by Mike Truk
Valeria was knocked out on her back, a steaming, bloody wound bubbling in the center of her stomach. Brielle’s arm hung limply by her side, her shoulder a churned mess as if someone had taken a serrated plow to it. Imogen was sinking to her knees, hands pressed to her chest, blood pouring from between her fingers.
The sight shocked me more than my own wound; I lost focus. Drifting down, half-turned, I stared in horror.
“Close ranks!” came the same shout as before. “Level spears!”
I could dimly sense Neveah about to hurl herself upon our foes. I saw Emma move forward to stand before our fallen friends, Victor’s blade held at the ready. Little Meow dropped to her knees beside Valeria, pressing her hands to her horrendous wound.
“Stop,” I whispered, then again, putting all my authority into the cry. “Stop! Neveah! No more!”
“Where are their wards?” I heard Isossa ask. “Did they forget to raise them?”
Emelias was already striding forward, arms raised. “That is quite enough. Master Noah? Attend me.”
I flew down to Valeria’s side. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t fathom that we’d been hit so fast, so hard.
“Little Meow?” I asked.
Emma dropped Victor’s blade to kneel beside Imogen and help her lie back, panic on her face as she surveyed the wound.
“Not good,” said Little Meow, voice strained. “Give me a moment.”
Valeria coughed blood, turning her head from one side to the other, searching blindly. “Noah?”
“Here,” I said, taking her hand. “Here.”
Light was welling up from beneath Little Meow’s fingers.
I could hear Emelias arguing with the guards. Neveah appeared on Valeria’s far side, stepping into my field of vision, her expression grim as she stared down at the fallen warrior.
“Little Meow!” called Emma. “I can’t do this! She’s hurt too bad!”
No. Not Imogen as well.
I squeezed Valeria’s hand, rose to my feet.
All creation in a drop of water, I thought, but my control was shaking, near shattering. I held onto the Vam Mantra with every ounce of will I had, clinging with a desperate need to the clarity and calm it afforded me. Rising to my feet, I turned just as Isossa approached.
“I must admit I’m disappointed,” she said, glancing at my fallen friends. “I thought I sensed power amongst your ranks.”
There was no time for pride. “My friends need help. Is there anything you can do?”
“Personally? Yes. But a moment ago you made your feelings quite clear on my kind.” Isossa studied me. “Are you taking a more pragmatic turn?”
“Little Meow?” Emma’s voice shook.
“Yes,” I said. “We miscalculated. If you can help, I would be grateful.”
“Our healing is not like yours,” said Isossa. “There is nothing I can do about that.”
I closed my eyes. A memory broke forth from the depths in which I’d buried it. Lizbeth and Sarah, both naked and covered in blood; their lips nearly touched as they licked up and down my shaft, both of them gazing up at me, eyes wide and glazed as if feverish with their lust.
I shuddered, locking that memory away.
Hexenmagic healing.
But what was better? To lose my companions, or…?
“Do it,” I rasped.
Isossa inclined her head with mocking courtesy. “As you command.”
I stood there, helpless, and could only watch as Isossa knelt beside Imogen, who lay propped in Emma’s lap.
No time for recriminations, for second-guessing my commands. I’d done the best I could with what little information I had.
Time for damage control.
“Neveah,” I said, striding to where Emelias was conversing with the guards.
Half of them still had their spears leveled at us - but it was the sight of their captain sitting up that gave me pause.
The other guard, the one Valeria had shot in the head, was on his feet. His helm under one arm, he rubbed at the eye he’d lost to her bolt.
“Their chests,” said Neveah, voice low. “Those gems. Look.”
She was right. Each breastplate had sported a black gem, and those of the captain and fallen guard had shattered.
“I’m glad you saw fit to end this exchange,” said Emelias. “That could have gone very badly for you. Nobody has died, am I correct?”
Vasanna extended her arm and was hauled to her feet by a fellow guard. She removed her horse-hair helm, and I saw she was a handsome woman, caramel hair cropped short, with a square jaw and the striking, pallid features of her kind. She considered me with a glare.
