled. Both seemed as good as new. Except for three arrows on the ground and blood on the blue ice, it seemed as though they had never fought.
“Shhh,” Myegi hushed. “Your duty is finished. Leave.” Volka and Sertia disappeared in a flash of silver that left just the slightest hint of rose fragrance hanging in the air. “Well done. You have earned the flower. Use it well and care for it.” She went to the pedestal, spoke a few words, and a wall of silver light blazed around her. She stepped through and scooped out a handful of dirt with the flower in it. Then, as she handed it to Jason, she said very formally, “This Flower now belongs to you. May it serve you well.” Shadow admired the beautiful, shining silver rose.
Under their incredulous eyes, the two Immortals saw a new flower grow out from the earth in the pedestal.
“All of this for something that just grows again?!” Heka exclaimed indignantly.
“You had to prove your worth. Take good care of it. A Moonlight Flower is not given lightly and should not be used lightly.”
“Trust me, it won’t be.” Jason reassured her.
“We have to get going,” Heka reminded him. “Time is a luxury we do not have right now.”
“Grab my hand. I will take you out,” Myegi said.
Heka took her right hand reluctantly, Jason the left. She closed her eyes and when she opened them again, they were outside, in front of Myegi’s house. The Spirit walked inside and brought Jason’s belongings back to them.
“Thank you for everything.” Jason said.
“You are welcome. Go now. Humanity needs you.”
“Thanks,” Heka seemed happy to get away from the Moon Spirit. “Bye.”
Myegi nodded and went into her house while Jason and Heka headed to their ship.
“Glad that’s over,” Heka said, relieved, as the vines released the sails and the ship escaped the ice. “We have to take care of Death as soon as possible. So much to do,” she sighed.
“We’ll manage, as we always do,” Jason comforted her.
“We just have to get Death to drink a poison that might kill him, and then draw our own battle plans to counter War’s. Oh, and I have to train an army. Of men and Immortals.”
“Why don’t you look at this under a positive light? We have War’s plans, all in your head. And we already have the Moonlight flower.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just that I know what we have to do, but I don’t want to.”
“Now I’m a little confused. What don’t you want to do that we have to do?”
“Split up.”
“What are you talking about?”
“We need to split up,” she said again more confidently.
“No! We just got back together. Why should we?”
“Listen. We have too much to do. Before we go poison Death, someone has to go scout out the area.”
“Yeah, so?”
“So, we don’t have time to go back to Nature’s island, and then to Death’s lair. You have to get the Moonlight flower to Trélig as soon as possible, and you’ll travel a lot faster if you go over shadows. I have to go check out Death’s place. I’ll avoid any encounters and just try to get a layout of the surroundings and his fortress. As soon as the death brew is finished, you should join me. With your skills, you’re probably the most apt at successfully sneaking it into his food undetected.”
“But…what if…?
“If something happens? Then I’ll be the only one who has to get hurt. Besides, I have a good level of pain tolerance. Excellent pain tolerance in fact,” she smirked.
“If that was supposed to reassure me, it failed miserably,” he pouted. “Trélig said it might take him days to make the brew. Plus, we don’t even know if Electra managed to bring the Sunlight flower back yet.”
“I had Sembor ask Electra’s companion whether or not they were back. He said they brought the plant this morning, and they are both fine. It will take me a couple of days to reach Death’s fortress, then at least another day to inspect the perimeter.”
“And I could be at the island tonight,” he said grudgingly. “You might get hurt.”
“I am not one to shy away from danger. I have faced many situations where I knew I might get hurt. But I am good at what I do. Even if I’m not as sneaky as the great Shadow,” she winked.
“You’re better than good. But this is Death we’re talking about! One of the oldest and most powerful Immortals to exist.”
“And we can’t let him destroy life,” she reasoned. “We’re the only ones capable of stopping him.”
“Fine. I guess we’ll split up.”
“It’ll work Jason.”
“Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
“Aren’t I always?” She kissed him. “You know me
!”
“My point exactly…I’ll see you soon.”
“See you soon,” she said. Jason seemed to vanish, leaving behind just the usual wisp of black smoke.
Sembor appeared at her side. You’re sure about this?
“No,” she said truthfully. “But the strategist in me tells me it’s the best thing to do.”
