“Of course I’ll stay.”
Jael watched from the window in the throne room overlooking the city while Zahhak paced behind him. On the streets, the rebellion grew. People joined the crowd around Fereydun as he marched through the city toward the palace. Kaveh’s blacksmith apron waved from a pole at the front of the mob.
Soldiers fought, their clashing swords ringing through the city, but the crush overwhelmed Zahhak’s soldiers, or they defected, and the rebels continued toward the palace.
When the first defectors and rebels reached the throne room, Jael found himself in the position of defending Zahhak to prevent the mage magic escaping. “The throne room is too open. We need a smaller room to defend.”
Zahhak didn’t need to be told twice. The snakes had retreated into his shoulders and he couldn’t summon them anymore. He was completely dependent on Jael for his defense. The king fled to his chambers while Jael held off the attackers.
A woman’s scream stopped him from following the king. Jamshid’s daughters. He couldn’t forget his promise to the man. “Lock yourself in your bedroom.” A door slammed, then another.
Jael bounded into the room the scream had come from, only to find Xenos already there. Blood stained his lion skin shirt and sword.
The sisters cowered on the bed. Their clothing still consisted of only scarves, but there was nothing to be done about that at the moment.
“I scared them when I came through their window. They’re fine. It was just shorter this way than to try to get through all the people in the lower levels. Where’s Zahhak?”
Jael pointed with one sword, and took a position in the hallway, blocking access to both rooms.
Xenos sprinted into Zahhak’s receiving room and headed straight for the closed door on the other side.
“Zahhak!” Xenos knocked on the heavy wooden door with the pommel of his sword.
When silence was the only answer, he banged on the door again. “Zahhak!”
No answer.
Xenos pounded on the door until the wood splintered and he could force his way in. He disappeared into the bedroom.
It was too quiet in there. What Xenos intended for the mage would make anyone scream and yell.
There were many heartbeats all over the palace, but none near this corridor, other than the sisters’. He hadn’t noticed Zahhak’s disappear. That was sloppy. Jael darted into Zahhak’s bedroom, only to find it empty. Where had they gone?
One of the tapestries fluttered. Jael drew it aside. A door stood open a crack to reveal a stone staircase leading downward. His vampire and assassin instincts urged him to go after his friend and help with the mage, but his promise held him where he was. Xenos could take care of himself, and knew what he was getting into. The women needed protection.
A mob, no matter how well-intentioned, had a way of going crazy and making people do things they normally wouldn’t.
Jael tore two heavy robes from hangers and went back to the other room. “Here. You can wear these. Zahhak’s gone. Fereydun will be taking over. Just wait here until things calm down.”
He took his place in the corridor again while he waited for Xenos to return.
Xenos stormed into the corridor, hair a mess, covered in dust and cobwebs. “Zahhak got away. He went out a secret passage. It opened into the market down below. I’m going into the city to find him. Don’t try to stop me. Now that he’s no longer king, we don’t have to be secretive. I won’t stop until the Snake Mage is dead.”
That was fine with Jael. He had other men to bring down.
CHAPTER FORTY FIVE
VIKTORIA
“SHADOW.” HER MOTHER caught Shadow when she swept out of the portal into a small icy, crystalline room with a cheerily burning fire, and a floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall window. The sight of the snow, the soul birds, and cool temperature were all welcome. None of her sisters were here, for which Shadow was grateful. She wasn’t ready to face them yet.
The manacles holding her wrists behind her broke and fell to the floor. Shadow threw her arms around her mother’s neck.
Usually not demonstrative, Mother embraced her daughter tightly. “You were so far away.” A hand cupped Shadow’s cheek. “The spell protecting you is almost broken. What did they do to you?”
The last few days caught up to Shadow — all the terror, injustice, and abuse — her story and emotions poured out in great heaves and a stream of tears. She never wanted to be kidnapped again. Shadow sniffled as she straightened. “When they couldn’t hurt me, they hurt others. They like causing pain. I... I want them to pay, mother.”
