Overkill

by Steven Shrewsbury

  Alena’s head dropped as the forms crashed to the surface, wrestling. “Then what is the point of this?”

  Gorias backed away and waved for the rest to do the same. “They have to take on shapes and shells to affect material objects. I’d have not been able to keep him busy like Rhiannon.”

  Nykia shouted, “Busy? Why busy?”

  “Even a demon can be distracted, have an ego, and forget. They aren’t gods, no matter how much they wanna act like it.”

  Hobbled, Pergamus got to his all fours, head quivering. Rhiannon stood behind and by the smile on his face, he didn’t expect Pergamus to curl his wings back and lock up the god’s arms. Pergamus used his wings to flip Rhiannon over his head, planting him into the surface with a thud. Pergamus sprang to his feet, legs restored and unbroken.

  The last of Pergamus’ fancy additions peeled away, he resembled Rhiannon on a larger scale. Gorias’ heart sank as Pergamus crushed Rhiannon to the ground, foot in the pit of his back, and ripped the two leathery wings free. Rhiannon screeched and Gorias felt the tenor down to his toes. Pergamus held up the wings and laughed. He flapped them and mocked the fallen Rhiannon in a rapid series of curses Gorias couldn’t keep up with.

  Though Pergamus dropped the wings and reached into the holes of Rhiannon’s back, a flapping sound still echoed across the rocky land. Pergamus tilted his head, looked around, curious at the sound and planted a knee in Rhiannon’s back.

  Those on the ground started to scoot backwards, eyes to the sky, frozen in fear at what floated there.

  Three forms levitated above them, all in the shape of tall men in white linens, but the one in the middle stood out as different…for his body was born up on six wings instead of two like the beings that flanked him. Their wings weren’t made up of layered feathers, but glittered like a series of polished metal shingles. The sound of beating sliced the air like the falling of a thousand swords. Their faces shone like flickering lightning, thick beams of white light pouring out and spreading, never ceasing to stream from their faces.

  By his expression and from the yelping gasp, Pergamus showed fear at last.

  Gorias turned from the scene and got to his feet. “Run, you fuckers! This is the end!”

  Nykia exclaimed, “But they’re here for him, er, them, right?”

  Gorias shoved her so hard Nykia almost fell. “They don’t give a shit about us, so run for the ship!”

  The beating of the gleaming wings stabbed into their ears, sharp and near tangible.

  Gorias’ ears popped as seams formed in the floor of the island. Everyone turned and ran for the ship, and Gorias followed suit, the last one out of the area as the two demons and the angelic host clashed. Radiance poured from the heavenly beings and their shine overlapped the struggling figures on the floor.

  “Damn you, Rhiannon!” Pergamus wailed. “Damn you, Gorias La Gaul! I’ll be waiting for you in the abyss!” His voice then became lost in the buzz of wings and crackles of energy. “I’ll be waiting, you hear me? For you and all of your children!”

  Gorias didn’t look back and followed the rest as they ran down the slope that had led to the cavern. The hike up had taken several minutes, but the scramble down went quickly. A few fissures developed and Gorias saw one of the pirates fall down into the gap, then be spewed back into the air as ocean water exploded up in a slicing wave.

  The shaking ground sent them all sprawling again, but the sight at the edge of the island made their hearts sink. The pirate vessel was no more, partially sunk, a portion moored to the trembling rock surface, busted asunder. A series of boulders had pelted the ship, destroying the masts, and breaking its spine.

  Pinned to the rocks by an invisible force in the air, Gorias couldn’t breathe as the mountains around them became dust and light belched up into a bubble around the caves. Under his shoulders, the shaking ground lost its hardness and turned to sand, then, to mud, and then, alas, water.

  Gorias closed his eyes as the seawater rushed all around him. His armor heavy, he prepared for this final descent, but still spread out his limbs to best try and ride the waves. However, the current pulled him from the water and he broke the surface again. He thought it the backwash of the falling pieces of the island and thus, that he’d soon plummet into the deep anyway. True to his thoughts, the water sucked him down again. In moments, though, he broke the surface of the water and crashed across a sector of the destroyed pirate ship. Shaking his head free of water, clasping the piece of floating debris like it were gold, Gorias looked up and saw a yard above him the floating being with six wings.

