Nebamon barked out orders in his incomprehensible language as he pointed at the spine-backed lizards blocking their retreat. Bel saw her captors split into two groups, one to deal with the lizards and the other to deal with the inquisitor and the patchwork giant. The ones who were nearest to the two powerhouses backed away until they had formed a rough semicircle of weapons.
The guard pinning Bel to the ground finally got off of her back to join the semicircle. She hoped that he died first.
Bel didn’t get up immediately, happy to be out of everyone’s line of sight for the moment as she planned her escape. She glanced at the guard who had been ripped in half and tossed through the air like an old shirt – yes, going unnoticed was fine. She would just observe things and hope that an opportunity to get the hell out would arrive.
Rikja stepped back to take command of the rear group facing the lizards. Bel thought that was a good call; it was unlikely that her flames would seriously hurt the inquisitor or the patchwork human, but against a crowd of lizards she might actually be effective. Bel searched the ground for a nicely sized rock. If Rikja cleared a path Bel would smash the rock into the fire mage’s head on her way out.
The temperamental fire mage drew a block of metal from her pocket and slammed an orb of fire into it. Bel watched in fascination as the metal absorbed the flame; an instant later it gained an ethereal glow, like one of Olympos’ moons. Rikja didn’t hesitate to begin pulsing sparking globs of metal molten metal into the crush of lizards.
The rest of the fighters readied their swords and spears, their backs rigid with tension. Nebamon’s tail was straight and unmoving. Bel took some satisfaction in the clear signs of stress and fear in her captors.
Good. I hope he pisses his pants.
She also hoped that he put up enough of a fight to keep Technis’ forces busy.
She surveyed the area for any possible hiding places – even a crevice high enough off that ground to be out of sight would be perfect. The shadows from everyone’s headlamps and Rikja’s fire were bouncing around wildly, but the glow from the Barrier was a stable, if relatively dim, glow. Her view from the ground wasn’t fantastic, but she could see well enough. There was nothing: the smooth walls of the tunnel curved inwards as they rose, without any naturally formed crevices or alcoves that she would see.
The fight began in earnest while she was cursing her luck.
Nebamon darted forward, his sword held in front of him as though he intended to run straight through his target. He was joined by a lightly armored man with a parrying dagger and a short sword as the two of them went straight for the inquisitor. Bel thought that they must have assumed that the man as the physically weaker of the two and intended to put a quick end to him before turning their focus on the giant.
Bel knew better. If she hadn’t already known that these people really were outsiders to Satrap, their focus on fighting the inquisitor rather than fleeing would have shown it to be true. Everyone knew that crossing an inquisitor was as foolish as trying to swim with an anchor.
The inquisitor didn’t move, clearly unconcerned, instead leaving the response to the giant. Despite its apparent bulk, the patchwork giant – named Klang by the inquisitor – moved faster than a bird in flight. Klang deflected Nebamon’s sword stroke with a casual backhand from its gauntleted fist several strides short of the inquisitor.
Then the giant threw a series of lightning fast jabs at Nebamon. The swordsman was forced away by the reach of the patchwork human’s disturbingly long, double-jointed arms.
The other man, in a show of immense foolhardiness, circled around Klang and got within a couple of steps of the inquisitor. A twitch of the cloaked man’s fingers sent out a blast of percussive force. The center of the man ceased to be, and the remaining chunks of flesh that were once his body went flying in Bel’s direction.
She shrank back as the hunks of meat and bone slapped into the rocky floor. Blood and viscera sprayed about like water from a whale’s blowhole, covering everyone within a ten stride radius. Bel’s mind balked; the sheer force that the inquisitor had just displayed, and the speed and ease of it… she was screwed.
Hiding wasn’t sufficient. No, with that kind of power, the inquisitor and Klang could go straight through rock to reach her. Even if they couldn’t find her, they could just pulverize the entire tunnel. No, running – running was the only way. A lot of running.