Vengeance was a strange feeling. An urge to lash out and hurt another person. It was frightening how the visceral sensation sank into her bones so easily. She hated those men all the more for causing this emotion in her. “They were so cruel! All except for one human. A man. He was a true hero, mother. He protected me and made me feel safe.”
Louhi held Shadow close rubbed her back in comforting circles. “Are you sure he was a human?”
Shadow nodded.
“Then even though he protected you, it’s best to forget about him, Shadow. Humans live such brief lives, and you are a goddess. He would die and cause you pain. We need to leave them in their world and stay in ours.”
Too late for that. No kidnapper, prince, or hero would ever measure up to her fighter with the black eyes and twin swords.
“Tell me about the men who tried to hurt you.” The woman holding Shadow was the gentle version of a mother no longer. In her place, the Goddess of Witchcraft and Death spoke. “What are their names? Do you have something that they touched?”
Shadow nodded. “One of them made me wear these scarves. Another man put those manacles on me, and he knows the man who sold me.” She pointed to the pieces of metal on the icy floor.
Louhi drew a finger along one scarf and held out her hand. A small whirlwind brought her a chunk of the broken metal.
A snowy portal whirled in the air as the magic of the goddess danced around the two of them. Ice formed a transparent surface in the center, showing the bearded man who’d bought and imprisoned Shadow in the dungeon under the palace. He snarled and raised a sword.
“Is that him?” Mother’s voice could have iced over the whole desert.
“Yes.” Dread sent a tremble through her. She would never forget that face.
“Hmmm.” The goddess touched the portal, spinning and expanding the view.
Jael! Shadow still couldn’t see his face under his ever-present hood, but it was him. The way he moved, scimitars spinning. He made a demand in that language she couldn’t understand.
“Do you know that man?” Mother tapped one finger against the ice over Jael.
Shadow nodded. “That’s Jael. He saved me, Mother.”
“I see. And now it appears he is avenging you.”
The kidnapper replied, his response equally unclear.
“That language barrier is annoying, isn’t it? We’ll have to do something about that for the future.”
“Yes, it —”
Jael moved so fast Shadow almost didn’t see him. She gasped as his swords rose and fell, slashing at her tormentor. Slice after slice opened on his skin. Jael was torturing him.
“Hmmm.” Mother murmured again. “I like that one.”
The fight went on. Although it couldn’t really be called a fight. Jael’s far greater skill let him toy with his opponent. Shadow couldn’t look away, but a vague sense of nausea threatened to make itself more apparent. She had wanted vengeance. It wasn’t sitting well with her.
“You don’t have to watch, Shadow. I’ll make sure those men are no threat to you or your sisters ever again.”
Shadow shook her head. She had to see this ended for herself. It might be the last time she ever saw Jael, and she couldn’t look away.
The bloody swords cut a final time, and the man fell. Jael used the dead man’s tunic to clean his swords and sheathe them on his back.
The ice follo
wed Jael as he left the palace and walked through the city. He glanced over his shoulder like he knew he was being followed. Shadow thought a few times he saw straight through the ice to her, but that was impossible.
Jael left the main street and entered an alley, then raised a booted foot to kick in a door.
“Yes. This one I like quite a lot.” Louhi gave Shadow’s shoulders a squeeze. “Too bad about the human thing.”
“Mother!”
“Well, it’s true. If he wasn’t human, I would allow that man into Pohjola. He can probably even speak in more than pronouns.”
The Goddess of Witchcraft and Death was always complaining about heroes, their ability to be easily killed, and their overuse of pronouns. Shadow smothered a smile.
In the icy surface, Jael stormed into the house through the broken door.
Two men, her kidnapper and a younger man, leapt up from a table where they had been eating a meal. They backed away from Jael as he advanced on them. Her black-eyed warrior reached over his shoulders and slowly drew his blades.
