by Jade Kerrion
“She’s not, but we’ve got bigger problems than what you think Ashe is. Come with me, now. We have to get out of here.”
Ondine’s gaze swept across the room. Her eyes widened at the sight of Duggae, and then at the glowing form of Ereshkigal. “She…” Her voice faded to a stricken whisper. “I’ve seen her…”
“I bet,” Varun muttered. He yanked Ondine’s arm, pulling her toward the exit.
“Hold!” Zamir’s voice thundered. “You’re leaving with something that belongs to me. My soul.”
Varun spun around and pushed Ondine away from him, before bracing to meet Zamir’s charge. Still more agile on land than Zamir, he sidestepped Zamir’s spear, grabbed the shaft, and wrestled for the weapon.
They were far more evenly matched in strength than Varun had thought. Muscles cording, they glared at each other across the spear shaft. “You serve a deceiver,” Zamir snarled. “Asherah is not who she pretends to be.”
“Your goddess has lied to you. Whatever Ashe is, she is, first and foremost, a mother. The pendant she wears next to her heart—it’s your scale. It’s so much a part of her, it stays with her as she transforms from one form to another. A part of you is the only thing that remains a part of her, whatever her form.”
Zamir’s eyes widened, and in that instant, he almost seemed vulnerable. “It can’t be. Either she lies, or the Arbiter does.”
“Ashe is here only because of you, to save you from whatever deal you’ve made with the Arbiter. It’s time to face up to what’s right in front of you. You have a mother. She’s furious with you, and she’s furious for you. She may kick your ass, but she’ll definitely kick the ass of the person who’s manipulating you—Ereshkigal.”
“You’re…lying. You know nothing of me. Nothing of her.”
“I know what a mother’s love looks like. I’ve stared at it my whole life. And it looks the same on Ashe as it does on my mother—love that would do anything, give up everything, for her child.”
Motion flickered in the corner of Varun’s eye, followed by a furious flapping of wings and Jinn’s outraged caw. Varun twisted around slightly and saw the parrot scratching and raking at Ondine’s face again.
On the ground at Ondine’s feet was his open backpack. And in her hand was the Isriq Genii.
“Ondine’s got the dagger!” Varun shouted.
No! Ashe spun around. The wind yanked the Beltiamatu warriors from their pinned positions against the wall and flung them like projectiles at Ondine.
Ondine held out her hand, and the Beltiamatu burst into flames, their screams fraying as their bodies smoked. Piles of ashes dropped to the ground in front of Ondine. She flicked her wrist across her face, and Jinn’s feathers turned into tongues of fire. The bird screeched, flapping wildly across the cavern.
Ashe squeezed water out of air, drenching the parrot and extinguishing the flames. Her voice screamed into his mind. Varun, run!
Damn it, he was the only person in the cave with a soul that could be stolen.
He let go of the spear and raced toward the tunnel. The sound of quick, running footsteps chased him. A wall of fire appeared in front of him, blocking his escape. Heat drove him back. He spun around and saw Ondine’s expressionless face. Light glinted off the downward arc of the Isriq Genii.
“No!” Duggae suddenly appeared in front of him. The gnome’s short arms stretched over Varun.
Blinding, utter pain surged through Varun, and his world went black.
Chapter 29
No! Ashe screamed. She flung herself across the cavernous space and caught Varun as he crumpled to the ground. Duggae sprawled over Varun, their bodies pinned together by the Isriq Genii. Ashe yanked out the dagger. Crimson dripped along its curved edge, then across the single black gem embedded in its hilt. The precious stone flashed, its radiance sharper and brighter than a diamond, then faded to black.
Its task was done.
No…No. Please, no. She stroked Varun’s face, but he was not breathing. Duggae, too, was dead; his body already crumbling into dust.
Ashe looked up at Ondine, whose face was utterly expressionless, as Zamir straightened, the platinum spear still in his hand. He wore an uncertain frown. “Am I…Do I have a soul?”
