Chapter Sixteen #2
“Stand down,” Ione commanded River, who did not budge. “This is my fight.” Her shoulders raised, fell, a long, purifying breath. “Castor Almenara,” she intoned. “Before you can kill Menon, I presume you must summon Her.”
Castor tucked his chin, his gaze predatory, his smile mad. “You presume correctly.”
Ione lifted her ice blade, a cloud of vapour trailing after it. “Then summon Her.”
His lips curled and he sent Lina a bemused look. “You’ve got friends in high places, I see.”
Ione chilled, unfazed, and eight trunks of water snaked up around her, smaller but faster than Kai’s storeys-high waterspouts.
One by one they rose, frozen points shooting at Castor – but for all the training in spellcasting Ione had received, it was not experience in open combat.
Laughing, Castor dodged or evaporated each of them, not bothering to attack, inciting Ione into fighting harder, depleting her energy faster.
Opportunistic as ever, River wove between the strands of water, his sword a blur. Castor ducked out of the way, but his face tightened when River changed direction on the fly, knocking Castor nearly off his feet in another narrow dodge.
Castor opened his palm, white sparks building, a close-quarters technique Lina recognised. “Get back,” Lina shouted, and River obeyed, allowing her to throw herself in the way and stifle another burst of flame.
She scarcely registered Castor’s bared teeth, the loathing in his eyes – and then pain cracked in her skull. The room lurched and went black, sending her flying, falling, landing into the water with a dull splash.
A shriek and the stench of fresh blood cut through, tore her back to life. Lina pushed herself out of the water and squinted through the haze, dizzy, searching for Ione. There, alive and unharmed, her face twisted with grief.
And before her, River, on his hands and knees as blood poured from his abdomen. He sucked in an unsteady breath through gritted teeth, one hand weakly groping through the water for his sword.
“We’ll do away with the rabble first, I thought,” Castor said, stooping and wiping his dagger on the back of River’s tunic.
Lina staggered back to her feet, her temple already swelling where Castor had hit her with the butt of his dagger, but Castor kicked her hard in the knee.
She crashed into the water, sputtering. A foot pressed into the back of her head, forcing her down.
Drowning her, the ultimate insult from a pyromancer.
The weight lifted and Lina rose, retching.
“Menon will kill you,” Ione screamed, straddling Castor’s chest in the water, her ice blade held high. She stabbed, but Castor caught her wrist, gripped until she cried out and dropped the blade.
“I should hope Menon makes an appearance,” he said, backhanding Ione and bucking her off of him. He stood and shook the water from his hair. “I hadn’t wanted to go too hard, too fast, but if Menon’s going to be this shy, maybe I need to up the ante.”
Ione snarled, hurling a thick whip of icy barbs at him, but he wended around them like they were nothing. He let another nearly hit him before he thrust his dagger out, shattering it. Child’s play, his grin said; this angry, Ione was harmless to him.
“Don’t be that way.” He tutted and opened his arms, sauntering towards her.
“After Hearthstone, I put a lot of effort into planning my official meeting with Menon Herself.” He motioned grandly to Lina.
“Even as my precious sister tried to delay my healing. Yes, Lina.” Castor’s eyes seemed to glow with some inner fire, otherworldly. “Of course I knew.”
He stopped just short of Ione, taking her in, the rise and fall of her shoulders with each ragged breath, the wedding dress dyed red.
Lina moved to stand and collapsed with a furious curse, agony radiating from her knee.
She clamped a hand over it, the skin red-hot, fragments of bone loose beneath it; light bloomed beneath her palm, but she couldn’t concentrate through the pain, didn’t have time to heal bone.
So she crawled, her useless leg dragging behind her. Castor saw her and chuckled.
“Valiant.” He grabbed Ione’s wrist, twisting it before she could summon another blade. “You’re serious about this one, are you?” he asked, pointing at Ione. “Was it you she was marrying?”
A flash of movement, and Castor jerked back, cursing and holding his nose. Ione had punched him, but her victory was short-lived: he slapped her across the face, a high sharp noise, and Ione careened backwards.
