The Lillim Callina Chronicles: Volumes 1-3

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The Lillim Callina Chronicles: Volumes 1-3 Page 51

by J. A. Cipriano


  What stepped forth from the swirling mist was a gnome about two and a half feet tall. His eyes were black as soot, and he had a fine golden beard that reached almost to his knees. He was bare-chested, showing a torso I’d rather him have kept covered. Sweat sparkled along his bald head as he raised one ebony hand toward us and made a jerking motion.

  The ice beneath our feet roiled, throwing Kishi off balance, and she fell backward onto her butt. I grabbed onto the wall for stability, but it was so cold that the metal on the hands of my gauntlet shrieked as I toppled anyway. My hands hit the ground with an audible crack of shattered steel as the gauntlet cracked into a million pieces.

  “Okay, maybe we run,” I said as I hauled myself to my feet and took off down the hallway.

  I managed to stop myself before I crashed into the doorway at the other end of the hallway. It was emblazoned with silver filigree. Purple gemstones the size of my head were set in a circular pattern around the center.

  Footsteps echoed in the hallway, and I knew Warthor and Kishi were right behind me. The swelling press of winter just a little beyond them told me the Winter Breaker wasn’t far behind.

  I glanced over the door, checking for magical traps as quickly as possible and grabbed the knob. I twisted and pushed. The door slid open as if it weighed less than a cloud.

  Two red pinpricks of light stared back at me from the utter darkness of the room. I swallowed once and glanced over my shoulder. “Uh… guys, maybe we need a new plan,” I said.

  Laughter exploded out of the doorway so forceful, it knocked the breath from my lungs. The force of winter behind me abruptly vanished as the crimson eyes came closer.

  “So you have finally come, Lillim Callina. I have been waiting eons for this moment.” The voice was like a rumbling earthquake given form, and it stood the hair on the back of my neck on end. It stirred something deep down in my psyche that told me, in no uncertain terms, that I should be running away, right the hell now.

  “Get behind me, Lillim!” Warthor’s voice was strained as he shoved himself past me and blocked my view of the door behind his body. Part of me wanted to argue with him, wanted to tell him to get the hell out of my way, but honestly? Most of me was glad he put himself between me and the thing inside the door. The moment he did so, a crushing weight seemed to lift from my shoulders.

  “Warthor Ein, oh how I’ve longed to meet you.” The wet smack of lips filled my ears and echoed down the hallway. Warthor staggered, his body falling against me. I grabbed hold of him, wrapping my arms around his waist to keep him from sliding to the ground. His head lolled backward, falling limply against my shoulder.

  Darkness exploded out of the doorway in a flurry of black flapping wings. Crows of every shape and size filled the tiny hallway, pressing against me as I threw myself to the ground, covering Warthor’s unconscious body with my own. I shut my eyes as feathered wings slapped at my skin and clawed feet pulled at my hair.

  It stopped. Silence filled the room so completely and so suddenly that it was very nearly a living thing in my ears. I swallowed and opened one eye to see a woman standing between me and Kishi. She stood almost seven feet tall with a body that reminded me of a ballerina dancer.

  Huge black-feathered wings were folded on her back almost shrouding her like an immense cloak. Crimson hair with raven feathers woven into it was piled onto her head in a weird sort of bun that reminded me of galaxies far, far away. Her body was covered in a sheath of bird feathers that reminded me more of a second skin than clothing. They fluttered as she raised one hand to her cheek and tapped a black fingernail against her ivory skin.

  “Know your place, fairies,” she snapped, narrowing her crimson eyes into thin slits.

  The Goblin King and the Winter Breaker fell into that prone position I’ve seen people use when in the presence of royalty. Behind them, the Queen of the Cold and Dark froze in place, a look of shock and horror plastered across her delicate features. She dropped very quickly into a curtsey so delicate and graceful, it nearly made my head spin.

  “Good,” the woman cooed, pursing her scarlet lips. “Hold those positions until I say otherwise.”

  “Yes, m’lady,” they repeated in unison, and the sound of their three voices sent a shiver running down the back of my spine. They were afraid. So afraid, their fear permeated the very air around them.

