by Lee Roland
Aiakós pounded his fist on the table in front of him. It cracked—the sound bounced around the room—but did not break. “I am a prisoner here because Innana fears me. I am not a guest.”
I jumped. Abigail sat, graceful and relaxed. He did not intimidate her.
Aiakós leaned back in his chair and glared at her, but said nothing.
Abigail turned to me. “Now, is there anything I can do to help you? I have my assignment, but I can do other things.”
For a moment, I couldn’t speak. Then I said, “At some point, we could use some light. Étienne’s men are equipped with night-vision goggles. I saw them. Removing that advantage might help.”
“I can provide excellent light. It can be selective, too. I simply need a place where I can observe.”
“I have to go,” I said to Michael. “I’m going to try to stop them from getting here. If they do, it will be up to you, Aiakós and Abigail.”
“I can go with you,” he said. He drew me into his arms. Oh, how warm, how safe.
I leaned back and smiled at him. “No, my love. You stay here and keep an eye on him.”
My words didn’t escape him. “Am I your love? You’ve never said it.”
I didn’t hesitate now. “I think you were that from the first moment I saw you.”
He released me, but I could feel the reluctance.
“Thank you.” I hugged him again. “For letting me go.”
“Against my will and all instinct that says to keep you close and protect you.”
I kissed him, then walked back down into the plaza. Eunice stepped out of one of the abandoned buildings on the side. She stood in the doorway and stared out at the darkened streets. We went inside the building. She closed the door and turned on a small battery lamp. Hildy stood to the side.
“She stepped in front of you?” Eunice asked. Her mind had returned to Lillian. I didn’t know if she was speaking to me or herself. She eyed me again.
An ache filled me. “Yes. Lillian died for me, Eunice. You better not do the same tonight.”
“You damn well better believe I won’t.” I knew what she meant. She would survive. I believed her.
“Oh, puke.” Hildy said as she stepped out of the shadows. She was a sight. She wore a bronze helmet and carried a shield and a sword so long it was a miracle she could lift it.
“Hildy, will that outfit stop bullets?”
She tapped the sword against the shield. “Kevlar. Got a vest, too. Justice needs to come into the new age.”
“Hildy?” I just realized something. “You’re not coughing. Or wheezing.”
Hildy muttered a short string of curses.
Eunice chuckled. “The witch healed her. She wouldn’t have made it out the door carrying all that weight. The witch fixed it so Sister Hildegard will get deathly ill if she lights up again, though. Fucking witch doesn’t do anything for free.”
“Indeed.” I jumped at the voice. Kyros stepped out of the darkness.
Eunice had her gun out and aimed at Kyros’s face, and Hildy had the sword up and ready in seconds.
I jumped in front of him. “Stop! This is Kyros. He’s the leader of the Drows who want to go home. They’re going to fight for us. We can’t do it without them. They’re our army.”
Eunice and Hildy didn’t say anything.
I turned to Kyros but kept my body between him and the Sisters.
“Just before Étienne and his men enter the plaza, Abigail is going to provide light. Lots of light. The men will be wearing night-vision goggles. I don’t know if the light will temporarily blind them, but I hope so. They’re coming with some armored vehicles. Or so he said.”
“I will disable the vehicles,” Kyros said over my shoulder. “They will come from the north. They have been clearing the way for some time. We will fix the street so they cannot get vehicles past. They must then come on foot. If they arrive right at midnight, they will not have time to go around. There will be other surprises, too. The buildings are relatively tall here. Some of us can fly and drop heavy objects.”
“Kyros, I’m afraid you might lose some of your people.”
“I know.” I could hear the sadness in his voice. He wasn’t human, but like the others from his home, he was capable of some humanlike emotions. “We are willing to make the sacrifice. If we stay here, we will all perish. This way, some of us will go home.”
I did like his courage. “Will you promise me you will personally stay out of the fight? If you go down, the others have no hope. I know bullets won’t hurt you, but . . .”
