The City of Pillars (27 page)

“What’s the plan?” asked Andrasta.

“Khalil is warding several cobbles. If we hit the majun with them, it may weaken him enough for us to slip by.”

Andrasta shook her head. “I doubt it. It’s feeding off the red star light. Don’t we have any containers to throw on top of it? Wouldn’t the wards suck the creature inside?”

“Yes, but we’ve got nothing like that available.”

“What about warding a shirt or piece of cloth?” she asked while peeking outside to witness the majun’s flames tear into several fleeing ghuls.

“Clothes are poor vessels. It will never work,” said Khalil.

“As permanent vessels, no. But we just need something temporary for now. Rondel warded his clothes and it injured the djinn we faced in Hegra before I could trap it. Ward something to throw over the majun’s head that would block out the red light. Then while it’s weak, we can try to trap it with your helm,” she said, nodding to Melek.

“My helm is not sealed completely.”

“It will be if laid flat on the cobbles and more cloth is packed around it. Again, it is only temporary.” She turned to Khalil.

“It’s a good idea,” said Khalil while continuing to ward cobbles at a furious pace. “However, I don’t have time to ward both the cloth and the helm.”

“I’ll buy you time.” She jammed her sword tip into the cobbles and pried several up. “I’ll need these though.”

“I’ll come too,” said Melek.

“No,” said Andrasta. “I know from Rondel you don’t need to be a sorcerer to draw basic wards. Help Khalil. I’ll find someone else to come with me.”

She scooped up the four cobbles, cradling them in one arm. She ignored the plea from Melek to wait and dashed across the open space to a pillar on the opposite side of the path. A line of flame followed, missing her by inches as she took cover.

The majun teased. “Ah, you’re back. Good. I just killed the last of the ghuls. Time to stop hiding though. I’m growing bored.”

Andrasta ignored the voice and looked to Omar. The man beside him bore burn marks on both arms and chest. Still, his sword remained in his hand.

She placed two stones at Omar’s feet. “These will hurt the majun. I need you to help me buy Melek and Khalil time.”

Omar scowled. He still had no love for her, yet, he picked up one of the stones and sheathed his sword.

“Try to get behind it while I distract it. Then attack it with the stones. Maybe we can get it to turn its back to Khalil.”

She looked away without waiting for a response. Peering around the pillar, she called to the smoky body floating above the ground. “I’m ready,” she shouted. “But I thought you’d at least be interested in something challenging. Especially, if you’re as powerful as you say you are.”

The majun cackled. “I’ll humor you.” His flames died down. “What do you have in mind?”

Andrasta flicked her gaze to Melek and Khalil as the two frantically drew wards on an old shirt and Melek’s helm.

She carefully stepped away from the pillar. Exposed, she carried a warded cobble in each hand. The majun seemed actually interested in what she had to say.

What do you know . . . Rondel was right. Talking sometimes is the best approach.

She took a few steps forward. “Well, I say we test ourselves with speed. On the count of three, we attack. You with fire. Me with rock. The one who strikes their opponent first is declared the victor.”

“That is a stupid idea.”

It was a stupid idea, but Andrasta couldn’t admit that because it was all she had.

Just keep him talking.

“No. It’s about honor.”

The majun gestured to the piles of blackened bodies. “Does it look like I have honor?”

“No. But now might be a good time to start working on some.”

The majun laughed again. “I like you.”

The creature’s right arm came up without warning. Flame erupted from its smoking hand. Andrasta rolled away from the attack, tossing one of the cobbles at the creature underhanded. As she expected, the majun had such confidence in its power it didn’t bother dodging the assault.

It wailed as the stone struck its smoky torso and came out its back, clacking to the ground. The wards on the stone glowed brightly.

“An absorption ward. Impressive. But, not enough.”

Both hands of the majun came up. One released a steady stream of flame, while the other loosed more than a dozen fire balls in rapid succession. Andrasta rolled, jumped, ducked, and dodged to avoid the attacks.

She paused and took a breath when the majun ceased his attack and wailed. A glowing stone rested at the creature’s base. The majun turned and faced Omar who gripped his other stone. The creature spread its arms, one aimed at her, the other at Omar. Fire spouted from each limb with reckless abandon.

Andrasta darted around the space, climbing over lifeless bodies and ducking behind one of the stone pillars that flanked the path. Eventually she managed to find enough protection to throw the last of her stones without risking exposure. It struck the majun in the back of the head. The creature wheeled. A ragged-looking Omar flung his second stone. It also found its mark.

Two successive strikes hurt the majun enough to drop it to its knees. However, it quickly began to replenish its power, and rose on spurts of fire spitting through tears in its smoke-formed body.