  “Fare you well, Gorias La Gaul. We keep our bargains.” The baritone voice rippled across the waves, currents that peeled back at the beating of the lower four wings. The perfect, nearly sculpted face showed no emotion as it said, “Deliverance will come.”

  And the Seraphim was gone. He didn’t fly into the sky; he just disappeared.

  For a moment, Gorias buoyed along alone. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He never cried but almost felt like it. Almost.

  CHAPTER XIII

  Long WAY Home

  Gorias clung to a floating section of the hull, bobbing in the water with Nykia suddenly up and on his back. “Get next to me, Princess, I ain’t that strong.”

  Nykia slid off and swung a leg over the hull. Higher up in the water, she pointed to a few other survivors. “Look, Alena swims this way.”

  “I knew she’d make it.”

  “Knew or hoped?”

  Gorias took great gasps of air. “Don’t argue absolutes now.”

  Alena swam up and never took hold of the debris, content to trend ocean water for a moment. “Glad you two made it.”

  “Show off,” Gorias laughed, betting those thighs of hers could crush a beer mug at will.

  A loud bellow echoed and some of the glass balls of dragonfire bobbed to the surface with the Cytaur riding two of them. His one eye blinking fast, the creature gasped for air and hugged the balls of flickering light under his arms for support.

  Allard rowed up in a small life raft undamaged from the destruction of the pirate vessel.

  Gorias frowned. “That fuckin’ guy and his luck, better than Orsen’s.” He thought for a moment and asked, “Where did Orsen get to?”

  Alena took hold on the hull and swept her long locks out of her face. “He stayed with the army.”

  “Huh,” Gorias pondered it but a second more. “Weird.”

  Nykia climbed in the boat and Alena started to, nearly tipping it over, but she made it in. In a few minutes, Gorias and the Cytaur also got inside the craft.

  After several minutes of breathing hard and Allard rowing them a little distance from where they started, Nykia scanned the water and asked, “Is that all?”

  Alena replied, “It appears so.”

  Nykia looked to Gorias. “Now what?”

  Taking measured, deep breaths, Gorias motioned toward Allard. “Looks like we are headed back to Transalpina. I think with the old man rowing, we’ll make it there in a couple years.”

  Alena slapped Allard’s thigh and leaned back. “Relax a minute. We survived the wake of the island sinking. If anything else pops out to kill us…” She faced Gorias. “Are they gone?”

  “Pergamus and Rhiannon? I’d say so, from this realm at least. Stories abound that the fallen ones who are reined in go to the abyss and can’t get out again.”

  Nykia said, “I’d think if the angels are so powerful they could easily track down errant demons. Don’t they leave footprints in the ether realm or give off signs of their evil ways?”

  Gorias shrugged. “One would think. However, maybe they have better things to do than always be on patrol for their fallen brothers.”

  Alena asked, “Why wouldn’t God or the gods tell these angels where the demons are hiding? Doesn’t he know all?”

  Gorias sighed loud. “I don’t really feel like religious discussions now. What’s next on this damned raft? Politics? Gardening?”


  Alena and Nykia looked away opposite directions, miffed, but Allard smirked.

  Gorias kicked Alena’s boot. “Lighten up. Even the Cytaur is laughing at you two but ya can’t tell.”

  Once she shot the Cytaur a hard look, Alena said, “It’s not a wonder so many fall into false practices when the gods give out confusing signals.”

  Gorias settled back and breathed regularly. “It’s a big universe, darlin’ girl. We all try to put our visions of right, wrong and God in a tiny box. There’s a day coming soon in the world, so they say, when if one has a little faith ya better get ready to whip it out and polish it finely.”

  Allard said, “Is it really true they say the gods will destroy the world for its wicked ways?”

  Gorias rubbed his eyes. “That’s the story. It’s an old one.”

  Nykia asked, “Do you believe it?”

  “Who knows?” Gorias yawned. “These things come in ages, if ya live long enough. Every generation thinks theirs is the last and they’ve got it all figured out. Who the hell could ever know?”

  Alena stated, “For a man known to the angelic host, by name, have you ever heard tell of it?”