And the girl in you? he grinned.
Heka smiled, “She tells me I need to take some time off, that I shouldn’t have split up. But in war, warrior instincts overcome the girly feelings of said warrior. You found his fortress?”
Yes. Nasty place. There’s a lot of dark magic there. I couldn’t get in.
“Thanks,” she saw images of the fortress in her mind, as Sembor had seen it.
It’s two days from here.
“I got it. You can go to Trélig’s island, and keep me up to date. If anything happens to me, warn the others.”
Are you sure you don’t want me with you?
“Yes. Death is very powerful; you couldn’t get in, and I don’t want him to hurt you.”
I know. You don’t seem to mind getting hurt yourself though.
“I don’t like it, but it’s the best thing for us to do—plus, I stand a fair chance,” Heka herself heard how dubitative she sounded. “Maybe I won’t get hurt.”
The trip to Death’s lair was fairly uneventful. Sembor gave her confirmation that everyone was okay. Wind had recruited some Immortals already, Electra had come back safely, and Trélig had found a cure for the disease which was circulating among the human population. He was now working on the death brew.
She reached the peninsula the evening of the second day and decided to sleep on the ship. The next morning, she continued on foot. After walking inland for about three hours, she saw the fortress for the first time. It was made of black and dark granite stones. What a surprise, she thought. These evil Immortals had a thing for black; it was sickening. The building was not elegant nor was it as impressive as War’s, but it had a lot of similarities; it was a fortress build for protection and attack. And she had to get in. Heka could feel the magic radiating from the place. Death was powerful, no questions there. And he had had several millennia to build up his protections and power.
Warrior snuck closer. The entire building was surrounded by a moat, and a stone bridge led to the massive and impregnable front doors. Judging from all the darkness around, Shadow could have gotten in undetected, but she would have to wait for nightfall before being able to get to the other side. From a distance, she examined the perimeter of the area, finding doors and windows, turrets and guard towers. By the time night had fallen, she felt rested and knew the outside layout of the fortress.
“Time to go to work,” Warrior breathed.
Crawling through the tall grass, she crept towards the bridge, making sure to stay out of the main, torch-lit path, threw her legs over the side of the moat and grabbed the underside of the bridge with her hands. She heard voices coming from above and held her breath. If anyone looked below the bridge now, they would easily see her. But the voices just passed her and she resumed moving. When Heka reached the other side, she climbed up and ran for the doors full tilt.
She waited, pressed flat against the cold granite wall. Footsteps echoed from behind the doors and two men walked out. Before the doors closed, Heka slipped in undetected. The hallway was too bright for her to remain invisible to her enemies, so she opened a side door and stepped in. No torches were lit. Her eyes narrowed. Something felt wrong. She could sense the presence of several people in the room. Warrior tried to back out, but it was too late. The doors closed behind her. She got into a fighting stance, her hands grabbed her swords. Heka closed her eyes. This way, she focused on her other senses better.
Trapped. She had walked into a trap blindly, and now she cursed herself for it. This situation didn’t please her one bit. She felt someone coming up from behind. Her foot connected with a jaw. She heard someone release an arrow and Warrior had to duck to avoid being pierced through. A cold voice rose from behind her and she spun around.
“Good night,” she heard him say in a chilling tone. Something caught her on the side of the head, a warm trickle of blood ran down her face, and she passed out. Warrior was captured.
Chapter 16: Death’s Prisoner
Heka’s eyes fluttered open. The wound to her head was already closed up and the blood had been washed off. As she looked around, a cold feeling settled in her gut. She was lying on her back on top of a cold stone table. Her arms and legs were spread-eagled, her hands and feet shackled. She wore only her underwear.
The walls of the room were made of the same dark granite stone as the table, a torch burned dimly on the wall opposite her head, and a solid marble door to her left barred the way. She could feel the dark magic and power that impregnated the cell, but it was so much stronger than for the rest of the fortress. Heka swore as she strained against her bonds, but all she managed to do was wound her wrists. She breathed in slowly, trying to calm down, and started to move her fingers around in a precise pattern when she heard a loud scraping sound and the door opened.
Death stepped in. His eyes were so dark it was impossible to discern the pupil from the iris, his skin so pale he looked almost translucent, his features were sharp and angular; he wore a clean crisp black suit.