She swore.

Crap. Just like the one in Hegra.

She drew her sword despite its uselessness. It wouldn’t stop fire, but she’d rather die with a blade in her hand than without.

The majun continued to swell with power, eyes turning a bright red.

A half dozen glowing cobblestones struck the earth. The majun’s legs buckled. He shouted in rage while diminishing in size. The majun staggered, exposing two Host members behind it. The two tossed several more of the warded stones. The majun shrunk again while slinging curses.

Andrasta closed on the majun and began taunting it, squeezing out more time for Khalil and Melek who came up quickly. A spout of fire flashed before her eyes. She threw herself backward and hit the ground hard, temporarily blinded by the light.

She rubbed her eyes with a free hand and slowly rose. Blurry vision began to clear. Melek and Khalil wrestled the majun with cloth and helm, gathering the creature up in its temporary prison.

The creature saw her. “You!”

Flames exited the slowly descending helm. Something slammed into her and she was back on the ground.

A wet thud followed.

On hands and knees Andrasta watched Omar’s body burn at the base of a pillar. Half his head was caved in from striking the pillar after taking the brunt of the majun’s last attack. The man had saved her life and died in the process.

And I could not even give you my thanks. I misjudged you.

Khalil secured the helm against the cobble path, drawing more wards on it and the stones nearby.

Melek stared at his lieutenant, unable to hide his sorrow. He looked at the other two surviving Host members, then to Khalil and Andrasta. She could almost read his thoughts.

Is it enough?

Thinking of Rondel, she stood and grabbed her sword.

It has to be.

She took off down the path. Nothing needed to be said. Footsteps followed behind her.

CHAPTER 24

Rondel watched Athar place the still body of his son face down on the altar beside Nasnas. The ghul raised his hands toward the sky and began chanting in a low drone. The red light grew more concentrated, going from a bright ruby to a dark crimson. Sounds of fighting and human shouts, likely of the surviving members of the Host, continued to ring out nearby.

He ignored it all as he dragged himself toward Shadya. He already lost a son. He didn’t want to lose her too.

Rondel reached her and paled.

Both of Shadya’s eyes were open, her breathing shallow. She held her hands tight against her stomach where their child had once been.

“Shadya, I—” he started while reaching toward her wound. He was not a professional healer, but he hoped that he could recall enough knowledge from his past to do something.

“The sword was warded. It had my name on it. I don’t have much time.”

“But I—”

“Hold your hands out. Hurry.”

Confused, Rondel obeyed.

She turned slightly to reposition her body, eyes rolling up in pain. She bit her lip while removing one hand from her wound. She began tracing her fingers over the tops of his hands, then his palms and fingers.

The blood acted as ink. Wards quickly took shape on Rondel’s skin. She finished drawing, grabbed both of his hands in hers, and muttered something in the first tongue. His skin felt warm as the wards glowed.

“Good,” she said, still holding his hands. “It’s done.”

“What’s done?”

“It’s the only way to defeat him.” Her grip weakened.

“Wait. Fight it, Shadya.”

She smiled. “Nasnas betrayed me. Now I know how you felt with my lies. I’m so sorry. Please, save our son’s soul.”

Her hands went limp as she breathed her last.

Rondel’s eyes stung. His entire body trembled. He stared into the lifeless face of the mother of his now dead child. Never in his life had he felt such sorrow and such anger at once.

Athar finished his incantation. The top of the altar radiated. The light blinded him and the concentration of power pressed down on him.

“It begins,” said Athar. He stepped away and turned his attention to Rondel. His eyes flicked to Shadya’s body then back to him. A grin crawled across his face. “So, you cared after all. And I told her she was just wasting time with you.”

Rondel balled his hands into fists. “I’m going to make you hurt.”

“Please, try. I enjoy it when my dinner puts up a fight.”

Rondel ignored the pain in his leg and forced himself to stand. He took his first hobbled step forward. Athar’s smile widened. The ghul opened his mouth to speak, but wheeled to the entrance of the innermost layer as a dozen ghuls retreated into the space, frightened and gibbering.

They shouted something about the majun killing everyone in its path, human and ghul alike.

Athar sneered. “It will be punished after the ritual is complete.” He glanced to the altar where the crimson glow increased. “So long as the Host has been destroyed, it doesn’t matter.”

The ghuls looked around nervously.

Athar’s mouth twisted. “Well, have they?”

“We . . . left before their fates had been decided,” said one. “And there was still fighting until a few moments ago when it stopped altogether.”

Athar cursed each of them. Rondel pressed forward, closing the distance while the ghul was distracted. Hands still in fists, he became aware of Shadya’s last words.