  “The angels don’t know dick about such things. They follow orders and take care of things.”

  Allard put down the paddle and pointed with his right hand. “I see our deliverance is at hand!”

  All eyes stared at the sight of the huge naval vessel approaching on the sea over the horizon.

  Despite the fact that Nykia and Alena exchanged glad looks, Gorias scowled. “The last time we saw the Transalpina navy, what happened?”

  Deflated, the girls fell silent.

  Allard offered, “Perhaps we can hope for the best?”

  “Yeah,” Gorias grunted. “If they ask us if we’ve seen the Bahamut, just act natural.”

  *****

  They’d all talked it out and readied themselves for a couple eventualities. When Gorias saw Thynnes’ face high up above them, he burst into laughter.

  “Well, I’ve never been so happy to lay eyes on a prick, aside from the day my eldest son was born. Hey up there, ya old dog!”

  Allard grabbed Gorias’ wrist. “Don’t you think kindness might be better than jovial slams?”

  “Meh, he came all this way for us.”

  Nykia offered, “Hopefully not to make sure we’re dead.”

  Thynnes cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Ho down there! We’re letting down a damned ladder for you all! The Queen will be overjoyed you are alive.”

  Gorias shouted back, “Not half as glad as we are.”

  In minutes, the rope ladder unraveled. Allard was quick to grab it and climb on. Nykia and Alena exchanged a look as Allard climbed fast above them.

  Alena said to Nykia, “You go first. That way I’ll break your fall if you drop.”

  Nykia blinked. “You’re serious.”

  Alena replied, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  With a sigh, Nykia climbed on the ladder. Alena waited until Allard got aboard before she put a boot on the first wrung.

  Gorias slapped her ass and she twisted, grinning at him. He then got on the ladder after Nykia went up a ways.

  Starting to climb up, Gorias heard Thynnes laughing. “Just what I need, another set of hands to turn the turbines.” Gorias looked down to see the Cytaur, one hand on the rope ladder, one hoof still in the boat. Thynnes yelled down, “C’mon, ya bastard. I can use ya like always.”

  The Cytaur took one of the long horns and nudged Gorias’ boot. Gorias reached down and took the horn, reading much in the look he received from the Cytaur. The creature then let go of the rope, turned his back on the vessel, and stepped into the sea. He sank like a stone, holding the other horn to his chest. A silence swept the scene, broken suddenly by Thynnes’ laughter. Gorias looked down, armed up the horn under his armpit and shook his head.

  After Thynnes chuckled at the Cytaur dying instead of returning to servitude, Gorias shook his head again and gazed across the sea.

  Thynnes jeered him as he climbed, saying, “The mighty warrior of renown laments the passing of a creature not meant to be alive?”

  “That’s the easy way around it for some folks,” Gorias replied, still looking away. “Those things, by common belief in humanity, shouldn’t be alive in the first place, so, it’s easy to treat them like monsters.”

  Thynnes’ smile faded. “They’re stupid beasts, not far from the cattle they were bred ill from.”

  Gorias shrugged and handed the long horn to Alena. “So you say. It’s a strange justification for abusing that which is different, granted. That one there under the waves? He fought like a warrior and was a pretty noble creature, all in all. I respect nobility wherever I can find it.” Boots on the deck at last, he faced Thynnes. “God knows the upper crust in this world is lacking in what they drape themselves in, nobility.”

  Thynnes smiled again, then hooted heartily. “I’m glad you’re alive, ya old sonofabitch, to bitch about the passing of a cow.”

  Orsen emerged from among the sailors and solders. Alena smiled at first, but her look hardened when she saw her sister, Milli. The two tall ladies said nothing to each other but took up positions flanking Nykia. Orsen walked over and smiled at Gorias.

  “Kid, glad yer alive.”

  “And you as well, Lord La Gaul.”

  Nykia approached Gorias. “I never did tell you who the dragonfire was for in Transalpina, via our contacts.”

  Gorias stretched, then leaned back on the guardrail of the vessel. “I’m damned curious and have a few targets in mind. Any time ya would care to enlighten me with your version of the truth, go ahead.”

  Alena stepped in front of Nykia. “When Thynnes crucified one of the pirates, I gave him a merciful death and he told me it was the wizard, Yannick.” She turned and faced Nykia. “Correct?”