“Assaulting the guard is a serious crime,” she said, voice now a rasp. “Don’t think you can hand-wave their transgressions away, Emelias.”
“I don’t intend to,” said the patrician. “But this situation is sufficiently interesting to bring it before the regent. Apprehend them, captain, but attend me: we shall escort them to the palace, not the prison.”
I was all out of options. “Regent? I thought you spoke of a queen.”
“I did,” said Emelias evenly. “But she is not yet of age, being a tender nineteen years old. In her stead rules wise her Excellency, Morgana.”
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll speak with this Morgana.”
“Very gracious of you,” sneered Vasanna. “Surrender your weapons and prepare to be bound.”
“There is no need, no need,” said Emelias, raising his hands and stepping between us. “Trust me, captain. Do you think you’ll pry that Level Six blade from that lady’s fingers without having to kill her first?”
Vasanna stared at Neveah with a moody intensity, brows lowered.
“They have demonstrated themselves unable to resist your attacks. They will not make the same mistake again. Master Noah. You worship the Source, do you not?”
There was no sense in dissembling. I gave a curt nod.
“Then swear by the Source that you and yours will not resist being escorted to the queen, and will comport yourselves with dignity and decorum. Will that suffice, Vasanna?”
The captain pulled on her helm once more and extended her hand so a guard could place her spear within her grip. “Very well. But they are in my custody, and I shall deal with them most harshly if they test me again.”
“They won’t,” said Emelias. “As long as Noah swears. Noah?”
I turned to regard my companions. Little Meow was bent over Valeria, still pouring her healing energies into the gut wound. Emma was cradling Imogen as Isossa crouched before her, head lowered. Dull purple light emanated from between her fingers where they were laid over the sucking chest wound. Brielle stood to one side, ashen-faced, blade held in her left hand, her right arm red with gore from her terrible shoulder wound.
My own side ached with dull insistence, and I felt light-headed from the shock of the magic spear that had punched right through me. Only Manipura kept my knees from buckling.
“I swear by the Source to go peacefully to your queen, and will comport myself with dignity and decorum,” I said, voice wooden.
“I declare myself satisfied,” said Emelias. “Vasanna?”
The captain sniffed. “Very well. We shall go straight to the palace as soon as his injured companions are capable of walking.”
“Excellent. See to your people, Noah.”
I needed no second bidding. I turned, nearly stumbling, and walked to where Isossa was healing Imogen. How bad would the corruption be? What would a corrupted Imogen be capable of? I’d had no choice, but that didn’t make this any less of a shit show.
“How is she?” I asked.
“Her spirit is strong,” said Isossa. “And my powers of healing are even stronger. She will recover.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Emma. Help Brielle.”
“I -yes,” said Emma, slipping out from under Imogen and gently laying her on the bloody slate road. “But -you’re injured? Damn, Noah, there’s a freaking hole thro
ugh you -”
“See to Brielle,” I grated. “I’m fine.”
She went to argue, but something about my expression made her simply nod and turn away.
“You’re going to collapse if you don’t have that tended to,” said Neveah softly by my side.
“Once the others are healed,” I said.
Neveah placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. I drew a surprising amount of comfort from the gesture; my mind and spirit were roiling, both with the pain of my wound and the shock of our terrible defeat.
“I know we’re fucked,” I said. “But just how badly do you think we’re fucked?”
“They’re not slaughtering us in the street,” said Neveah. She looked calm and composed, but her gaze was restless, constantly sweeping the street and moving back to the guard. “Our use of a great portal has intrigued them. They’ll interrogate us before taking further action.”
There was nothing else to say. I stood there, fighting the urge to allow my eyes to grow unfocused, ever more light-headed. I watched as Isossa withdrew her hands and stood, leaving Imogen asleep on the road, the wound erased and only blood-smeared skin visible through the tear in Imogen’s dress.
