by Joe Jackson
Raising his hand yet again, the cracked beams and timbers of the destroyed inn flew to form a cage around Seanada. He hardly paused to admire his handiwork before he charged at Kari. She was able to deflect his attacks, but had to keep giving ground and circling to keep from getting overrun. He was powerful and she was injured; her stamina was not going to hold out for long against such an onslaught. She had to think of something quickly, and with the way the prince counteracted their arcane attempts, it had to be something martial.
Kari tried disarming him or riposting, but both proved fruitless, his reach too great for her to overcome without setting up a way to step in on him first. If he kept her to the outside, he could just wear her down without her ever getting close enough to harm him. She had taken off his lower greaves, but that did her little good when she was kept over half a dozen feet away.
Come now. You have only minutes to defeat me and save your friends. Stop delaying and bring the fight to me.
The Wraith’s words came back to her mind and she realized she was making a terrible mistake: she was fighting Amnastru as she would when she was wearing her paluric armor and wielding her scimitars. She was wearing heavier, inferior armor, that was true, but the waushims had different strengths and weakness than her scimitars, much as they felt the same to wield. Kari had to bring the fight to Amnastru, and she realized her best option.
Kari lunged, drawing the expected short chop. She sidestepped and then stepped in, and his blade came at her sideways. She deflected it, stepped back the other way and in another step. Amnastru was forced to adjust his attack angles and try to step back to reestablish distance, and Kari suppressed a smile. She had him on the defensive, which was not where his strength lay. A few weeks before, fighting offensively would not have been where Kari’s strength lay, and it still wasn’t, honestly. But she just had to make one adjustment…
She balked, then took a step back, and he took the bait, trying to crush her with that great overhead chop of his. Kari caught it on the haft of her left waushim, ignoring the bone-tingling impact as she intercepted his strength with less than an inch of metal. She turned, brought her other waushim around, and with hand-eye coordination that would have impressed a brys, she slid her waushim so his sword was caught between her blade and haft. She twisted hard, trying to wrest the weapon from him, and took a punch across the jaw for her efforts.
As hard as he’d hit her, she didn’t go down or even stagger all that much. Her wits were a bit scrambled and she spat out a considerable ball of blood and saliva, but this mallasti body absorbed impacts better than her rir one would. With only one hand on his blade, he lost control of his weapon and Kari sent both of them skidding across the plaza. She stepped in again and threw a straight kick into his knee with a thud, then slashed upward slightly at the joint between the leg and groin of his armor.
This time, she didn’t hold back.
A spray of blood told her she’d cut through the armor, but rather than fall away, he hit her again, this time squarely enough to knock her prone. Kari scrambled backwards, trying to shake away the stars that clouded her vision, but he wasn’t charging after her. She had hurt him badly, and he was holding a hand to the wound, trying to seal it, likely in similar fashion to the way Prince Fesarri had when Kari nearly disemboweled him. The demonhunter got back to her feet and looked around as she heard the thunder of drums, the march cadence of a sizeable army.
Running out of time, she thought.
Prince Amnastru summoned his sword back to his hand, the blade disentangling itself from Kari’s waushim as it flew to him. She rolled the haft of her weapon onto the top of her foot and then kicked it up into her hand. Her wounds were healing slowly, but she had to hope that even after having healed the wound, Amnastru might be a bit fatigued by what she’d done to him. She moved toward him to re-engage, knowing full well an army was coming, and it was entirely possible they’d join whoever was left standing – or whoever looked more likely to win.
Seanada broke free of her cage at last, and had a bestial gleam in her eyes. “I understand now!” she said with a cackle. “So sadistic, so vicious. It’s in your very blood! Well, now you can feel what it is you so casually inflict on others!”
She gestured with a hiss, and the wound Kari had inflicted ripped back open with another spray of blood. The prince screamed. He tried to throw Seanada away across the plaza again, but she deflected it with his own power turned against him. He stumbled to his left. The sound of drums now echoed off the buildings as the armies entered the streets. All Amnastru had to do was stay alive and on his feet for several more minutes, and all hope would be lost.
