by Lucas Thorn
But, at the last second, she swivelled and drove A Flaw in the Glass into his chest. Had to push down with her forearm across the butt of the blade to split his sternum with her weight. But the enchanted blade cracked through bone and found his heart.
Destroyed it.
She wrenched the knife, widening the crack in his chest to allow the blade to slide free. Blood drooling from its curved edge, she turned to face the Grey Jacket who’d been frozen to one side. He was young. They all seemed so young to her.
Violet eyes round.
Mouth half open.
“Don’t run,” she said, striding slowly toward him. “It pisses me off when you run.”
Mesmerised, perhaps, he didn’t even try to defend himself as the dark enchantment of Queen of Hearts left raking cuts across his face when the knife slashed his throat.
She bared her teeth. The killer inside was almost sated. Almost.
Her gaze searched the bodies for a familiar face.
“Maks,” she said. Then lifted her voice. “Maks!”
Another shuffle of feet and she spun, knife at the ready. The blade flashed, stopping short barely half an inch from flesh as she recognised Nearne. The young girl gasped, lifting her hands in defence. “Nysta!”
“Don’t do that,” the elf growled. Considered giving the girl the small bell hanging from her wrist.
Mija picked through the corpses. She staggered almost drunkenly, weak from loss of blood. But her knife was wet. Soaked in the blood of at least one Grey Jacket. Nearne, too, bore streaks of blood across her shirt. None of which was her own.
The two had obviously chosen to kill together, and the elf nodded in approval.
“They’re not here,” Mija whispered. She looked up, eyes desperate. “These aren’t the ones.”
The elf left the two girls behind, unable to watch as Mija stalked her own prey. The look in the girl’s eyes had reminded her too much of feelings she thought had been bottled before leaving the Deadlands. Feelings she couldn’t let loose right now.
There was already too much rage inside her. Too much hatred.
It was burning her from the inside.
Her heart was pounding so hard her neck ached.
She should stop. Should breathe. Should think.
But Lux hadn’t cast yet. And the yellow fog crawled closer, sifting between the legs of the statues. Darker shapes were already dragging themselves slowly down the stairs.
Draug.
So many of them. More than she could fight.
Draug would kill them all. She knew it. Knew she’d fall to their numbers. She couldn’t kill them all, no matter how hard she’d bluffed them before. The knife might kill some of them. But they’d overwhelm her. Men died easy, but draug died hard.
Maks.
She could take Maks with her.
If she could do that, she’d go to the Shadowed Halls with pride. She’d be able to look Saja in the face. Be able to nod to Halvir.
And then she could find him.
Talek.
In that second, all fear of the draug fled. What could they do to her? Hurt her? She’d been hurt before. Many times.
The worst had already been done to her. Already been taken from her.
Standing taller, she drifted forward, heading toward the altar. Led by the silent stares of the stone warriors. She took her steps, one after the other. Determination growing.
So, when she emerged at the foot of the stairs leading to the altar, she saw the big raider and allowed her lip to curl cruelly toward the scar on her cheek. Felt only satisfaction as her eyes met his. He was going to die now. She should have killed him before.
She’d failed in that.
But she wouldn’t fail now. Not this time. This time he’d die.
She took a step towards him.
And was spun around when a blade shivered from the dark and speared into her shoulder with a hollow wet thud. Dropping to her knee, she let out a roar of pain as Dalle skipped out from behind one of the stone warriors.
Aimed another throwing knife at the elf. Snarled; “I don’t care what Nath wants. You’re dead, you Tainted bitch! You hear me? You’re fucking dead.”
Her arm lifted. The elf tensed, ready to throw herself aside. Then relaxed. Showing such utter lack of concern, she lifted broken hands to press wrapped fists on either side of the handle sticking out of her body. Worked the throwing knife loose while Dalle watched in confused fascination.
It spat to the ground in a pulse of red.
But there was more red to come as My Ears snaked in front of Dalle’s throat and, with a quick whipping slice which showed more training than experience, slit a neat line across the woman’s throat.
