He’s still alive, but hurt badly.
Her heart beat faster as she moved toward him. More ghuls stepped into her path.
* * *
Rondel blinked his eyes with chaos all around him. His mind cleared when he heard someone shouting his name.
He tried to sit up, but a bout of dizziness took him. He fell to his elbows. Blood trickled down his busted nose.
Gods, I must really be hurt this time. I could have sworn I heard Andrasta’s voice.
He looked at the wards on his hands in confusion.
They didn’t work. Why? Did she make a mistake? He rubbed at the wards. Beneath Shadya’s dried blood, the patterns stained his hands. Or did I not understand what she meant?
“Rondel!”
Rondel lifted his head. Dizziness washed over him again. Bile crept into his throat.
Another concussion? It’s amazing I even remember my name. Wait. That was Andrasta.
His spirit lifted as the dizziness faded. Andrasta’s statuesque form took off the front limbs of a hyena-shaped ghul.
She is alive!
Her eyes met his and then flicked to the right. He followed her gaze.
Nasnas stood beside the altar. Balanced on one leg, he still wore the Mask of Halves. No longer was he half a man. The left side of his body had begun to incorporate what had been his son. The half-god redirected a beam of red light through its outstretched palm. It hurtled toward an older member of the Host, but struck an invisible barrier with an echoing thud that rang Rondel’s ears.
The old man stood his ground against the initial impact, but then went to his knees. It seemed as though the two had been fighting for some time. Someone shouted the name “Khalil!” in desperation. A man attempted to aid the sorcerer, but was cut off by ghuls.
Andrasta sliced through the chest of a large hyena. She stepped toward Nasnas when another of the beasts tackled her from behind. Rondel moved to help, but stopped.
“Forget about me. Get Nasnas!” she shouted.
Rondel opened his mouth to protest. He thought he had lost Andrasta once. He wouldn’t allow it to happen again.
A pained scream came from the old sorcerer.
The red beam from Nasnas had grown wider and brighter. Rondel noticed the newer side of the fallen god’s body had continued to grow in the few short moments that had passed.
He’s getting stronger.
The old sorcerer’s defenses gave way and the man disintegrated. Shouts from other Host members joined the death throes of the old man.
He thought about what Shadya had told him.
While Nasnas lives, the soul of our son suffers.
Anger cleared his mind.
He half ran, half hobbled toward Nasnas. The god faced him and casually raised a hand. The same beam of red light raced toward him. He raised his own hands in defense. The attack dissipated.
What? No pain. How am I even alive?
Nasnas looked at his hand in what Rondel imagined was confusion. The god attacked again. Then again. Rondel defended each assault.
A mild warmth permeated through his hands and into his lower arms. Rondel smiled, remembering what Shadya had told him.
She must have meant that these wards only work on him.
He didn’t know how Shadya had created wards powerful enough to have any affect over a god, but he didn’t care.
He ran at Nasnas while he hopped backward, continually trying to blast Rondel.
Rondel leaped. With arms extended, he struck the god’s chest with his palm. They both fell, Rondel on top.
He ignored the god’s gruesome half that melded with the body of his son and swung his fists wildly at Nasnas’s adult form, striking the god in the chest, neck, and masked face. Nasnas grunted beneath each blow.
Nasnas made an effort to push him off with his strong hand while swinging wildly with the growing arm of his new half. Rondel caught the strong arm with his hand, causing the golden skin of Nasnas to sear. He moved up so that his knee pinned the forming arm to the ground.
The god cried out.
Rondel laid his free hand on the god’s chest. The smell of burned flesh rose up. Something so sickening, never smelled so sweet. He looked at the Mask of Halves and saw Nasnas’s one eye clenched shut in pain.
Rondel moved his hand from Nasnas’s chest to the lip of the mask. He began to pry, but it seemed as though it had been glued to the god’s face. He yanked harder. Nasnas bellowed in anguish, speaking to Rondel in the first language while trying to fight back.
The god bucked his torso. Still, Rondel pulled.
Nasnas finally freed his hand from Rondel’s grasp and managed to strike him in the shoulder. Something popped at the joint as Rondel went flying again. The mutilated body of a ghul broke his fall.
Nasnas pulled himself up to his foot as the limbs on the other half of his body flailed. The god’s balance was off as his first hop toward Rondel ended with him dropping to a knee.
Rondel began to chuckle at the sight, delirious with exhaustion and pain. The torn skin of Nasnas’s face made him laugh harder. “I bet that hurt, didn’t it.” He raised his hand which still clutched the Mask of Halves. “Is this what you have your eye on? Do you need a hand getting back to your foot?”
“Give it to me!” Nasnas bellowed, using the Erban tongue for the first time.
The power in the god’s words beat against Rondel like a whirlwind. Still, any fear he had once felt for Nasnas left at Shadya’s death. Only anger remained. Rondel spat. “Come and get it! You know what happens when I touch you.”
“No one said I needed to get close.” The god grabbed a nearby sword by the blade, holding it like a throwing knife. He pulled his massive arm back.
Crap. He’s got me there.
