by Kyle Olson
No. Even, even with the red burning so hot, so bright it was white, it remained… poised, protective of the others.
Fuck you fuck you fuck yoooou!
Tess tried to howl out, but it only made the jaws at her throat clamp down that much harder. Blood gurgled from her lips, staining her teeth.
Darkness closed in.
Fear gripped her heart.
Once she fell unconscious, that was it. Nothing would stop him from tearing her body apart.
Tess, who had lived for ten thousand years, was going to die.
No matter how hard she tried, her fight was departing along with her life.
Flames died away. She kicked, limply, but that was the last. Cold. For the first time, the goddess of flame felt cold.
Ifon growled and reared back, ripping out Tess’ throat. Open arteries pumped what remained onto the ground in weak spurts. The wolf spat the bit of flesh and fur out.
“I underestimated you,” he said, voice like the thunder of a departing storm, “You were… formidable. I’m glad I undertook this myself. The others wouldn’t have been able to best you.”
Fuck you, too. Cunt.
Ifon moved his mouth, as if speaking, but she could no longer hear him. Not that she had the faintest interest in his gloating.
Her final thoughts turned towards those she’d left behind. So much left unfinished. Left unavenged. Wasn’t she going to fix this world?
She could only laugh at herself.
Ga ka ka kaaa… How pathetic.
Inner laughter faded, replaced by regret.
Just as the final remnants of her mind faded, as the curtain of darkness enveloped her, she thought she saw something in the sky right above her. A something that looked remarkably like a void cut out of reality.
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
Almost an hour had passed when the last traces of venom in Sejit’s veins had been expunged. An hour of cowering behind a tree with her eyes closed, punctuated by a few occasions of taking a gander at the mansion. The smoldering remnants had been extinguished half an hour ago. Daontys vanished inside and she hadn’t seen him since.
The smart thing would’ve been to retreat and come back another day, but she couldn’t leave it behind. Not again. She wasn’t leaving without Mun’skit.
Attempting to finish things here and now was also an option, but not one she was eager to seize. He was stronger than she’d remembered, or perhaps he’d somehow grown over the centuries. There was the possibility he had other minor gods in reserve, ready to pounce.
Hu’phed throwing away his life to buy time had been unexpected. Could also have been that he hadn’t intended to buy time, but to allow Daontys to deliver the killing blow. Worst part was, it’d almost worked. Much as she didn’t want to admit it, she’d been fortunate to survive.
If only because she was spending as much effort battling her inner-self as them.
That was something she hadn’t intended.
And it worried her.
She was in control. Not beast or bloodlust, but her. Ever since that day, she’d swore as much. Yet her purchase on self-control was slipping.
With a shake of her head, she cleared those thoughts.
Focus on the now.
Slipping from cover, she picked her way up the cliff, pausing every few seconds to give her ears and nose the chance to pick up any hints of impending attack. When she crested over the top, she slid down on her belly and again watched, listened, smelled. Faint sounds of scraping wood came from within. A door shut. Another was opened. Something was dragged across the flooring.
Her pink nose twitched and wriggled, picking up the odor of the bird against the remnants of smoke, against the backdrop of sunlight—which did indeed have a scent, just that mortals with their limited senses and facilities couldn’t pick up on it—along with Wio, Hu’phed, and remnants of other smells. Chances were low of other gods in hiding, but she couldn’t be so sure.
Sejit stalked across the ground on all-fours, slung low. It ate at her pride, even got the lion within whispering.
Sejit does not scurry. We do not scurry!
She ignored it, with some effort, and sped towards where her polearm had embedded itself. One final pause to peer around a corner of the mansion, and her hopes buoyed. There it was.
Good. He does not realize its significance…
Rather than creep forward, she burst from her hiding place, snagged the haft of her prize, and yanked it free. Or, intended to yank it free. It was stuck fast, requiring a foot propped up on the outcropping to give her the leverage needed to pry it out. Rock groaned under the strain and her muscles bulged. Precious seconds ticked by.