Maks let out a cry as Dalle dropped. A cry made more raw by his recognition of who had landed the killing blow.
Nearne, standing above the crumpled woman, watched as Dalle writhed onto her back, looking up in horror at the girl she’d called daughter.
“You have to understand,” Nearne told Dalle, each word clipped from glass. “You have to understand how I feel.”
Dalle’s hands pressed against her neck, trying to keep the flood of crimson from flowing thicker. But Nearne knelt down beside her even as Maks started down the stairs, shouting the girl’s name. Nearne gently pressed fingers to the woman’s gasping lips.
“Shh, mother,” she said. “It will only hurt for a little while. Remember? Only hurt for a little while. That’s what you said. What they all said. But you lied. It never stopped hurting. It still hurts, even now. Here. Let me show you how it feels.”
My Ears plunged into Dalley’s chest.
Again.
And again.
Each strike drawing an enraged shout from Maks. He angled toward the girl, desperate to save Dalle despite the woman being beyond that. Each strike now was a thrust into dead flesh.
The tears flicking from Nearne’s eyes blinded her to that fact.
He was above her, axe raised. Howling mindlessly.
Should have killed the girl. But Nysta threw herself into his ribs, raking Queen of Hearts across his belly. Not deep enough to spill his guts, but it was enough to send him stumbling back on his heels.
“You.” He spoke between clenched teeth. “I killed you. I cut your throat. I left you for fucking dead. How are you alive? How the fuck are you still alive, you Tainted cunt?”
“That’s what you get for passing out in a bar,” the elf said. “In the morning, ain’t everything like it should be.”
And then they threw themselves at each other. Rancid hatred turning what might have looked like an embrace into a tornado of violence.
Steel flashed.
Weapons found flesh, sending blood spraying from their bodies. The elf kicked away first, arms feeling like lead. Struggling to lift her right, A Flaw in the Glass hanging loose.
Dalle’s knife had drilled deep. Maybe too deep.
Blood shivered in wet ribbons down her side.
But she wasn’t going to die.
Not yet. She had to kill him first.
“Saja wants you dead,” she said. Heat in her words made him pause and he pressed a hand to his own fresh cut. Queen of Hearts had put a hole in his left bicep, shredding muscle and forcing him to drop his axe.
The fight was equal now. Maybe too equal, she thought, feeling ice creep through her veins as nerves worked to keep from moving damaged muscle.
He aimed an agonised scowl at her. “What was she to you? You hardly even fucking talked to her. She was nothing. I knew her for years. Since she was a kid. She was more to me than she was to you. You never even shared a drink with her.”
“You killed her. Beat the shit out of her first. Doesn’t sound much like she meant a thing to you.”
“I offered her a chance! Same chance I had. All she had to do was bow her fucking head. The Lord of Light would’ve accepted her.” He hefted the axe, preparing another charge. “But she was stupid. And proved to all of us that she was tainted. Tainted by you. It’s your
fault. If it wasn’t for you, maybe I could’ve talked her into it. Maybe I could’ve shown her the way. But you poisoned her. In the end, what she got, she deserved. You all deserve death. As painful as it can be given.”
She took a shuffled step toward him, violet eyes thinning as she worked closer. Keeping her weight evenly balanced. Prepared to leap. To dive.
“Tell me something, Maks. You ever drunk so much you thought your liver would explode?”
He matched her steps. “What’re you talking about?”
“Just figuring with all of us getting more and more pissed today, someone’s liver’s got to give.” She pulled her lips back into the cruel grin. “Figure it’s gonna be yours.”
“What-”
And Mija stuck him. The Ugly, its brutal blade made for sinking into meat, tore through the tough meat of his back and found his liver. She collapsed then, last of her energy spent on that final lunge. Flat on her face, blood-drenched blade in hand, she watched with relish as he shrieked, flailing like a crab with half its legs torn away.
Threw himself on the ground, writhing and twisting as he tried to get away from the agony.
But there was nowhere he could go. Nowhere to get away.