The younger man’s rolled up in his head and he fell over in a faint.
Louhi chortled.
The kidnapper glared down at his unconscious companion, picked up dishes from the table, and thew them at Jael. He danced and spun out of the way of each missile, closing the distance to his target.
There was no playing around this time. When the kidnapper snarled something at Jael, he stabbed with both swords.
Shadow’s tormentor fell to the floor beside his friend.
“That was quite entertaining.” Louhi pulled away to look Shadow in the face. “It will take a little longer to find the first man. I don’t sense him near that city anymore, but I will look for him. He will not get away with what he did to you. Either your human or I will find him. I promise.”
Shadow sniffled. “Thank you, mother.”
“You are welcome, Shadow.”
The icy portal slowly closed. Shadow stared at it, unable to look away from the dark eyes of the man she would never see again.
“Are you ready to see your sisters now? They’re trying to figure out how to break the door down to get in here to you.”
Shadow nodded.
Louhi’s door opened and Shadow’s twelve sisters stampeded into the room. They ended up in a heap with Shadow and their mother at the center.
Shadow huddled in the safe circle of her sisters, taking comfort in their hugs and familiar voices. She never wanted to be kidnapped again.
Weaver played with Shadow’s hair, twisting it into elaborate designs and letting it fall straight. “It was all horrible? There weren’t any heroes?”
“There was one.” Shadow lifted her head. “He saved me and killed the men who tried to hurt me.”
“Will you share the memory?” Memory asked. “I want to remember the man who saved my sister.”
Shadow nodded and opened her mind to the light buzz of Memory’s magic when her sister reached out. Now Memory could remind Shadow of her human even if her own memories faded.
“Maybe he’ll come to Pohjola and look for you.” Dream sighed. “Wouldn’t that be romantic if he found you again?”
It would, but the ache in her heart brought tears to her eyes. The hope of seeing Jael again overwhelmed by the knowledge she never would hurt too much. “He won’t. He doesn’t speak any languages here. I don’t even know if he understood that Pohjola is my home. He couldn’t even say my name.”
Her mother held her close as the magic of the Goddess of Witchcraft and Death wove through the air and over all her daughters. “You never have to go into the human world. Forget all about that place, those evil men, and what happened there. Remember how much you like Pohjola, where the only thing my daughters have to worry about is what dress to pick for the day. You are safe here, and don’t have to worry about anything. What happened to you won’t happen again.”
Shadow closed her eyes as a feeling of contentment wove through her mind.
CHAPTER FORTY SIX
JAEL
IN THE THRONE ROOM, triplet thrones stood on the dais where a single one had been. Fereydun occupied the middle chair, with his aunts, Shahmaz and Arnavaz, on either side of him. All three wore their ceremonial robes, ready for the coronations.
“You’re sure?” Xenos held too still and spoke in a too calm tone. He was furious that Zahhak had slipped through their fingers during Fereydun’s coup.
“He’ll be here.” Jael scanned the room. “Even before Haestratos took over, Zahhak was arrogant. He won’t miss the chance to get his revenge during the coronations. He’ll see it as an affront that these three dare to put on what he sees as his crown.”
“And if he doesn’t show?”
“Then I will help you track him down. But he’ll come to us today.”
Guests crowded into the hall to watch the queens receive their crowns.
Kaveh stood in the crowd, reunited with his sons.
As the officiant lifted a crown to place it on Shahmaz’s head, two hisses froze the man in place. Zahhak threw his cloak aside, and the snakes slithered out of his shoulders.
The guests screamed and scattered, pushing each other to make their escapes.
Jael unsheathed his swords. Xenos pulled the vial of Gorgon poison from his pocket, tilting it so a drop of the poison landed on one of Jael’s blades and spread along the sharp edge. Xenos used the last of the fluid on his own sword and took two steps back so they’d have room to fight.