  Nykia blinked, mouth open, and nodded. Eyes cast down, she affirmed, “The same wizard who inked my tats here and those of Orsen, yes.”

  Gorias frowned. “That lying little twat. I’ll gouge out his eyes…”

  Alena added, “I suspected him from the start, Gorias. He must barter the fire to whoever is doing the killings in the capitol. I doubt he could sneak around and do such things, being who he is and all.”

  “Damn him,” Gorias raged, fists clenched. “Make ‘em a prognosticator and they still wanna roll the bones and do bad things. Rotten bastards.” Gorias held out his arms. “I smell like Dagon’s ass. Anywhere to get cleaned up on this berg?”

  Thynnes turned to his officers and Colonel Schou stepped forward to say, “I believe there are shower facilities powered by a new device that purifies the sea water.”

  “Fantastic,” Gorias replied, and then looked to the girls. “Alena, you and yer sister oughta get her a bit more presentable before meeting the Queen.”

  While Alena eyed Nykia, the pirate girl popped back; “I guess I have no more say in the matter?”

  Hands dangling at his sides, Gorias snapped, “Not really, sister. Your friends and owners are dead or at the bottom of the sea.” He looked at Allard and then back to Nykia. “I aim to see you deposited back into the safe graces of Queen Garnet and that’ll be that.” Gorias’ eyes narrowed at her. “What? With all yer talk of me staying around…”

  Thynnes chuckled. “She is contemplating riding off into the sunset with her hero, not staying behind to be a monarch.”

  Nykia’s chin snapped up and her eyes blazed at the General. “Your future monarch, if you think about it long enough, old man.”

  Thynnes humor faded, but he took up no anger. “You aren’t Queen yet, missy, and besides, I’m about too old to be a threat or scared of much.”

  Alena added, “It’d be wise to cultivate the respect of the military, ma’am.”

  Nykia trembled for a moment, like walls enclosed her.

  Gorias said gently, “You’ll be fine. Garnet ain’t dying any time soon. She’ll learn ya good like it should be. Now, go wash up
and let’s get something to eat. I ain’t nowhere near as young as I used to be.” He then looked across the waters. “And this thing ain’t quite done, yet.”

  Alena started to loosen her tunic and asked Gorias, “Once this is over, where is next for you?”

  “I might just go see my grandson in Shynar. I haven’t seen him in a long time.”

  Thynnes coughed and spat. “Shynar? Cradle of the world? Bah, there is bad witchery from Lord Nosmada’s realm near there. I’d stay away if I were you.”

  “But you aren’t me,” Gorias reminded him. “It’s a bitch being me, but hey, it’s been fun so far. Kinda. Naw, Maddox is a good lad and I need to see him.”

  Alena’s head tilted at Gorias, reading much into his words and mannerisms. She turned away and started toward the captain’s cabin.

  While the others shrank away, Nykia approached Gorias. “You say you’re going to see your grandson in Shynar. That’s halfway around the world, from what I remember. Will you come back?”

  “Sure,” Gorias said with a smile. “I promise.”

  “Please don’t lie to me.”

  “I’m not, but I’m gettin’ old, sweetheart. I might meet God on the plains of Shynar. If I do, well…”

  “He might be pissed?”

  Gorias shook his head. “God loves guys like me. He has a hard-on for warriors, for we send so many souls to Hell for him.”

  “That’s just crazy.”

  “Kinda sounds funny, though.”

  *****

  Several hours passed before Gorias La Gaul again stepped onto the deck. He’d cleaned up down below deck in the sailors’ quarters and even let one of the lads wipe down his armor. He’d watched the sailor, maybe sixteen years old, probably simple if in the service so young, caress the nails on his armlets. Surely, dreams billowed in the head of that sailor, he mused, but Gorias didn’t ask.

  After he cleaned up and took care of necessities, he lay down in one of the sailor’s bunks. His joints ached and tremors stabbed across the left side of his chest. Eyes closed, he breathed steadily, trying to recall mental games he’d learned to lower the pounding in his ears. In minutes, this dissipated, but as he laid his forearm across his face, Gorias understood his time was limited.