Sword of the Tyrant

by Cebelius

  "There has to be an alternative," Yuri said, practically begging. "We are not enough. Must I throw their lives away?"

  "There are always alternatives."

  She reached out toward a small bag on a shelf near her, brushing it lightly with her fingertips. She glanced at it, then back at him, still with that infuriating, terrifying, deceptive smile.

  "The bones were cast for you as a child. You did not like what they had to say then. Are you truly willing to commit yourself to the destiny they describe now?"

  "I have come a long way since then," he said through gritted teeth.

  "Said as though I should be impressed by your growth and maturity."

  She made the words into curses by inflection, and the muscles of his neck tightened until he couldn't suppress a shiver.

  "If there were anyone else, I would go to them," he said, and with the admission, some of his tension bled away. "My sister hates me for hiding my destiny from her, and she is the only other I could go to. Who else would I ask? Boss? Psh. He would tell me to do what I feel is right, and if I knew what that was I would not need advice. I need guidance, and you are one of his women now. My destiny is tied to his. Asking you for help is the only decision I can come to."

  Baba Yaga snatched the tiny bag from its place. She bounced it on her palm, its contents clicking ominously as she looked at him, and her smile faded into a thoughtful expression.

  "Well well. Perhaps you are worth more than that pretty striped pelt of yours," she mused. "Had you asked me tomorrow, or even later today, I might have been forced to refuse you."

  The witch's smile — when it returned — was predatory.

  "Right now, I am inclined to accept, but there is the matter of payment. What can you possibly offer me?"

  "I do not presume to know what a witch needs," Yuri said quietly.

  Baba Yaga cackled and said, "Aha! This is what Tee would call a 'blank check.'"

  Yuri waited, watching the witch steadily. She would deal with him. His overt fear had been replaced by a sense of creeping dread. Whatever price he paid for what he was about to learn, he would not pay it now.

  "Very well, Yuri Kolenko. A fool you may be, but you are an undeniably useful fool, with talents that I may have need of in the near future. I shall toss the bones for you, and in return you will owe me a favor."

  She looked at him keenly as she asked, "Are we agreed?"

  Yuri looked at the floor, hesitating on the cusp of what he understood to be a life-changing decision. If he put himself in debt to Baba Yaga ...

  But he truly was lost. The scroll given to him by Vlad gave him the right to rule his people, but the truths it had revealed only convinced Yuri that he was not the man to lead them. Not now. The only place he could take them was the Twilight Zone, and no matter that he loved Terry Mack, he did not see a way the template could win. Not without his help, and not with it. There was simply no future for his people if he took them to war against the Dust Lord.

  If the bones told him he must go to war though ... he would not deny his destiny twice.

  The word was heavy in his mouth, but he got it out. "Agreed."

  Baba Yaga stared at him keenly for a long moment, then tossed the bag. She caught and closed her fist around it, leaving her pointer extended at him as she said, "Since you've come to me with an open mind, let me offer you an alternative before I cast these and seal your fate. You seem the sort who would be more committed to a course you choose for yourself."

  He looked from the bones to her, then nodded. She smiled and waggled the bag, its mouth caught between her thumb and palm as she said, "I have already cast the bones for Tee. Perhaps if I tell you his destiny, it will shed some light on yours."

  "What is the price for this information?" Yuri asked.

  "No price."

  She sounded deliberately wheedling as she spoke. "At least, none that you will pay to me. Everything I say will be the truth as far as I have seen it. You have my word as the Baba Yaga. Make your choice!"

  It was obvious to Yuri that the witch wanted him to take her alternative. If he passed, and had her throw the bones in exchange for a favor, she would almost certainly punish him for his refusal to play along.

  He nodded, ears flicking forward as he said, "Tell me what you will about Terry Mack."

  Baba Yaga's shoulders squeezed up and her eyes closed as she took a deep breath, licking her lips as though savoring a rare delicacy. Her obvious joy only made Yuri's dread increase.

