Medea’s head whipped around toward Ab, and she immediately cupped both of her hands in front of her, gathering energy into her palms. The bracelet on her right wrist glowed brighter and brighter as the ball of energy grew. She jerked, releasing the green light, now the size of a bowling ball. It flew like a comet toward Ab. For a split second, I thought about throwing my sword at the projectile in an attempt to deflect it, but given its speed, I decided that would be futile. I watched helplessly as the green orb collided with Ab in a dull impact that elicited a loud, pain-filled grunt and sent the massive Peri tumbling backward twenty feet into a bone-jarring flop.
Medea grinned and then chuckled as she once again began to limp toward the end of the dais I was using for cover. The closer she got, the more I could see her features darkening. She appeared gaunt and ancient.
“Your friends are going to die trying to save you, Diomedes. How noble.” She sneered coldly and began to gather another ball of energy in her hand, staring out at Ab. The bracelet on her wrist barely flashed at all, and the ball of energy sputtered to form in her hand.
“Erre es korokas, bitch,” I snarled.
She tilted her head, sneered at the old Greek curse, and laughed as she continued to limp closer. There wasn’t going to be a better time. I launched myself like a sprinter leaving the stocks, and surprise registered on her face as I came around the edge of the stage, moving as fast as my injuries and exhaustion would let me. It was fast enough.
In her astonishment, the old witch released the orb of energy haphazardly, and I batted it aside with my sword without slowing my charge. I bellowed furiously as I ran at her, covering the twenty-five feet between us so fast she had no time to do anything else. I rammed my sword into her chest, and her face was a mask of bewilderment as I struck her. I lowered my head to gaze into her dark, uncomprehending eyes.
“That’s what you get for fucking with my friends,” I said through clenched teeth then roared at the top of my lungs and pushed her body back off my sword and into a heap on the ground. “Not to mention my world.”
CHAPTER 39
At once, the few remaining Phonoi and Androktasiai collapsed, the magic that had bound them to their forms suddenly exhausted. A few yards to my left, a massive chunk of rubble from Medea’s first ceiling collapse grabbed my attention. I walked over, picked up the three-foot-long hunk of rock, and walked back over to Medea with it. Shouting, I raised the boulder overhead with every intention of dropping it on the old witch.
“Do it,” a weak voice said from out in the cavern behind me. The voice was gruff and filled with pain, but it was unmistakable. Ab was still alive.
Sudden visions of me standing over Aeneas at Troy flooded my mind. Holding the rock high overhead, I glowered down at the impaled and withered old woman. She was shaking and struggling to breathe. Whatever it was, this was different. I used the boulder to try to kill Aeneas because it was all I could find on the battlefield. This old hag was all but gone, and dropping a rock on her now would be an act of pure anger and hatred. Those were Medea’s motivating emotions, not mine. I screamed again in frustration and then tossed the rock on the ground next to her. I shook my head, the anger subsiding as I breathed.
Remembering Sarah, I ran back around the dais to where I’d laid her. She was breathing. Blood crusted her nose, minor cuts and bruises covered her arms, but I saw no serious injuries. Still, she was unconscious. I scooped her up and began wandering around. I didn’t know who or what I was searching for, but for the first time in perhaps thousands of years, I felt panicked. My heart began to race, and I felt sick to my stomach. Sarah was hurt, and I had no idea where Frigate and Geek were, or if they were even still alive. For all I knew, Duma was dead, too. To my left, I saw a pair of wounded Spartoi checking among the numerous bodies for their brethren.
Fifty feet away, toward the center of the cavern, I saw Ab slowly getting back to his feet. Nothing else in the cavern was moving. The area around the dais was mostly filled with rubble, and there were lifeless bodies, heavy scorch marks, piles of burning ash, and blood everywhere. The smell of cordite, burnt flesh, and ozone hung heavy in the still, fetid air. Even Perses was unmoving in the aftermath.