  Fear settled in my gut as I glanced at Kishi, hoping she knew why everyone was so scared. She shrugged at me. Well, that was helpful.

  “Do you know who she is?” I mouthed. Kishi shook her head almost imperceptibly.

  “So, you have found me at last, Lillim Callina, and you brought playthings. How nice.” She smiled and nodded toward my companions. “Kishi al Akeer, Hisen Mattoc, and, of course, the insolent Warthor Ein.” Part of me wanted to laugh because almost no one talked to Warthor like that, but I didn’t want to draw her attention to myself again.

  “You know our names,” Kishi said, her statement sounding more like a question.

  “Of course. I know the names of all the Valkyries.” She grinned, revealing a mouthful of pointy, dagger-like teeth. “I guess you’re calling it something different now. Dioscuri, is it?” she added in a huff before waving her hand.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I asked incredulously as I released my hold on Warthor and stood. He moaned next to me. That was a good sign.

  “I am talking about your legacy. Well, my legacy really. I was the first of you so long ago that time cannot even measure… and I have been trapped here, in this place, for so long, I almost forgot what sunlight felt like.” She nodded at Kishi. “Would you care to turn on the sun, girl?”

  “Morrigan…” Warthor’s voice was so quiet that I almost didn’t hear him. I glanced down at him. His eyes were bloodshot, but open. He moved, flopping onto his hands and knees before reaching up and seizing my wrist with his iron grip. He pulled himself to his feet and stood there, wobbling. “You’re really her, really the Morrigan.” He shook his head. “I didn’t know the Celtic goddess of Death was still around.”

  “I’m surprised you remember me. It isn’t often I find someone who knows my history.” The woman grinned at him.

  “Show me your blades.” Warthor’s voice dropped into a sort of husky octave that I’d never heard before. His free hand clenched and unclenched while the other tightened its grip on his sword.

  Without a word, the Morrigan reached behind her back and pulled out two hooked, kukri-style swords. The black blades pulsed with eerie red light that cast shadows dancing across the room.

  “Babd and Nemain,” she said, holding them out for Warthor to see. Green fluid dripped down the right weapon, and, with a casual flick of her wrist, she sent it flying against the marble floor. It hissed and popped, eating through the stone with as much effort as it would take a bowling ball to fall through a wet tissue.

  Warthor’s eyes got as big as saucers, and he took a quick step backward. His throat pulsed as if swallowing something large and distasteful. A shiver ran down the back of his body. I wasn’t sure what to make of that reaction, but I certainly didn’t like it. Warthor wasn’t scared of anything, but the Morrigan was certainly scaring him. Granted, she was a death deity, but it wasn’t like she was Hades.

  “I won’t let you hurt her.” His voice had the barest tremble to it as he gestured toward me. He was scared? My master, the Invincible Warthor Ein, was scared.

  He put down the Queen of the Cold and Dark without even breaking a sweat. He threatened to unmake creation if they didn’t bring me back to life. Warthor Ein didn’t know fear, and yet, here he was… trembling.

  “I don’t need you to protect me,” I said, shouldering him aside.

  “He couldn’t anyway. He knows he cannot stop me, but it’s noble he would still try.” The Morrigan sheathed her weapons and waved her hand absently. She turned her head toward Kishi. “How close are the scales now?”

  “Reasonably close,” Kishi answered with a look of shock on her
face. “I hadn’t realized how close they’d gotten.”

  “And you, Zeb Kusa Ben-Mae? Do you agree with her assessment?” the Morrigan asked, inclining her head toward the gnome.

  The Winter Breaker looked up at the Morrigan and nodded his head once. “They are close enough in balance. The Winter Queen’s twin defeats were enough to heap power back toward Summer.” Something glinted in his dark eyes. “It is the only reason why the Summer Breaker could stand against me.”

  “Then I will consider the matter closed, unless anyone has any objections?” the Morrigan said, and her words had the air of finality to them. “Now, let us make preparations for the invasion.”

  “We do not need their help to repel those forces—” the Queen of the Cold and Dark began but her voice sort of sputtered out. She sank to her knees, grasping her throat. The Morrigan took a step forward, and with a wave of her hand, allowed the Queen to suck in a single a breath.

