Vagabonds

by Kyle Olson

  The runway was littered with debris, but serviceable. Made for a bumpy touchdown, one that had the pilot sweating, but they came to a safe stop.

  “Godspeed,” the pilot said as he lowered the passenger ramp, realization coming too late. The Sovereign grinned

  “We shouldn’t be too long, I hope.”

  “Affirmative. I’ll be here unless someone kicks me out.”

  Against all civilian regulation, the trio left the aircraft while it was still on the runway, wherein it turned about and idled down to await Ifon’s return.

  “Should’ve brought an umbrella,” Sophia said, attempting to thwart the plishes of blood by dragging her jacket over her head, “Whose blood is that anyways? Isn’t this some kind of biohazard?”

  Ifon and Tess had no such problems, seeing as they had parkas with hoods. Besides, after enough mayhem one got used to being covered in mystery fluids.

  “Who knows? Though I doubt anyone is going to hang around to gather samples,” said Tess, surveying the surroundings.

  Ifon glanced up and caught a drop on his tongue, “Tastes the part.”

  “Gross.”

  “Mortals.”

  “Whatever,” Sophia shot back, “Now that we’re here, what’re we going to do anyways? That whole plane ride neither of you said anything.”

  “Take it as it comes. No sense in planning anything against her,” Ifon said. Tess nodded her agreement.

  “But you’re both still tired or whatever, right? And she’s…” Sophia trailed off in thought, taking in the devastation, “How come she’s not getting tired like you guys did?”

  “Mortal, would you have difficulty crushing a mouse? How about if you were the size of one?”

  “I mean, so what’s that… Are you saying you two are mice and she’s not?”

  Ifon groaned.

  Tess snickered and clarified, “When mice fight they don’t attract much attention, but hey, they’re still going to get tired fighting one another even if they can’t do shit to a person. But now… The mice are bigger. We’ll have to handle this as we are.”

  “Apt, I suppose,” Ifon added.

  In the distance, a tall building at the edge of the destruction collapsed. Seeing as how the darkest clouds were gathered over that spot, there was little doubt about where they’d find the one responsible. Unfortunately, it was over a mile away. Maybe two. Another structure fell, kicking up a cloud of dust. They had to get a move on.

  Tess handed off her parka to Sophia with a “Here.”

  “Aren’t you going to—”

  Sophia’s response was cut short as a shred of what were formerly jeans smacked her across the face. Where a tanned, raven-haired woman once stood, there was a raven-furred jackal. Only, she was larger than Sophia remembered her being just a few days ago.

  A second explosion of clothing caught her from behind. The white wolf. He was bigger than before as well. While saying they’d doubled in size would be a stretch, it was, all things considered, close enough.

  “…Hop on,” said Tess.

  Sophia gave her a once over, unsure, exactly if she was being serious. “Uh…”

  “You’d just fall behind. We need to move, so get the fuck on.”

  Despite the lack of facial muscles the typical wolf possessed, Ifon still managed to make one that crossed the threshold of horror and disgust. For his part, however, he kept his peace on the matter.

  Grabbing two big fistfuls of surprisingly soft fur, Sophia mounted her steed. Soon as her hands wrapped around the great jackal’s neck, Tess bolted with such force Sophia nearly flew off, or rather, she nearly remained still as her ride rocketed out from underneath.

  The world blurred and jumped and dashed this way and that, weaving through rubble and ruin faster than any car or truck could hope.

  They raced through the remains of what had been an attempt by the military to halt the rampaging goddess. Tanks and military vehicles were ravaged and twisted; Sophia counted over fifteen destroyed tanks before she gave up. But the wreckage, the vehicles were easy to handle, if unnerving.

  Corpses were another matter. After witnessing a number of men killed before her, seeing the bodies, hearing the stories, Sophia thought herself sufficiently numbed. Around her was a reminder that she could still feel horror. There were hundreds, likely thousands, of dead strewn about. Most were not whole. Some of them wore uniforms. Many did not.

  A modern battlefield that’d erupted in the middle of a metropolis without warning. A total war on anyone and everyone. They never had a chance. They were… This wasn’t Sejit. Sejit was brutal, but she was fair. This wasn’t the Sejit Sophia knew.