“She is healed,” said the pale woman. Her gaze drifted down to my wound, then flicked up to meet my eyes. “Do you want me to take care of you as well?”
“No, thank you.”
Her smile was mirthless. “You need not fear my touch. Many crave it.”
“I’m not one of those.”
“Not yet, at any rate. There is time.” With a mocking smile, she brushed past me to return to Emelias’s side.
“Imogen,” I said, carefully kneeling by her side and gently touching her shoulder. “Can you hear me?”
She frowned, a vertical line appearing between her brows, then reached up with her gloved hands to remove her circular glasses, eyes still closed. “Yes. I… I feel…”
“Strange,” I said. “I know. You just got a dose of Hexenmagic healing. We didn’t have a choice. Lilith’s power will be working on you. Looking to… fuck. I don’t even know. Change you? Corrupt you? Like what happened to me in Peruthros. With Lizbeth and Sarah.”
Imogen opened her eyes, listening intently; then, to my surprise, she smiled. “Don’t worry. I think Lilith’s magic will find me a tougher victim, given my years and years of holding Harmiel at bay.”
“I sure hope so,” I said. “We’re in serious trouble. If you started going crazy like I did, I don’t even know what we’d do.”
With a grimace, Imogen sat up. “The others?”
I looked over to where Little Meow had finally sat back, shoulders rounded, looking exhausted. Valeria had sat up, rubbing at her stomach, her face pale and beaded with sweat.
Sweet relief rushed through me.
“Alive,” I said. “But we’re banged up. They’re taking us to meet their queen and her regent. I swore on the Source to go peacefully. Didn’t see any other choice.”
“We don’t have any,” said Imogen. “It’s wise to know when you’re defeated. We’ll speak with this Morgana and somehow we’ll turn the situation to our advantage.”
“I love your optimism,” I said, feeling none of it myself. “Can you stand?”
“Yes.” She extended her hands to Neveah, who pulled her easily to her feet. “And you need to get that wound seen to.”
“Yes.” With great effort, I arose as well. The pain was terrible. It would have laid me low not too long ago, but after my experiences within the manifold in Tagimron, it was now manageable.
Emma was still working on Brielle’s shoulder, eyes closed, focusing fiercely, so I walked over to Valeria and Little Meow.
“Hey,” I said, dropping rather abruptly into a crouch that nearly became a spill. “You still with the living?”
“Thanks to Little Meow,” said Valeria, sounding dazed. “I… I didn’t even see the attack coming.”
“Ur-Gharab’s going to be a whole new ball of tricks,” I said. “We’re going to have to get our shit together if we want to compete in this new crowd. But that’s for later. We’re heading to see their queen. Had no choice. Can you walk?”
“Yes,” said Valeria. “At least, I think so.”
“Thank god,” I said, cupping the nape of her neck to pull her in so I could touch my brow to hers. “I ended the fight the moment I saw you were down. You scared the shit out of me. I don’t know what I’d do if we lost you.”
“I’m sorry,” said Valeria, voice growing thick with emotion. “I didn’t mean to -”
“No,” I said, cutting in. “That’s not what I meant. I just…” My mind was rapidly drowning in cotton wool. “I just can’t tell you how glad I am that you’re all right.”
For a moment we just stayed thus, brows touching, then she laid her hand over my own. “Thank you.”
I kissed her, rose with a grunt to my feet, this time stumbling. Neveah was there and slipped under my arm to steady me.
“Noah,” said Little Meow in alarm, rising to her feet. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see - here, sit down.”
Neveah helped me sit, and I resisted the urge to just lie down altogether. Instead, I sat straight as Little Meow placed her hand over my wound.
“You doing all right?” I asked.
“Me? You’re the one with the horrific wound.”
“You just dragged Valeria back from the brink of death. That had to take a lot out of you.”
White light began smoldering from beneath her fingers, and burning pain radiated into my wound from her palm as she stimulated my healing.
“Yes. I’m… I’m going to need time to rest after this. But somehow, I doubt we’re going to get it. Noah, they’re Morathi. All of them. Do you know the term?”