“Ab!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, heading toward him with Sarah in my arms. Seeing him moving after Medea’s attack gave me hope that everyone else might be okay, too.
“I’m okay,” he managed to say, standing bent over, breathing hard, and giving me a thumbs-up.
“What about the others? Frigate! Geek!” I called but got no response.
Still straightening up, Ab just pointed back toward the main entrance tunnel I’d left them in.
“Ab, come take Sarah. Duma’s back there.” I motioned with my head behind me toward the dais. “I don’t know if he’s okay.”
While his face was still swollen, blistered, and oozy, Ab’s eyes registered the same concern I felt. I saw what had happened to Duma, and the thought of it scared me, so instead, I focused on the humans in our group. I handed Sarah off to Ab and ran back to the collapsed main tunnel on legs that burned with exhaustion. I searched frantically for Frigate and Geek along the way but saw only dozens of dead bodies and unconscious and injured people.
My nose hurt, my arm stung where it had been sliced, and I had more random aches and pains than I could count from being thrown around. Even the burns on my legs were hurting again, but I continued searching, undaunted.
I ran into the main passageway and finally found them both there—slumped over but alive, and both, thankfully, beginning to come around. I was relieved and elated. Frigate’s dirty-blond hair was crusted with blood on the left side of his head, and his face was covered in crusty, bloody dirt, but he was otherwise okay. I helped Frigate get to his feet and made sure he was okay. Then, feeling guilty, I ran back to find out about Duma.
I found Ab next to Sarah and Duma along the back wall of the cavern behind the collapsed end of the dais. Duma was sitting upright, slapping at Ab’s hand as Ab poked at his brother’s head. I stopped and breathed deeply for a second and watched the two brothers, relieved beyond words to see Duma still alive. Sarah’s unconscious form lay next to him.
Unsure what to do, I bent down to check on her, taking her hand, fearful because she wasn’t recovering from the spell like everyone else. I tried to wake her up gently by talking to her. Finally, after a few minutes, her eyelids fluttered, but she still didn’t wake. I wondered what I had gotten her into as I held her hand and tried to brush her hair back from her face. I was wiping some of the dirt from her cheek when Frigate limped across the cavern toward us, lending an arm to Geek, who hopped along next to him. I could only manage a half smile as they approached.
“Ow,” Geek groaned. “What the bloody hell happened?” His shredded pants hung oddly where his prosthetic leg had been ripped loose, and dirt and dust covered him from head to toe. His face was caked with dried blood, and his right cheek was swollen and purple, but his eyes were wide and lively.
I turned back to Sarah, who had awakened and was watching me with the same kind of expression a person would have the morning after an alcohol-induced blackout. She winced as she rubbed her furrowed forehead. The pupils in her gray eyes were dilated. “What happened?”
“Magic,” I responded, too happy to hide my grin.
I just sat there for a long moment, holding her hand, looking across the cavern at the destruction. By this time, many of the prone figures around the cavern had started to stir. I assumed they were Medea’s surviving human minions and devotees—the ones stalwart and zealous enough not to flee.
“I’ll be right back,” I said, finally letting go of Sarah’s hand. I’d just realized my job wasn’t over yet. I rose to my feet with grim determination, grabbed the one sword I still had, and trudged back toward the nearest group of survivors—two men and a woman in white robes, about fifteen yards awa
y. Human or not, my intention was to kill all that hadn’t run away.
Before I could raise a sword, Sarah spoke in a weak voice from behind me. “Wait—you can’t.” There was a combination of urgency and concern in her voice. “I thought you were sworn to protect us… all of us humans.”
“It’s not safe to leave them alive,” I responded, propping the sword on my shoulder, unable to meet her gaze, afraid she’d see me for what I truly was. “Even though she intended to kill them all, zealots are hard to predict. They could have viewed death as their destiny, and having been denied their rightful reward, they may want revenge. These people may still pose a threat.”
“They’re just people. How can we be a threat to you?”
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” I said, finally looking up at her. She was on her feet and walking unsteadily toward me.