She gave me the power to stop him.

Athar didn’t notice Rondel’s approach until his fingers closed around the ghul’s arms. Athar turned, and with a flick, broke his grasp like it was nothing. A back hand sent him sprawling once more.

Gods, I’m getting sick of being everyone’s whipping boy.

His head swam again and though his anger remained, he could not get his eyes to focus.

He opened and closed his hands, confused by the ineffectiveness of Shadya’s wards.
Now what?

* * *

Melek entered the altar’s circle and his stomach sank. The ivory altar glowed crimson light. Nasnas lay face-down upon it. A tiny body, that of a baby, had begun melding itself to the half-god, attached at the head and shoulder.

Too late?

The surviving ghuls attacked. As he engaged the first snarling beast, he told himself he hadn’t failed yet. Nasnas still lay on the altar, which meant the ritual was incomplete.

He silently asked Hubul for forgiveness and strength.

He fought with renewed focus, shearing half a jaw off a hyena-shaped ghul. A stab through the chest finished the beast. He moved to another. The rest of the Host found similar success.

Then the air grew thick and his arms felt heavy.

He looked to the altar as Nasnas rose. The god wore the Mask of Halves and the infant half of its new body dangled precariously from the shoulder. Shortened limbs and smooth skin stretched and pulled to match the fully developed half of Hubul’s son. The new half slowly incorporated itself into Nasnas with each passing moment.

Beams of red light flew out of Nasnas’s adult hand. The power engulfed one of the Host, instantly killing him. Hubul’s son took aim at Andrasta next. Melek moved to help her when two ghuls jumped in his path. He swore and slashed viciously at the creatures. Red light poured out of Nasnas’s hands and Melek’s stomach dropped. Khalil stepped in front of the light, and Nasnas’s attack ran into an invisible shield. The old sorcerer bowed under the power of the half-god, yet he did not break.

Hold on, Khalil.

Melek barreled toward Nasnas, knowing that he’d need to engage the half-god to relieve Khalil.

However, ghuls once again leaped at him.

* * *

It took a moment for Andrasta to get her bearings as the Nasnas rose from the altar. She didn’t think anything about him could shock her after fighting the half bodied deity. However, seeing what looked like an infant stretch and twist as it fused to the half-god froze her in her tracks. Even Master Enzi’s training had not prepared her for such an image.

Nasnas spotted her and raised his arm. She swore at her momentary lapse in battle discipline and dove to the left as a beam of red light exited Nasnas’s extended hand.

She struck sand, but felt nothing other than the impact with the ground. Khalil stood between them, fending off Nasnas’s attack, bowing under the sorcery.

She grit her teeth and rose quickly to not only aid the sorcerer, but also settle her score with Nasnas.

But before she could attack, a human-shaped ghul stepped into her path. She knew it was a ghul because it took the form of a Host member that Rondel had killed at the oasis. The creature’s eyes narrowed, sneering as it raised a bloody sword adorned with sparking wards.

Something seemed strangely familiar about the look the ghul wore. Her mind clicked. “Athar,” she said.

The ghul grinned. “Yes. I’m going to enjoy this.”

“So am I.”

She rushed forward and closed the distance between them. Her sword swept down and Athar’s blurred up. The blades crashed, shaking her limbs as sparks flew. The jolt threw her back several feet.

Athar pressed before she could fully regain her balance. His weapon moved with startling speed, the blade glowing with each stab, thrust, or slash. Andrasta managed to deflect each of the attacks but in doing so, felt herself weaken as if Athar’s sword drained her strength.

“You feel it don’t you,” said Athar, as the blade came down again. “With this sword, I cannot be stopped.”

Good to know.

She stopped trying to deflect and counter Athar’s attacks, instead dodging and twisting away so the blade struck empty air or the ground at their feet. Some of her strength returned.

Obviously frustrated, the ghul began muttering in a guttural tongue.

She laughed. “You were better as a camel.”

Athar yelled and lost his composure. Andrasta rolled, and ducked under several wild attacks while drawing her dagger. She threw it underhand and the blade sunk into Athar’s gut. He lost his grip on his weapon at the jolt and dropped to his knees.

Andrasta took his head off with a satisfying swipe.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she spotted Rondel on hands and knees and shouted his name.

He’s still alive, but hurt badly.

Her heart beat faster as she moved toward him. More ghuls stepped into her path.

* * *

Rondel blinked his eyes with chaos all around him. His mind cleared when he heard someone shouting his name.

He tried to sit up, but a bout of dizziness took him. He fell to his elbows. Blood trickled down his busted nose.

Gods, I must really be hurt this time. I could have sworn I heard Andrasta’s voice.