You have only minutes to defeat me and save your friends.
Kari screamed as the wounds of her chest ripped back open. “Seanada, what are you doing?” she growled through gritted teeth.
The half-succubus shook her head. “No! No, I’m sorry. I can’t…I can’t control it.”
She disappeared in a rush of wind with a pop, but the damage was done. Kari couldn’t muster the strength to go for the coup-de-grace with her chest cut up. Amnastru was trying to repair the damage to his pelvis again, but he was drained; Kari could almost taste it as much as see it. But it mattered little as the sound of marching feet filled the central square.
Kari looked over just as the first column of soldiers came around the destroyed inn, and suddenly hope flooded back into her. There, at the front of the column, was the handsome elestram form of the Wraith, posing as Shadak. Walking beside him, his demeanor one of calm, patience, and confidence, was King Emanitar Te’Mordrin.
“You…,” Prince Amnastru hissed. “Get out of my father’s realm!”
“Hmmm, he certainly is assertive for someone wounded and alone, is he not?” Emanitar asked the Wraith. “Mastriana, have you need of assistance?”
“No. I’ve got this,” Kari said. “This fool’s had this coming for some time.”
She wasn’t sure how she could have forgotten. Forgotten everything she had spent the better part of two lifetimes learning. She healed fast, yes. But she had the power of Zalkar to call upon in battle. She let his power flow through her veins. His symbol didn’t appear; he obviously knew what it was she was about. But the wounds of her chest healed partially through his power, and her Sakkrass-granted ability took care of the rest. And what was more, Zalkar’s power drove away the fatigue of battle and wounds.
Kari approached. Prince Amnastru cut at her viciously, but his healing was far from efficient or sufficient. His leg gave way, and Kari seized her chance. She didn’t swing for an immediate kill; she took his legs out from under him, slicing up both of his knees in the process. She drove him onto his back and dove atop him, bringing the blade of her waushim down to stab him through the heart. He caught it with his sword, and began to push both back toward Kari’s throat, his fangs bared in a hiss.
“I am still stronger than you!” he spat.
“You are,” she returned. “But you’re not stronger than us.”
The waushim changed direction again, and Amnastru’s eyes widened in shock as Kari easily overpowered him. It was not solely her strength, but the blasphemous prince wouldn’t understand that. And he had no time to learn. The pointed tip of the waushim’s blade pressed against his breastplate, then punctured it like it was nothing. The blade slid to his sternum and then through it, and Kari leaned over and held his stare as she drove the blade into his heart.
Amnastru drew in a gasping wheeze and Kari growled, “That’s for all my sisters you and your father have murdered. Don’t worry; he’ll be joining you in hell soon enough.”
The life bled out of his eyes, and then Kari stood in one swift motion and relieved him of his head. Silence pervaded the square, and Kari looked around at all the shocked faces. She couldn’t know what these people felt, as much as she might sympathize with them. She was glad so many of them had turned so easily to Emanitar’s service, but ultimately, the armies and even the rebellion were not her mo
st immediate concern.
“Seanada?” she asked the air. “Where did you go, my friend?”
King Emanitar approached at last, the Wraith’s elestram form behind him a few steps and the soldiers taking up positions around the square. The mallasti king stopped before Kari, admired her work, and then turned a muted smile her way. “You look terrible…again.”
“I look a lot better than he does,” she returned. She turned to the Wraith, who stepped beside the mallasti king. “Do you know where Seanada went? She…attacked me by mistake, then teleported away. She drank Amnastru’s blood, and she lost control. It wasn’t her fault.”
“I suspect I know where she went, then,” he answered. “Worry not; we will make certain she does not harm herself.”
