Maiden of the Hollow Path, page 40
Shahina grasped her coat, throwing it over her frame as she limped towards the door and twisted the handle. “It’d be best not to sit around and wait for this creature to show its true–”
The wood splintered in half as a jinn-possessed courtesan rammed her way through the partition, shrieking with a split tongue and spitting green eyes. “Found you!”
Shahina stumbled back with a gasp, turning just as Garosh snapped his head up with an ear-splitting grin. “It’s a shame. I really liked you, Paragon.”
He lunged with apt precision, like an irala poised to pounce, when Crogan grasped Shahina around the waist and pulled her back at the last second. She let out a startled wince, her leg taking far too much pressure than she was used to.
The sound was lost beneath the thrashing jinn woman at the door, caring little for wooden splinters shredding her skin and Garosh having collided in a tangle of newly forged bones and the now broken armoire.
Crogan turned them both, rushing for the terrace with a sense of panic. He couldn’t hear anything Shahina was saying, but he knew they had to jump. As the moonlight gleamed through the overcast, he invoked the only manner of magick he could, yet instead of white fur amassing over his contorting shape, it was black.
Shahina barely had a moment to take in the shape of a half-turned nogitsune before Crogan pulled her into his embrace and pivoted over the guarded railing. The world spun around her as she clutched fast to his build.
Then, they were falling.
* * *
Shahina was rather good at falling.
One had to master the art, for each body had a threshold and could withstand a certain amount of abuse—that is if they’d tested the limits properly.
She’d perfected it in the Summer Court, skirmishing with a boy whose name even bottles of wine hadn’t made her forget. He’d always go for her legs, sweeping her clean off of them more times than she’d care to admit.
Mastering the fall was a challenge and one had to consider all options. What part of the body was sensitive, what part of the body wasn’t? Where were you falling, how were you falling? Better, would you make it?
It took her a moment to realize the rush of cold air that made her eyes water and the world barreling up towards her face were of apt concern.
Shahina squeezed her eyes shut when a sudden shift mid-fall turned them both. Crogan’s shoulder cracked off the wood awning underneath. He ricocheted off it, unable to keep Shahina in his hold as he sprawled hard against the ground. The two rolled out from each other, the breath knocked out of his lungs as his gleaming silvers starred up into the sky.
With every bit of strength in her, she slammed her fist against the ground and groaned. Her form shook as she struggled to sit up, having landed precariously, making the shift of her legs almost numb. Roseblood courtesans and Black Sword patrons were rushing the fallen couple, voices overclaiming the other.
Only a second passed before a gigolo’s hand touched her shoulder. “Paragon! Are you okay–?”
His question fell short as something flashed white and tackled him into the ground, jaws snapping in on his raised arm. Blood washed across the cobblestones, starting a flurry of panic within the pleasure district.
The Black Swords pulled their swords from their sheaths a second too late as waves of Chasm’s flooded through the street, their frames mangled and eyes vibrant pink or greens.
But Shahina had her eyes on the gigolo who lost the raging battle and had his torso torn open by a Chasm no more than a man. Young, though the hair on his head came off in patches and the flesh of his frame was pockmarked with flaws. The brown of his arms disappeared into vivid black tar that raised the hairs on the back of Shahina’s neck. It was an abomination with hands so big and talons so long it shredded the man’s torso right open.
Carnage spilled out into streets, the squelching of flesh torn by the abomination as it tilted its roaring head back and burst into shadows.
Like wind shifting across the Black Sea, the creature disappeared through the tear of the man’s torso. It bumped and stretched like elastic before situating in its new host body. The gigolo rolled his head around and around until it settled on his shoulders. Bones broke, clothes tore, and before Shahina’s very eyes, the man’s lifeless grays turned pink.
He smiled, skin tearing as blood plumed from the corners of his mouth.
“It’s just a vessel, really. Beautiful…isn’t it? I think we of the Volgarich learned how to make the flesh last longer,” the possessed raised his hand, wiggling fingers in a display of mockery, “Magick.”
Abominations roared from above and Shahina turned her gaze skyward, watching as nefarious forms of men and women raced on all fours across the rooftops. They launched themselves downward, hitting the ground in a tangle of limbs. Each had a target in mind. Courtesans and swordsmen alike were picked off, their fates layered in explosions of flesh and dark silhouettes manifesting inside their hallowed souls.
The shadows were made from corporeal forms seeking all manner of host. And Shahina was easy pickings.
One lunged for him with jaws breaking open to rend flesh when a snarling nogitsune tackled him out of the way. A set of nine-tails with black blade tips lashed about, nicking the tendons of other Chasm’s who shrieked at their newly flayed flesh.
Each of them cowered back into the shadows as Crogan’s form bristled on all fours, ears flat against his head, fur wild and tainted in blood–blood Shahina couldn’t make out to be his or something else.