Her son’s plaintive question incensed Ashe. The wind swirled around her, vibrating her words around the cavern with otherworldly resonance that Jinn’s voice could never have accomplished. “You didn’t deserve his soul!” Ashe lowered Varun’s head gently to the ground and rose into the air. She would mourn him later—after she ripped Ereshkigal and Ondine apart.
Ereshkigal’s glow was undimmed, but there was a quizzical arch to her brow. “Where does all this concern for a human come from?”
“Varun did not belong in a war between elementals and gods. He was only trying to do what was best for his people. He did not deserve to die without a soul.”
“But your job is done, is it not?” Ereshkigal mocked. “After all, your quest for Zamir’s soul is the reason you apparently abandoned him. Now he has a soul—and an excellent one too.”
“The privilege to touch eternity is freely given and freely received—not stolen. Varun will not need a soul to be remembered. He has already earned his place in eternity.”
Zamir looked even more uncertain of himself, but Ereshkigal threw her head back and laughed. “You are nothing like I remember.”
Ashe snarled. “Maybe it’s because I’m not whoever it is you think you remember, but don’t worry. I’ll give you lots of memories to take with you to your dark pit.”
“Do you really think you can defeat me, Little Mermaid?” Ereshkigal flung out the words, her smile a mocking curve on her lips.
“I was the Little Mermaid, but I am now a Daughter of Air and the Lady of the Sea. And I defy you, goddess.”
The wind swirled into a hurricane. It twisted over the ground and enfolded Ereshkigal. Her golden glow vanished in the frenzy of the storm’s whipping tentacles. Ondine stepped forward, her eyes wide with alarm.
A blinding flash burst from the heart of the hurricane, so brilliant that Ashe had to shield her eyes. When the glow diminished, Ereshkigal stood in the center of the cavern, apparently unaffected by the winds.
The goddess smiled, but the curve of her lips was cold, humorless. “Your command of the air and water will not save you. Nor will it save the Earth. The corruption has already begun. It will spread from the ocean to the land, until everything on Earth is mine.” Ereshkigal waved her hand. Jagged spikes emerged from the cave wall, turning the entire interior of the cavern into a deadly iron maiden. The spikes dripped with viscous black liquid—the tainted blood that swilled through the infected Beltiamatu’s veins and polluted the ocean.
Ereshkigal murmured words Ashe did not recognize.
The incantation vibrated with ancient power and cruel purpose.
Agony dropped Ashe to her knees and flung her head back in a soundless scream. The jolt of hitting the ground rocked her body.
“You left me bound for thousands of years, and now, you will endure the same,” Ereshkigal mocked. “Never again will you flitter between your physical and spirit forms, as free and wild as the wind. I have chained your spirit to your body—your frail and imperfect body. There is no place to flee, no refuge to hide. You will be proof that even the most powerful elementals succumb to my elixir.”
Ereshkigal’s power yanked Ashe off her feet and hurled her toward the wall and the black ooze-covered spikes. The wind curled around her, trying to reverse her direction, but it was not strong enough. Ashe flung her hands over her face and braced for impact, but instead of sharp spikes, she hit a smooth slick surface. Her fingers tried to grasp it, but mud slipped between her fingers. She slid down the incline and tumbled to the ground. What the—?
Ashe raised her gaze to a pair of denim-clad legs. She tilted her head back. Varun stood in front of her, his shirt stained with blood, but very much alive. Their eyes met. Ashe’s breath caught.
Varun�
��s once brown eyes were now jet black, speckled with silver.
Just as Duggae’s had been.
His chest heaved with his uneven breaths. “I feel…weird.”
Chapter 30
Weird did not describe half of what Varun felt. His vision wavered, but not all of it—just the ground and the walls of the cave. When he touched the earth, it moved as if he were a child molding clay. His thoughts altered its texture, softening it to mud or hardening it into granite.
And Duggae was gone.
There was nothing left of him, not even his clothes.
Ashe stared at Varun. “You…it can’t be…”
He stared at her. Her lips did not move. She was obviously still speaking with her mind, except that he could hear her voice, as layered and melodic as the waves.
The filters between them had been removed. The rules governing his world had changed.