“Steve… Diomedes,” she said shakily, “most of these people are frightened and innocent. Most of them never even lifted a weapon against us. Who knows what Medea did to get them to stay? Look what she did to Fakhri’s family—and to me. You can’t…”
I lowered my sword, my shoulders sagging. Maybe she was right. The concern on Sarah’s face lessened when I lowered the sword, though it didn’t disappear entirely. More importantly, her comment about Fakhri reminded me of the promise I’d made the girl. Right now that was more important.
I stood there for a second and then walked off to check on the Spartoi and remind the surviving squad members of our secondary objective of finding the Fawaz family. I would not leave without them. And meanwhile, I had to locate and recover the Cup and then figure out the best way to free Perses without getting my head ripped off, and I had to get the Ally-thingy chain back. Then I would decide what to do with these survivors.
Back along the far side of the dais, the Spartoi were gathering their dead and wounded. Only a few of Athena’s mercenaries were still alive, and only two were fully ambulatory. These creatures were soldiers, so while their injuries or deaths from helping me bothered me, the fact that they had done so honorably outweighed the guilt. Combat was the only life they knew or understood.
The most fit of the survivors was their leader, who had a nasty gash across his face that ran through his nose, nearly severing the tip. The cut was deep and gaping but bloodless, making it only slightly less gory than it appeared. These beings bore even the most intense pain with ease, marking injuries as badges of honor. To them, death and injury were as natural as eating and sleeping were to mundanes.
The warriors were tending the injuries of those who would live and helping to ease the passing of those who wouldn’t last much longer. Finally, they gave all their dead brethren the equivalent of last rites in a quick but respectful ceremony. All of it was done with the stoicism I’d expect from an emotionless creature whose life revolved around battle.
I could relate to their view of life more than I liked to admit, and I’d seen their post-battle ritual before. This time, the ritual reminded me of just how human I still was. My life was about more than fighting and death, even though that made up the bulk of it. For me, mortal combat served a purpose, a means to an end. I did what I did to protect humanity.
As I silently watched the warriors honor their fallen comrades, I thought of Sarah and realized that I hadn’t allowed myself to really care for anyone for nearly a thousand years because… well, just because. But it occurred to me that without a connection to other people and without caring for someone, I might as well just be one of the Spartoi—a hollow tin soldier.
When the Spartoi were finished, I reminded the squad leader that we still needed to locate the Fawaz family, alive or dead. He made a curt bow of his head and then rallied his men without hesitation to continue their mission.
Back behind the dais, Ab was helping Duma to his feet. Both were looking better, but Duma was still far from being able to move unassisted, and Ab moved slowly and deliberately but with determination. They argued about the Ifrit Ab had tackled and killed. When I walked up, they just stared at me and exhaled heavily with the corners of their mouths turned up in the barest hint of smiles. The expression was nearly identical for both, demonstrating the depth of their familial bond. I’d seen it too many times before.
“Um…” I tried to clear my throat and then turned away, catching sight of Perses as I did. “You got the pouch, Duma?” I asked, eager to change the subject.
“Yeah, on my belt,” he said, coughing. “But you’ll have to get it yourself.”
Ab grabbed the pouch from Duma’s belt and threw it to me, and I returned to Perses’s prone form. The Titan was quiet, as if asleep. His naked body was covered in dirt and soot and surrounded by rubble and a few dead bodies. There wasn’t going to be an easy way to do this. I started by kneeling next to the chain that held the giant’s feet, since it was out of range of his hands. I dug into the pouch and pulled a little of its contents out into my palm. It was an herb called raskovnik that resembled a four-leaf clover.
Raskovnik, or razkovniche, was a remarkable plant with the unique property of being able to unlock any lock, magical or otherwise. The problem was finding it. Basically, there were two methods: lock up turtle or hedgehog babies and wait for the mother to gather the herb to release its offspring—which seemed cruel and tricky—or chain up a maiden and have her walk through a field. If she came out the other side unchained, the herb was in that field.