  “They clearly have been sent to help us. I do not understand why that is not apparent to you, Queen of the Sidhe. Why else would they be here when the armies are at the gates of Summer and Winter?” The Morrigan gestured back at us.

  “Actually, I was just here to inquire as to why the fairy cleaning service hasn’t been very good lately,” I said and even as the words left my mouth I felt a little ridiculous.

  “You see?” the Morrigan boomed. “They are here to help rid the pixies’ lands of the invaders. They just didn’t know it.”

  16

  “Even in Thermopylae there were like four thousand Greeks along with those three hundred Spartans. Where are our Greeks?” Kishi asked, glancing along the ramparts. They were spotted with the gold and silver clad Sidhe warriors like the ones we’d fought inside the dominion of Fairy, but not nearly the number necessary to defend the miles of wall that stretched so far into the horizon that I couldn’t see either end.

  The Goblin King’s forces bolstered the defenses near the center of the gate, where we now stood, but it didn’t seem to matter much because the forces lined up on the other side were innumerable. Trying to count them was like trying to count the grains of sand in a desert.

  The second we went down there we were going to be swallowed alive. It made the new armor and healing the Winter Queen had given us feel a little pointless. It would do about as much good keeping me alive as my underwear would have, and at least that, at least in Kishi’s case, might have distracted them.

  What little I could see of the actual landscape appeared to have been burned beyond all recognition. The blackened husks of buildings and trees smoldered, filling the gray sky with thick smoke for miles and miles.

  “All your Greeks are already dead. Do you think this is the first day of fighting?” The Morrigan smiled, and her dagger-like teeth glinted in the warm sunlight.

  “So why aren’t they attacking?” Kishi asked with a shrug.

  “It is champion’s day. Only champions are allowed to fight during this day and you have not yet taken the field.” I wasn’t sure if the Morrigan’s grin got wider as she spoke or if it had always been that way.

  “So you expect us to fight on the side of Fairy against that?” Kishi gestured at the army of half-animal, half-human looking creatures.

  “Yes.” The Morrigan’s eyes flared with crimson fire. “Or I will throw you from this wall.”

  I glanced down at the ground a few hundred feet below. Theoretically, I could survive a fall like that with the right planning and spells. It was likely the Morrigan knew that. However, once we were down there we’d probably have no choice but to fight anyway. Was that her plan?

  The Morrigan’s eyes met mine and a chill ran over my skin like a breath of icy air. She nodded once, very slightly. Could she read my thoughts? That wasn’t creepy at all.

  “Does this happen often?” I asked as a large crocodile-headed man-creature raised an enormous bronze spear and yelled in a language I didn’t understand.

  “It hasn’t happened in a long time,” the Morrigan said with a sigh. “Nevertheless, it is happening now.” She pointed off into the distance where a village of sundered buildings stood smoking. “You came to find out why the pixies stopped doing your dishes, correct?”

  I nodded at her dumbly and felt my cheeks start burning. “After they rebuild my apartment, of course.”

  “Stop the invasion, and they will be free to do your laundry, sweep your floors, and make your bed once again.” The Morrigan’s voice was nearly emotionless save for the tiniest twinge of glee. Evidently, my reason for being here amused her. Swell. “After they rebuild your domicile, of course.”

  “And how do we stop that?” Kishi asked. Her green eyes narrowed into thin slits as she surveyed the unending army.

  “Defeat fifty champions in a row without losing. Winner takes all.” The Morrigan’s lips compressed into a hard line.

  “And how many wins does he have?” Warthor spoke, and the cold in his voice made my breath catch in my throat.

  “Forty-eight,” the Morrigan replied.

  “And he has already bested you, hasn’t he?” Warthor asked.

  “Yes and no. He has beaten all who stand before him,” the Morrigan said.

  “So, what you’re saying is we’re your only hope.” Mattoc sighed and shook his head. “And we can’t all try, either.”

  “Well, we all know this is going to end with Warthor Ein facing down gator-face anyway. Don’t believe the rumors, he’s the most powerful Dioscuri alive,” I said, turning toward Warthor and gesturing at him. “Why don’t you go first, Warthor?”