“I will stay back. At least until failure seems certain. I am not a warrior. If Aiakós sees me, he will forget the fight. He will tear me apart. That will most certainly be painful.”
“Okay, maybe Spot and his buddies could drop some stink bombs on them.”
“Stink bombs?”
“You know. They could . . . ah . . . shit . . . ah . . . defecate on them. It has a really potent smell.”
He chuckled as he backed away into the darkness. I had to admit, the image was pretty entertaining.
I turned back to the Sisters. “Any questions?”
Eunice holstered her gun. “This Aiakós . . .”
“Looks like Kyros, only bigger and badder. Think house cat compared to tiger.”
“Are they all like him?” Hildy asked. “The Drows?”
“No. He’s the only one like that.” I described the Drows to them and what they needed to watch for, especially the Custos and their poisonous saliva. They accepted it in silence. When I finished, they stared at each other.
Eunice grunted at me. “Fucking iguana of yours. I puked for three hours.”
“I’m sorry. Spot thought you hurt me.”
Eunice turned off the light and opened the door again. We needed to hear them coming.
Darkness had long settled over the silent ruins. Only a few lights showed in Aiakós’s building, and there was no evidence of activity.
I tensed as I heard the distant sound of engines. They stopped, maybe two blocks away. Shouts came, followed by a bit of gunfire. Then more silence. Kyros, true to his word, had managed to stop them. It wouldn’t have been hard. The Beheras could probably have dug some holes or piled concrete in the way. There was no time to drive around.
Time is a malleable thing. You can slice it into seconds, but it doesn’t make a bit of difference. There’s always too much of it but somehow not enough. The only thing you know for sure is that you can’t outrun it. Standing there in the night, it seemed to stretch forever.
Footsteps came toward us—the shuffling footsteps of many silent, well-trained men. But there were no armored cars. Then they stopped, cut off by a loud, deep grunt. Then another and another until the night was filled with the sound of giant bullfroglike noises.
Painful screams filled the air. Shots rang out. Men shouted. More screams split the air. The battle for the Zombie had begun.
Light and magic filled the night like a new dawn. Abigail had given us the ability to see our enemy half a block away. The Custos flew over them and I knew they’d been dropping venom on the oncoming army. I shivered.
Armed men staggered on to the edge of the plaza. Some more impaired than others. It looked like there were fewer than sixty. The witch Oonagh would be in the middle of the pack, well protected.
The giant scaled Beheras surged out of the buildings, claws out, using their great arms to club anything they could hit. Men went down, tripping over one another.
Chaos reigned. Shouts, gunshots . . . shrieks of pain.
Hildy charged into the battle, shield up.
I went right behind her.
Where were Aiakós and Michael? They should have been there.
One of the Beheras stepped in front of me and pushed on, clearing a path. The bullets didn’t seem to affect them. I used my gun selectively. Any unprotected body part—an arm, a knee, a throat—was subject to injury. Screams and gunfire hammered my ears.
I saw a Custos d
own, dying, but still crawling along, biting any unarmored flesh it could find. A head, complete with helmet, bounced in front of me, then a leg. Hildy, with her ancient weapons, was showing her skills on the battleground.
Then came a roar that filled the plaza with animal rage—a sound that echoed through the empty buildings and streets. It filled the air with terror. Aiakós had arrived. Michael was probably with him.
Where was the damned witch? Étienne’s troops were in disarray. I had to get to her before someone got a lucky shot.
I felt her before I saw her. Her strange, alien magic shimmered in circles that radiated outward. I knew she’d come here with the intention of healing herself, but she had misjudged again. All of her will was now bent on protection. In the middle of this power center, she was hunched over, debilitated, her illness corroding her body. Her skin rippled as if it would peel off at any second.
She saw me. “Where’s your Triad, Sister?” I heard her shrill voice over the pandemonium of battle, amplified by magic.
