Shylldra

Shylldra had never screamed like that in her entire life.

It should have killed her. That shrill, piercing shriek should have called the giganotosaur to her, and there would have been nothing she could have done about it but throw the microraptor aside and hope it got away as the Fang devoured her. But the scream had a will of its own, bursting from her throat when she saw it eat Hallek. And then impossibly, miraculously, he was alright. Covered in blood, but if one of the most powerful hunters in all creation just ate you coming back covered in blood counts as alright. And then even more impossibly he killed it. Maia taught to take no joy in death, but after the crushing terror of the giganotosaur's presence she couldn't help but feel a rush of elation to go along with her relief when the dinosaur fell.

And then Hallek started screaming.

The giganotosaur wasn't dead yet, just dying. It still twitched and struggled, tiny dying movements that could still crush or slash her. She ducked under them and ran into the growing lake of blood seeping from the dinosaur's neck, filling every cranny and depression in the ground. And in the deepest part of it was Hallek.

She saw what had happened immediately. The runes on the sword blade glowed a furious orange even through the blood still spraying across Hallek and the blade. A fresh infusion, still raw with power. And a powerful infusion. A Fang's soul trapped in its own child's bone, quenched by the hand that killed it? It might be the most powerful infusion since Milkaamek's Axe. And any infusion strained the body, took power from the infuser. But what made Hallek scream in agony were the deep slices all over his arms and legs and side and chest. They were glowing orange too, with the same eerie light as the runes on the sword.

He infused himself. The same blood in all those wounds at the moment the soul was captured...

She splashed through the blood and tried to take the sword from Hallek but a glowing cloud of light burst from it, snapping at her fingers. The same way Dakkareg had warned Lekarik away from Milkaamek's Axe.

“Okay,” Shylldra panted. “Okay. Hold onto the sword, but you can't stay here like this.”

She grabbed hum under his arms and dragged him away from the body. If the ground had been dry she never would have made it, but the blood had turned the dirt to mud and she slid Hallek away from the dying predator. The slick ground gave out just before her arms did, and she dropped Hallek on the ground and collapsed beside him in the dirt.

“Now what?” she asked, looking up at the stars. They said the gods were up there somewhere, though she didn't know who might decide to answer. Maia had already been more help than Shylldra could ever thank her for and she couldn't think of any other god who might be interested. The Living Spirits of Huma and Saurus maybe, but they granted favors of luck and strength. She figured Hallek had already used his share for the next twenty years.

I could have died, she realized. Hallek and the sword are connected, what if the giganotosaurus objected to me touching him too? But it hadn't, and while Hallek was still hurt he wasn't twitching and screaming anymore, so Shylldra took one precious moment to catch her breath.

When she opened her eyes it was daylight.

Lekarik

The roar shook the palace. It echoed down every hallway, it rattled every door. Tables shook and dropped their burdens. The animals in the pens jerked awake. And then the roar came again, and again, something huge and powerful bellowing in rage.

Emperor Lekarik rolled out of bed. This was difficult because he was sleeping on a large cushion with four of his concubines. He finally untangled himself from the knot of flesh and limbs and pulled on a robe, storming out of the bedroom.

“What is going on?” He demanded of the guards outside.

“No idea lord emperor. But maybe you should stay there until we know what...”

“Screw that,” Lekarik pushed past the guards. “I've got a bed and wine and concubines in there and I can't enjoy any of them with all the noise.”

His guards insisted on coming along with him but you didn't tell the emperor where they could and couldn't go. Lekarik was glad they remembered it. He followed the noise until he reached the throne room. There, on a stand in front of the throne, was Milkaamek's Axe, the roars vibrating from within the bone itself. The guards eyed it warily. They all knew what happened if anyone but the emperor touched the Axe.

Footsteps behind him heralded Gwarruf's arrival. A few paces behind him came Gylldrianna. He was glad to see them. Somehow Gylldrianna had a way of putting everything in perspective for him. It was like talking to her made him come up with even better ideas than the ones he'd started with when they sat down. And while she was much older than he usually preferred her body was still ripe and luscious under those dresses she always wore. Marrying a woman and her daughter was almost unheard of, but maybe after Shylldra was dead...