Shit. Now I saw it. The same pale features, the same stark, alien beauty as the queen I’d struck down in Ghogiel’s great ruined city of Peruthros.
“They’re Lilith’s chosen,” whispered Little Meow. “Her most dedicated soldiers. Most of them are said to be great mages as well. No matter what happens or what they say, we cannot trust them.”
“No danger of that,” I said, mind clearing as my wound prickled and burned, making it hard to draw breath. “But good to know.”
“There,” said Little Meow. “It’ll be sore, but you shouldn’t keel over dead, either. Maybe I can try some more healing later when I’ve recovered a little?”
“Thanks,” I said, rising to my feet. “You’re a lifesaver.”
My companions gathered around me, all of us aware that we were being carefully scrutinized. Emma had managed to heal most of Brielle’s wound, then fashioned a sling for her wounded arm with a long strip torn from her cloak. Valeria’s gaze was hollow, her skin pale so that even her golden tan seemed wan, and Little Meow stumbled for a moment before taking a deep breath and pushing her shoulders back.
“They’re so powerful,” said Emma, pitching her voice low. “We gave them our best and now they’re all back on their feet?”
“Some kind of healing reservoir in those gems,” I said. “I don’t think they can pull off that trick twice. But yeah. Looks like we’ve moved up into a whole different league here. For now, we’re going to have to play nice or get our asses handed to us again.”
Imogen nodded. “I’d guess everyone here wears amulets against psyche-imperium. That’s another power of ours neutralized.”
“As long as we’re wearing our own amulets,” I said. “That’s all I care about. Had enough of getting my mind fucked back in Tagimron.”
“Agreed,” said Imogen. “So on to the palace?”
“To the palace,” I said. “To meet the queen of the Morathi and her regent. Hope she’s nicer than Ghalesha was.”
Imogen gave a curt nod and smoothed down her French Maid’s outfit, adjusted her circular glasses, then gave a tight smile to Brielle, who was watching with obvious concern.
“On to the queen,” said Imogen. “And I’ll do my best to keep my worst impulses at bay
.”
“Stay with her,” I said to Emma. “Watch for that corruption.”
Emma nodded, sheathed Victor’s blade, and took Imogen’s gloved hand in her own.
There was nothing more to say, so I returned to where the guards stood with the other Morathi.
“We shall escort you to the palace gates,” said the captain, her words smoldering with anger. “And see to it that you are handed over to the royal guard. But any more foolishness and I’ll not hold back my men. Am I clear?”
“Clear,” I said, but to myself couldn’t help but think, Foolishness? Our best attacks had failed to permanently drop any of their number, and were being chalked up to a fit of temper?
Holy shit, Gharab was going to be tough.
“Very well,” said Emelias. “Let’s have this matter taken care of, then.”
“Lead on,” I said.
There was no chatter now. I deliberately hung back with my companions, following in a tight group as the Morathi led us down toward the bulk of the city. The wind moaned a funeral dirge as it scythed past us, seeming to barrel down the avenue that curved along the ridge, descending steeply down the street.
The sun had risen a little higher. The golden glow faded from the wisps of cloud above us, and the ragged mountain peaks surrounding the city were now visible in greater detail. Still, the clouds flowed like water between Ur-Gharab’s promontories, cooling now toward gray and cotton-white. The sight was deceiving; at first glance, they seemed static. But watching any one point revealed how they slowly churned along, roiling and pouring between the sharp outcroppings of stone and the spires of rock that emerged here and there from their flow.
While I studied the city, I noticed the air near the peak of the tower had begun to ripple; even as I watched, it swirled into a blue oval through which sailed a gorgeous submarine of some kind.
Its hull was shaped like a huge ivory blade, filigreed with silver embossing along its forward edge. It was breathtakingly beautiful and at once brutal in design and simplicity; a great flying falchion of a submarine, hovering serenely in midair hundreds of yards above the ground, gleaming and pristine as if fashioned from a dream of airships and impossibilities.