  Then the moment passed. Baba tossed the bag of bones up onto the shelf and leaned back in her rocking chair, her hands coming to rest on the arms, fingertips tapping lightly as she gazed at him with a contented expression.

  "He's doomed," she said. "If he goes to Svartheim as he plans, that is where he will die."

  "Svartheim? That dungeon is in the mountains to the west. My people are to the southeast," Yuri said.

  "Correct. Should you not take action to dissuade him, the two of you must part ways. Likely today, given his newfound resolution. Should he go west, you will never see him again."

  "Why would he go there?" Yuri asked.

  "Because his only real hope of defeating the Dust Lord is there."

  "What is it?"

  "A sword."

  Yuri blinked. "A sword? Surely there is something more you can tell me."

  "Why would you want to know?" Baba Yaga asked, smiling brightly. "All you have to do is let him go to Svartheim, and you need wage no war against the Dust Lord. Let Terry go his own way, and you can rule your people in peace."

  Yuri blinked again.

  "But Boss will die?" he asked.

  "Prophecies do not deal in absolutes, but his chances of survival are so close to zero as to make no functional difference, even if you go with him. As his star rises, the forces arrayed against him multiply. Svartheim has more than one doom for Terrence Mack. If one does not claim him, the other will."

  The witch's smile darkened a bit, became cruel as she said, "Think about it. Tee goes off to Svartheim and dies there, along with several of his bonds. The rest disperse. The Dust Lord turns his attention to whatever it is he chooses to do next. Nothing else changes. All you have to do, is let him go."

  She giggled and raised her hands, waggling her fingers as she said, "Just like that, no more problems! You go to your people and bring them home, keep the peace your uncle and forebears worked so hard to achieve, and pass that peace on to your descendants."

  Her giggle turned into a cackle as she said, "Aren't you glad you took the free option? All you have to do to gain peace for your people is ... nothing!"

  Yuri looked at Baba Yaga for a long moment in silence as she smiled back at him. He tried to consider what she was telling him, then shrugged and said, "Tell me more about this sword."

  "Why would you want to know?" she asked.

  "Because if he cannot get it himself, then I will go and get it for him," Yuri said, all traces of uncertainty and dread gone. Here was something he knew how to do. All he needed was information.

  The witch watched him for a moment in silence, then folded her hands in her lap as she abruptly leaned forward — all trace of levity gone — and asked, "Are you stupid?"

  "Please do not mistake me," Yuri said, choosing his words carefully. "Leading my people to war would not be something I do out of mere filial obligation to Boss. It would be something I do because I believe he is serving my people, and we could do no less if he needed our help. If he is determined to have this sword, it will be because he believes he needs it to beat the Dust Lord. Is this true?"

  Baba Yaga nodded as she said, "Oh yes. Tee will never have even a tenth of the raw might Thomas wields. He would require a thousand years and a completely different personality to gain enough bonds and loyalty to oppose the Dust Lord and his forces directly."

  The witch winked at Yuri and waggled a finger as she said, "He knows that better than anyone, so he did the smart thing, and asked Baba Yaga for help. I told him
about the sword."

  Yuri's eyes did not waver from Baba Yaga's. "Tell me why this sword is so important."

  "Tyrfing is unique in that it may bridge any gap, pass any obstacle, to slake its thirst for template blood. So intent is it in its purpose that it may only be drawn when a template is nearby, and failure to kill one such within an hour of unsheathing Tyrfing will see the sword turn upon its wielder."

  Yuri nodded along as he said, "So the sword that Boss needs would be drawn against him if he seeks it. That is why he is destined to die if he goes to Svartheim."

  The witch did not reply. She didn't need to. Given the weapon's curse, it would be foolish to presume otherwise.

  "How can I convince him not to go?" he asked instead.

  "What, you want me to draw you a map to his yurt?" Baba Yaga asked incredulously. "Write you a script maybe?"

  "It could not hurt," Yuri said, then jerked his head back as Baba Yaga leaned forward a bit further, hands clenched around the arms of her chair as she said, "You might not remember the last time someone got flippant with me, so I'll remind you that you went mad just a few moments later ..."