“The funny thing is,” Castor announced to his audience, “I would’ve thought this was enough.” He gestured around them, at the ruined building, the few bodies of hydromancers floating nearby; at River, cradling his abdomen and breathing wet and slow; at Lina, dazed and broken.
“So where is She?” he demanded, rounding on Ione, blood dripping from his nose and spraying with each word. “Where did you put Her?”
Metal flashed and Castor fell to one knee, cursing. River had found his sword, delivered a deep slice in the back of Castor’s leg – but with a burst of flame Castor healed it, drew himself up, kicked River square in the face.
Ione shrieked as he fell, a wall of ice spikes rising in response to her terror. They melted before they touched him with little more than a wave of his hand.
In the blink of an eye Castor was inches before her again, a hand around her throat. “Do you have any idea how hard I’ve worked?” His voice rose, almost cracking, droplets of blood dotting Ione’s face. “Do you understand everything I’ve gone through, everything I’ve done, for this moment?”
Ione went still, paralysed with fear.
“If you have Her, give Her to me,” Castor whispered now, a gentle caress. “And if you don’t, then tell me now so I can kill you and move on.”
His gaze cleared and he lurched backwards, letting a spear of ice bolt between them through the space where his head had been. “Ah!” With Ione still in his grip – to be used as a shield, Lina realised, her blood running cold – Castor beamed towards his new opponent. “This seems promising. Welcome.”
“Thanks. I feel welcomed.” Kai. His shoulders were hunched, one mangled arm hanging, but his eyes were filled with drive as they locked onto Castor. “I don’t suppose you’d let her go if I asked nicely?”
“Who, this?” Castor spun Ione around and pinned her arms behind her, letting Kai see. What little energy Lina could still sense within Kai coiled, blackened with hateful protectiveness.
There was movement a distance behind him, shadowy forms nearing.
“Last chance.” Kai widened his footing. “I sure hope you don’t care about these people.”
Pyromancers launched out of the smoke, hands wrapping around Kai’s arms, feet kicking the backs of his knees, a torrent of fire poised to slam into him.
Kai grunted in pain and exertion, and then the dirty water spiralled, lifted, freezing into curved blades that shredded through the pyromancers’ bodies.
They fell into tattered lumps on either side of him.
Kai remained on his hands and knees after, coughing.
“I don’t, but thanks for asking,” said Castor. “Will you stay there for me? I’m trying to summon Menon.”
“Oh – ” Kai spat into the water and fought to stand. “Please do.”
“I mean,” Castor added, “you might not like what I do to Her.”
That was enough to get Kai moving again, reaching for the small knife he kept sheathed behind him. He hurled himself at Castor, who merely thrust Ione in front of him, but Kai curved at the last moment and drove the knife into Castor’s side. Castor roared and struggled, but Kai did not release him.
“Let go,” Kai whispered into Castor’s ear, Ione still pinned between them, “of my fucking wife.”
Unbelievably, Castor complied, letting Kai push Ione behind him. “Oh, this is the other half of the happy couple,” he exclaimed, a hand pressed against his wound. A healing spell glimmered, slower now. He caught Lina’s eyes and smirked. “Seems she’s two-timing you. You still want her?”
Kai lunged again, but without Ione to hinder him, Castor flitted easily out of the way and wrapped a hand around half of Kai’s face.
Sizzling, a howl of pain; Castor let go, revealing melted skin, one eye welded shut.
He jammed a knee into Kai’s stomach and the knife flew from Kai’s hand, landing somewhere near Ione with a muted splash.
Castor watched Kai fall and sighed, throwing an arm into the air. Bright sparks sprayed from his fingertips and up into the sky. An alert.
Please, Menon. Lina’s arms trembled under her own weight, her knee on fire, her head heavy.
More members of Castor’s team emerged; they swept Ione towards Castor and flanked Kai, held him still.
A pair of them marched to Lina, tore her arms back, her shoulders protesting.