Sarah had helped Duma find it for us, and I had no doubt I would hear about him surprising her with the undignified field task once this was all finished. I wasn’t looking forward to that conversation with her, but my options for opening the locks on Perses’s chain were limited—I could either use the herb or break the lock. Though my motives were unselfish enough, I didn’t want breaking it to be our only option, so we needed raskovnik, and Sarah had been our maiden fair.
I crushed the plant into my palm and sprinkled it into the keyhole. The lock snapped open with a resounding snick, and the Titan God of Destruction stirred only slightly.
“Perses, I’m trying to help you get free,” I said calmly, hoping to keep things from getting out of hand. This being was known for creating havoc—on the order of natural disasters—for kicks, and I was about to set him free. He just lay there, breathing steadily. I gave him a wide berth, now that his legs were free, and walked cautiously back up toward his head. His eyes were closed, and his face was peaceful enough, so I took out more of the herb and crushed it between my fingers, keeping a watchful eye on his face. I quietly crept toward the lock on the chain holding his arms, which were as long as I was tall and as broad as my torso. Being this close to the lock on his arms also put me within reach of the Pelian Spear. It had ended up by the chain after Duma’s wayward throw. I quickly but quietly kicked it out of the way to avoid the possibility of being skewered with it. It impacted the dais with a clank that echoed through the now quiet chamber. I squeezed my eyes closed and froze in my tracks.
I was well within Perses’s reach, but he didn’t move. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief, and as I opened my eyes, I saw him focused intently on me.
Oh, shit. “Relax, Perses,” I tried to say as soothingly as possible, holding my hands up, one palm out and the other holding the herb pinched between thumb and index finger. “I’m just trying to help you. I just want to set you free. This is raskovnik. It’ll open the lock.” I wiggled the hand holding the crushed herbs and kept my other hand up to show I was unarmed.
The giant’s softball-sized brown eyes just followed my movements as he breathed heavily through his mouth.
I slowly crept forward, holding my breath once I got close enough for him to either rip my head off or kill me with his stinky breath. I had no idea what the beings back in his realm ate, but it stank like week-old garbage and rotten fish mixed with Limburger cheese. It made my eyes water.
As gingerly and overtly as I
could, I ground the herb between my fingers, sprinkling it into the hole in the lock. Sure enough, as soon as the tumblers in the lock snapped open, Perses surged to his feet and howled loudly enough to rattle the cavern again. I dropped and tucked into a fetal position near his feet, half expecting to become a soccer ball.
Surprisingly, the Titan stepped over me to where I’d stabbed Medea and then approached the crater in the stage where Hecate had been. “Where is the lying bitch?” Perses screamed. He picked up the carcass of a Phonoi and threw it against the far wall with a wet thump that echoed across the cavern. His eyes tracked around the cavern then back to the crater, and he screamed in anger. “And where’s my daughter?”
I immediately got to my feet behind Perses, expecting to see Medea’s dead body. I had stabbed her right where he was standing. I had seen her dying. There was no way she could have survived. Someone had to have taken her body. I didn’t know if I was more confused or pissed. I felt sick.
“Medea was right there, I swear!” I shouted, holding up my hands in surrender. “But I sent your daughter back to your native realm.”
I bolted around Perses to pick up my spear and get on the dais, in case of further violence. The position also gave me a more elevated view of the cavern. Part of me was hopeful I might actually spot someone dragging Medea’s body off. Damn. Even in death, she was a sneaky bitch.
“Very well.” Perses watched me intently. We stood eye to eye now that I was on the elevated stone stage. “I am in your debt, Guardian.” With that, the Titan simply disappeared without as much as a sound.
I hopped down from the dais, walked back to my team behind it, and sat down heavily next to Ab and Duma with the Pelian Spear in hand. I practically fell over backward out of frustration, with the spear across my chest. The brothers just stood there, wide-eyed. Everyone gawked at me with equally astonished expressions.
Havoc Rising Page 34