A blur came in from the side. Nasnas screamed as his leg buckled from the longsword embedded in his thigh. Andrasta shouldered into the god while ripping her weapon free. Nasnas fell, losing his grip on his sword.
The second the god struck the ground, three men dove on top, hacking, slashing, and stabbing with desperation. Nasnas tried to fight, but was already too weak from his struggle with Rondel. A moment later, the god went still as one of the men who wore a full moon on his sleeves, came up with the god’s severed head. He gave orders to his men and they began butchering Nasnas into small pieces.
“I did it,” he whispered. “Our son’s soul is free.”
Andrasta shuffled toward him. She had scrapes up and down her arms and legs where armor and clothes had torn away. Claw marks adorned her shoulder and neck. Sweat and sand coated everything including her face. The braids in her hair were frayed and half undone.
“You look like hell,” said Rondel.
“You think you’re any better?”
He glanced down at his own clothes, felt all his wounds, and realized he still lay on top of the dead ghul that had cushioned his fall. It was a headless Athar. I hope it wasn’t too fast of a death.
“Probably not.” He nodded to the three Host members piecing out Nasnas. “Glad they’re being so thorough.”
He raised a hand and Andrasta helped him up.
“It’s the fulfillment of a lifelong purpose.” She glanced at the mask. “They’ll want to destroy that too, I’d guess.”
Rondel let it fall from his hand. “They can have it. I take it by the fact you’re still alive that you managed to work out some sort of agreement with them.”
“Something like that. It’s a long story. We have a lot to catch up on.”
He walked to Shadya’s body. Andrasta followed. He knelt at the woman’s side and closed her eyes. He wrapped her body slowly in clothes he pulled from their packs.
“What happened?” Andrasta asked. He heard the confusion in her voice.
“Later. Right now, I just need time with my thoughts.”
“I understand.”
Rondel went to place his arms under Shadya so he could lift her, but his shoulder and leg both gave out. He swore and tears ran dow
n his cheeks.
Andrasta gently moved him aside, bent down, and lifted Shadya. “Where do you want her moved?”
Rondel cleared his throat, and pointed. “Over there away from all the other bodies.”
Andrasta carried Shadya to a spot at the edge of the inner layer of the spiral and set her down carefully. She grabbed a couple of scimitars used by fallen ghuls and handed him one. Silently, the two began to dig.
After some time, Rondel paused, waiting for Andrasta to do the same. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her lest his eyes begin to well again. The loss of Shadya and his son was bad enough, but knowing what he still had in Andrasta nearly sent him over the edge. “Thank you. I—”
Her calloused hand reached out and patted the top of his. She gave it a squeeze and continued digging. A moment later he joined her.
CHAPTER 25
Melek woke to a rising sun and a heavy heart. Two days had passed since he had led his men in the fulfillment of a mission that spanned generations.
Hubul’s son was no more and the few ghuls to escape the battle were too weak to be any threat.
He and two others were the only members of the Host to survive the struggle. They had destroyed Nasnas’s body with fire after hacking it to pieces, burning it with wood gathered from abandoned homes throughout the City of Pillars. After that, they set to burying their fallen brethren. He hadn’t asked for help in doing so, but he was thankful nonetheless for Andrasta and Rondel’s aid.
Melek watched the early morning glow illuminate the ancient city.
The most beautiful graveyard in the world. I wonder what will become of it.
Before retiring the night before, Melek had searched the Host’s annals for answers to questions he had never thought to ask. One was “What would happen to the city now that Hubul’s curse had been lifted?” He found no answer.
Perhaps it will be inhabited once again, erasing the sins of those who came before.
The surest sign that such a scenario was possible occurred the day after the battle when he discovered small shoots of grass growing in the cracks between the road’s cobbles. Melek took it as a sign that Hubul would finally remove the blight of the Empty-Hand Desert from Erba and return the land to glory.
Then why am I not elated?
Melek knew that answer with certainty. In his search through the annals, he also failed to find the answer to another more selfish question.
What happens to us? No one even knows what happened here except for us five. Would anyone believe it? He looked around. The City of Pillars has been revealed. Why wouldn’t they?
He sighed.
Melek didn’t need much, but a simple thank you from Hubul didn’t seem like too large a request. In fact, it seemed like a small thing when he considered his entire life had been dedicated to the father of the gods.
Yet, only silence descended from above.
Turning his attention to the rows of piled dirt, graves marked with scimitars thrust into the ground at the head of each mound. The silence tasted bitter.
He walked to Khalil’s grave. The old sorcerer’s death had been the hardest to stomach.
“I wish you were still here,” he said in a whisper. “Maybe your presence would soften the blow of the Host’s state. Maybe you could ease my angry heart.”
Soft crunching sounded. A shift of the wind brought a familiar scent. Andrasta came up beside him. The woman still wore signs of battle, dried blood and caked dirt except where fresh bandages had been applied.
And still she catches my eye.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” she said.
“No.”
“He seemed a good man.” Her gaze drifted over the graves. “They all did.”
“They were.”
I hope you remember that, Hubul, and reward them in the afterlife.
Silence stretched.
Melek broke it, remembering something he had discovered in the annals. “I looked into the wards on your friend’s hands.”
