Nasnas wore no clothes and the half-god’s bronze skin gave off a shining aura. The massive right arm, leg, and torso looked as though it had been chiseled from stone. The strong jaw and clean lines of the half face continued the theme of power. Rondel found himself jealous of what he saw, even knowing Nasnas’s curse.
I thought his presense was supposed to invoke terror? I feel his power, but I don’t know if I’d call myself scared.
The jealousy went away as Nasnas pivoted and exposed the full front of his body. Rondel’s eyes drifted down and up the creature, lingering in shock at the god’s crotch as he quickly verified that indeed everything had been sheered in half.
Missing a few fingertips isn’t so bad after all.
Nasnas pivoted once more, exposing the sheered side of his body as he took in the rest of his surroundings. The terror Rondel wondered about just moments before washed over him like the tide coming ashore.
Rondel had seen a dissected cadeaver before, but never had he witnessed bones moving, muscles flexing, and organs pumping air and fluids in such a manner. Fascination and fear prevented him from tearing his gaze away from the grotesque image. Knowing how Nasnas was forced to live, the half-god’s remaining power seemed even more special to him.
Gods, imagine if he was whole. Would I even be conscious right now?
Thankfully, Nasnas hid his sheered half once more as he gestured for Shadya to rise. He spoke in the guttural tongue filled with harsh consonants and only the occasional vowel. There were no pauses for Rondel to disseminate words. Everything came out in one long breath that reminded him of a shovel being scraped across stone.
Shadya replied back in the tongue Rondel heard her use with Athar and the other creatures that sought her guidance. He realized Nasnas probably spoke the same language, except Hubul’s son could not enunciate as easily with half a mouth and tongue.
Rondel tried to glean something from the conversation but it might as well have been dogs barking. The only thing he pieced together was that Nasnas seemed pleased with Shadya’s growing belly. She appeared five months along by human standards.
Rondel shuddered at his name being called. Shadya and Nasnas stared at him. He felt smaller, meaningless, under the deity’s eye.
“What?” he asked blankly.
“Come here,” said Shadya. “He wishes to speak with you.”
Rondel rose and shuffled over, consciously trying to remain upright under the heavy pressure of the fallen god’s presence. “I can’t speak the language you’ve been using.”
“It’s the first tongue. I’ll translate,” said Shadya.
Hubul’s son said something.
“He wishes to know if you’re ready for your role.”
Rondel stared at the ground. He found it less taxing than to meet Nasnas’s disfigured gaze when he spoke. “I still haven’t been told the specifics of my role, remember?”
Shadya translated. She and Nasnas exchanged words several times. He did not seem pleased.
She cleared her throat. “He wants me to tell you the details of the ritual.”
“I’m listening.”
“The mask you took from Hubul’s Host will be placed on an altar. Nasnas will lie on his belly, face in the mask. The baby will be placed next to him, also face down and head in the mask. Then we will provide some of your blood and mine to begin binding their flesh. Words will be spoken during this time. When all is finished, Nasnas will be whole once more. The flesh of the baby we created will meld with him and form his other half.”
Anger overcame the weight of being in Nasnas’s presence. “You can’t be serious.”
She nodded.
Rondel’s stomach rolled. Since discovering Shadya’s pregnancy and learning she was not a human, he hadn’t thought of his unborn child as anything other than an abomination. But now, he felt only rage that a helpless babe, regardless of what it was, would be used in such a way.
“I think I’m going to be sick again.” His eyes flicked to Nasnas. “I thought he came up with the ritual when creating the mask.”
“He did.”
His hands balled into fists. “And he couldn’t think of something less, I don’t know . . . complicated? Disgusting? Utterly and completely horrendous?”
Her face tensed. “The ritual was not originally so complicated. But when Hubul could not destroy the mask, he was able to make it so Nasnas could not regain his powers the way he had originally devised. This is the only choice because of Hubul.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“Are you questioning a god? Your future master?”
He found himself thinking about how Andrasta would handle herself if she was in this situation. She wouldn’t be cowering in fear, regardless of whose presence she was in and how much power she felt. Why should I?
“Why not? He can’t understand me. And technically he is a half-god, right? I mean that’s how this whole issue began. Him whining about being different.”
“You dare—”
“You got that right, I dare,” said Rondel, raising his voice. Thinking about Andrasta fueled his confidence.
Besides, when have I ever learned to keep my mouth shut?
He continued. “I can’t believe this is the only way to get his power back. I just think he’s not creative so he copied some bizarre ritual from another idiotic deity in another culture nearby. Everyone knows gods are big on the human sacrifice thing. Then he made sure to make the process really difficult by building it around an event that only occurs once every five hundred years.
“How inefficient is that? You know, I guess that if he was a full god like his old man, maybe he would have figured out a better way to bring about his return, but considering Hubul didn’t have the guts to kill his son, maybe the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.”
The more Rondel ranted, the more his anger swelled, forgetting completely about any terror he had when first entering Nasnas’s presence. Even the half-god’s power didn’t seem to weigh him down nearly as much as before. “And another thing. I know you might not be human, but you obviously aren’t a complete idiot. How can you or anyone else put your faith in someone that is no match for a strong gust of wind?”