Some even hauled River up onto his knees, and Kai, finally noticing him through the smoke and chaos, struggled to free himself, to go to him.
“River,” he called, and more desperately, his voice straining, when River didn’t move, “Riv.”
Only Ione was left standing, pushed to the centre of them all, her energy flagging. She clutched her hands together over her chest, making her appear smaller, younger, and watched helplessly as Castor sauntered up to her.
“So which of you is it?” he asked, striding before them one by one. “Not the guard. Not Lina, gods, no.” He hesitated at Ione. “Menon is here,” Castor declared. “You said you possess Her. So where is She?”
Ione shook her head, seething, hands clasped tight over her heart.
“It would really behoove you to just come out with it,” he warned, circling Ione like a vulture.
“You’re not protecting Her, nor Her vessel.
You’ll all die by the end, sure, but you understand I have to be mindful.
If Menon’s vessel dies before She manifests, then this is all very pointless.
And you don’t want it all to be pointless, do you? ”
A hissing curse distracted him – one of his men, grappling to keep Kai still. Castor followed Kai’s gaze to River, drifting in and out of consciousness.
“Oh, let him,” Castor called. “He’s harmless enough now.” A laugh. “Especially with his brothers busy protecting their Archpriest.”
The man released Kai, grinning as he dragged himself to River, held his face, commanded him to wake up, to forgive him. Healing water twisted around his fingertips, seeped into the gaping wound in River’s abdomen, the crushed, bleeding nose.
Too weak. Not enough.
Castor glanced at Lina, pointed at each of them in turn. “I’m noticing a… quadrangle?” He waved a hand. “Anyway. You, Artem.” His teeth flashed. “Ready to cooperate?”
“You claim to have come to summon Menon,” Ione whispered, deathly quiet, “And if you at all knew what you were doing, you would have done so by now.”
Castor snorted. “By all means, show me. Let me see a god with my own eyes before I snuff Her out forever.” He threw his shoulders back, grinning madly. “And become a god in my own right.”
Ione turned, looking to River, to Kai. To Lina. Her eyes shimmered and Castor clicked his tongue with faux sympathy.
“I thought Menon would come if I called for Her,” Ione murmured, her gaze still on Lina. “Saros was right. Menon wouldn’t heed me just because I prayed very hard or asked very nicely.”
She smiled, tears falling in twin rivulets down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she said to them all. She opened her hands, revealing Kai’s knife. “Thank you.”
Kai stirred, his head whipping from River to Ione and back.
Deciding who to save. Even Castor started, one hand shooting out to grab the knife from her, but Ione twisted out of his grasp, slashing, carving a jagged gash across Castor’s face.
She leapt back with a laugh, feral and effervescent, and lifted the blade to her throat.
“Ione – ” Lina shouted, straining. She loosed one arm, felt her elbow connecting with something, heard a cry of pain. She was free, crawling, screaming Ione’s name.
Don’t take her. Please, gods, don’t take her.
It was so quick. So quiet. Blood spilled down Ione’s front, her arms dropping, the knife falling from her fingertips. She bowed forward, clawing at her neck, before crashing to her knees.
There was shouting, a scuffle, words from Castor and his men that Lina couldn’t make out.
She dragged herself to Ione, curled her into her arms, felt her heart break as Ione trembled uncontrollably, her breaths slowing, slowing.
A healing flame fluttered on Lina’s palm, doused by blood, by her own exhaustion.
With the last of her consciousness, Ione laid her hand over Lina’s. Tangled their fingers together, squeezed.
Splashing, men felled, an inhuman cry that drowned out all else. Light pierced the smog, brighter than fire, purer.
Moonlight.
And then there was peace, and silence, and nothing but sweet, cool water lapping at Lina’s legs. The stench of smoke and blood dissipated, replaced by soft rains, gentle droplets caressing her skin, washing away the lingering pain and fear.
A fresh wave of tears slid down Ione’s cheeks. Her lips curved into a faint, relieved smile.
And Castor’s voice cut through the sacred light:
“There you are.”