“Oh?”
“I think they contained the true name of Hubul’s son.”
“I thought that had been erased from memory.”
“I thought so too.”
“Then how could Shadya have had it?”
“Remember how I told you there were rumors that certain gods had joined Nasnas. One rumor said that a sibling had been the one to lead Nasnas into Hubul’s throne room where the fighting first began. The language is ambiguous and most men assumed it to be a brother. But reading it again, there are references that seem to hint that it could have been a daughter who was banished after the City of Pillars fell as well. It would explain how and why Shadya managed to survive so long and why no one knew exactly what she was. It also explains her skills with wards and why her powers always grew with the alignment of the heavens. I imagine her former godhood allowed her to somehow remember the true name of her brother.” He sighed. “If Khalil was here, he’d probably be able to confirm my suspicion, but . . . .”
“So, another fallen god.”
“I believe so.”
“Then why did Shadya hurt Nasnas at the very end when she had spent lifetimes trying to help him.”
He shrugged. “Your friend might know that answer. Probably because Nasnas deceived her like he had so many others and she only now discovered the truth.” He paused. “Rondel may have also had a hand in swaying her opinion.”
Andrasta shook her head. “Only Rondel could manage to count a god among his list of lovers.” She cleared her throat. “What will you do now that your mission is over?”
Melek smiled. “I’ve been trying to work that out. The others would like to ride north near Bint, far away from this place and its awful memories. I’m inclined to agree. There are several small towns along Erba’s borders that would be nice places to begin a new life. Maybe even a peaceful one.” He stared at the graves, and added. “I think I’d like that.”
“A good decision.”
Melek regarded Andrasta. Despite looking a mess, he had the surprising urge to make her his. He repressed a snort at the thought of the hell she had rained down on the enemy in the brief time she’d been with the Host.
There is no making her into anything.
“Why are you smiling?” she asked.
“I was just thinking that I’d like you to come with me. But, I don’t think you would.”
Andrasta’s dark skin actually reddened as she turned away from him. “No. I haven’t accomplished the things I’ve set out to do.”
“Then you must continue. Perhaps one day—” he stopped before finishing the statement, knowing that day would never come.
Andrasta grabbed Melek and pulled him into her. One of her hands went to the back of his head, the other wrapped around his waist. Their lips met roughly, opening and closing. Recovering from the shock, Melek’s arms came around her.
It was Andrasta who broke away first, gently separating herself from him. They breathed heavily.
She kissed him once more, softly this time, lips barely touching. He watched her walk away, savoring her taste on his tongue.
It was bittersweet.
* * *
Andrasta steadied her breathing, forcing herself not to look back at Melek as she walked away. Her reaction to Melek’s comments had surprised her as much as it obviously had him, but once she began to kiss him she hadn’t wanted to stop.
Regret tugged at her.
He had been the first person besides Rondel to look at and treat her differently, not as someone lesser, and not just as someone to bed.
She sighed, remembering past promises to herself and to others. She had too many things she not only wanted to do, but needed to do, before she’d be ready for a life like that with another.
And by then he’ll have found someone new.
Andrasta put away feeling sorry for herself as she approached Rondel. Her partner kneeled at Shadya’s gravesite.
She stopped beside him and waited. Hoofbeats sounded b
ehind as Melek rode off.
Rondel touched the mound of dirt with his hand, then stood. He nodded toward the retreating horses. “I’m surprised you didn’t go with them.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I saw the end of your conversation with him. I’ve never seen you say good-bye like that before.”
She grinned. “I’ve never wanted to.”
“I don’t guess you’re ever going to tell me about what I missed there.”
She opened her mouth, ready to tell him no, but stopped. Remembering how Rondel had opened up to Shadya when on the road and how she had never really done so with him, she pushed aside those feelings of remaining closed off.
“I will.”
“Really?”
“Considering all that we’ve been through, I think it’s time you and I start talking about things neither of us would rather mention to others. Probably do us both good.”
He blinked. “I never thought I’d hear that from you. But I agree.” He paused. “One stipulation. We wait until we’re on the road to Bashan first.”
“Why? It’ll take us a couple of weeks to get back to Zafar.”
“I know. I want us focused on what we still have to do.”
“The notes at the library and our money?”
“Are secondary.” Rondel’s eyes grew dark in a way Andrasta had never seen before. “First we worry about paying back Wabu and Kamal. If it wasn’t for them setting us up at the museum, we never would have gotten involved in this.”
“I take it you have a plan.”
“Calling it a plan doesn’t do what I’m thinking justice.”
Rondel walked toward the two mounts Melek had left for them.
“Then what shall we call it?”
He climbed into the saddle. “A Masterpiece of Retribution.”
She placed her foot in the stirrup and swung up onto her mount.
“That sounds like the name for one of those plays you used to perform.”
“Hmm, it does, doesn’t it?”
EPILOGUE
Andrasta took her spot in the corner shadows of the cellar near the back wall. She carried a borrowed crossbow, loaded and ready. She preferred to have a blade in her hand, but Rondel had his heart set on crossbows.
The City of Pillars Page 28