Kari hadn’t really considered that, but now she could hardly not think about it. Still, there were more immediate concerns. She dropped to one knee before King Emanitar. “All has been done as you asked, Your Majesty.”
“I should say so,” he agreed, gesturing for her to rise. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Your sister will arrive shortly, so your exodus will hardly be noticed. You may leave at your discretion, so long as you do so out of sight. Morduri and I will have much to say to you, but it can wait. Do not let us keep you here any longer than you wish to stay.”
“Is he meeting you here or somewhere nearby?” Kari asked. “I want to say goodbye to him before I go.”
There was a twinkle in Emanitar’s eye, but he simply nodded. “I will send word to him that you wish to see him.” He turned to the elestram assassin. “See to it our special envoy does not arrive before King Morduri; departure and arrival must coincide.”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” the Wraith said, but his eyes remained fixed upon Kari. “If I could in this form, I would give you a hug. You have performed far beyond our expectations.”
“You mean you thought I’d screw up?” Kari teased.
There was momentary confusion as they puzzled out what she was trying to say indirectly in beshathan, but then both men chuckled. “Far from it.”
Vrissi came into the plaza and approached, and she bowed stiffly before Emanitar. “My lord,” she said. “Or should I address you now as Your Majesty?”
“Do you accept me as your king?” he returned.
“I do, Your Majesty,” she answered him and herself at the same time, bowing again. She turned to Prince Amnastru’s corpse, then Kari. “Each time I find you, you seem to be in worse shape. Come, let me afford you the comforts of my home again, until you have recovered.”
Kari looked at King Emanitar, and the syrinthian woman bowed to him again. “You are, of course, quite welcome in my home as well, Your Majesty. You and your…associate.”
“I have things to see to, but I will see you again soon,” the Wraith said to Kari.
“See you soon,” she echoed. Then she and Emanitar followed Vrissi to the comforts of home.
*****
No word came from the Wraith about Seanada the next day. Kari spent the day following King Emanitar around the city as he began fortifying it and speaking with its citizens. It wasn’t surprising to see the people bowing to him willingly, but the staggering thing was the number of women who came out, crying, and kissed his feet. If Kari had any doubts about these people embracing King Emanitar, the reactions would have made her feel foolish.
Of greater interest to her, though, was his reaction. Kari wasn’t sure if the beshathan and syrinthian people could see or sense it, but there was an undertone of guilt there. Kari couldn’t say why the mallasti king had waited so long to make such a move, particularly after Sekassus had nearly killed him. Was there truth to his claim that he had plans, and was simply waiting for the opportune time to strike?
She thought of her taunt, asking him if he enjoyed being a coward. It had been meant solely as a prod, but she could see now that it was largely untrue. He had crossed the border with no army at his back, no protections from the princes or the people if they rejected his claim. He had laid it all on the line. If what Kari had been learning these last couple of years was true, the general populace really offered little threat to Emanitar, but he didn’t strike Kari as the type who would enjoy wiping out a population to defend himself.
Emanitar moved himself and Kari to another inn not too far from Vrissi’s home, and he ordered the rebuilding of the destroyed inn as his first non-military order. Kari kept mostly out of his way while he assigned assistants and messengers to get as much information about the city as he could. Conquest was far from his sole concern.
Kari warned him of the presence of the demons, but he wasn’t worried about them. They were merely the Overking’s spies, and would care little that two kings were fighting. It would be a topic of discussion at the Council session, obviously, but so long as his laws and rules were observed, the Overking apparently cared little about who killed who. Kari was left to wonder how concerned he was about general populations being killed; after all, citizens dying meant his army was ultimately smaller. Did he even care?
Kari slept well that second night, and woke with the dawn feeling refreshed. A bit of the stress of the many battles remained, but her body had healed, her mind was clear again, and she was ready to go home once she bid farewell to the man responsible for her being here. Just the thought of him now made her smile. Was this yet a product of being turned into a mallasti? She honestly couldn’t say; she wasn’t in love with him in a true sense, but she did love him on some level. In him, she believed she had found the first of hopefully many kings, princes, and nobles she could trust here on Mehr’Durillia.
