She closed and barricaded the door while Zaid took out a piece of charcoal from his shirt and frantically drew wards on not only the door, but also the walls and floor around it.
“These should not only confuse them, but also stop them from hearing or smelling us.”
Andrasta stepped back to let the man work. Her gaze drifted over the surviving members of her unit. Zaid bore shallow cuts on his shoulder and chest. Yousef carried a deeper wound on his upper arm that dribbled blood. Qasim held his side. She sheathed her blade without cleaning it and examined Qasim first.
Something had punctured his side just below the rib cage between the plates of his lamellar armor. She stuffed the wound with bandages while Qasim grit his teeth. The young warrior’s face had begun to lose color.
When the sorcerer stepped away, she gestured for him to look over Qasim’s wounds first, but healing was not his strength. What little he knew did Yousef more good instead.
A commotion outside drew her attention. Despite Zaid’s wards, she held up a hand for silence.
Peering out of a tiny crack between the frame and door, the pattering of countless feet and paws preceded a horde of ghuls in various forms rounding a corner. They charged down the road and came to a screeching halt just before reaching the six-way intersection. Those in hyena form sniffed the air. The ones in human guise scanned the area. In moments, the ghuls began arguing with each other about which way to go. Unable to reach a consensus, they broke off in smaller groups, each taking a different road.
She waited until all were out of sight before turning. Zaid was once again at work on Qasim, trying to create a new ward to compensate for his lack of healing knowledge.
“How is everyone?” she asked in a whisper.
“We’ll survive,” the sorcerer said wearily. “Though we’ll likely have to move slower because of Qasim’s injury. I can only do so much. I’m afraid I don’t have Khalil’s skills.”
“Don’t worry about me,” said Qasim. “The bleeding stopped. That’s more than enough. If I die, then so be it. I won’t be the reason we fail Hubul.”
She took a look at his pale face and nodded.
“All right then. Let’s move.”
She removed the barricade and slowly opened the door. With her first step outside, a ghul in its natural gray form descended from above and landed in the middle of her path. Its long claws clacked against stone.
The blasted thing managed to cling to solid stone. It guessed we were still here.
The ghul screeched, lashing out at Andrasta. She managed to sidestep the strike and shear off the beast’s left arm at the elbow. A backswing took off its head.
The city erupted as every ghul in the immediate area responded to the creature’s call.
She swore and took off in a sprint with her men at her heels, hoping to put some distance between them and their victim before others tracked them.
* * *
Rondel dabbed a dry cloth against Shadya’s forehead, gently wiping away sweat. His gut wrenched at her pain, his chest tightened with a familiar ache, one that was not brought on by an amulet or ward. Watching the woman struggle under the stresses of labor, he no longer doubted or fought against his feelings for her.
This is real. Gods, and I still don’t even know what she really is.
Shadya relaxed as the contraction passed. She looked up at him with dark eyes. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze rather than the bone-crushing grip of earlier. “Thank you, my love,” she whispered. “I knew you’d come back to me.”
Rondel heard something there he hadn’t before, perhaps, didn’t want to see before.
She really means it.
He squeezed her hand back, not trusting what he might say should he open his mouth.
Does it matter what she is? We’re having a child together. What could we possibly deal with more taboo than that? Besides, she never shied away from me. In fact, it seems that she specifically chose me, a less-than-perfect human.
Shadya’s breathing increased. He rubbed her arm. Anticipating the next contraction, he placed a stone in her hand to squeeze.
“You’re doing good,” he whispered. “Keep taking them one at a time.”
* * *
Melek heaved up the contents of his stomach. His embarrassment for having done so waned when two others in his unit joined him in response to the overwhelming sulfuric smell.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then immediately wished he hadn’t. He spat profusely, trying to get the taste of ghul blood off his lips. He straightened and surveyed the carnage around him. Fire had blackened the outer walls of the homes as well as the street, which held an assortment of gore. Thick sludge, purplish entrails, and gray limbs, were all that remained of the horde of ghuls.
He lost two men in the confrontation.
Without Khalil, we’d all be dead.
The old sorcerer leaned against a nearby wall, his hands on his knees. Blackish blood from the ghuls flecked Khalil’s salt and pepper beard. A third of its length had been singed by fire. Scorch marks adorned the fringes of his outer garments.
And we haven’t even faced Nasnas yet.
He looked back to the other two men in his unit. “Any major injuries?”
Heads shook. “No, Captain.”
“Good. Ready yourselves.”
Melek walked to Khalil.
The sorcerer grinned. “That was interesting.”
“To put it lightly. I didn’t know you could protect us like that from such heat.”
Khalil pushed himself off the wall. “Neither did I. Of course, I never had need to. Who ever heard of djinns and ghuls fighting side-by-side before?”
“How did you kill the djinns?” asked Melek. “I thought it was impossible unless you knew their true name.”
“It is.”
“Did you trap them? I don’t see any containers.”
“No.”
“Are you going to tell me?”
“Eventually. I’m just stalling to catch my breath.”
Melek smiled. “That only means we’ll need to run all the harder to make up for lost time.”