With one final wiggle, the rock cracked with a sharp bang and released its hold.
Instinct went on full alert. Ears wiggled and pivoted.
Weapon in paw she swung in a wide arc behind her, knocking a dagger from the air in a sharp metallic clatter.
The image of Tarkit lowered his hand. Sejit forced down her hackles and bolted away. Just as she reached the cliff’s edge and readied herself for a great leap, the facsimile of her son spoke.
“When did my mother become such a coward?”
She froze at the edge, teeth grit. Muscle fought itself. Sejit fought herself.
Cleave Wio in twain! Chop the bits! Scatter them for the beasts to devour! It would only take seconds!
No! We must prepare, bide our time!
You are a coward! Release me and this ends now! We will be victorious.
Her body strained, losing more of its human shape to that of the beast.
I will end this! But I will do so on my terms, not yours.
The lion growled in anger, slammed its head into the bars. One thin, rusted bar buckled. Sejit mustered all her reason and logic and leapt.
She plummeted into the ground in a hail of branches and leaves, as before, and looked up. Where Tarkit ought to have been, gazing down, was Wio, backlit by the sun. And then, nothing.
Do not fall for their tricks. We must be smarter than they to come out of this. Intelligence, patience, and wit win the battles that mean something.
The lion, for once, had nothing to say back. It paced in its cage, then laid down, head resting on folding paws. Watching her.
After several steps, Sejit came to a halt.
“Ha ha ha ha. Ha ha. Fuck!”
She slammed a tree with a fist. Bark exploded off the reverse side of the impact and wood groaned. Several steps later, a crack raced through the tree and the top half toppled over with a series of wooden snaps and booms.
This is patience?
Today had not gone at all as planned.
Tomorrow would have to.
Hopefully, when she returned to her motel room, good news would be awaiting.
CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT
Tess awoke.
This came as quite the surprise to her since she was quite sure she was supposed to be dead. Not, as her senses began to feed her muzzy brain information and kicking off synapses, in her bed, within her room, within the museum’s penthouse.
She wiggled her toes, wagged her tail. Ah, she was still in that form. She seldom was, preferring her human shape to that of four legs, or even the in-between shape as Sejit was fond of. It was just easier to live as a human in a human world, after all. Besides, she much preferred the touch and feel of smooth skin.
Memories of her last moments were fresh in her mind, or as fresh as they could be. Shifting forms, there was a tightness at her neck, like the flesh and skin had snagged. With a measure of reluctance, she touched her throat. Scars and toothmarks pocked the flesh. Fingers retreated.
That was a first. Maybe not much time had passed.
She swung her legs off the bed and stood, sucking in a deep breath, only to receive a bonus prize of a fit of coughs that made her already aching chest and ribs ache that much more.
A suspiciously clear path had been carved from the doorway to her bed, which also made it easy to get at her
dresser and the full-length mirror next to it. A flick of the lights revealed the extent of her injuries.
Most of her was still the same, but puckered, raised scars snaked trails across her chest and up into her neck.
If this shit doesn’t go away in a hurry, looks like I’ll be wearing turtlenecks for a while, she thought, dryly. So what happened?
Donning a few pieces of errant clothing closest to her, she ventured out into the penthouse for answers.
And found not just Sophia and Wophin, but Yf as well in the living room—still enjoying her form as a tiny and lithe woman. Stars shone through the skylight.
“Tess! You’re awake!” Said Yf, beaming as Tess came in. She set down her drink and popped from her seat, rushing up to Tess with her robe-like dress swishing across the hardwood flooring. One quick hug later, the feline god stepped back to appraise the damage. The look on her face was much the same as Tess wore when she stood in front of the mirror.
Nestled up against the back of the couch, a full-size Hydon rumbled his greeting with a stretch of his paws, a blink of the eyes, then rolled over and went back to sleep.
“Madam will be pleased to know you’ve finally recovered,” said Wophin.