Her eyes widened as I stepped through her inner circle of power. It buzzed and turned my stomach, but with one gasp, I made it through.
“My Triad is here, but I wanted you for myself. You killed my mother. You killed my father. All for that trinket you’re wearing.” A murderous rage filled me as I spat the words. “You’re a coward, so afraid of death that you sold your soul and the lives of others around you.”
“Your mother was a useless rag of a woman who dared call herself a witch.” Oonagh held the Portal tight in her fist and clutched it to her breast over her heart. “She had no right to this.”
I had a knife and I had a gun. But neither would suit me. I wanted to do this with my hands. Before I could reach her, she hit me with a spell of such magnitude I staggered. The alien magic did affect me after all. It burned for an instant before it faded away. I kept moving. Another burning spell knocked me to my knees.
I forced myself up and lunged toward her.
Drawing deep breaths, I had to tell her. “You have no power over me, witch.”
I knocked her over backward.
I straddled her and locked my hands around her throat. She’d lost her ability to hold her circle of power. She beat at me with her fists, but they were no more than taps against my skin. I squeezed. She choked. The muscles under my hands knotted as she struggled to breathe. Her eyes bulged.
“How does it feel?” I taunted her. I suddenly realized she couldn’t hear me. She was desperate for her own life’s breath. For one brief second, I saw my mother’s face. What was I doing? I had refrained from killing Kenny out of pity. I had no pity for Oonagh. But I would not kill again. Let others have the vengeance they would. Except for one thing, I was done here.
I released her and tore the Portal from her hands.
“No! Give it back! I’ll die without it.” She rasped out the words and clawed at me.
“Yes. The Earth Mother will judge you, Oonagh.” I rose and left her there. “Vengeance is hers. I’m done with it.”
I quickly stuffed the Portal in my jeans pocket. The battle still raged, but men along the fringes were running. I did a quick glance around for Étienne. He lay in the gutter in a pool of blood. After binding himself to Oonagh so he could live, he had lost his life to protect her. I started to go to him when something else caught my attention. Eunice. She lay facedown in the street.
“Eunice.” I raced over, stepping around several severed heads scattered on the pavement. I fell to my knees beside her. I could not lose her. Her chest rose and fell. She was alive. If I could get her to Abigail . . .
I searched around for Termas. He was the only one who could carry her. All of the Drows chased the fleeing men. Eunice groaned.
“Eunice? Can you get up?”
She made it into a sitting position, then lumbered to her feet. I held her steady. We maneuvered among the bodies, her arm slung around my shoulder, until we stood by a building. I could see no obvious wounds. She leaned back against the wall and slid down to sit on the sidewalk.
“I’m not hurt bad,” she said before she lost consciousness. I had to get her help.
But I didn’t have time.
“There you are.” Aiakós’s deep voice rumbled behind me. “Give it to me.”
I stood to face the blood-covered savage beast. Nothing of the urbane and sophisticated creature I’d met earlier remained. His scarlet mane stood like a crest over his head, and his eyes glowed. He’d gotten bigger—and taller. His claws were two inches long, curved, and deadly sharp.
“Where’s Michael?” I demanded, trying to distract him. “Is he hurt?”
“Michael can’t help you, little witch. Give it to me,” he snarled. He grabbed my arm. The claws bit deep.
“Give you what?” I tried to sound innocent, but the pain came through. I wanted to jerk away. I didn’t. It might tear my arm off.
“Whatever the witches are fighting over. I don’t know what it is, but I’m sure I’ll find a use for it.”
He swung me around and threw me to the pavement. I rolled away and drew my gun.
Aiakós slowly approached, heedless of my weapon. As I watched him stalk toward me, clarity dawned. I saw the selfish hunger in his eyes. Though I’d been defending Aiakós as Michael’s father, I knew he wasn’t like the others I’d met here. There was no ambiguity about him. He was evil.