  She trailed off as Yuri slid off his stool and onto his knees in front of her. He felt no shame in debasing himself before one of the Powers, pressing his face to the slatted wooden floor as he begged, "Please, I meant no offense."

  Baba Yaga sighed in exasperation and leaned back in her rocking chair as she said, "Tee has me over a barrel when it comes to his bad behavior, but that doesn't mean I'll be putting up with any lip from the likes of you."

  She tapped her chin in thought, leaving Yuri cowering on the floor for a moment before she snapped her fingers and said, "There are a few chickens ... and I saw a pig wandering around. If I'm not enjoying bacon and eggs in exactly one hour, you won't have to wonder how you're going to stop Tee from going to Svartheim because he'll be in here scolding me for turning you into part of a balanced breakfast!"

  For a moment, Yuri stayed frozen in panic, but the sound of the door opening ended his paralysis, and he practically shot out of the hut, all grander thoughts of destiny, swords, and death forgotten in his frantic search for chicken eggs and a pig.

  The smell of cooked meat wafted from the chicken-legged hut as Yuri stepped out its front door, breathing a silent sigh of relief. It had been a near thing, but thankfully he was an excellent tracker and a fair cook.

  Baba Yaga had even complimented him, which had only made him wonder where the catch was.

  His attention shifted though, as he caught a familiar scent on the wind and turned to see Mila riding up, with Isthil pacing her horse.

  Their eyes met, and the cuts she'd carved into his face last night ached. He turned and strode purposefully toward her as she swung down.

  "What can I do?" he asked, skipping pleasantries. Neither of them needed or wanted them. He usually knew her mind, but now ... now he felt like everything was up in the air, and he did not know if what they had could be salvaged.

  Instead of answering him, she busied herself with taking the saddle off the horse after securing it to the hitching rail that ran between the yurts. Isthil glanced from one to the other of them, then left without a word, phasing through the wall of the yurt Boss had slept in last night.

  He waited patiently while his sister stripped the saddle off the horse, settling it on the rail. The blanket followed, then she pulled a curry comb from one of the saddle bags and set to work.

  Still he did not press. He simply stood still, watching her steadily as he waited.

  At last, she whirled and threw the comb at him. It struck him on the chest and he made no effort to retrieve it, nor did he break eye contact.

  His sister's eyes were blazing as she hissed, "What makes you think anything you can do will give me my brothers back?"

  "I cannot bring our brothers back, nor our cousins," he said, having had ample time to think about this. He knew what he would say. What he did not know was whether it would be enough.

  Just a chance, he inwardly pleaded. Please, I cannot lose you too.

  Aloud he said, "I would not accept my destiny. It cost us both. Do you think I miss them any less than you?"

  "You could have saved them!"

  "Yes. If I had been the man I was supposed to be then, I would have spared much pain."

  Mila's fists clenched. The keening sound she made tore at his heart, and he made no effort to hide the fact that his tail had wrapped his leg in shame, but he did not close his eyes.

  He would not compound his past mistakes. He would face whatever came with his eyes open.

  "Lives!" she yowled at last, jabbing a finger at him. "Not pain. Lives!"

  Yuri wished that the tears would come, but though he wanted to, he could not cry. Instead he simply said, "Please. No one would fault you if you disowned me ... but I am not finished. You are my sister, and I need you. I love you."

  Mila's backward hands were flexing, and her jaw worked behind her sabers. She'd gained a few inches in height becoming what her bond with Terry had made her: a Rakshasa. She was now very close to his height. Yuri was powerfully built, but he could no longer be certain of his speed or strength where his sister was concerned. The rage and sorrow that mingled in her expression, that showed in her lashing tail and mindlessly clenching fists, told him just how close she was to attacking him.

  The sound of the yurt door opening near them turned them both to look, and Terry Mack stepped out, twisting his neck and rolling his shoulders in an idle stretch.