Her shock distracted her, but her attention was snapped back as someone stumbled past her. It was another fighter, his face slack with surprise and a ragged gash opened across his chest. Bel leapt back and pressed herself up against the cave wall. She needed to be on her feet. She needed to get away from all of this. Doing something risky was clearly better than certain doom, and running through the wall of lizards was looking like a better choice than she’d first thought. Remaining anywhere close to Technis’ more capable servants would be suicide.
She glanced at the giant and saw that he’d revealed a whip-like tail, long and sinuous as it waved behind him. The appendage was covered in spikes, similar to the spines of the lizards. In fact, Bel suspected that the tail may have originally belonged to a particularly robust specimen. The tail flicked out and slashed one of the surrounding guards across his arm. The wound seemed shallow, but a moment later the wounded man began stumbling around, foam forming around his mouth.
Spiny lizards can’t do that.
Bel chewed her lower lip as she waited for Rikja to throw a few more of her burning globs of molten death; that would momentarily clear some of the lizards. She would take advantage of that moment to run straight through the spine-backed lizards. She hoped that they were as slow as they looked – and that one of Technis’ overzealous patchwork crafters hadn’t added poison to their spines as well.
She glanced at the fire mage and was almost immediately blinded by a bright flash. Bel blinked desperately, hoping that the lizards would be mostly cleared by the time she could see again. As the afterimage from the flash faded, she saw that many of the lizards had their downy back’s singed. Their injuries were only superficial, and their pause only momentary.
The patchwork creatures resumed their coordinated advance after a single breath. In just a few heartbeats they overwhelmed one of the rearguard. One of the creatures wrapped a pair of unnaturally elongated arms around the man’s ankles and tripped him to the floor – he was dead midscream, before any of his allies could help.
Bel froze at the sight. The lizards were more dangerous than she’d thought. If she tried to run through that…
Her head whipped back to the other battle. Nebamon cursed as the giant caught his sword in one gauntleted fist. Klang inexorably pulled the frantic man forward into range of its massive fists.
Nebamon crashed to the ground, disarmed and dazed from a heavy blow to his chest. A surge of fighters jumped to his defense, and for a moment they pushed the giant back with their combined ferocity. Then the spined tail darted like a whip, catching one person in the side. The woman screamed in agony before falling to the ground, her limbs twitching madly.
Time to run, Bel thought to herself. Any action is better than no action.
Bel turned, only to see Rikja right behind her.
The woman grinned viciously as she spun her fist into Bel’s jaw, knocking the young gorgon down.
Adrenaline surged through her body, but she was dazed and addled. Her snakes wandered aimlessly through the air as she slowly pushed herself back to her feet. She shook her head, fighting off the stars in her vision, and looked up–
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Only to see Rikja coming for her again. The fire mage had grabbed Nebamon, and tugged him away from the battle. That left her a free hand, which she was winding up for another punch to Bel’s face.
The young gorgon stumbled backwards and onto her injured ankle, sending her sprawling onto the cave floor yet again. The fire mage spit at her as she went past, cursing something in her own language that Bel couldn’t understand. She didn’t need to understand it – Rikja clearly meant for her to die.
The pair dove straight into the horde of lizards, abandoning the rest of their company as they blazed a trail that immediately filled with more lizards.
Bel stumbled to her feet once more. Her head was ringing and her steps wobbled, and the lizards had grown even more agitated.
Maybe I can vault over them with an abandoned spear. They’re only… three or four lizards deep. Maybe I can make it.
Bel grabbed for the spear that she’d noticed, ripping it from the grasp of it’s recently deceased owner. Then she turned and ran towards the lizards, but before she could attempt her athletic maneuver a horrific bellow shook her bones. It scattered her coordination, and she stumbled and jammed the spear into the ground to prevent a tumble onto the rocky floor.
Bel looked over her shoulder and saw that the giant had gotten a spear shoved through its shoulder, disabling an arm. Before any of the three fighters standing around him could take advantage of his condition though, the inquisitor stepped forward and turned one of them into a fine red mist with another flick of his fingers.
