Beautiful Salvation

by Jennifer Blackstream

  The warrior that met the wendigo in battle was more beast than man. Though shorter than the lean wendigo with its towering antlers, the warrior’s hulking body with its shoulders as broad as a ceiba tree and its arms as massive as the body of an anaconda was equally intimidating. Brown fur covered its body, and its face ended in a wolfish snout full of sharp white teeth. Glowing golden eyes flashed as it rose up to meet the wendigo’s strike, slashing at the wendigo’s protruding ribs with a monstrous claw-tipped paw. The wendigo screeched, listing backwards as brackish blood gushed from its belly. The wolfman pressed on, snarling and snapping its jaws. It closed a hand around the wendigo’s throat as the beast bent in half over its wounded midsection. Aiyana’s stomach rolled as he tore the head off the neck with one sharp jerk, sending the skull rolling down the hill.

  The wolfman didn’t stay to see the body fall. He loped off toward the next wendigo, its movements easy and powerful, its grace belying its bulk.

  An agonized scream rent the air and Aiyana diverted her attention to where a shadowy form faced off against a man with skin so pale it nearly glowed. The shadowed form was tall, thin, and seemed to be made of all angles. Aiyana gasped as she noticed the sharp bones jutting out of its elbows like daggers. Glowing orbs caught her attention and she recognized the creature just in time. She tore her gaze away, staring at Tenoch with wide eyes.

  “Itopa'hi,” she breathed.

  “You are a ghost,” Tenoch reminded her. “You can look, no harm will come to you.”

  Unable to resist the temptation, Aiyana peered down at the gangly monster, her attention drawn to the back of his head where his second face peered out at the world. It was said that to look upon Itopa'hi’s second face was to be paralyzed forever—or until the creature came back to disembowel you with the knife-like protrusions from its elbows. None had ever viewed that second face and lived.

  Her stomach turned as she faced every child’s greatest nightmare. The second face was gaunt, drawn, and sickly green. Its eyes rolled around in the sockets, seeking out a victim, always watching. Its gaze passed over her and Aiyana held her breath despite Tenoch’s warning, waiting for the sick sense of paralysis that part of her was certain she would feel. The glassy eyes rolled over her with no effect, moving on as if it couldn’t see her. Aiyana trembled with relief, feeling foolish for being so afraid.

  The warrior squaring off against Itopa'hi showed no fear. The pale planes of his face remained as smooth and sharp as glass, his eyes glowing a faint crimson as he thrust with his dagger, aiming for Itopa'hi’s heart. The creature snarled and jerked back, easily dodging the blade, then returned the warrior’s attack with one of its own. After several more parries and thrusts, the warrior took several larger steps back.

  Itopa'hi laughed, a spine tingling, terrifying sound, mocking the warrior’s retreat. The warrior stood as still as a statue, staring Itopa'hi down as her hysterical laughter filled the air. Darkness flowed over his pale flesh until even his glowing eyes were lost to the cloud. The warrior’s clothing fell to the ground in limp folds and Aiyana’s jaw dropped. The black mist surged toward the laughing Itopa'hi like a cloud of coal dust, flowing into her mouth and nostrils. Itopa'hi choked, her laugher dying as she clutched at her throat, her eyes bulging in her skull. Aiyana raised a hand to her own throat as Itopa'hi suffocated, her body twitching as she collapsed to the ground. After several long moments, the dark mist flowed from the body and coalesced once again. The warrior reappeared, the muscled planes of his naked body bared to the moonlight. He redressed as if he had all the time in the world, adjusting his clothes and replacing his weapons. After cleaning his dagger on his cloak, he scanned his surroundings, eyes flashing as they landed on a wendigo that had slipped past the wolfman. His dagger flashed as he darted for the wendigo.

  “Vampire,” Tenoch supplied. “Prince of Dacia.”

  A blast of heat hit them both and Aiyana cried out as fire rushed through her. The sensation wasn’t painful, but it was strange, unsettling. Tenoch put a hand on her arm.