  Red rain stung against her face, but she dared not release a hand to pull the hood over her face. Laying flat as she could, one ear pressed to Tess’ back, she could hear the rush of air as massive lungs filled and exhaled, as her heart beat like a drum.

  This was the Sejit they knew.

  In all her days with them, this was the first time she felt small.

  Sophia buried her face in the black fur. Tess was warm. She smelled like a campfire did when it’d fallen to glowing embers after an evening aflame, when everyone around it had gone to sleep with bellies full of food, beer, and good cheer because they’d finally completed unearthing and cataloging an unspoiled tomb.

  Onward they dashed through a pouring of rain so thick it felt like she was dragged face-first through a pit of marbles.

  Then, nothing, like crossing a boundary. At the same moment, the last rays of sun faded, leaving the world a dull gray capped by black clouds above and ruined earth below.

  Another massive boom, another building decimated.

  Tess and Ifon came to a skittering halt, claws scrabbling on asphalt and concrete. Sophia’s weakened grip couldn’t hold and she sailed off like a kid over the handlebars of a bike that’d smacked a wall. A particularly thorny bush caught her in a spray of snapping twigs.

  As she extracted herself, hissing with pain from the myriad scrapes and scratches across her skin, she froze in place. She felt her before she saw her.

  A monster with a tawny hide, eyes glowing as if burning emeralds. Sophia swallowed hard, but the lump in their throat refused to budge. Tess was a frail creature compared to the hulking lioness. Even Ifon could be considered scrawny against her.

  Most terrifying of all were all the weapons orbiting her Knives of all shapes and sizes, swords and lances from who knows where, even guns, formed rings around her, tumbling about in perpetual freefall. The centerpiece, however, was Mun’skit, spinning lazily above her back.

  Her great nose twitched, scenting the intruders.

  Sejit growled, a deep rumble that sent tremors radiating under their feet.

  “You’ve done enough,” Ifon said, standing proud but keeping his distance, “The ones who gave the orders are dead. You’ve had your vengeance.”

  The great lion took a step forward, asphalt crumbled beneath her bulk.

  “He’s right,” Tess said, sidling casually to one direction to put some distance between herself and Ifon. Some thirty feet separated her from the lion. Sejit’s head dropped low, her focus shifting between each of them in turn.

  “You’re just jerking off at this point. You know well as anyone this doesn’t help shit. Just look—how many innocents have already died?”

  Save for the collapse of a building here and there, the occasional, distant scream or sobbing plea for help, it was silent. Sophia attempted to take refuge in the prickly bush, paying no heed to fresh scrapes or the stings of existing ones being raked anew.

  “This isn’t what he would have wanted,” Tess continued, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper.

  A deafening roar cut through the air. Where Sejit once was, there was nothing.

  She pounced, sailing across the gap between them, legs outstretched. The lazily spinning polearm righted itself, slamming down with all the fury the lion could muster as she landed in the same beat.

  Tess wrenched
hard to the side, stray bits of fur shaved off as the blade sliced through where she once was. Chunks of road sprayed out from the impact, bombarding Sophia in a hail of gravel and asphalt. She’d decided, at that moment, that the bush was less than ideal cover and skittered for the nearest bit of solid cover or crevice like a startled roach.

  Claws and a hail of knives lunged after Tess, forcing her on the defensive, running her down. She moved well, but not well enough. By the time Ifon joined the fray, a number of knives and even a sword were stuck in her flesh before regeneration slid them out and sealed the punctures.

  Sejit redirected her wrath towards the insolent newcomer, prized weapon flashing out in a sideways swipe, intending to catch the wolf’s legs. He hopped to avoid, but that left him unable to dodge her charge, claws catching the meat of his shoulder and dragging him down. Before fangs could clamp round his neck, the asphalt boiled over.

  She launched backwards just in time to avoid an eruption of flame, a bolt of fire stretching to the clouds.

  Again, there was distance between them and her, for all the good it did. Sejit dealt out a flurry of blows and received none in return. Things were already looking grim.

  “Hey cunt, don’t act like you can’t hear us!”

  Sejit rumbled in reply.

