A Different Kind of Despair (13 page)

"I'll be going around the back. Raise some
hell in there, Miraj. But most importantly, stay as safe as you
possibly can."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Safety and
charging into the fray don't exactly go hand in hand."

"So make an exception just this once," he
smirked. "After all, who can argue against the word of a
Shaman?"

"You're quite docile today," I noted, leaning
closer. "I liked you better when you fought with me."

"There'll be plenty of time for that
later."

"Two years worth of time."

"Two years and the rest of our very long
lives,"  he corrected me.

Formosa backhanded her son to the side of his
head. "You have a job to do. Take that damned golem and
run."

Marvin snaked around the bend after sharing
his sour expression with me. He stuck his tongue out behind his
mother's back for good measure. I had no idea he was capable of
being so childish. It warmed my heart in the most unexpected
way.

"Now you, Miraj, pay close attention." The
woman motioned to the space before us.

Unlike most everything else, the great double
doors were made of wood. Vines and elegant flowers coiled in line
with its impressive, complex grain. It also smelled sweet to me,
sickeningly so. I wheezed a bit as we stepped closer.

"Everything past these doors is poison, Miraj.
The only ones unaffected are non-fleshy undead, the Crone, and the
Sickly Sisters themselves."

"I'm sorry -Sickly Sisters?"

"Other members of House Astheneia," Formosa
explained. "They're quite worn-looking, covered in scars and burns,
not hard to spot. It's also more than likely that the Crone turned
them into some lesser demons, so take those out first."

"And necromancers?" I asked.

"Nearly all of us have white or gray hair. It
should simplify things. Kill the demons, spare everyone else. I'll
seek out the old hag myself."

"Alright," I said. "I'm ready."

She gave me a curt nod; I tore the
door straight off its hinges.

Formosa was right; the Sickly Sisters were
extremely apparent.

Whatever guise they had before, the Crone's
minions were presently exposed for the monsters they truly were.
Vines, pulsing like human veins, coiled around their bodies. They
had no skin from what I could tell, as these creatures were covered
by muscle tendons in a vaguely female shape.

Wild hair, comprised of dozens of tiny
serpents, hissed on my entrance. Soon the chamber was filled with
the sound of their reptilian rage, drowning out the murmuring of
necromancers in the room.

They'll try to bash their
heads against you,
Koronos warned me; suspicious in
and of itself.
Don't let them.

"And why should I listen to you?"

Unless you would enjoy seeing your limbs
swell to the point of blowing off, then by all means, don't take my
advice.

I swallowed hard as the first Sister charged
forward -as Koronos predicted, she meant to ram me headfirst.

Allow
me
.

Despite being weakened, Koronos knew how to
take advantage of my uncertainty. Unlike Diana, who had asked
permission before using my body, Koronos tore the control right out
of my proverbial hands. I watched in alarm as I turned sideways,
whipping my tail hard against the abdomen of my attacker.

I felt her bones breaking on contact. The
demonic appendage curved so that she flew to the right of me.
Koronos raised my arm, extended a handful of gnarly nails, and tore
deeply into the Crone's minion.

I wasn't a stranger to bloodshed. One
couldn't last a day among the Tribes without seeing tests of
strength or a well-meaning fistfight. I'd hurled spears at boars
and shot a faun with a bow before wrestling it to the ground.

But this was the first time I've fought for
the express purpose of killing. What worried me was that it didn't
feel like the first time at all.

The blood of demons was black, but it felt
hot, comforting. I sensed the entertainment of the devil inside of
me as I twisted my hand deeper into the twitching body, her
shrieking falling on deaf ears. It felt so-

-
addicting,
isn't it?

I didn't have time to respond to his
question as two more Sickly Sisters came at me.

The necromancers were smart, immediately
moving towards the sidelines. Those who were closest to the door
began to trickle out. I caught sight of Formosa as she jumped
between this reality and the Grey, an unstoppable huntress on her
quest to find the Crone.