  “You are a ghost, Aiyana, the fire will not hurt you.”

  “I know it just…feels so odd. I haven’t been dead long.” Not wanting to dwell on her current state, Aiyana searched for the source of the fire and gasped.

  It was the man who had stood beside her bed, the one who had been holding the bloody dagger. Or rather, it looked like the man Coyote had been pretending to be. Only, he did not appear exactly the same as he had then. Ebony wings extended from his back like ominous sails, beating the air with powerful bursts of movement that sent him hurtling through the air toward clouds of chittering black shapes. He opened his mouth and blew out, sending another burst of flames at the cloud. The scent of burning hair filled the air and the glow of the fire lit up the demon’s opponent. Aiyana jerked back as she recognized the human heads with bat wings sprouting from either side, eyes sallow and deathlike, sharp teeth dripping with blood. As they screamed, the demon hurled a handful of stones. The rocks glowed like hearth fire embers and the ones that found their mark down the throats of the monsters quickly brought their targets falling out of the sky like dead weights.

  “Kanontsistonties,” she whispered.

  Tenoch nodded. “The Flying Heads. The one who fights them is Adonis, demon prince of Nysa.”

  “Another prince?” Before Aiyana could demand more information, the glitter of scales lit up her peripheral vision. Aiyana’s jaw dropped. An angel hovered in the sky mere feet away from the mouth of the giant horned serpent Uktena. The massive snake rose higher than the tallest trees in the forest, its scales glistening with patches of slimy algae and hung with seaweed where its scales were jagged and broken. Aiyana imagined she could hear the sound of rushing water as she pictured the beast crawling from its underwater home, venturing onto the land in search of fresh meat. What had happened to bring the monster this far inland? What had drawn it to the palace?

  Aiyana abandoned her thoughts as Uktena’s forked tongue flicked out, nearly knocking the angel from the air. The angel’s long blond hair waved behind him as he dove toward the ground, spinning around and coming up behind the horned serpent. Metal flashed in the moonlight as the angel raised a massive sword, light dancing over its unornamented blade. The angel aimed for a spot on the back of the serpent’s neck. Uktena twisted around, but the angel followed the movement, shooting forward like the well-aimed point of an arrow. The sword slid into the back of the serpent like a spade through moist earth. A great hiss that rattled Aiyana’s organs inside her spewed from the snake’s mouth. Death tremors wracked the serpentine body and it thrashed about on the ground, crushing trees beneath its heavy coils. Its tail came dangerously close to the palace, tangling in the thick circle of briars surrounding the stone. Finally the lifeless body fell to the earth, rattling the very foundation of the castle.

  The angel tore his sword from the corpse and tilted his head to the sky. A dark shape was approaching and the angel flew to meet it. Something hurtled through Aiyana’s body. She gasped. It was a sensation unlike anything she had ever experienced, different than the warm rush of fire, more like a thread being pulled through her body. She gaped at the figure hovering a few feet away from her, the man who’d just flown through her incorporeal form, and found herself staring into the shocked face of the demon prince of Nysa.

  “Aiy…Aiyana?”

  Aiyana raised a hand toward him, wanting to grab his arm but afraid her hand would pass right through. “You can see me?”

  The demon nodded slowly, snatching a flying head out of the air when it dove for him and ripping its wings off without looking. He never broke eye contact with Aiyana as he drew a stone from his pocket, breathed fire on it until the stone glowed a faint orange, then plunged it into the beast’s throat. He released the creature, letting it fall to the earth as he continued to blink at Aiyana. “How…? How are you…?”

  The ground cracked open in a cacophony of shattered rock, cutting off whatever response Aiyana might have o
ffered. She glanced down to find another large pit opening up, massive teeth at the bottom opening and closing like the maw of a great beast. Her lips parted as she remembered Saamal’s story of creation, his warnings of the pact that had been made and was now not being honored.