  “Or that you can’t talk!”

  She stalked back and forth, as if deciding whom to attack first.

  “Sejit,” Ifon began, his tail held low. It brushed the ground, dirt mixing in with the drying blood to stain his white fur a ruddy gray, “You must be wondering what we’re doing together, facing you like this. The goddess whose family I ordered killed, working with me. Madness, isn’t it? Yet what madness would compel us? You are stronger than this. Do not give in.”

  She snarled, flashing her fangs. Her stalking ceased, pointed at Ifon.

  Ifon’s lips peeled back, meeting fang with fang. “So be it.”

  The Champion of Winter howled in greeting to a rush of frigid winds, blasting away Sejit’s bloody rain and bringing with it a blizzard to make the snowy affair from a few days ago look like scattered flurries. Visibility plummeted to almost nil, despite the fact it was still early afternoon.

  Sophia fumbled about, still in search of someplace safe. Although where, in the battered cityscape, was safe, remained to be found. All she knew was she was too close to the action for comfort and scuttling was her best option.

  Wolf and lioness hurled themselves at one another, armaments of ice against steel. The few firearms in Sejit’s possession fired off haphazardly, blades lashed and lunged. Ice shattered and pierced, steel blunted and slashed. Each impact blew away snow and debris, every swipe and thrust fast enough to outpace sound itself.

  They dealt wounds to one another in their first pass that’d kill lesser gods, to say nothing of mortals. Blood drenched fur and ran out in great streams, splattering like someone was upending bucketfuls at a time. Yet it was only ever a single bucketful from each wound as time rewound and the injury never existed.

  Wherever Sejit landed, Tess speared through with fire. The lioness was quick, avoiding most flames, but not all. One great ball of fire even managed to consume half her body, charring fur and searing flesh. She roared in agony, forgetting all about Ifon to focus on Tess.

  As before, while Sejit focused on one, the other seized the opportunity to bombard her from afar, hurling great frozen lances and blocking her murderous charges with thick sheets of ice. Even still, Tess was not cut out for close combat and took a terrible blow across the spine, knocking her to the ground and leaving her paralyzed for several long moments. Sejit pounced for the killing strike.

  Ifon took her claws to the flank, rent to the bone.

  A yelp of pain, a growl of defiance, Sejit’s inertia carried her forward, leaving her vulnerable for a fleeting instant. Ifon’s jaws clamped down upon her shoulder, tearing meat and crushing bone in a snap of carnivorous teeth.

  The mighty lion fell to the ground, slid, then sprang up on three legs and hopped away as if it were a scratch. Her shoulder knit together in series of wet cracks and squelches. In seconds, she was again whole.

  “Lot of fucking good this is doing us,” Tess snarled, “What a tough bitch.”

  Sejit’s ears swiveled to home in on Tess.

  “Yeah you heard me!”

  “This might take a while,” Ifon said, maneuvering to circle behind Sejit.

  In turn she backed off, ensuring they remained to her front, or at least sides.

  Through the fog of the blizzard a missile slammed next to Sejit, explosion singing her fur. She whirled, facing up into the clouds at her mark—not even the tempest could blind her. Ifon tried to seize the opportunity, but Sejit’s legs blasted her off with such force the ground buckled and she vanished into the storm. Or maybe it was that she vanished into the dark, roiling clouds.

  A lion’s head emerged from the formless shapes, mouth opening wide, chasing the unseen, and snapped shut. A muffled thump and a flash of light, and then another and three more. Bits of burning metal streaked towards the ground, along with a lion, diving from the heavens like a meteor.

  Sophia had taken refuge behind what remained of a cinderblock wall. The ‘remained’ part gave her equal parts worry and comfort. She was probably far enough away, but the heavy snow made it damn near impossible to see them; she followed them more by sound than sight. Sharp gales cut through her thin jacket like it wasn’t even there, chilling her to the bone. She shivered and hugged herself tight. Snow was already accumulating deep in nooks and corners.

  Tess had to think. They were still holding back, but for what reason? Sejit had no such reserves. Then again, maybe Ifon wasn’t. She’d never seen him really fight, and Sejit had kicked his ass all those years ago.

