Sworn to Quell

by Terah Edun

  But Ciardis could feel herself dying with each step.

  Her physical energy was draining.

  Her magical core had nothing left to give.

  She had nowhere else to fall back to…and the goddess knew that.

  With her back against the opposite side of the room than the one Ciardis had started out from, she took long gasping breaths. She was exhausted. Her shoulders shuddered with the pain of the effort to keep her blade upright. Sweat dripped into her eyes, and her knees threatened to collapse under her.

  In contrast, the goddess looked as fresh as a daisy.

  She held her sword wide. She wasn’t even trying to come after Ciardis. Just watching as her mortal opponent caught up with her.

  Straightening her shoulders, Ciardis said impulsively, “Shall we get on with it?”

  The goddess tilted her head in a quizzical manner. “With this game?”

  Ciardis glared at her as she said, “With your death.”

  An ironic smile twitched onto the goddess’s face. “You are cockier than the women who served in your place before.”

  Ciardis snorted. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but that’s a first. I’ll take it as a compliment.”

  Sebastian appeared miraculously by Ciardis’s side at that moment, and she noticed that the field preventing anyone from joining them atop the table had dissolved.

  Eyeing Sebastian out of the corner of her eye, Ciardis was unashamedly glad to know that if she were going to die, at least she wouldn’t be alone while a dozen eyes watched, powerless to reach her.

  She didn’t want that.

  She wanted to die surrounded by friends, if not family, with a smile on her face.

  If she couldn’t have that, she’d settle for not leaving the realm while in pain, desperate, and alone.

  Then Sebastian spoke. “If our ancestors defeated you, so shall we.”

  “What’s make you think any of that lot so much as stood against me?” the goddess said derogatorily.

  “History tells us,” Sebastian said defiantly.

  The goddess smiled at him. “Your history tells you a lot of things. Doesn’t mean it’s always right…or that entire truth gets told.”

  Sebastian shook his head, and Ciardis blinked, wondering what the goddess meant by that.

  She was still trying to catch her breath when the goddess disappeared again. She reappeared across the table in a flash, only to behead a noble immediately. Maybe a merchant. Too many bodies had already fallen to the floor for Ciardis to really differentiate one person’s clothing from another’s. They were all the same color. Red.

  The goddess flickered again, back to the middle of the table, away from Ciardis—she had conspicuously taken someone else with her. Sebastian. And this time Ciardis Weathervane was much too far away to counteract any blow she would make against the prince heir, and what’s more Ciardis highly doubted the deity would be so gracious as to wait for her as she made her way slowly across the tabletop either.

  The first time had been a courtesy.

  This time, however, the goddess was not playing around. Ciardis turned to look helplessly around. Very few warriors still bore a weapon. But that didn’t mean they were helpless.

  To her everlasting surprise, the last members of the conclave who could still move rallied to Sebastian Athanos Algardis’s side.

  They may not have liked Sebastian.

  They may have even verbally questioned his ability to rule.

  But he was the only thing standing between them and the complete failure of the empire.

  Kith and human surged up with a roar that dislodged chunks of already-loose plaster from the ceiling.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Ciardis even noticed Thanar rise on unsteady feet.

  He had been one of the first nearly fatal casualties of the goddess’s swathe of destruction through the room. He still looked pretty bad with lacerations up and down his front and a wing that was hanging on by what generously could be termed a thread.

  But still he stood, riding waves of white-hot pain as he did.

  A single tear dropped down Ciardis’s cheek in response. Not in sympathetic pain though.

  In pride.

  She was proud of Thanar.

  She was proud of the conclave of Algardis.

  They may have been a backstabbing lot of nobles, merchants, and kith more interested in securing their own parties first. But when push came to shove, they came together.

  And that…that was all she could ask for in these moments.

  When Ciardis’s gaze refocused on the goddess standing before Sebastian, he’d been released from the agony that had clutched him.