  “Cipactli,” she whispered.

  “She’s getting stronger.” Adonis shook his head. “I hope Saamal can defeat her a second time. I’m game for a war, but taking on a primordial monster-god is a little out of my wheelhouse.”

  At the mention of Saamal’s name, Aiyana searched the area, searching for some sign of her fiancé. When she spotted him, her heart seized in her chest.

  “Saamal…”

  The god was enormous. As tall as the castle itself, Saamal towered over the land, eyes burning like twin suns, skin coated in the spotted fur of a jaguar. The claws on his hands were the size of young trees, wickedly sharp and tipped with the crimson stain of blood. Chumana’s lower serpentine body was wrapped around him, emerald scales glistening in the moonlight as the muscles flexed under her skin, struggling to hold Saamal even as she grappled with the hand straining to tear out her throat. Saamal’s eyes had bled to the tar-black pits of his power-mad state. His hand trembled as he tried to close his fingers around Chumana’s green-scaled throat.

  “Saamal should be more powerful than her,” Adonis muttered in frustration. “When you—” He paused, glancing at Aiyana.

  “It’s all right.” She cleared her throat. “I know I’m dead.”

  Adonis shoved a hand through his hair. “The power he gave you came back to him. Chumana should be no match for him now.”

  “Chumana has had a century to gather her power,” Tenoch spoke up. “Saamal has spent that same century weak, and now Cipactli has turned on him so he no longer draws power from the land.”

  Adonis blinked as if noticing Tenoch for the first time. “And you are…?”

  Tenoch opened his mouth, his eyes flashing with remembered anger. Then suddenly his shoulders drooped. “It’s a long story.”

  Aiyana blocked them out, riveted by the battle going on between Saamal and Chumana. Another giant pit opened up behind Saamal. Chumana noticed the pit, slitted serpentine eyes flicking from it to Saamal. She surged forward, forcing Saamal to put a foot back. Aiyana screamed, imagining the sharp teeth she’d seen at the bottom of the other pit. Saamal bellowed in agony.

  “Cipactli has him.” Tenoch’s voice lacked any hint of joy or satisfaction. It was empty, hollow, the voice of someone who didn’t know how to feel yet.

  “He just regenerated that foot,” Adonis cursed.

  Heart pounding, Aiyana scanned her surroundings, searching for something to save Saamal. There had to be something, someone… Saamal bellowed again, the muscles in his forearm bulging as he tried to heave himself out of the pit with one hand, the other grasping Chumana’s scaled arm. Pain twisted his face and he roared. Chumana tried to take advantage of his pain, but no matter how she struggled, Saamal maintained his grip on her arm. She hissed, baring sharp, curved fangs.

  Suddenly Aiyana had an idea. She tried to grab Adonis’ arm, but her hands passed right through him. She swore in frustration.

  Adonis hazel eyes grew even wider. “What? What is it?”

  “My body,” Aiyana said urgently. “You have to throw it into the pit.”

  All the color drained from Adonis’ face and he drooped sharply in the air before catching himself. “Saamal would kill me. I have a wife, she would be very cross if—”

  “Adonis, don’t you see? Cipactli’s pact demanded a sacrifice. She’s been waiting all this time, waiting for Saamal to make good on his word.”

  “It’s too late for that,” Adonis insisted. “If a sacrifice is all it took—”

  “I am royal blood, my family has a pact with the land the same as Saamal,” Aiyana said firmly. “Cipactli will not ignore it.” Desperation seized her and she turned pleading eyes to Adonis. “Adonis, please, I’m already dead. That body serves no one lying there in the bed. Feed it to Cipactli, show her that we intend to make amends. I would do it myself if I could, but…” She swiped a hand through Adonis’ arm again and the demon shuddered.