“Hey, look at you, not dead,” Sophia said offhandedly, though a smile belied her true feelings on the matter.
“Look at my fan club, coming out to greet me after my grievous injuries. I’m touched!”
Sophia rolled her eyes, “I’ll bet.”
“So,” Tess said, clearing her throat. She coughed again. “What the fuck happened? Last thing I remember was seeing…” she paused, putting two and two together, “One of Yf’s portals appearing. After that, nothing.”
“Simply put,” Yf said, reclaiming her seat in the comfy, over-stuffed chair, “Sophia called me in a panic, asking I save you from Ifon.”
“That so?” Tess turned her attention to the only mortal in the room, “I was wondering where you’d run off. Didn’t see you after the shit hit the fan.”
“Like I was going to stick around for that! I actually got sunburn on the back of my neck!”
“Hey, I don’t blame you. I tried running away too,” she said with a bitter smile, “Didn’t work out so well.”
“I was kind of able to keep up with you two when you were tearing up half the city, but then you completely lost me when you bolted out. By the time I caught up, Ifon had you by the neck.”
“While I appreciate you two helping, how did you manage to chase Ifon off? He’s a fucking tank.”
“Funny thing about that,” Yf chimed in, “He was barely standing by the time we showed up. Hydon went through first, bowling him over. Thing is, Ifon ignored us and kept going for you. Quite a bit of back and forth… Hydon may have accidentally crushed your ribcage when he got thrown, but really, the Wolf kept chomping on you until he finally accepted he was too drained to keep going and took off. After summoning the worst blizzard this continent has ever seen, of course. So, have to hand it to you, a little bit more and you would’ve killed one of the most powerful gods this world has ever known!” Yf flashed a toothy, sideways smirk.
Tess had to sit down.
Just a little bit more, huh?
She chuckled. Then laughed, “Gakaka-kof-hak-kofkof-fuck!”
Wophin made a worried expression; a rare sight. “Perhaps you ought to continue resting?”
Fuck that. Just. Fuck!
Fuzzy memories played back. How great it would’ve been to say she was just holding back, that she’d get him next time, but she knew. There wasn’t a whole lot left to give, so long as she cared about consequences. Meanwhile, Ifon had only used the winter twice. Certainly, he had more in the tank than he’d let on.
The consequences…
What good did holding back do for her? The chase alerted the nation—the world—of their existence. How many videos and images had found themselves online already?
Should’ve just fucking went all out, even if it meant burning away my life. But shit. His mind was a god damn fortress.
Another deep, long breath. Another cough.
“So, how’d Sejit’s operation go?” Tess asked.
“Well-l-l, about that,” Yf said, holding her tongue against her teeth to really draw out the word. Between her and Sophia, they filled in the details of Sejit’s failure, along with her plan to renew the assault in the following day, regardless of whether or not Tess was able to help.
“So we both got our shit kicked in. Fantastic. Though hey, we technically came out ahead. Hu’phed died. At least now we know for sure he was working for them when he killed the old Marshal.”
“I still don’t understand why someone like that attacked Sejit again after just barely recovering,” said Sophia.
“Who knows? Maybe he felt he owed it to Daontys. Maybe he just wanted to die,” Yf said, finishing off with a long sip of her drink.
“Ah, but they lost more than the serpent,” Wophin cut in, raising eyebrows all around. He told them of Marphin and his brother’s demise in so many words. Tess and Yf were indifferent, but congratulated Wophin on doing something. Sophia, however, was left in thought.
“Hey, we’re two up and it only cost us the element of surprise and alerted the entire world there’s some serious shit going down,” said Tess.
“…What about those government guys you killed?”
“Right. Forgot about them.”
Sophia shot Tess a look.
“Don’t give me that. I’d like to see you remember half the shit I deal with. Whatever country they belonged to is going to be pissed, to say the least. If they’re anyone important, guess I can kiss my wealth goodbye when they seize any assets I have there,” she sighed, “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Mmm,” Yf hummed and sipped, “This is getting deeper by the word, isn’t it?”