Something crashed into the side of Rondel’s face. He flipped backward, rolling head over heels four or five times before stopping. On his hands and knees, blood dripped down into the back of his throat as it did over his lips from a busted nose. His vision swam and his head hummed in a high pitch that reminded him of a striking church bell.
Two heavy thuds sounded and giant blurry feet appeared in his line of sight. He blinked, helping his vision clear. Two feet became one again. His eyes crawled up Nasnas’s naked leg and paused at the massive hand at his hip. A drop of blood sat on the middle knuckle.
Rondel trembled as his fear of the god returned.
Nasnas spoke.
Shadya translated. “He said that next time you disrespect him, he will remove your tongue.”
“He understood me?” Rondel huffed.
“The translation was for your benefit and so he could judge how much trust to place in you.” She paused while Nasnas spoke again. “You are to remain bound as your participation in the ritual will obviously need to be forced.”
Well played. You’re smarter than I thought. At least by half, he added with a snicker, unable to help himself.
He choked on blood as he laughed, uncaring of any consequences.
What else can I do?
CHAPTER 19
“Wake up.”
A foot to the side woke Rondel. He rubbed his eyes and looked up at Athar standing above him. The still black sky remained as it had when he fell asleep. “What’s going on? It’s still nighttime.”
“Nasnas wishes to get an early start on the day’s travels. We will leave shortly. Get ready.”
“Hand me some water.”
Athar’s yellow eyes flared. “You think to give me orders, human scum?”
“Why not?” asked Rondel, sitt
ing up. After meeting a fallen god, being in the presence of a ghul no longer struck the same level of fear. “Everyone else does. You’re like a dog. Someone waves a treat over your nose and you do whatever trick is necessary to grab it.” He reached in his pocket. “Here. I still have a bit of dried horse from last night. Will that entice you to get me some water?”
Athar dove on top of him. Hands squeezed at his throat. Rondel tried to speak, but couldn’t even choke out a word.
Yet again, my mouth gets me in trouble.
“You are either very brave or very foolish to speak to me like that. Considering your situation, I believe it’s the latter.”
“Athar!”
Athar sprang off him. He gasped for air. Athar and Shadya exchanged harsh words in the first tongue while the ghul prostrated himself.
Eventually, she turned and left. Hand at his throat, rubbing the soreness, Rondel noticed the lustful gaze in Athar’s eyes as he watched Shadya walk away.
Despite the pain in his dry throat, Rondel chuckled. He had cowered too long in prison from the abuse of the guards. He had gone through too much since to do so again. “I know that look. You wish to bed her, don’t you? But all she sees is the dog you are. And you know it. That’s why you’re still on your knees now.” He threw the piece of dried horse at Athar. “Here. Maybe a treat will make you feel better. Go on. Be a good boy and take it.”
Athar spun, venom in his eyes. “The only thing saving you is the ritual. When that is done, I will eat your insides while you’re still alive to watch.”
“Are you sure about that? I’ll be the father or rather, half-father of your master. Who’s to say that it won’t be me dining on you, dog.”
Athar’s mouth extended out into a hyena. Fangs dripped saliva as a thick tongue fell out. “Care to make a wager on that?”
Rondel thought of Nasnas’s reaction toward him the night before.
Not really.
“Kiss your mother with that mouth?” he responded. “Actually, do you even know your mother? Is she off spreading her legs for every animal in a ten mile radius, changing shape as needed to whore herself out.”
Athar leaped to his feet, growling.
All right Rondel. That might have been a bit too much.
“Athar!” Shadya shouted again. “Now.”
Athar’s long tongue licked black, hyena-like lips. The creature smiled and left.
I hope I’m tough and stringy and you choke on me, you piece of garbage.
* * *
Andrasta flipped her blade up and stepped to the right, avoiding the blow from her opponent. She put little into the effort. Qasim stumbled from a small depression in the sand, failing once again to complete even the first movement of the twenty-first form.
Whispers of disapproval at Qasim’s performance from those of the Host standing around the practice circle floated through the cooling night air. Their whispers echoed off nearby boulders of red and orange sandstone that surrounded the watering hole they stopped at to make camp.
“Again,” she said. “This time shorten your step.”
“I already did,” mumbled Qasim under his breath as he moved back into his starting position.
“What was that?”
His mouth formed into a sneer. “I’m ready to begin.”
“Are you? You said you were ready last time and you made the same mistake.”
Qasim grit his teeth, eyes flitting to the men around him. “I said I’m ready.”
During the first week of training, her victory over Omar had carried a great deal of weight with the rest of the Host. However, any awe or respect earned came to a halt as most could not get past the idea of a woman, no matter how talented, teaching them how to use a sword.
Already I must do this again.
“Then why do you continue to fail in doing what I ask?”
“You dare mock me, wh . . .” He cleared his throat. “Woman.”
She tensed at the near insult. “I don’t mock. Why can’t you succeed in using the form?”
“Because you know it’s coming,” he spat.
“Fine. I will attack you in the same manner. Ready yourself.”
“With pleasure.”