  Momentarily distracted from each other, both siblings turned toward the template, and Yuri took in sheer physicality of the man. The shirt he wore was tight across shoulders rounded with muscle, but it hung loose past a deep chest, and his canvas pants were a tight fit for the powerful legs they covered.

  Gray-green eyes the color of angry seas sat above a nose that had been broken at least once and poorly set. He had a blaze of scar tissue just above those eyes that spoke of the wound that had brought him to Celestine, though Yuri had yet to hear the full story.

  He noted the red silk sash that usually denoted Prada's presence within him was absent, and he stood a mere six feet in height. Yuri topped him by an inch. The man's presence made him seem larger though. There was a solidity about him that most men lacked.

  His attention fixed on them, and Yuri watched his eyes flicker from one to the other.

  Then he opened the door to the yurt again and said curtly, "Everyone out. I don't care where you go, but you can't stay here."

  The tiger siblings watched as one by one his women left the yurt and walked away, though each spared a glance for them. Shy nodded once in understanding. Laina looked worried, but didn't say anything. Asturial walked away without a backward glance.

  Last out was Prada, once more in the form of a beautiful blonde female template. She glanced at Yuri and Mila, then quirked a brow at Terry, who shook his head before jerking it to one side, away from the Kolenkos.

  "Fine," she said curtly before walking away.

  Once they had gone he closed the door and with a final nod toward the two of them, began to walk away himself.

  "Wait!"

  Mila reached out, and he half-turned.

  "You should know what this is about," she said.

  "Either of you can tell me later," he said. "I don't want to get in the middle of this unless you need me to."

  "You are ... family," Mila said, obviously struggling with her decision. "I want you here."

  Terry frowned, but nodded and stepped over to them, keeping a wary eye on the horse. Yuri knew he didn't trust the animals, and had always refused to ride them.

  "Tell him," Mila said, turning her green eyes on Yuri. "Tell him everything."

  Yuri hesitated, but the longer he did the more dire his sister's expression got, until finally he said, "You know that my quest was given to me to demonstrate my fitness to be chief.

  "What you do not know is that the people who accepted Vlad's challenge befo
re me were not random. They were blood kin. We lost cousins, and both our older brothers. When I was young, the bones were cast, and Vlad told me I was to be chief. I kept this a secret from everyone because it was a destiny I did not want. If I had ... accepted, those lives would have been spared."

  Terry glanced from him to Mila and back before he said, "She found this out just last night?"

  "Yes," Mila answered shortly. "So tell me, Terry, what should I do?"

  Terry tipped his head back and looked up into the blue sky as though searching for answers in the heavens. For most of a full minute, he didn't speak.

  Finally, he looked back down at them and asked, "The bones that were cast ... they were cast for everyone?"

  Mila blinked, glanced at Yuri, then back as she said, "Yes. All of us are given an augury when we are young."

  "Are they always accurate?"

  "In some way," Mila said, clearly uncertain as to the direction of his questions.

  Terry paused, glancing at Yuri with an expression he could only interpret as sympathy. "I've seen a lot of weird things since I got here, guys. Magic, monsters, some really nasty shit. When Vlad talked to me there in the pit, he said I had one of two outcomes waiting for me. Die fast, or go bad."

  He swallowed and shook his head as he said, "I don't know if he cast bones for me or what, but if he did I'm not about to lie down and take it. I make my own way. I think everyone ought to have that chance."

  He met and held Mila's gaze as he said, "You can't help how you feel. But since you're asking me ... I would have done the same thing Yuri did. I lived my whole life trying to beat what everyone thought was my destiny."

  He tapped the blaze of scar tissue above his eyes as he said, "It cost me everything and I'm still trying. I don't believe in fate."

  "You do not understand!" Mila growled. "Template ways are not our ways!"

  "No, they aren't."

  He glanced away as though pondering what to say. When he spoke, his words were subdued.

  "There was one person left that I loved when I died, Mila. My youngest sister. She's still there, surrounded by bad people. I can't be there for her, not ever again. I've lost my chance to help her because when the moment of truth came, I let emotion get the better of me."