“Indeed,” Wophin nodded, “Which makes a decision regarding Madam all the more vital. Though we are without evidence, it’s reasonable to believe Ifon will retreat to Daontys. No doubt they have appraised one another as we have. If Madam attempts another assault into both of them…”
“Hard-headed bitch,” Tess said, shaking her head, “She’s marching into death.”
Yf set her glass down with a clink on the stone coaster. “Truthfully, before Sophia contacted me, I felt Sejit’s peril. I considered coming to her aid, but…”
Sophia looked between them, “So why don’t we just go and help? I mean, Yosel is safe. Probably.”
“Because her pride is more dangerous than she is,” Yf said, reaching to give Hydon a good scratch behind an ear. He chuffed in response and stretched out, the distance between fore and rear paw spanning over half the room, “Not saying she’d attack us on purpose or anything, but…”
“Ah,” Sophia nodded, in the sort of way someone did when they knew there was a history. Based on the strained look on her face immediately following, she was attempting to divine that history.
But, while Yf knew, Tess knew. If Sejit got herself uncorked, it might not be possible to put her back in the bottle. Or heavy-duty cage. Millennia had passed and Sejit had matured, grown. Ifon’s mind was an impenetrable vault. The silver-bullet Tess had been hiding away had turned out to be useless. It reasoned that Sejit, even if she should fall into a bloodthirsty, mindless rampage that threatened to end the world, would still have similar fortifications.
“Say Sejit walks into them, they get into a scuffle. She’s pushed into a corner, kill or be killed. She’ll probably lose her shit regardless,” Tess said after a long sigh, “So either way we’re in a shit position.”
“As much as it pains me to admit, Madam can be rather… impulsive,” Wophin said, “I think it is best you aid her, for there’s certainly no way we’re going to talk her down from where she’s at.”
“Speaking of, you did try to tell her she’s stupid for attacking again so soon, right?”
“Not quite in those words,” Yf said, “But yes. She was… adamant.”
/> “Fantastic,” Tess groaned, raking fingers through her hair, “Nearly die and I still can’t get a day off. Well let’s get fuckin’ to it, then.”
Back in her room, Tess tossed her clothes aside and again went over herself in the mirror. The scars were still there, unchanged. Her chest still ached and breathing had a pang of difficulty to it.
She fetched a cig from a pack and lit it in her usual fashion.
And coughed the moment the smoke hit her throat and lungs. A sharp, hacking cough like the kind you’d hear from a teenager the first time they stole a cigarette and lit up outside where their parents couldn’t see.
“Figures,” she growled, snuffing it out before Wophin could complain.
Flopping into bed, she had an hour to kill before leaving for the flight to Erton. Fortunately for her, she had a plethora of aliases she could use. Hopefully whatever government she’d been accosted by wouldn’t pick up on whichever one she used.
Opening her laptop, she browsed to a news site and prepared for the worst.
Somehow, it was both as bad as she’d suspected and better at the same time. Rather than a front page spread with photos and bold text and claims of returned gods, it was an article on the second page, behind one about some movie star’s affair with a senator ending in a flurry of spilled secrets.
Two more news sites showcased the story and events front-page, along with the ice walls and flame cyclones. It was speculated gods from myth had returned, but no one could name the jackal. The wolf, however, was fingered as Ifon from the get-go.
A fourth news site, this one based in Coanphany, lauded Ifon as not just the image of the god, but the god himself. He had canceled an important showing, and as it so happened, during the time he was supposed to be there for a national and military address, a massive white wolf appeared in Yosel. It’d already been speculated by some that there was a connection to Yosel’s expansion and Coanphany’s. And now, this. It was all too convenient.
The article didn’t come right out and say it, but it implied more than enough that Ifon had to be the wolf, and the jackal may have been Jasmine Reith. This line of thought was given legs because Marshal Reith was suspiciously absent for comment.