Morduri arrived late in the afternoon with the legion that had been guarding the border at his back. Word was spreading fast; while Kari didn’t think Sekassus would fall so quickly or easily, his army and holding were being whittled away at surprising speed. Now, Emanitar had at least a legion and a half at his back, and King Morduri was directly involved. Sekassus would soon learn his crown prince and at least three others were dead, The Vandrasse was a traitor, and two kings had invaded his southern holding.
That was to say nothing of the explosion at Sekassus’ palace, or whatever the continued attacks the Wraith had mentioned might be. It was certainly not a fun time to be the King of Sorelizar…
The people were confused at Morduri’s arrival with an army at his back, but when he and his “uncle” embraced, their excitement and hope both peaked. Once it was clear there would be no fight between the two, the citizens of Shisaevas began to take an interest in Morduri. It was not lost on Kari that many of the elestram females – and mallasti ones, for that matter – took more than a passing interest in the elestram king. She chuckled as she recalled the old Anthraxis Council Codex referring to him as “one of the underworld’s most eligible bachelors.”
“I have to say, I’m surprised to find you still here,” he said when he approached Kari. He took her in an embrace, and she didn’t resist at all. When they separated, he looked into her eyes and smiled. “When I asked you to pay your debt, I had no idea it would turn out this way.”
“Nobody back home is going to believe what’s happened here,” she agreed.
“So why are you still here?”
“I wanted to see you before I left. Would you come up to my room so we can talk?”
Morduri exchanged a look with Emanitar, who tried valiantly to suppress a laugh and a smirk, though he lost both battles. The elestram king gestured for Kari to lead the way, and he followed her silently until the door closed behind him. To his credit, despite being amused, he didn’t laugh or make any faces at Kari. His eyes read pride first and foremost, and he held up the large rucksack he’d brought with him from Ewuaswi.
“Here are your armor and weapons,” he said, setting the satchel beside the nightstand. Kari approached and stood before him, looking up into those mystifying purple eyes. “What is it you wanted to talk about? Or did you just fancy one last go before you leave?”
“No, that’s…wel
l, yes, but that wasn’t…,” she trailed off. “I guess that’s sort of related to what I wanted to talk to you about. Morduri, what…uh, Lord Irrasitus…”
He touched a clawed finger to the end of her nose to shut her up, then leaned down and kissed her. His tongue was sweet against hers, and she laughed inside at the oddness of the way these people kissed. He drew back after a moment, though, and smiled again. “I think you have earned to the right to call me Morduri in any but the most formal of occasions,” he said. “Aside from when we stand in Anthraxis or before my people, you may call me casually.”
Kari returned his smile, but it didn’t last. “Morduri, what would you say if I told you I might be pregnant?”
He stared at her for a silent stretch, as if waiting for her to laugh or crack a smile. When neither happened, he finally snorted. “Not possible. Kari, had you been in season, I would have been able to smell it. And we would have taken precautions.”
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely. By now you must have noticed you can smell and even almost taste certain things, yes? Females presenting signs of being in season are never a secret. They don’t affect us the way they might an animal; the pheromones aren’t that strong. But we know. I would have known. That would have been a very strange position for us to have ended up in.”
“That bad?”
He chuckled, but it became obvious why when he answered, “No, not bad. Complicated, yes, but not bad. What made you think you might have been pregnant?”
“I don’t know. I’m obviously not used to being mallasti, but this body has been acting a little strange lately. I’ve been sick a few times in the last few days, and, well…I don’t want to get into gross details. It’s not how our bodies react to getting pregnant as rir, but a mallasti isn’t anything like a rir, so…”
Morduri shook his head. “Nothing to worry about,” he said. “I’m afraid if you want to have more children, you’re going to have to find that man back home you’re always thinking of.”