Varun ran his fingers over his bloodstained clothes and the rip right over his heart. The dagger had left a scar on his chest—a circle with a straight vertical line through it.
Earth.
More than just the rules had changed.
He had changed.
Varun’s mind stumbled over the words. “What happened?”
Ashe shook her head. Her voice stammered as she too fumbled toward inexplicable truths. “I don’t know. The dagger struck Duggae first, but he had no soul to steal. Instead, the dagger must have forced his powers out…and into you.”
“And my soul?” Varun asked, but even as the words left his lips, he knew the answer. For the first time, he heard the pulse of his soul, a haunting tune skimming along the hazy barrier between his conscious and unconscious mind, swaying in time with a deeper, primeval rhythm.
The universe.
He was listening to the heartbeat of the universe as it resonated with his soul.
Varun sucked in a jagged breath. His soul was still in him, still his. He looked up at Zamir who stared, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, at him.
Zamir shook his head. “If you are alive, then…my soul.” He spun around to glare at Ereshkigal. “Where is the soul you promised me? I fulfilled our bargain. I poisoned the oceans. I lured the power of water, earth, and air to this place and broke the seal that trapped you in your prison. Where is my soul?”
The goddess’s eyes narrowed at his demands, but a slow smile spread across her face. “You shall have your soul.” She extended her hand over the pit and beckoned. A misty figure, dimly outlined, emerged from the pit. Its cone-like helmet and full-body armor concealed its face and body, but even partially formed, it radiated strength and power. “Behold, the First Commander.”
Ashe gasped.
“What is it?” Varun demanded.
“Just a…legend.”
“So why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”
“Beltiamatu legends speak of the First Commander, the captain of the starship that landed on Earth. That starship carried the technology that allowed the Beltiamatu to make their home in the oceans. He is the founder of the Beltiamatu culture here on Earth.”
“And that’s his soul?” Varun asked.
“That armor looks like the images I’ve seen in the archives, of what the Beltiamatu were like, among the stars, before we became ocean-dwelling creatures on Earth.”
Ereshkigal beckoned. “Stretch out your hand, Zamir. Accept this, the soul of the greatest among the Beltiamatu.”
Ashe shook her head. “But the Beltiamatu don’t have souls…” Her voice trembled. “Do they? Did they?”
If not a soul, what then was Ereshkigal offering to Zamir?
Ashe stared at her son. “Don’t, Zamir, please,” she pleaded. “You don’t need a soul. No one needs a soul to touch others and to live forever in their memories.”
“I do need a soul, Mother.” Zamir threw out the last word as his lips twisted into a mocking half-smile. “I have nothing else, not a kingdom, not a people. You’ve taken it all from me.” He extended his hand and laid it upon the First Commander’s translucent chest.
“No, wait!” Varun shouted.
The First Commander’s form evaporated, like mist in the sun, and the dark tendrils of smoke wafted into Zamir’s nose and mouth.
Varun shook his head. “How can the First Commander, the forefather of the Beltiamatu, have a soul, while the Beltiamatu now don’t?”
Ashe glanced at Varun, her widening eyes betraying flickers of fear.
Zamir’s body trembled as if at war with itself.
“What have you done?” Ashe shouted at Ereshkigal.
“I gave him the second greatest desire of his heart.” Ereshkigal laughed. “Can you believe it—when he first sought me out, what he wanted most was to free you. He thought you were bound in forced servitude to the Daughters of Air. He wanted you restored to the heart of the ocean.” She looked at Zamir, still shaking beneath the control of whatever possessed him. “He was yours. Even after you abandoned him, he was still yours. But he is mine now, just like all the souls of the Beltiamatu are mine.”
“What do you mean?”
Ereshkigal hissed. Her facade of geniality melted away. “Don’t pretend. You know exactly what I mean. You chose them over me—strangers over family, slaves over royalty.”
Ashe’s eyebrows shot up. “I don’t understand—” Her gaze flashed to Zamir as he straightened, his shoulders squaring. She ground her teeth and looked back at Ereshkigal. “Give him back to me.”