Mind lost to pain, he dropped the axe. Clawed at his back, squealing in a pitch the elf never would have thought a man as big as him could reach.
Slowly, she limped up to him. Used her boot to push the sobbing raider onto his back.
Sat down on his chest as he shrank beneath her weight. Mija crawled, unable to lift herself anymore. Her face a pale mask of utter hatred, she still held the knife in both fists as she dragged herself forward.
“Maks,” Mija choked. “Maks.”
“Who are you?” Blood dribbling down his chin. His eyes swept from the young girl to Nysta. “Who the fuck-?”
“Don’t look so shocked, feller. Round here, everyone knows your name. So, here’s to you,” the elf said. Brought Queen of Hearts down in a black arc even as The Ugly lunged once more for his body. “Cheers.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
She rolled off the body and lay on her side, head resting on stone. So close to the dying girl, she could feel the ragged breaths on her cheek.
Then Nearne dived in to scoop Mija into her arms. “Don’t die,” she cried. “Please don’t die. Not now. Not after all this. We need to get out of here, Mija. Need to go to Dragonclaw, remember? Your cousin’s there. She’ll help us out. We’ll start again, and you’ll get that new boat you wanted. And I’ll work in the city. We’ll have a shop together. Just you and me. You’ll sail all over, from Doom’s Reach to Icespike. And you’ll buy furs from Jugger’s End. You’ll bring them back home. Home to Dragonclaw, and I’ll sell what you trade. It’s going to be great. We’ll be free. Just the two of us. It’s going to be great. You promised it would. You promised. Please, Mija.”
The dying girl reached with a blood-wet hand.
Smiled.
Touched Nearne’s cheek with the barest caress of a fingertip.
Then slumped without a word, last cold breath sliding free with a wet sigh.
Nysta watched Mija’s eyes glaze over and rolled onto her back with a groan.
She hurt.
Really hurt.
Boots clattered across stone. And Nath was there, at the top of the stairs, old eyes bright with anger as they soaked the scene. Lingered on Dalle’s blood drenched corpse a little longer than they should have.
He snarled when he saw her still breathing. Waved a hand. “Get her. Bring her up here. Tie her to the altar. I’ll take her ears now. And the girl. Bring her, too. We’ll take her heart. The Lord of Light will be pleased for such a sacrifice.”
She tasted metal. Burnt and black.
Smell of acid.
Looked to Nearne and gave a frantic shake of her wrist. The bell tinkled loudly, cutting through the quiet courtyard. “Don’t move.”
Took one more breath.
Held it, not daring to breathe in case she moved.
And the sky exploded. Beams of bright green light whipped from its belly. Almost like lightning, but there was nothing natural about it. And where they struck, the ground was blasted to fragments.
Stone warriors, calm in their vigilance, exploded into fine dust.
Craters burst, showering the surrounding area with debris.
And Nath’s Grey Jackets died. As the bolts hit, their bodies were torn to pieces. Bright green plasma and dark red blood splashed in equal measure. Bodyparts, none large enough to identify, skated and slid across the ground.
Amid the carnage, men darted for cover.
For respite.
For escape.
Those who fled beyond the stone warriors found something worse as the yellow fog’s heavy bank revealed draug. Draug who pounced with insatiable hunger on men whose wits had been driven mad. As mad as the fog itself.
Nath alone stood defiant, arms high to the heavens. His voice, a screech of religious zeal. “Oh, Lord of Light, protect your servant!”
And, whether it was his prayer or luck, he was left standing when the green lights ceased to flicker down from the clouds. Alone and furious, he glared across the carnage.
Saw the last of his men being picked apart by draug.
Saw the yellow fog whispering across the ground. Coming for him.
Saw the elf still shaking her wrist so the bell’s sharp little tinkle tripped through the chaos.
Pulled a knife from his belt and began descending the stairs.
One at a time.
Deliberate and cold.