He looked at the wards on his hands in confusion.

They didn’t work. Why? Did she make a mistake?
He rubbed at the wards. Beneath Shadya’s dried blood, the patterns stained his hands.
Or did I not understand what she meant?

“Rondel!”

Rondel lifted his head. Dizziness washed over him again. Bile crept into his throat.

Another concussion? It’s amazing I even remember my name. Wait. That was Andrasta.

His spirit lifted as the dizziness faded. Andrasta’s statuesque form took off the front limbs of a hyena-shaped ghul.

She is alive!

Her eyes met his and then flicked to the right. He followed her gaze.

Nasnas stood beside the altar. Balanced on one leg, he still wore the Mask of Halves. No longer was he half a man. The left side of his body had begun to incorporate what had been his son. The half-god redirected a beam of red light through its outstretched palm. It hurtled toward an older member of the Host, but struck an invisible barrier with an echoing thud that rang Rondel’s ears.

The old man stood his ground against the initial impact, but then went to his knees. It seemed as though the two had been fighting for some time. Someone shouted the name “Khalil!” in desperation. A man attempted to aid the sorcerer, but was cut off by ghuls.

Andrasta sliced through the chest of a large hyena. She stepped toward Nasnas when another of the beasts tackled her from behind. Rondel moved to help, but stopped.

“Forget about me. Get Nasnas!” she shouted.

Rondel opened his mouth to protest. He thought he had lost Andrasta once. He wouldn’t allow it to happen again.

A pained scream came from the old sorcerer.

The red beam from Nasnas had grown wider and brighter. Rondel noticed the newer side of the fallen god’s body had continued to grow in the few short moments that had passed.

He’s getting stronger.

The old sorcerer’s defenses gave way and the man disintegrated. Shouts from other Host members joined the death throes of the old man.

He thought about what Shadya had told him.

While Nasnas lives, the soul of our son suffers.

Anger cleared his mind.

He half ran, half hobbled toward Nasnas. The god faced him and casually raised a hand. The same beam of red light raced toward him. He raised his own hands in defense. The attack dissipated.

What? No pain. How am I even alive?

Nasnas looked at his hand in what Rondel imagined was confusion. The god attacked again. Then again. Rondel defended each assault.

A mild warmth permeated through his hands and into his lower arms. Rondel smiled, remembering what Shadya had told him.

She must have meant that these wards only work on him.

He didn’t know how Shadya had created wards powerful enough to have any affect over a god, but he didn’t care.

He ran at Nasnas while he hopped backward, continually trying to blast Rondel.

Rondel leaped. With arms extended, he struck the god’s chest with his palm. They both fell, Rondel on top.

He ignored the god’s gruesome half that melded with the body of his son and swung his fists wildly at Nasnas’s adult form, striking the god in the chest, neck, and masked face. Nasnas grunted beneath each blow.

Nasnas made an effort to push him off with his strong hand while swinging wildly with the growing arm of his new half. Rondel caught the strong arm with his hand, causing the golden skin of Nasnas to sear. He moved up so that his knee pinned the forming arm to the ground.

The god cried out.

Rondel laid his free hand on the god’s chest. The smell of burned flesh rose up. Something so sickening, never smelled so sweet. He looked at the Mask of Halves and saw Nasnas’s one eye clenched shut in pain.

Rondel moved his hand from Nasnas’s chest to the lip of the mask. He began to pry, but it seemed as though it had been glued to the god’s face. He yanked harder. Nasnas bellowed in anguish, speaking to Rondel in the first language while trying to fight back.

The god bucked his torso. Still, Rondel pulled.

Nasnas finally freed his hand from Rondel’s grasp and managed to strike him in the shoulder. Something popped at the joint as Rondel went flying again. The mutilated body of a ghul broke his fall.

Nasnas pulled himself up to his foot as the limbs on the other half of his body flailed. The god’s balance was off as his first hop toward Rondel ended with him dropping to a knee.

Rondel began to chuckle at the sight, delirious with exhaustion and pain. The torn skin of Nasnas’s face made him laugh harder. “I bet that hurt, didn’t it.” He raised his hand which still clutched the Mask of Halves. “Is this what you have your
eye
on? Do you need a
hand
getting back to your
foot?”

“Give it to me!” Nasnas bellowed, using the Erban tongue for the first time.

The power in the god’s words beat against Rondel like a whirlwind. Still, any fear he had once felt for Nasnas left at Shadya’s death. Only anger remained. Rondel spat. “Come and get it! You know what happens when I touch you.”

“No one said I needed to get close.” The god grabbed a nearby sword by the blade, holding it like a throwing knife. He pulled his massive arm back.

Crap. He’s got me there.