The second fighter made a desperate stab at the giant’s face, but the giant’s good arm scythed into him first. His body flew into the wall with a loud thump. Bel could tell from the angles of his parts that he was dead.
The last fighter took a step backwards, but the inquisitor advanced. The old-looking man slid like a snake, slipping past the fighter’s raised sword faster than the eye could blink. The inquisitor flicked his hand forward and the final fighter’s head detached from his body.
Bel turned back to the lizards and ran. One step, two steps, and then she felt a hard impact upon her back. She collapsed on the ground, her legs weak and senseless.
If I’d known that I was going to spend so much time getting knocked down, maybe I wouldn’t have bothered getting up in the first place, she thought ruefully.
James would say that’s too pathetic for a final thought, Bel realized. She had to at least try.
Her legs felt… well, they didn’t feel, but she could still crawl. She pulled herself towards the lizards. Maybe she could strangle one in a last act of defiance.
From the edge of her vision, Bel could see the inquisitor’s sandalled feet keeping pace with her.
“Still running?”
He chuckled.
“I suppose that is all you can do. It seems that Lempo’s children are weak.” He sighed, clearly delighting in her torment. “Well, at least your body will nourish your betters.”
Bel grit her teeth as her eyes met those of the large, toothy lizard in front of her. She blasted it with an angry glare, causing it to freeze up for a moment.
Bel jabbed her spear at it, failing to fully pierce its thick hide and instead scraping the spear point along the side of the creature. A line of red opened up, and blood slowly dripped from the shallow wound. That’s the best I can do, she thought sadly.
The lizard opened its mouth, exposing an impressive set of sharp teeth.
Then it went into a convulsion. Its teeth chattered, and pus oozed from its eyes. A moment later it collapsed.
“What–” the inquisitor began.
He was interrupted by the sudden presence of a large hand around his face. The old man whipped his hands forward to use his previously displayed ability, but a second arm caught his left hand and a third his right. A fourth arm, ending in a hand with long, blade-like fingers, jabbed into his abdomen. Where the finger-blades pierced his flesh it turned gray and necrotic. Bel only had a chance to blink before the inquisitor’s innards gushed out of his body in a stream of putrefied flesh.
“W–what?” Bel stammered.
She looked up at this new monster, but felt only confusion when she saw Ventas’ face smiling down at her.
“Beloved, child of Lempo,” he spoke, his voice hoarse and tight, like the words were painful to form. “Thank our goddess that I reached you in time.”
He tossed the now dead body of the inquisitor aside. Bel heard Klang roar; then the ground shook as the giant took off at a run.
Ventas moved past her in two long strides, rushing to meet the charging giant. Bel turned – slowly and painfully – to keep the fight in view. Unlike the inquisitor, the giant was not caught off-guard. His arms were longer, although one was still weakened by the earlier spear injury.
Ventas slipped in close to Technis’ furious servant. His four arms pummelled and slashed, heedless of any damage that he received in return. The giant’s tail scored a deep jab onto one of Ventas’ lower arms, but then the priest of Lempo put his hand upon the tail and it shattered apart.
As the giant stumbled back, a scream of primal rage and agony ripped from its throat.
Ventas calmly reached over to his poisoned arm and ripped it straight from the socket. He discarded it like an old glove and advanced, not giving the giant a moment to recover.
The giant swung its strong arm like a flail, battering the two arms on Ventas’ right side. The priest advanced through the onslaught, uncaring of his own bodily harm as he reached out with his remaining left hand to grasp the giant’s throat.
The giant’s skin sizzled on contact. The patchwork human grabbed at Ventas’ hand and kicked at the priests body as it attempted to break free, but with each pulse of its gigantic heart its blood vessels darkened and strength left its muscles.