“My emperor!” Gwarruf said. “Maybe you should return...”

“I'm not going anywhere,” Lekarik said. “I'm tired of this damn thing's complaining. What in the hells is wrong with it?”

“I don't know. It's astounding. Unprecedented. That sounds almost like a challenge roar. Like its telling a rival to fight or leave its territory.”

“What's its territory?” Gylldrianna asked. “The palace? The empire? There are plenty of Tyrannosaurs living in the empire.”

“And there have been thousands over the years. I can't for the life of me think what Dakkareg's soul would consider a rival after all this time.”

Lekarik glared at the Axe. In other realms rulers could take power without having to appease an ancient glorified soup bone. He didn't even like axes. Oh he'd trained with them but swords were just so more elegant. And where did this fifteen hundred year old relic get off telling himhe wasn't worthy to be emperor? What gave it the right?

The only answer was another deafening roar.

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“That's it!” Lekarik said, stepping forwards. “I'm tired of this!”

“Your majesty please be careful!” one of the guards said, nursing an injured arm. Lekarik hadn't even noticed him before. “I got to close and it attacked me! It's not acting normal!”

“I'll be fine!” Lekarik said, not taking his eyes off the Axe. “Your concern is appreciated, but I'm the emperor! The blood of Milkaamek flows in my veins! It is my Axe, and I will make it behave!”

There, that sounded suitably...imperial. He didn't bother to look back at his advisers. He could see the looks on their face already. He could even hear Gylldrianna's quip, the one about the blood of Milkaamek flowing all over the floor. She'd wait until they were alone to say it, but he was sure it was already on the tip of her tongue.

Really, they had no confidence in him sometimes.

Lekarik strode up the stone steps and gripped the handle of the Axe.

Now listen to me you ancient overbearing asshole, he thought to the soul within the weapon. I've had enough of this! I am the emperor, you are the stick. You will not presume to judge me just because fifteen hundred years of old men have used you as a cane! You will obey my commands. You will show me some respect. And most of all, you will shut up and let us all get back to sleep. Do you understand?

There was no reply, but neither did the Axe reach out and slash him. Lekarik lifted the Axe triumphantly in the air and turned back to the room. Yep, there are the expressions, Lekarik thought, letting his eyes fall on his advisors. But look, it's not biting! I've finally got control of the miserable thing!

There was a flash of green light and something tore across his chest. He thought he screamed, but the roar from the Axe was drowning him out as his knees buckled and he went down in a pool of his own blood. He dropped the Axe and watched it skitter across the floor as guards suddenly surrounded him. Muffled voices. One or two clearer than the others,

“Oh gods tell me he's not dead.” Gylldrianna.

“No, no I think...I don't think he's that badly hurt.”

I can't agree with you there, Gwarruf, Lekarik thought as the guards lifted him up and hurried him off into the palace.

It was still dark outside when he woke up. He'd slept a few hours. The healers had come to tell him that he would be fine, there would just be a few scars.

Scars. Scarsacross his perfect chest. The chest he'd been carefully sculpting since adolescence, the hairless stage upon which he'd played a thousand dramas, each louder than the last. It had lured in some of the most beautiful women in the empire and if it had been scratched before, well, fingernails didn't leave much lasting damage.

Lekarik was really starting to hate that Axe. It had been sneering at him ever since the council named him emperor. Fat old men who thought they could push him around, get their own way all the time. Especially that Jajess. He was up to something Lekarik knew it. And now he was probably going to get it, because Lekarik was going to die. The Axe had killed him. The wounds on his chest were nothing compared to what would happen when the rumor mill seeped its poison across the empire. Now everyone knew. Knew the Axe had rejected their emperor. And they would all ask if that's true, is he any kind of emperor at all?

“Yes gods dammit!” he snarled to the empty room, beating the pillowy mattress with his fists. “YES I AM THE EMPEROR!”

“And no sane man truly doubts it,” someone in the room with him said. The voice was so polite Lekarik wasn't even startled, just thoroughly confused. One of the shadows in the corner unfolded to reveal Master Infuser Dalluth curled up in his leather hood and robes. He bowed respectfully.

“Dalluth?” Lekarik said. “What...what are you doing here?”