Khalil sighed. “True. Really, all I did was get the djinns mad at each other. You take creatures that arrogant and start making them question who’s the best, well it’s only natural they’ll pit their skills against each other. Apparently, only we can’t kill them without their true names, because they didn’t have any problem killing each other. Right before they burned out, I put a shield over us as best as I could.”
Melek grunted. “You never cease to amaze me.”
“Let’s see if I can continue that trend.”
“You’re ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
* * *
“Keep her still!” hissed Athar.
Rondel gave him a look that could curdle milk. “I’m doing my best.”
Reluctantly, Rondel had resorted to asking the ghul for help. Shadya wouldn’t let Rondel leave her side which meant Athar had to help coach her as the child worked its way through the birth canal. He cringed every time Athar touched Shadya, but even he had to admit that the creature seemed to know what he was doing.
“Do better. I need to turn the baby.”
He leaned down and whispered into Shadya’s ear. “You’re doing great, but I need you to be still so Athar can do what’s needed.”
“It’s so hard,” she huffed.
“I know. Just a little longer. Then you’ll be able to see our . . . child.”
Gods, I never called him that before. At least not out loud. Always, the “abomination,” or “it.” Nothing so possessive.
He stroked Shadya’s cheek. Do I really care about this baby? She smiled at him through tear-filled eyes as she fought against the pain.
He had his answer.
Now to find a way to convince Shadya not to go through with the ritual.
She wailed as Athar lifted her pelvis off the
ground.
“Gods, what are you doing?” yelled Rondel.
“It’s done,” said Athar, removing his hand. “Though the birthing will still be difficult. The child is big.”
Thuds sounded from behind.
Nasnas. Talk about poor timing. How can I talk to her now?
Athar stood. “I’ll be right back.” He walked toward the thudding.
“Do you hear that Rondel?” Shadya whispered after Athar left. “We made a big one.”
He leaned in. “I know.” His mouth felt full of sand as he tried to find the words to begin telling her how he felt for her and their child.
“I can’t do it,” she said.
“Sure you can. You’re doing great.”
“No. That’s not what I meant. I-I can’t give our child to him.”
“What?”
“I was already having doubts. It’s different to say you’ll do something than actually going through with it once you feel your child growing inside of you. Even still, I thought I had convinced myself that it would be worth it for all the good Nasnas would accomplish.”
“But something happened.”
“Yes. When Nasnas returned with his injury—”
“When he struck you.”
She nodded. “He said things, things I thought were said in anger or frustration but the more I’ve thought about them, the more I realize he exposed himself, revealing the lies he has been telling me for millennia. I was led to believe all this time that our child would be an empty vessel due to the ritual.”
“And the soul?”
“It would immediately be exalted to heaven without any suffering.”
“But that’s not true, is it?”
“No. When he wasn’t looking I studied the Mask of Halves in more detail. All this time, I’ve missed something staring at me in the face because I didn’t want to believe the truth. He needs our child’s soul to complete the ritual. And as long as Nasnas lives, our child’s soul will be trapped inside his body. I’ve been a fool. I no longer want Nasnas to succeed. I don’t want to lose our child.”
Rondel took her hand. “I don’t want to lose either of you.”
She wiped her eyes. “Then what do we do?”
Rondel opened his mouth, then quickly closed it.
I’ve no clue.
He opened his mouth again, hoping something intelligent might pop out, but an approaching thud cut him off.
* * *
Melek limped his way out of the packed streets toward the great stone pillars that formed a spiral at the city’s center. The rest of his battered squad trailed behind. Bright-red light from the crown constellation shone down from the heavens so that the spiral resembled a monument from hell.
And now the real test begins.
They neared the outer pillars and Melek’s heart sank. Not a single person of the Host waited. Additionally, no sound of fighting could be heard nearby. He stopped and hid some fifty yards from the entrance near an old well. He glanced to Khalil. The sorcerer looked as worried as he felt.
Why does this have to be so difficult? He paused. And where is Andrasta?
High-pitched moans of pain sounded from within the spiral.
“Do we go in now, Captain?” one of the men in his squads whispered.
“Not yet.”
Another low groan echoed in the night. “It sounds like a woman in labor. The longer we wait, the more time Hubul’s son has to perform the ritual,” said Khalil.
Yet if we run in and die before others come, then they too will also be shorthanded.
A flicker of movement came to his right. Andrasta and two others entered the open space that led to the pillars. He signaled them over.
They took worse losses than we did.
Omar and four other survivors appeared from a different location a moment afterward.
He raised an eyebrow at Khalil.
The sorcerer bowed his head, squeezing his eyes tight. After several moments he opened them. His jaw tensed. “We shouldn’t expect the others.”
Dead. We only take twelve against Nasnas.
Omar and Andrasta both opened their mouths to speak. Melek raised his hands for silence. He turned to Khalil. “Perform a quick healing.”
“I thought you wanted me to save myself.”
“I’m not saying we have to be in perfect health, but you’ll not reach Hubul’s son without us, and we could all use a brief reprieve from the worst of our wounds.”