  A momentary reprieve that Ciardis knew very well was fleeting.

  It gave them a chance to collect their thoughts, but that wasn’t all it did.

  She’s as calculatingly cruel as she is powerful, Ciardis thought in a weary voice to herself.

  And it was true.

  Because the brief pauses allowed them to refresh themselves, to think they may still have hope. And then the goddess would swoop right back in to take it all away.

  Ciardis’s face scrunched up into a scowl as she grew angrier and angrier.

  At the goddess’s tactics and her motives, or lack thereof.

  She had come down to do nothing but wantonly kill for the sake of it.

  Ciardis couldn’t stand it.

  Standing on the tabletop, in a room full of dead individuals and crushed bodies, Ciardis couldn’t take it anymore.

  Not the hopelessness. Not the pain.

  Fiery gaze pinned on the goddess, Ciardis Weathervane said in a voice that was as torn as the rest of her, “I hope you rot in the depths of your own personal perdition for what you’ve done.”

  The goddess smiled and cracked her knuckles as she said, “What makes you think I don’t live there already?”

  Ciardis said, “Then it certainly isn’t the underworld I imagined.”

  “Oh, child,” the goddess said with a twinkle in her eyes. “You and I…we will have so much fun.”

  Ciardis, tired and uncaring, spoke for everyone as she said, “Is that before or after you kill us all?”

  The goddess shrugged. “I’m deciding that now.”

  “Well, think fast,” the prince heir bowed at the goddess’s feet said as he motioned around the room. “Some of us are pretty close to death’s door at the moment.”

  The goddess switched her attention to him with a bit of amusement. “Is that your way of pleading for your life?”

  A bit of humor came into Sebastian’s voice as he said, “You haven’t seen me plead and you certainly won’t now.”

  “Not even for your people?” the goddess said.

  Ciardis answered for Sebastian this time. “We would do anything to protect our people. To honor the people who have some courageously died around us resisting you and to save so many others. But we’ve learned one thing in every struggle we’ve faced.”

  The goddess raised an eyebrow as she asked, “And what is that?”

  Thanar spoke through gritted teeth as Ciardis felt another wave of pain tear through him, past the mental shields he’d put up as he hobbled a few steps closer to Sebastian’s side. “Never trust the devil offering you a deal.”

  The goddess flashed a grin. “Well, I can’t argue with that. Except I’m no under-demon.”

  Ciardis said, “You are what you promised to be. We can’t fault your honesty there.”

  The goddess nodded. “And I can’t say I’m unpleasantly surprised at what I’ve found here. You are certainly more…loyal…than the last cult. If entirely inept at your duty.”

  Ire flashed through Ciardis but she kept her tone from rising into a shout as she said, “And what duty would that be?”

  The goddess smiled. “Well, the one where you’re supposed to finish me off, of course. I don’t see that happening, though.”

  Sebastian gave a callous laugh. “Just give us a few minutes, we’
ll come up with something.”

  The goddess snorted and walked around him, kicking him in the back as she did so. Sebastian flew toward the ground with a force that would leave several bruises. The goddess didn’t even touch Thanar. She just glanced at him and he fell backward with a scream as black fire consumed him.

  All the while she calmly walked toward Ciardis Weathervane.

  Throat dry, Ciardis watched her approach.

  Oh, she could have charged forward, swinging what was left of her sword.

  But she was no warrior and she knew she’d end up slipping on the blood as easily as Thanar could dance around it.

  So she waited.

  The goddess stopped just out of reach of Ciardis’s blade.

  She studied the Lady Companion.

  Then she smiled.

  Finally Ciardis couldn’t take it anymore.

  “What?” she snapped.

  The goddess said, “You’re going to look even prettier dead. I do so love how a perfectly murdered body falls just so.”

  10

  Bile came up in Ciardis’s throat as she gave the goddess a few choice words that couldn’t be repeated in polite company. In any company, really.