The snakes reared up, each of them focusing on one of Jamshid’s daughters. Zahhak must have found a witch somewhere. The snakes weren’t at their strongest, but they were more lively than before. Shahmaz and Arnavaz scrambled to put their thrones between themselves and the snakes.
Fereydun leapt to his feet, sweeping his mace into his hands as he descended from the dais.
Jael on the right, Xenos on the left, and Fereydun in the center, they fulfilled Zahhak’s dream as three enemies attacked him at once. The monstrous snakes diverted their attention from the women and lunged at the vampires.
Scimitars flashing, Jael slashed at the snake. It struck, heedless of the danger he represented. Fangs a hairsbreadth from his face, Jael stabbed his poison-coated scimitar up through the soft underside of the serpent’s jaw, straight through its mouth and into its head.
Skin immediately turned to stone — a grey rough texture coating smooth black scales. Jael yanked his sword free before it became part of the new statue.
Zahhak overbalanced, the heavy weight the snake had become pulling him to one side.
Xenos sidestepped and thrust his poison-coated sword down into the other snake’s skull. He pulled his sword free and stepped away.
With the stone serpents pulling him down, Zahhak went to his knees.
Fereydun lifted the mace high over his head.
The mage raised his face, wearing a smug, eager expression. He wanted to die.
The mace started its descent — a killing blow.
“No!” Jael blocked the downward strike with his crossed scimitars. If the king died, the Snake Mage would just change bodies and be free. “Death is too kind a punishment for him. Imprison him under Mount Damavand. Let him remain there until the end of the world.”
The mace struck the floor, shattering the stone tile.
IN THE DEEPEST CAVE under the mountain, Kaveh the Blacksmith pounded four great nails into the rock face. With a lion claw, Xenos cut four strips from the hem of his lion skin shirt. While he and Jael held the struggling Zahhak in place, Kaveh and Fereydun bound the Snake Mage’s hands and feet to the nails.
Fereydun leaned close. “Here you will wait until the end of the world.”
Jael waited until the humans left.
“Shall I call you Ahriman, like Zahhak did, or Haestratos, Snake Mage?”
“It matters not. All are present. Use whatever name you like.”
“You are not the one I’m interested in, anyway. Where are the Wolf, the Jackal, the R
at, and the Vulture?” May as well ask for the world. No point letting this mage know which of the others Jael really wanted.
Haestratos laughed. “Why should I tell you anything?”
“Careful, Snake Mage. You no longer enjoy my protection, or that of your snakes.” Jael slashed. “Nor do I have to pretend to like you, or that I am human.” He pushed the hood off his head and let his darker side out.
“Vampire.” Haestratos seethed.
“Vampires.” Xenos pushed his hood back.
“Nephew.” The mage smirked. “It’s nice to see you again. How are your parents?” he taunted.
Jael opened a shallow cut across the mage’s chest, prompting a scream.
“I don’t know where the other mages are!”
He cut a slice into the mage’s calf. “I don’t believe you. You’re all brothers and you’ve known them for six thousand years. You know their habits.” A slice to an upper arm. “Where they like to go.” A cut across a cheekbone. “What kind of magic they prefer to feed on.” Four lines and a crossbar on the stomach.
That reminded him of a game his daughter used to play with a grid and O’s and X’s. Maybe he and Xenos could play later if the mage wouldn’t talk.
Haestratos hissed. “We’re brothers, not friends. We have no care for one another.”
“Even more reason you’d know something about where they hide. Maybe you wouldn’t keep track of family. But everyone wants to know where the threats are.” A slash to a thigh. “And everyone wants to know where an enemy keeps his secrets. Tell me about their secrets.”
A hundred slashes later, the mage caved for the first time. “The Wolf feeds on shifter magic.” He rasped, voice hoarse from screaming insults and, well, just screaming. “He was in Cymru last I heard.”
Jael poured some water into Haestratos’ mouth and splashed his body to wash blood away. It was getting hard to see where the cuts were. A repeated slice didn’t count.
Viktoria's Shadow: Jael Page 21