  Adonis pressed his lips into a thin line, but then sighed in resignation. “I’m afraid that even if this works, I’m going to be the next sacrifice,” he muttered. “And right after the god gets all his power back.” He slanted a glance at Aiyana. “One of these days I’ll learn how to say no to a beautiful woman in distress. If I live that long,” he added pointedly.

  Aiyana held her breath as Adonis flew toward the window and into her bedroom. She wanted to follow him, but she couldn’t tear herself away from Saamal, couldn’t turn her back on him. After Adonis came back out with her body, she closed her eyes, partially to avoid seeing her limp body and partially to focus on what she wanted. She concentrated on her breathing, deep, slow breaths. I am a willing sacrifice. I give my body to the land. She remembered what Saamal had told her. It’s not merely flesh and blood. It’s honor, respect. I have no ceremony to offer you, Cipactli, but accept all that I have left. I give it to you willingly. Without you our kingdom is nothing.

  For the second time that night, Aiyana felt herself falling. A startled gasp from Tenoch made her heart beat faster, threatened her calm with fear. She shut out those emotions, concentrated on Cipactli, on honoring her sacrifice.

  Dirt. There was dirt all around her, pressing against her skin. She could feel the warmth of the earth, the life. All the things that had been lost to the world above, all the things that were missing, it was all here, the potential still here. Energy sizzled against her, the warmth of a blazing fire in the dead of winter, a summer rain in the middle of a drought. She breathed it in, let it sink into her. Awareness crept out and suddenly her senses screamed to life.

  She could feel the earth. Its lifeforce coursed through her, the blood in her veins like rivers rushing through valleys, her flesh like warm soil, her fingernails like sleek stone. She was one with the land—and she could feel its suffering.

  Tears slid down her cheeks as pain throbbed like a separate heartbeat inside her. A consciousness brushed against her, ancient and primal. She had a sense of thick scales and reptilian eyes, mouthfuls of sharp teeth and a deep hunger.

  I can feel you, Cipactli. I can feel your pain, your hunger. I know how you have been ignored, left to suffer alone. She drew herself up, her eyes still closed, darkness still surrounding her. It ends now.

  “Brave princess. Precious words.”

  Cipactli’s voice boomed into Aiyana’s consciousness, not words, but thoughts. Aiyana bit her lip to keep from crying out, the weight of that voice, the raw power, nearly more than she could bear.

  Not just words, Cipactli, she promised.

  “Black God changed. Not feared. Loved.”

  Aiyana paused, confused. You mean by me? Loved by me?

  “Loved by all. Not a god, a man. Helps if he can. Little things. Plow. Build. Hard work. No magic.”

  Saamal worked for his people? Aiyana searched her memory, trying to recall Saamal ever saying anything about what he’d done over the last century. He’d mentioned seeking power, mentioned trying to wake her. Nothing about interacting with the people. She stopped, remembering something Saamal had told her about realizing the people feared him. He doesn’t want to be feared anymore.

  “I do not want to be feared anymore. Black God is loved. I will be loved.”

  The pits that have opened up are rather frightening, Aiyana thought carefully, not wanting to offend the crocodilian.

  “Starving. Must eat. I die, all die. You will find new way. I will no longer be feared.”

  I want to help. Pain lanced Aiyana’s heart and she tried to keep the sound of tears from her voice. But I’m dead. I cannot help anymore.

  “Goddesses do not die. Change. But do not die. Return to the earth, then return to life.”

  Aiyana opened her mouth to ask what Cipactli meant, to follow the hopeful thread of
thought the crocodilian’s words had inspired in her. Whatever she might have said was cut off as she felt herself rising, moving through earth and rock. The same buzz of life sizzled over her nerves, invigorated her. Strength flowed into her limbs and she flailed her arms, fingers digging into the soil around her. She climbed through the earth, adding her energy to that around her. Her head broke free of the surface and the wind rushed to meet her face and Aiyana opened her eyes.

  The scene she had left when she’d fallen down into the earth was nothing compared to the sight that met her eyes now. Aiyana blinked, certain she was seeing things.