“He wants you brought before him. He wants you to kneel to him. I’ll take you. Alone, I will drag you to his feet. But first, first I’ll take your ears. I’ll burn them. Scorch them in the fires. And then you’ll present them to him. Your offering. And you’ll beg, Tainted one. You will beg for his forgiveness.” He tested the blade in his hand, relishing what was to come. “And then you’ll die. I will ask for the privilege of cutting your heart out myself.”
“Fuck you,” she spat. Horror in her heart as she used her feet to push herself away from him. Right arm not working. Left hanging useless. Every muscle in her body felt slow. Stiff. She was a worm, crawling from the sharp-beaked predator strutting closer.
She looked to Nearne draped over the body of her lover. Crooning softly, the young girl’s thoughts unable to focus.
“None can save you,” Nath said, purring in anticipation. “Only the Lord of Light can save, and he has turned from you.”
“Blasphemy,” a soft voice rasped.
Nath jerked to face the blind deathpriest who’d shuffled free of the remaining stone statues. When he saw Lux, he sneered. “Your power is nothing, deathpriest. Look at me. Look at me! I still stand despite your tainted magic. The Lord of Light protects me! I defy you. I spit on you. I-”
“Will die,” Lux finished for him, reaching with his staff. The tip touched the old man.
And the elf quickly turned her head as, like the last time, Nath’s body was turned to bloody mist. A few small splinters of bone picked at air, scattering across the stone.
When she turned back, there was nothing left to remind the world Nath had even existed.
Lux leaned on his staff, weakly. Dark hollow eyes seemed to study her.
“Can you move?”
She grit her teeth. “I think so.”
“Then we need to get inside. The draug are here. The Madman is already at the stairs. When they’ve finished toying with the Caspiellans, they’ll come for us. I don’t know if I can stop them. I need to save my strength. I have done too much already. There are other spells yet to cast. More desperate spells.” He shook his head, weathered skin rustling like dead leaves as his bones creaked. “He’s strong, Nysta. So strong. And he gets stronger.”
Nysta twisted her head. Couldn’t see anything through the dark statues or the glowing yellow fog. Could hear the draug. Hear some of them chewing on fresh meat. Fresh bone cracked.
But wo
rse than that was the sound of the whispers clicking against each other as they muttered and snarled. Calling for death.
Calling for blood.
The giggle blanketing them all, rolling within the fog’s luminous belly.
She shuddered. Inched closer to the hunched form of Nearne.
Slivers of pain shot through the elf’s body, carried not just on damaged nerves, but by the worms which surged inside her flesh.
They darted this way and that. Frightened fish nibbling.
Knitting together what they could save. Gnawing away what they could not.
Pushing her horror aside, she found herself feeling moved by the young girl’s sobs.
The sound of Nearne’s grief. Deep and cavernous. Pulled from the huddled corner of her insides where her soul now bled.
The elf reached, but her hands were bound. Wrapped tight in rags torn from Saja’s body. Rags now soaked with blood.
Saja, she thought, would be happy about that at least. Had she done enough for the dead woman to smile down from the Shadowed Halls?
Grunting, the elf bumped the back of her fist against Nearne’s shoulder. “Come on,” she said. As softly as she could, though her voice grated through clenched teeth. “We’ve got to move. Now. We can’t stay.”
“I can’t,” Nearne said. Quiet and alone. “How can I leave her?”
“She’ll understand.” The elf glanced quickly at the approaching fog. It was already weaving around her boots. “You can come back. Later. When it’s all over. Now’s not the time to stay. You reckon she wants you to get chewed on by draug? That ain’t what she came here for, Nearne.”
“No. She came here to die.”
The elf had nothing to say to that. No comforting words existed in her mind.
And the young girl wouldn’t have taken them if she did.
Sliding free of the other girl’s body, Nearne pulled herself to her feet. Tears still wet her cheeks, but the sobs which had wracked her body were now fractured tremors. Aftershocks which the elf knew wouldn’t subside for a long time.
Struggling for balance, the elf stood. Shared a look which might have hinted at mutual understanding. Then looked away, unable to stand the rising emotions burning in her belly.
She took the stairs like she hated them. One at a time. Each boot coming down hard.