  The goddess tsked. “Such language. But since you’ve been a…let’s say enlightening experience if not exactly challenging…I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

  Ciardis’s eyes hardened as she asked in a guarded tone, “What’s that?”

  The goddess studied her and then said simply, “I have a name.”

  Ciardis didn’t quite know what to say to that. But it turned out the goddess wasn’t really looking for an answer so much as creating a distraction.

  Like a benevolent murderess, she had turned away Ciardis Weathervane’s attention from the danger at hand. Just enough that she was startled but not utterly terrified when the goddess struck out, moving so fast that she didn’t walk to Ciardis, she just disappeared and reappeared nose-to-nose to her.

  With an evil look in her eyes and a satisfied smile, she lifted the only Weathervane present by her throat and cooed, “Call me Amani.”

  Ciardis kicked and flailed, but she didn’t have a weapon to turn against the goddess. The first thing the goddess had done was grab Ciardis’s armed hand in a viselike grip and twisted her wrist until bone cracked and the knife that had turned into a radiant sword dropped from her now-useless fingers.

  As stars flashed in Ciardis’s eyes, she wondered if this was how her life would end. Being held up like a child by a merciless village bully, unable to do anything but squirm and try to scream.

  The prince heir raised up out of his crouch and lunged for the goddess, but she backhanded him as absentmindedly as she had kicked him just moments before.

  This time he fell all the way to the ground and didn’t rise.

  Hope died in Ciardis’s chest with him.

  She struggled to breathe and her memories were flashed wildly before her eyes.

  Actions she could have done. Preparations she could have made.

  They had had years to prepare for the imminent arrival of the deity who reigned over death and destruction, and this was how it was going to end?

  Ciardis couldn’t believe it.

  But she was fairly certain no one else could either.

  Their efforts and Sebastian’s short tenure as ruler of Algardis would go down as the ineptest attempt to save the Empire of Algardis in its history.

  If there’s a history after this point, Ciardis thought morbidly.

  After all, who would be there to write the history books if no one was left alive to remember it?

  It certainly wasn’t what she wanted to be remembered for in death. On the other hand, did it really matter how you died? As long as she went down fighting, Ciardis comforted herself with the thought it didn’t, and as the air was strangled from her lungs, she thought that this death was almost…idyllic. At least in comparison to being gutted from throat to navel as some others before her had been.

  Before long, Ciardis slumped over the goddess’s tightened hand. Her circulation, magical and air, had been cut off too long for her to resist anymore. Like a doll she hung there, wondering when it finally would be over.

  Soon enough, child, soon enough, whispered a voice in her that she didn’t recognize.

  Before she could pinpoint its origin, an enraged voice she did recognize spoke aloud to the room at large.

  “Amani, cease this,” yelled Thanar.

  As Ciardis dangled in midair, the goddess’s tight grasp about her throat making her see painful stars, she fought to retain consciousness and warn Thanar back. Even wheezing out the words was difficult, made more so by a not-so-gentle squeeze of her throat which was the goddess’s way of warning Ciardis that she should be silent or she’d join the bodies on the floor as one of the permanently silent.

  Ciardis heeded her warning. With a frustrated moan, she fell quiet and tried to tell Thanar with her eyes if not her mind what she wanted him to do.

  Run.

  There was no other way.

  He had proven himself already. Proven his loyalty.

  There was no reason for him to stay in defeat.

  But like always he didn’t listen and came forward again.

  Ciardis couldn’t watch him drag his torn wing across the floor like a broken bird coming back to a predator for more savagery. Instead, she focused desperate attention on the other person who could help Thanar, and her.

  Her fingers weakly fluttered as she desperately reached for Sebastian’s slumped body on the floor. But she knew. She knew far too much blood coated the marble floor beneath him. His form was too silent for him to be anything but dead. But anything was possible and Ciardis had to believe that if he was truly dead…the seeleverbindung would have reacted in some manner.