Now was the time to be a Sister of Justice. Not to avenge my mother and father or the life I could’ve had. I needed to deliver justice for the Drows he had slaughtered like animals. This was for the Barrows, the good people who lived with evil because the Earth Mother, for her own selfish reasons, held this rogue prisoner here. This was for Michael, who would never be free from his father. Unless . . .
I focused on him, his eyes and teeth of a lion, aimed my gun straight at his heart, and pulled the trigger.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
He jerked with each hit, which all landed square in the chest. He didn’t stop.
Five.
Six.
The gun clicked. Out of ammo, and no time to reload. I drew my small bronze knife, which Lillian had given me. A special knife, forged in the shadow of Mount Ararat before Christ’s birth.
He bent over me. His claws sank into my shoulder. I screamed, but I stabbed him in the leg. The only place I could reach.
He howled. Where the bullets had been ineffective, the knife cut deep into flesh and scraped bone. He released me and danced back.
I rolled away. It was a hopeless struggle, but I had to get out of his reach. I stumbled to my feet, made a single step to run. Aiakós grabbed my leg. His claws punched through my jeans and into my thigh and I went down. Not as bad as the Custos’s bite, but it hurt enough that I shrieked anyway.
I tried to stab him again. He had my wrist.
Termas and one of the Custos rushed out from a building.
“No!” I tried to shout, but it came out in a strangled sob.
Aiakós released me and rose to his feet. I lay on the ground by him, sobbing in agony.
Aiakós’s deep voice rumbled in a language I couldn’t understand—but I heard the emotion. A threat disguised in soothing tones. I thought of Michael.
Termas spoke in a series of clicks and grunts.
Aiakós stared down at me. “Well, it seems you have charmed these beasts.”
I was shaking, cold and hot at the same time.
He crouched beside me. “I will kill them. You know that, don’t you?”
I spat in his face. He slapped me back down to the ground, my head bouncing against the pavement. “Where is it?” He caught my shirt and ripped it open.
I laughed through the pain. “I threw it away.”
He sank his claws in again. The same leg, only deeper this time. Monstrous pain soared through me. I screamed again and it seemed as if I would never stop.
Termas roared and charged.
Aiakós jumped up and met h
im head on. No contest. Aiakós lifted him bodily and tossed him across the plaza. Termas landed on the sidewalk, rolled, and lay still. Aiakós didn’t wait for the Custos. In a flash, he was on the smaller Drow. His fist smashed into the Custos’s head and it collapsed.
Aiakós, the great beast, the father of my life’s true love, returned to me. I curled into a ball. He crouched again, looming over me like a vulture. My wounded leg jerked with involuntary spasms.
“Now. Let us talk without interruption.”
“Shove it up your ass, demon.” Hildy approached, sword in hand. Eunice, still unsteady, was beside her.
“No!” I cried. “He’ll kill you!”
Then Abigail stood beside them. The witch who could use the earth magic that Aiakós called his weakness. Her eyes were dark with exhaustion, though, and I doubted her ability to do anything.
Aiakós stared at them. “I can kill her before you touch me.” His voice rumbled with the threat. “Even you, witch.”
“Then we’ll all die, demon.” Hildy grinned. “Come play with me.”
“No.” Michael stalked toward us. “There’s another way.”
Chapter 39
Through the haze of pain, I could see the street was littered with bodies, the dead outnumbering the living. It was relatively quiet. My ragged breathing sounded loud in my ears.
“Let me give you something that’s worth more.” Michael knelt by me and brushed his hand over my forehead.
“Michael, don’t.” I gasped out the words. “Please don’t. Let me die.” I didn’t know what he would offer, but it was too much.
Michael shook his head. “I will do as you wish, Father. I will build your kingdom here in the Barrows. You know I can do it. You’ve seen what I did before you came here. If I had been in charge, this thing with Étienne would not have happened. Give me her life, and you can have mine.”