  “When he loses what will you do?” the Morrigan asked, and her red eyes bore into me like a physical force. I shifted from side to side uncomfortably as I tried to remember how to talk.

  I almost couldn’t imagine Warthor actually losing. Worse still, what if the Morrigan was right? If he did lose, what was to stop that army from running roughshod over us? Nothing. If Warthor couldn’t win, we were screwed.

  “I’m pretty sure I can beat that guy,” Warthor said with a shrug. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been truly tested, and I’ll admit, the idea is strangely appealing. Besides, even if by some miracle he does beat me, he’ll be in no shape to take on anyone else.”

  “Take heed, Warthor Ein. Even you cannot hope to stand against Sobek and win.” The Morrigan’s words caused Warthor Ein to stiffen. He had been about to leap down off the wall, but instead he stood frozen and unmoving in mid-crouch. Very slowly, he turned wide eyes to the Morrigan, realization settling over him in a mask of sheer terror. The sight of him looking like that made an icy fist grip my heart. What was going on?

  “You can’t be serious,” he said quietly. “Is that really Sobek?”

  “I am.” The Morrigan crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him like he was a particularly interesting worm.

  “Then you are correct. I cannot beat him. Only Lillim can.” Warthor glanced at me, and I’m not quite sure how, but my blood turned to ice in my veins. If Warthor couldn’t win, how the hell was I supposed to win? “Or maybe Mattoc.”

  “What’s a Sobek, and why can only Lillim beat him when Warthor is by and large more powerful?” Kishi asked.

  The Morrigan turned to look at her like she was an errant child.

  “Sobek is the Egyptian God of strength and power,” Mattoc said, glaring at the Morrigan. “Even Lillim can’t stand up to a freaking god. Hell, he took you down, and you’ve got more power in your pinkie than all of us combined.”

  “But I cannot commune with Egyptian gods. It is why he has beaten us all. In the end, we are not from that mythological line. His power is foreign in this place, almost like an invading cancer. It breaks down our magic before we can truly use it on him. Our attacks fall off of him like dust falls off a mountain.” The Morrigan took one look at me and shrugged. “Her weapons throb with Egyptian power—”

  “You mean Shirajirashii is actually inhabited by the Set and Isis?” Kishi’s jaw didn’t quite drop, but it
might as well have. “I thought that was just a rumor.”

  “Not a rumor,” Warthor Ein said. “Fact. And with Mattoc’s help, she doesn’t just control Isis and Set. She wields Apep as well. That’s the key. Apep is the Egyptian boogieman. He is the god that the whole of the Egyptian Pantheon stands against. Together. Here Sobek is alone. If Lillim can call upon Apep’s power, she might be able to bring down Sobek.”

  I swallowed and looked away embarrassed. I didn’t like when people mentioned Apep. I couldn’t tell you why I was fine with people knowing my swords were inhabited by Isis and Set and not Apep, but it was true. It was sort of like walking around saying you were using power given to you by Lucifer himself. Still, they had a point. Apep was a big deal in Ancient Egypt. Maybe that would be enough.

  Below us, Sobek was tramping around in a wide circle of murky water that reached to his mid-thighs. I wasn’t sure how tall he was, but I was willing to wager the water would be at least chest deep on me. I reached down and touched the hilts of my weapons and felt a spark of recognition surge through me.

  Yes, that was really Sobek. Yes, my swords recognized him. Yes, they thought they could beat him… maybe.

  17

  The doors slammed shut behind me with a clang that deafened my ears and thrummed down my body. Fifty feet in front of me, the massive pool of water glistened in the noontime sun. Reeds and other foliage dotted its edges, and it was only then that I noticed that it was the endpoint to a river that stretched so far into the distance that I couldn’t see its end. Crocodile-headed soldiers lined its banks, making up the bulk of the army, but there were other creatures with the heads of jackals, birds, and serpents.

  Sobek stood in the center of the lagoon. He was at least twice my height. A golden disk adorned his head. Gilded armor shielded his shoulders and torso, covering the tunic he wore with thick metal plates while leaving his arms bare. Greaves covered his legs, revealing only a thin bit of scaly green skin in the gap between them, and the bottom of the tunic.

 

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