The giant’s attacks weakened with each blow, and within ten beats of its heart it collapsed to its knees. Ventas pushed the giant to the floor. He held it there and the body swelled and blackened. The muscle and fat putrefied beneath the skin and oozed through the giant’s open wounds. Bel gagged at the smell, but she dragged herself towards the priest anyway.
Ventas straightened with a groan of pain and slowly shambled back to her.
“Ventas, you’re hurt! You need to heal yourself!” Bel pleaded.
He smiled at her, although half of his face was slack and unmoving. His entire body had been transformed; no longer was he the slightly tall, muscular, and healthy uncle she’d gotten to know in Clearbrook. If not for his face and voice she wouldn’t have recognized him. “What happened to you?”
He coughed to clear his throat. “I have made use of all of the gifts given to me by your mother so that I could make it to your side in time. Unfortunately, the urgency of our–” he coughed and paused for a moment.
“Urgency did not allow for a more controlled mutation,” he finished. “I am sorry to say that I will not be able to help you beyond this point.”
He coughed again, with a deep, wet sound, and staggered to her side. He knelt and put his last uninjured hand onto her back. “I can no longer heal myself, but I can help you before I pass.”
Bel felt a tingle, and then her legs twitched. A moment later and she could feel them again.
She threw her arms around Ventas. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “It’s my fault that you’re so hurt. My fault that you’re d-dying,” she stammered.
He patted her head. Her snakes quietly moving out of the way of his fumbling hand. “It is okay my dear. By saving you I hope that I have already changed the world for the better. And now my soul will fly to Lempo, and I will be rewarded for my devotion.”
Was that how things worked? Bel didn’t know – despite being the reason for all of this fighting and death she didn’t have the faintest inkling of an idea of what was happening.
She squeezed Ventas tightly as tears poured down her face.
“If…” The priest croaked. He cleared his throat. “If you could do me one favor, child.”
Bel pulled her head back so that she could look him in the eyes. “Anything.”
“Please offer my body to Lempo, that I may move quickly to her side.”
He patted Bel affectionately on the cheek. “I do not wish to wander in the darkness for too long, and you are directly connected to your mother.”
He coughed again, and a spasm wracked his body. “Ah,” he cried out, “I do wish that I had more time to guide you. Lempo had–”
He coughed continually for a few moments, and Bel desperately clung to his hand. She clung to him as if she could hold him back from his coming end.
“Lempo has many plans in you,” he wheezed. “And I had such joy in teaching her child.”
Ventas’ hand stiffened, twitched, and then his body relaxed. Bel slowly lowered him to the ground as her vision flooded with tears. She sat in a daze for what could have been minutes or hours, but eventually she recalled her uncle’s last wish.
She gently covered him with a spare cloak that she pulled from one of Nebamon’s dead fighters and placed her hand upon his chest. Once she connected to the core in his body she closed her eyes and spoke a prayer to Lempo.
“Lempo. Mother. This man was very good to me, and a very loyal priest to you. He wanted to get to your side quickly and to s-stay out of the darkness.” She sniffed loudly, the sound echoing through the now silent tunnel. “So please be good to him.”
Bel’s voice broke as she finished speaking. Her eyes clenched shut and she sobbed loudly.
And then she felt a pulling sensation from her own core, as if she was absorbing his essence. She didn’t want that – she didn’t want to treat him like some corrupted creature to be absorbed, but she couldn’t stop whatever was happening. She felt his core break and all of his essence come churning out of it.
However, instead of moving into Bel, or drifting away to the center of Olympos, Ventas’ essence swirled close before spinning away, like a stream of foam being accelerated by an eddy in the water. She felt his essence move past her, and a connection to something vast and ancient open up. His essence moved into the abyss and the connection closed, leaving Bel feeling tiny and helpless in its wake.
“Be at peace, uncle,” she murmured. His body crumbled into dust beneath her hands, leaving behind only his clothes and the small pendant he’d worn around his neck. Bel picked it up and put it around her neck, desperate for something to keep his memory alive.