“There aren't many places I can't get to,” Dalluth said mysteriously. “I have come with a proposition. The kind it’sbetter to make in private. Because while you are god's chosen emperor, you are too weak to wield the Axe.”

Lekarik's fists clenched on the blankets. How dare he? How dare the common born little rat say that to him? Except of course it was true. And if Dalluth was offering something, if Dalluth had an idea, it was worth it to listen right?

“I know,” Lekarik admitted.

“But you couldbe. Can I tell you a story, your majesty? I promise it's connected.”

“Please,” Lekarik said, intensely curious.

“I was born a feeble, sickly child. My limbs would shake, I had no bulk. My shoulders were just slightly off kilter. My right was higher than my left. My legs were not attached correctly, and when I walked I staggered like a drunk. I wasn't good for much in a small farming village but my sickness made me want to be a healer, to help other people like me. So I studied. I collected hundreds of books. And in some of the old ones I learned about things that are...less common, now.”

“Body infusion. That's a good way to die. Or turn into a monster.”

“Not if you're careful. The scarred men do a small version every day. Some places they do it for religion. Some warriors do it to try and become stronger. Many even succeed. But it's always been too risky for treating the sick...until now.”

Dalluth pulled off his hood and Lekarik flinched, prepared for a horror, but under the leather was the face of a young man, pretty almost to the point of beautiful with skin unnaturally pale and a triangle of glittering scales across his forehead down to where his eyebrows should be. The scales caught the light and made it a rainbow playing across his skin.

“I was able to preserve my hair,” Dalluth said, and Lekarik saw his mouth was full of fangs. “But there were some changes to me I did not expect. But as you can see, I walk straight and tall. My limbs don't shake. And with my steady hands I can create wonders.”

Lekarik looked at Dalluth's beautiful, shimmering face.

“Why do you cover up? The scales would raise questions, but nothing you couldn't explain away.”

“Another complication. This one I knew about and accepted when I performed the treatment. To fix my deformities I had to accept very thin, light skin. I can't stand exposure to sunlight for very long, your majesty. But overall I was successful.

“I won't lie. There would be physical changes to you as well. Similar to my scales. But you would remain largely the same, and in the end...”

“I could hold the Axe.”

“You could hold the Axe.”

A good bargainer would have hidden how deeply he was interested in Dalluth's offer. Lekarik wasn't a very good bargainer and besides, he wanted it too badly. He remembered how it felt holding up the Axe. He thought of how his reign would crumble once the word got out. And he felt a deep, hungering need for whatever Dalluth was offering.

“And what would you expect from a grateful emperor?”

“A laboratory all my own. Equipped with whatever I want, to continue my work. And of course, bed and food in the palace and a place at court.”

“Of course,” Lekarik laughed. “Well, you'll be pleased to know Master Dalluth I've decided not to have you executed out of hand. I assume you can leave the way you entered?”

“I can,” Dalluth bowed, waving his claws. “These gloves are infused to grant the wearer exceptional climbing ability. My first attempt at a masterwork.”

“Then do so,” Lekarik said. “I will consider your offer.”

Dalluth bowed again before lizard climbing up the wall and disappearing between two statues. Lekarik leaned back in bed and cracked his knuckles. He refused to be dictated to by a mere Master Infuser...but deep down he knew he would be accepting Dalluth's offer.

Dalluth

Dalluth knew it too.

He hurried back to his room as fast as he could go without drawing too much attention, elation bubbling in his chest. That had gone far better than he'd hoped. He'd been worried the story wasn't good enough, but apparently it was good enough for the emperor. And once he had his laboratory...

Dalluth's face was beginning to itch. He had to get away from people. Now.

He reached the door of his room and slipped inside, throwing back the hood and regarding himself in a mirror. It was a handsome face, unfortunately it was starting to ooze off of him again. He grabbed the hair and yanked it off, revealing the gory nightmare his head and body had become. He dropped the damp mask into a box and closed the lid.

Not long enough, Dalluth said. I don't know when I could get caught out. I need it to last longer! I guess I'll have to make another one.

He looked over to the corner of the room, where another trunk held his secret materials.

Oh well. I can make a few attempts. After all, I've still got most of the servant girl's corpse left to work with.