  It’d damn near gotten her killed. If it wasn’t for Ifon willing to take a bad hit, she’d have been torn apart. Smart wolf, at least, to know letting her die wasn’t going to benefit him. Which also applied to her, now that she thought about it. Maybe she’d been holding back, hoping Sejit would kill him for her.

  Oh, that would be a given, if this kept on, but then she’d be next.

  Twice she’d tried to penetrate her spirit, as she once had, but in the thousands of years Sejit’d learned to steel herself, just as Ifon had done. Just as she’d feared. Though, unlike his fortress of a mind, hers was… ramshackle. Some chainlink fences with barbed wire in place of solid stone. She knew she could get in if she just had some time—a precious commodity.

  How fortunate, then, the lion made a mistake. In her zeal to slaughter anything, everything to do with Erton, she left herself vulnerable. A meteor she might have been, her course was just as direct.

  Tess was not one to miss a soft-lob.

  Anger, rage, at the world, at them—at herself—focused to a point.

  A quick glance to her side: Ifon had a similar idea, preparing lances of ice the size of telephone poles, honed to a point keen enough to impale a snowflake.

  Just before Sejit impacted, their combined efforts went off.

  A brilliant white detonation blinded them, obscuring the lion and some dozen spears lanced through, ten appearing across the other side of the boiling sphere of incandescent rage before vaporizing in puffs of steam. Most were covered in blackened blood and fur.

  Tess channeled unkindled memories to fuel the inferno. She made herself remember. She made herself feel it all over again and again.

  All those who’d died because of who she was. Children, children of children, most of whom had never seen her, let alone knew she existed. Today. This hour. This minute. This was the time things would be made right! No more pointless slaughter of children whose only crime it was to be born. No more hiding and cowering and maneuvering. No more watching them die. No more.

  End it all!

  Concrete liquefied and boiled, tendrils of lava spewed from the radiant sphere, which began to swell and stretch and reach towards the sky as it fed from the earth and wreckage, until it
resembled a force of nature.

  A god-made volcano erupted. 10 yards tall, 20, and then 30, 40, 50. The volcano grew, churning up heaving globs of molten rock and consuming it and spitting it back out.

  Tess began to laugh, shrill and maniacal, into the face of the natural disaster she’d created, even as it bore down around her.

  Ifon darted away, so happening to pick the direction towards where Sophia was making herself tiny. Upon seeing the wolf dashing at—and then past—her, they both fled another few hundred feet away from certain death by immolation.

  Heat like the center of the planet kissed Tess, caressed her fur, but never went beyond shy affection, even as she too was engulfed. The child knew its mother.

  All senses extinguished, save for her sixth sense, the reach of her soul. She found Sejit’s.

  …What’s this?

  Tess snarled in protest—Sejit’s mind was still whole, still focused and guarded and why, why, why wasn’t she scattered and so easy to pick apart!

  A subtle shift, a slight weakening. What child could hope to contain a god?

  Blackened tooth and claw and bone ripped through liquid rock and steel and found Tess, tearing jagged, searing gashes across her throat and chest.

  The volcano went dormant, the power behind it slammed shut. Atop molten rock, their bodies fell. Tess on her side, Sejit upon all four bony paws. Her skeleton smoldered, snow popping where it struck. All the weapons save for her lover’s ancient polearm were gone. It still spun slow, lazy circles above her spine, glowing with heat.

  Time reversed. Flesh and fur grew from bone.

  But not without its cost. Her stance was not so sure, not so powerful.

  Ifon hurled sheets of ice, bombarding the lava to cool it, harden it, and at the same time launched himself forward. Great clouds of hissing steam served to obscure his approach.

  Sejit’s reaction was sluggish, so sluggish Ifon caught her round the neck.

  Tess was slow to stand. She coughed, flinching from wounds that were almost reluctant to mend in a timely fashion.

  Ifon couldn’t believe his luck—her neck in his jaws, but after what he’d just witnessed, he had doubts about the effectiveness of crushing her windpipe, piercing her jugular. He should’ve exalted in the coppery taste of victory flooding into his mouth, but he still felt… disadvantaged. Wisps of fear stayed his soaring predator’s heart.