Andrasta swept her blade up, knocking Qasim’s aside. She stepped forward and brought the hilt of her sword down on the man’s wrist in one motion, knocking loose the weapon. It fell and he yelped. Her free hand grabbed his wrist, twisted, and spun him around. The edge of her blade lay across his throat, while she pushed into the small of his back.
“You knew what move I was going to use, yet you couldn’t stop me. Why?”
“You performed the form without flaw,” he grunted.
“What else?”
“You moved faster than me.”
“And how does one perform a move flawlessly and with speed.”
“Practice.”
She released him. “The very thing I’m trying to get you and everyone else to do,” she said, throwing looks at the others. “You won’t be perfect in these forms in the short amount of time we have. However, if you improve only a little, it could mean the difference between living and dying.” She paused. “The difference between honoring Hubul and failing him.”
Heads bowed.
That’s the real motivator.
“There was one other reason why I succeeded against Qasim. Did anyone catch it?”
“You changed the form. Your footwork was different at the end. As well as the choice of a wrist lock,” said a voice from the back.
People parted, revealing a taller figure.
Omar.
“And why did I make the changes?” asked Andrasta.
“Because your opponent gave you the opening. Only an amateur tries to force a move where there is none. That’s a basic lesson. Something everyone here knows,” Omar looked at the others with scolding eyes. “You’re all letting your desire to show up Andrasta cloud your ability to think clearly. A mistake I also made.”
Andrasta tried not to show her surprise at the admission, but doubted she had succeeded.
“It’s late,” she said after gathering herself. “I’ll see everyone at dawn for morning drills.”
Everyone left for either their turn on watch or to grab some sleep. Omar stayed behind.
“Thank you for saying that,” she said after a moment.
The man walked closer and shrugged. “It was the truth. Though I hate to admit it, I do see Melek’s point in what you offer us. And it is important that we don’t fail Hubul. However, don’t think that I’m offering an olive branch. When this is over, we will fight again. And when we do, I’ll embarrass you.”
“Why not fight again now?”
Omar grinned. “Because I haven’t finished learning all your moves yet.”
He spun and walked away.
You never will.
An inhuman scream ripped through the night, something that fell between a dying hyena and a pouncing lion.
What was that?
Shouts from men followed, some in panic, others in anger.
Andrasta spun in the direction of the chaos. Dozens of figures entered camp, some bounding on four legs, others on two. They attacked, pouncing at of the Host within striking distance.
She sprinted toward the confusion.
Three members of the Host already lay dead as she reached the fighting. One man writhed on the ground, free hand grasping at the hole in his abdomen while he swung his sword wildly to fend off a circling hyena twice the size of a normal creature.
Ghuls.
The hyena avoided the sword stroke and dove at the soldier, ripping out his throat. Blood took to the air.
Andrasta leaped at the creature. Her blade entered the ghul’s upper back. The ghul gasped and spoke in the strange, guttural language she had heard before. Black sludge bubbled out of the wound as Andrasta withdrew her blade. It looked at her with wide, yellow eyes, shocked at her arrival. It opened its mouth and made a half-hearted attempt to lunge. Her sword slid d
own its open maw, blade scraping teeth.
The ghul shuddered and died.
She wheeled. Melek and Omar rallied groups of men to them. Working in units, they felled several of the creatures. A crack of blue lightning flitted across the sky, striking down like a bowing tree branch. It turned two ghuls into blackened husks.
Khalil stood with arms raised behind Melek’s lines readying another spell.
She nearly ran over to join one of the groups as they methodically disposed of the ghuls, some of which had shifted into former Host members recently chewed on. However, a call for help sounded to her right.
Over a hundred feet away, Qasim and another man fought side-by-side, backs against a small rock face as three hyenas surrounded them. Another beast feasted on a dead man.
She ran toward them, drawing her dagger in midstride. She yelled to draw their attention. The one eating looked up from the chest cavity it gnawed. It changed form quickly, melting away the image of the hyena and becoming the man dead at its feet. It picked up the man’s sword and grunted something in its strange tongue. One of the other three beasts joined in attacking Andrasta.
The ghul in hyena form pounced at Andrasta’s legs. She jumped and swiped her sword down. Her blade scraped ribs.
It howled.
The other’s sword whooshed toward her head. Her dagger came up, catching the swing. Though Relian steel did not break, her wrist hurt while deflecting the ghul’s heavy blow.
The swordsmen swung toward her midsection two-handed. She managed to deflect the attack. However, her awkward position sent her stumbling.
A low growl warned her of danger. She fell rather than fight for balance and rolled as she hit the ground. The sound of a snapping jaw clacked by her ear.
She rolled and stood. The swordsmen met her with a deep lunge. She sidestepped the blow, but rather than countering, swept her sword toward the circling hyena to keep it at bay. She noticed that the ghul who had taken human form had not aligned his shoulders properly, following the bad habit of the man whose form it had taken.
So, they take on their fighting styles, and weaknesses.
She avoided the bloody jaws of the hyena while positioning herself to encourage another oddly executed thrust from the other ghul. He responded as she expected. Stepping in, she rammed her dagger up under the ghul’s chin until the hilt struck bone.
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