Koronos tried to wrest control of my body
once again, but this time he didn't have to. My tail was my most
valuable asset. It was strong, quick, and small enough that it
wasn't a worthy target for these monsters. Whip and slash. It was
simple and effective, and I soon realized that I didn't even need
to carve into these women to kill them.

I just hurled their disfigured bodies across
the room. Every crack of a broken bone brought a smile to my
face.

It didn't take long before I turned the
tides, seeking out the Sickly Sisters rather than wait for them to
come to me. I actually hoped they were still alive after I tossed
them into pillars and walls; their steady stream would mean a
consistent high for me.

My reason for being here was getting lost in
the ecstasy I felt. Koronos, strangely enough, was the one
tethering me to my senses.

Restraint, my Lady. It's what separates
beings like us from brutes like them.

I raised my foot off the crushed skull of a
demon below me, realizing for the first time that the few who
remained were twitching fearfully on the ground. This was no longer
a matter of defending myself, but of senselessly tearing them
apart.

"Us?" I breathed, shocked at the smile in my
voice. "I'm nothing like you."

How adorable! Truly, my Lady. As Shaman you
should know this better than anyone; apart from the very beginning,
I didn't resist your control once. Take a look around.

I did as Koronos asked. There wasn't a wall
unmarked by gore. I've seen people die in hunts. There's a lot of
blood, but it just pools beneath them. Bones and bile lay scattered
around me, lost in puddles of ruptured organs and sinew. Koronos
laughed in the back of my mind.

All this was your work. Yours and yours
alone. I couldn't have done a better job myself.

The thought wasn't reassuring.

It's a work of art. Not a masterpiece, not
yet, but you can see passion! Rage. Euphoria. My dear, you are more
a demon than I was the first day I stepped on this earth.

"Shut up," I growled. "No one asked you for
your opinion."

Angry, are we?

"Yes. And unless you stop talking I'll-"

You'll what?

The threat never made it past my lips.
Koronos had cornered me using my own logic. I sensed him
smiling.

Tear me apart? Whip me across the room? Oh
I've seen exactly what you're capable of, sweet Shaman. It's the
reason I'm being so well behaved. You see, most mortals run a
different course from us demons. They need to be coaxed, bribed,
tricked into walking into our schemes. You, on the other hand, are
so like us to begin with. I don't need to do anything for you to
reach that conclusion on your own.

"I'm nothing like you," I whispered
hoarsely, dropping to the ground. Despite my hardest searching, I
wasn't disgusted by the bloodbath around me. It was comforting,
deep, deep down, and I knew it.

Ahh, denial. Let's see… do you want further
proof? Look at yourself. Look at the black blood right in front of
you.

I was smiling, faintly, in relief, as though
I had just scratched a maddening itch. I was covered in shallow
cuts and plenty of bruises, but it was the blood of demons, running
down my skin, that gave me the greatest pause.

I didn't do that.

I squeezed my eyes shut. "Don't say it."

You
did
.

"Who are
you
?"

I looked up, feeling Koronos shrinking back,
like a wounded dog. A ghastly old woman stood on a balcony
overlooking the hall.

When I say "old woman" I use that term
loosely.

An old woman's
skin
hung off this person. She was covered in
saffron flowers. The blossoms were sharp, jagged, and surrounded by
thorns. Her head, like the heads of the Sickly Sisters, was covered
in serpents. And then there were her eyes, golden and deadly,
scourging the scene before her, absorbing every detail to the point
of obsession.

"Are you Mahlah?"

The question no sooner left my mouth than
she appeared before me, sprouting from the blackened blood so
quickly that I barely moved out of the way in time.

"Diana?" she quizzed. "No. I
know
you."

She grabbed my chin in her talon fingers,
emanating such ferocious strength I knew she could crush my head in
her nails alone.

She's gotten
stronger
.