  But she wouldn’t believe it until she could confirm herself. Thanar was drawing ever closer to her, but he too would be unable to reach Sebastian. Besides, all the daemoni prince’s attention was focused on the goddess who gripped her.

  So Ciardis did what she could by scratching futilely with one hand at the marble-like grip that held her up so high in a defiant demonstration for anyone still living to see.

  The other she outstretched to the young man who was incapable of seeing her gesture.

  Possibly of seeing anything ever again.

  Thanar surged forward, again calling to the goddess to stop.

  Amani dropped Ciardis as if Ciardis were a rag doll she’d grown bored of.

  From her slumped position, Ciardis watched Thanar step over her prone body and face the goddess head-on. She was breathing heavily to regain her breath, so no one heard the gasp of shock that passed her lips when she finally got a good look at Thanar’s back.

  It was riveted with scars from where he had already taken blows and lashes from the goddess’s first attack.

  But still he stood proud.

  And so would she.

  Ciardis struggled to her knees, then stood, glaring at the deity in front of them—Sebastian still motionless behind the goddess.

  She couldn’t protect them. They couldn’t protect each other. At the very least, then, they could die together.

  Amani looked the daemoni prince up and down as she said lazily, “I recognized you, from the moment I met you, but this personality was unexpected.”

  In a pain-filled voice, Thanar said, “It shouldn’t be.”

  Amani’s eye twitched. “Oh yes, yes, I’d recognize that bravado anywhere. That irreverence that your people are famed for.”

  Thanar stood still, still as a stone except for the bits of his torn wing that fluttered in a room that had no wind.

  The goddess continued, “My little prince. You’ve returned to me.”

  Still Thanar was silent.

  Ciardis, however, had no problems speaking up.

  She had already lost one of them. She wouldn’t lose another.

  “He’s not your anything,” she shouted. “He’s mine.
He’s ours. He’s broken with you and fallen in with us. I’m sorry, Amani, but you’ve lost a formerly loyal subject. Now kindly go back to your underhell where you belong.”

  The goddess’s fingers twitched as though she was itching to wrap them right back around Ciardis’s throat, but she didn’t touch her.

  Instead she said in an infinitely patience voice, “Oh, there’s so much you don’t understand, Weathervane.”

  “Well,” Ciardis said simply while crossing her arms, “you said I enlightened you before. Why don’t you return the favor? Tell me what I’m missing.”

  The goddess turned to her, and her eyes were like stars. Infinite. Endless.

  But Amani spoke in a normal tone. “Very well. To you, to humans, I am a bane. I am the deity of death and destruction and I mean you no good.”

  Ciardis nodded. “That’s fairly self-explanatory.”

  The goddess gave her a brittle smile. “As I said, your…wit amuses me.”

  Thanar let out a sound of dismissal as he said, “Enough of this.”

  “No,” Ciardis cautioned, “let her finish. Go on, goddess. Tell us what we’re missing. Tell us how you are more than you seem even as you stand atop the bodies, blood, and entrails of the people whose only crime was to defend their land and their realm.”

  The goddess’s eyebrows snapped together at the censure but she remained calm. Ciardis was briefly thankful for that, even though she couldn’t quite keep her words on the right side of civil. She knew that an angry goddess could have wiped them all from the face of the earth in seconds. Amani, however, seemed to like drawing things out, even when being disrespected.

  “Very well,” Thanar said stiffly.

  The goddess continued unprompted, “As I said, to humans I am a bane. But to the kith like your daemoni friend, I am a merciful benefactor. A protector and an aggressor.”

  “That’s a lie,” Ciardis said, shocked.

  The goddess pinned her with a hard gaze. “I do not lie. We will take back what is ours. Our lands, our magic, and our heritage. But we’ll follow the stipulations in doing so, and then your kind…will perish.”

  “What is she talking about?” Ciardis said in a guarded voice.

  “A way out if he’ll take it,” the goddess said with a wicked smile. “For his Companion. For your people. For your empire.”