Ereshkigal shook her head. “I cannot return that which you freely gave up all those years ago. He is mine now, as is any Beltiamatu who has ever had a soul.” She beckoned, and Ondine and Zamir returned to her side. Her glance flicked over them with the fondness of a mistress gazing at her pets. “You know what it is you have to do.”
Zamir’s body coiled, his muscles bunching like a warrior preparing for battle.
Ereshkigal’s golden eyes narrowed. “Destroy them.”
Chapter 31
Ashe leaped high. The wind snatched her up, carrying beyond the reach of Zamir’s charge. Her son snarled as he hurled his spear. She flicked her wrist, and the wind knocked the spear off its trajectory.
“Come down here and fight!” Zamir roared.
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Then I will make you!” Zamir clasped his right hand around his left fist and slammed them into the ground. The shockwave roiled from the earth and up through the cavern walls, shaking the entire cave. The concussive waves knocked Ashe from the air; her impact with the ground punched the breath out of her lungs. She blinked dazedly up, then twisted sideways. Zamir’s fist slammed into the ground where she had lain. A cloud of dust flew into her face, and the shockwave knocked her further back. She rolled into a battle crouch, then leaped away as Zamir’s fist descended again.
“How long can you keep running away from the consequences of your decisions?” Zamir shouted.
“I wouldn’t be here if I were running away,” Ashe retorted. “I came for you, Zamir.”
“Two hundred and ninety-seven years too late! And you came back to stop me!” He flung his fist out.
Ashe slammed air into a shield in front of her, but Zamir’s fist knocked her off her feet. She tumbled backward. Whatever soul infused him, it packed a hell of a punch. She glared at Zamir. “I returned to Shulim to stop you, but I came here to save you.”
“You don’t know the difference. You’re not even my mother.”
Ashe’s eyes narrowed. “Only two of us were present at your birth. Only one of us has any actual memories of the event, and it sure as hell isn’t you. I gave birth to you, Zamir. I’m not expecting gratitude, but don’t you dare call me a liar.” She spun the air into a whirlwind and unleashed it. It churned over the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust that swarmed over Zamir.
Her grin was bright, vicious, and entirely devoid of humor. Let Zamir find his way through that!
Ashe glanced around. Ereshkigal hovered, a golden, untouchable godd
ess, above the fighting and conflict she had unleashed. On the other side of the cavern, Varun and Ondine battled. The fire dancing at Ondine’s fingertips glittered like gem-studded rings. A flick of her wrist flung them out. The pinpricks of heat expanded as they hurled through the air, coalescing into massive balls of flame.
Varun flung up his arm. In defiance of gravity, the ground in front of Varun surged up. Layers of dirt condensed into rock. Minerals calcified into stone. A millennium of heat and pressure condensed into the space of a heartbeat. Soil transformed into a wall.
Ondine’s flames exploded against Varun’s defenses. Red, orange, and yellow tongues of fire spread out like oil on water, burning against rock.
Ashe scowled. Varun was pulling his punches, but then again, what could earth do against fire? Not even air or water— Her eyes widened. “Varun! With me!” Ashe’s powers unfurled like tentacles over Ondine’s head, wringing water out of the dry air. The first few drops were slow, painful, but then they quickened into a steady stream.
Varun grimaced. He kept an arm outstretched against Ondine’s fire storm. His muscles strained from the effort, the veins in his neck visibly throbbing. Teeth gritted, he gestured sharply with his other hand. Earth peeled off the cavern wall. It blended with water and dribbled into mud.
Ondine looked up. Her face blanched as the slow drip of muddy water suddenly convulsed into a torrent of mud. The mudslide swallowed her scream of terror. Her gurgle vanished as the brown slick swept across the cavern.
Varun and Ashe’s eyes met. His mouth twisted in the hint of a bitter smile, then his eyes widened. “Watch out!”
Ashe twisted around, but the vibrations from Zamir’s shockwave knocked her off her feet and slammed her against the cave wall. She tried to shake off the pain and vertigo, but Zamir was already striding toward her, his anger emanating like heat waves. He crouched, prepared to bring down his fists on the ground in an attack that would likely rip her apart.
Their eyes met, and Zamir froze.