Koronos was taken aback -this was concerning
in and of itself.

Little Shaman, find a way out as soon as you
can. She's not an opponent you can defeat… or I can, for that
matter.

There was a grudging tone to his admission,
one brimming with resentment and a curious brand of respect.

"Koronos!" she exclaimed, a noxious plume of
gas spewing from her mouth. "What are you doing in there?"

Miraj, if you want to live then you need to
let me speak.

The fact that he was using my name instead
of some flowery title cued me into the urgency of this situation. I
prayed that Formosa would find the Eyes soon.

"I took a liking to this girl." My voice was
tinged with an otherworldly snarl. "I caught her wandering the Grey
and decided to have some fun."

"Fun?" asked the Crone. I feared she saw
through the lie, or the half-truth, whatever Koronos wanted to call
it. "You were to keep an eye on Marvin."

"That's where I caught onto a bit of a
snag," he confessed. "Formosa found me first. She made it so I
couldn't leave this body, and therefore, I couldn't inform you of
his whereabouts."

"
Formosa
." The name came out as a snarl. The
Crone released me, pacing through the sea of gore. "Formosa," she
said again, this time in a pleasant fashion. "She's a Shaman
Mother. She was so good at her charade that I'd nearly
forgotten…"

The Crone spun on her padded heel, sneering
in my direction.

"And she's stronger than you, Koronos? You
ought to be ashamed of yourself."

Something sinister bubbled from the demon
within me. His pride was wounded, but there was also a sense of
resolution. The Crone was powerful, but not infallible. She
couldn’t see beyond our masquerade so far.

"No matter. Let's get you out of that pesky
puppet. Playtime is over."

She moved, and Koronos lunged back. Cold
speculation tore across her malformed face.

"I rather like this form," said Koronos. I
felt him scrambling for an excuse. It dawned on me that the Crone
meant to free him by tearing my body to pieces. "It has its… uses.
Do me the favor of allowing me to keep it; after all, Marvin is
already here in Nethermountain. Do you really think he can
escape?"

Something was wrong. The Crone was onto
us.

"Not with my pets wandering its halls," she
admitted, but then she kicked a skull of one of the Sickly Sisters
towards us. "But then there's this. This is excessive, Koronos,
even for a beast like you."

"Formosa bid me to unleash chaos, giving
time for the necromancers to escape House Astheneia."

"Formosa is strong… for a human," the Crone
agreed. "But I never realized she was powerful enough to sway
you."

"Evidently, she couldn't maintain that
control for long," Koronos continued, finding a solution in all of
this. "I stopped, did I not?"

"Hmph." She turned. "Walk with me, Koronos.
You might learn something."

I scrambled after her, walking at nearly
twice my usual speed just to keep up with her long strides.

We seem to have fooled
her… for now
.

The corridors of House Astheneia were
covered in vines and purple nightshade. No surface was devoid of
foliage, to the point where I began to question whether we were
indoors.

The deeper we went the darker it became,
until I spotted a green light at the end of this very dim
tunnel.

We entered a natural cavern, complete with
glowworms and an emerald pool. This was a garden, wild, but well
tended, and so sickly sweet that I felt the human part of me vomit
in the back of my throat. Koronos growled somewhere in my head.

This was the reason the Crone transformed
those women into devilkin. The air here is too toxic for your kind
to survive. You should be alright for a time, since we're bound
together like this, but know that your ability to keep us fused
won't last nearly as long.

Cold sweat trickled down the sides of my
face. The Crone led us to a massive flower.

Unlike the garden around us, this plant
reeked of death -and was curiously pleasant as a result. It was the
largest single flower I'd ever seen, with each of its five spotted
petals twice the size of my hand.

While I was preoccupied with the plant,
Koronos was more concerned about what was kept inside its
hollow.

"The Eyes of the Leviathan," he said through
my mouth, to which the Crone grinned, revealing her curved set of
teeth.