“Hmm,” he looked at her, some amusement in his eyes as he noticed her dancing fingers. “It’s a little too late to use your powers,” he said in that same cold voice she had heard the day before. “I hope you enjoy your room. It was specially prepared for unwanted visitors of your type.”
Heka glared at him.
“No, Atos, I don’t enjoy my room. And if by ‘my type’ you mean Immortal, then it’s also your type, idiot!”
“Insulting me will not get you anywhere. And, we are very different. So, your type of Immortal. Not mine.”
“We are indeed different. I have feelings and a soul!”
“I am glad you are feeling talkative today, because I am in need of some information you possess.”
“I won’t give you any,” she spat. “You can try, but you won’t get anything out of me.”
“I am not so sure,” he said, walking up to her side. She tried to inch away but only managed to move her head and throw him a disgusted look. “I can be highly persuasive,” he smiled wryly. “And powerful.”
“Way to be modest.”
“As I understand it, you’re not too good about modesty either.”
“What would make you say that?” she wondered.
“A certain Immortal.”
“My uncle. Are you gonna turn me in over to him?” she asked and actually found herself wishing he’d say yes.
“No,” he retorted, dashing her hopes to pieces. “You are my prisoner. Where he failed, I succeeded.”
He lay his hand on her stomach, making her flinch. His long and slender fingers moved about gracefully. His nails were perfectly manicured, a couple centimeters long and painted black.
“He told you about my free fall?” she asked, trying to ignore his cold hand moving up towards her heart.
“Yes. Well done, by the way.” His fingers came to rest on her left shoulder. “You had an arrow pierce your shoulder,” he said. “A deadly wound.”
“Apparently not. I’m still here.”
“Yes, but had you been mortal, you would have died. How did it happen? I thought the mighty Warrior could not be hurt. After all the battles you’ve been in, you’ve hardly ever ‘died’,” he made air quotes around this last word.
“Next time you try to dodge fifty arrows at once and end up with only one in your shoulder, you let me know.”
“The archers would be dead before they were ever able to grab their bows,” he said matter-of-factly, his hand once again moving across her abdomen. “Why did you not use your powers?”
“I try to push myself to the limit. I prefer a fair fight.”
“That was hardly fair. Fifty of them aga
inst you. They didn’t stand a chance.” He smiled cruelly, “But I do.”
With his index finger, he traced a line starting at her leg on the right side and moving up diagonally to below one of her left ribs. It was an old wound she recognized immediately, even though the scar had faded long ago.
“The mark of treason,” Death chuckled. “This is good. Must have been hard for you,” he said faking sympathy.
“Why don’t you cut the crap and just get to the point?” she asked annoyed.
“I need to know what you and your friends are up to. What are you planning? How do you want to thwart off our own plans?”
“By adding some color to your life. Black is way too boring!”
“Trust me, you want to answer willingly. Because, otherwise, it will hurt. And,” he quickly added before she spoke, “I want serious and honest answers. You know what I need and it is not your sarcasm.”
“Bite me!”
“No. I won’t bite. I do much worse.” His hand hovered above her old shoulder wound for an instant, then he slowly brought it down, his index finger’s nail touching her warm, bare skin. He pressed down, penetrating the skin. The wound blackened, and she felt poison coursing through her veins. It burned. Heka gritted her teeth. “Some people,” said Death, looking impassive, “think that death is preferable to life sometimes. Too bad you do not have the luxury of choice. Now tell me, how do you plan to defeat us?”
“By clipping off your nails,” she said through clenched teeth. “You ought to shorten them a bit. A manicure would do you some good.”
“No thanks.” He twisted his nail out and proceeded to renew the other wound he’d found. Only a little blood flowed from them, but the wounds hurt. A lot.
“Call on your companion,” he ordered.
“No thanks.” She breathed rapidly as the poison spread from her shoulder and abdomen.
“Fine,” Atos said lightly. He moved his hand, holding it above her heart. Death discharged some of his power and her body tensed, pain throbbing in her wounds and spreading throughout her entire body. But she did not scream. She would not give him the satisfaction. After some time, he stepped back a little, watching Heka breathe shallowly, her face contorted in pain.