Khalil closed his eyes.
* * *
Rondel turned as Nasnas landed beside them. He was careful to position himself so he would not have to look upon the grotesque features of its sheared half. Cuts, bruises, and what looked like a small burn littered the half-god’s bronze skin.
Intense fighting rang out nearby. Hope coursed through his veins. They’re close. If the Host makes it through soon, maybe I can slip away with Shadya and our child in the confusion.
“Having a bit of trouble in the city, I see,” said Rondel, unable to hide his disdain.
A backhand sent him sailing. Shadya shouted “No!” as he crashed to the ground. A painful jolt went up his leg. Air left his lungs.
He sat up slowly, head ringing.
Once again, I can’t keep my mouth shut.
Nasnas drew a sword from Athar’s waist. Strange silver symbols danced across the blade in the red light. Wards?
Shadya begged Nasnas not to do it.
Do what?
Nasnas answered in the guttural first tongue. Rondel thought he picked up something about him “running out of time.”
Shadya’s begging turned into foul curses.
The half-god handed the sword to Athar. The ghul plunged the blade into Shadya’s stomach.
Rondel screamed with Shadya. He tried to rise, but his leg gave out.
He crawled quickly toward the mother of his child as Athar carved into her and yanked out their gore-smeared son.
Shadya convulsed. Her arm reached up and sobbed. “You killed him.”
“It doesn’t matter. The soul won’t leave the body for some time,” said Athar.
Nasnas pointed in Rondel’s direction and spoke. Athar nodded. Nasnas hopped over to the altar and lowered himself face down in the crevice where the mask already lay. Athar approached Rondel, sword still drawn. The ghul wore a smile.
Hot tears ran down Rondel’s face.
“I’m going to kill you for that.” He stared at the limp form of his son.
He looks human.
“You’re welcome to try.” Athar’s blade sliced into Rondel’s shoulder. He wiped the blade across the torso of Rondel’s son.
“What are you doing?” Rondel asked.
“We need your blood for the ritual.”
Rondel tilted his head in confusion.
Athar laughed while backing away. “You thought you would be sacrificed? No. We don’t need much. I could kill you now, but Nasnas said that you’re mine after his transformation. And I prefer eating my meals when they’re fresh.”
* * *
Andrasta entered the ruby-lit, spiraling pillars, not happy about the sandstone wall that bordered the outside of each layer.
A gateway into hell.
Melek took point. She moved a step behind him, eyes darting, ears straining. She heard nothing of the enemy except faint voices from deeper inside. The voices sounded nothing like the hellish screams they just heard. One of those voices had sounded like Rondel.
Is he dead?
She winced, fighting back a budding instinct to charge in so she might take Nasnas down herself.
He will not best me again.
Melek paused. A faint scratching against stone had pierced the even breathing and padding footsteps of the Host. Andrasta shifted her weight.
Melek raised a hand and the others halted.
He edged his foot forward slowly. A low growl sounded just ahead at the curve in the path. “Tighten up!” he shouted as ghuls swarmed toward them.
Andrasta stepped beside Melek. Eight more flanked them. With about a foot of space separating each of the ten fighters, they covered the width of the path. Khalil and Zaid remained at the rear casting spells.
A shimmer in the air rippled toward the enemy, striking the ghuls before they engaged the host. Their eyes danced in confusion. The creatures struggled to stay on their feet and some even failed to maintain the forms taken for the fight.
The Host attacked, slicing, slashing, and thrusting methodically. The enemy fell in droves. Yet, they continued to come, growing more and more lucid as fresher beasts rushed into the fray.
The spell is wearing off.
Reading her thoughts, Melek shouted out as his sword swept down into the collarbone of his opponent. “They’re coming around, Khalil.”
“There’s something pushing against us that we can’t see.”
“Nasnas?”
“Something else.”
Melek muttered curses.
When the confusion spell failed, the mass of ghuls pressed forward. The Host’s small line buckled against the weight of the attack. They lost a man while taking several steps back in retreat, trampling the mutilated bodies of ghuls killed moments before. Fighting in such tight confines, Andrasta took to using her fists to gain enough separation to finish her opponents with her sword.
Flames licked out from behind her. Fire struck the ghuls in the second ranks and beyond. Melek took advantage of the ghuls’ pain and urged them forward. Andrasta followed, as did the rest of the Host.
Disbelief flashed in the eyes of the enemy as they tried to reconcile how a small group could gain ground against them.
One of the larger ghuls farther back in the ranks, a half-hyena, half-man hybrid, climbed atop several of its brethren and howled. Some sort of guttural communication came from inside the spiral.
Satisfied with the response, the large ghul leaped back into the fray, pushing his way to the front.
That can’t be good.
Andrasta finished off her opponent with a slash to the throat, then went after the hybrid ghul that had given the signal as he neared her position. Her blade raked across the creature’s torso, scraping ribs and penetrating belly. The edge of the sword came to a grinding halt at the ghul’s hip bone. Sludgy, gray blood and black intestines spilled out of the gaping wound. The beast cried out in agony and crashed to the ground.
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