In an attempt to protect Shahina, Crogan left his left wide open. A scurrying Chasm came at him sideways, startled only when Shahina forced herself into a half stand and sent a flash of steel from her wristlet into his chest.
The creature skid over the grounds, smoke rising up from where a tuskblade katar seared through flesh. “Burns! It burns!”
Her hand touched Crogan’s head, the nogitsune being a large, nine-foot-tall fox that spanned thirteen feet in length. She looked him over before pointing at her blade. “Bring me my katar.”
He dipped his head in understanding, eyes flashing from silver to pure white, an aura manifesting over him that telekinetically wrenched the katar from its chasm and spiraling back into Shahina’s open palm. “Nice trick.”
“Now what?” Came his voice.
Shahina quirked a brow at him. “Woah. You’re in my head? Is that normal?”
I don’t know, Rukhezzi. How about we get out of here alive before we play twenty questions?”
“Down,” she commanded, and he dipped his head low as she clambered up onto his back. “Swordsmen! The Fourth District is at a loss! Retreat to the Third Gate or we may just join the dead!” She barked over the carnage. Then, with a hand running over Crogan’s head, she added somberly, “We have to contain it here or your people fall. Go.”
With an understanding bob of the head, Crogan took off down the street. Shahina gripped his fur in an attempt to keep steady when a dark shadow fell over them.
She watched as Kodomo flew past them before drawing his wings close and diving into the fray of Chasms behind them. “Takahashi, your bird–”
“Kodomo knows what he’s doing.”
She watched in awe as his spear-like beak tore into flesh and bone of the newly forged. Blood and gore splattered across its head and chest until he was satisfied. With puddles of crimson for the taking, Kodomo rolled about in its color; turning himself into a bone vulture prepared to fight.
Yet suddenly, he took to the skies again, speed unlike anything Shahina had seen blotting him out of sight.
Through the onslaught, something else grew and this time, the Black Swords that were fighting to defend Shahina could no longer stand to do so any longer. They began fleeing in all directions with no chase.
For it was the sight of an Ifrit with vibrant pink eyes that could be sifting through the wreckage and screeching commands to others in Forbidden Tongue.
Shahina blanched as the creature stood, a dark shadow erupting from behind. A tail made of pride swished from side-to-side, cutting the air in half. It eased its arms out, embracing the sky before releasing a death-defying scream that shattered the night. The newly forged Charm’s jumped to him, sacrificing their sinew and bone.
They were mere servants feeding their vessel and this ifrit gained their strength; defying the natural balance of man and magick. Then, as if honing in on the two, the Ifrit unfurled its wings and launched into the sky until it was a true horror bathed in the waning moonlight.
Patting Crogan urgently, she said, “I would recommend you run faster.”
Crogan spared a glance over his shoulder, shock muddling his features at the ifrit which swept forth in a flurry of black.
This monster made from mangled flesh donned a hundred eyes on his face and wings and held only a mere slit for a mouth. It spanned nine feet tall, and perhaps the same length as Crogan, tail thrashing against concrete and sending debris scattering across the grounds.
It slammed against the arched gate that read “ENTRY TO ROSEBLOOD” just as Crogan raced past it. A howl erupted from the creature, its eyes skittering over the startled crowd closing shop for the night.
With the distance growing between them, Shahina swore it prowled like a zragh. One of the worst things she’d ever come across in the desert was mimicked tenfold here in the Third District.
“There’s too many people here! If he comes for us, he’ll kill a lot more.” Shahina’s breath was hot in Crogan’s ear. He nodded a second after the creature lunged from his perch, meaty hands slamming onto the ground and sending a tidal wave of screams rising up over the working folk.
Crogan slipped right, barreling down a lavish set of buildings as mayhem followed behind. The ifrit prowled after them, each thunderous step jolting through Shahina’s core.
Her eyes were on him, at the way his talons dug up mounds of gravel and at his tail swept through closed stalls, whiplashing people struggling to get away.
“I can smell your fear, little falcon!” It howled.
“Rukhezzi, focus! What did the jadukari tell us when we were in Widowmere? It has a name, doesn’t it?”
“Right…” she turned away, blinking away her disorientation, “Not the Defiler, not the Plaguemaster. It’s either–” a beat of wings cut the air in half and she turned at the gargantuan shadow falling over the two.
Shahina now stared into the Ifrit’s pink eyes, one of hundreds blinking and tearing blood. It’s slit stretched wide until it smiled, showing off ravenous incisors for consumption
A cry shattered the tranquil air and Kodomo dropped from the sky. Talons outstretched, the vulture scorched the ifrit’s eyes.
The creature let out a bellow of pain, rearing up and waving its meaty hand about to nab Kodomo out of the air, only to miss. His peripheral took the majority of the damage, and as his head shook, blood splattered from the empty sockets where his four eyes had been.
The others teared and bled, irises swiveling in their hold. Kodomo struck again and again, nipping and snapping; bursting orbs and blinding the ifrit until the creature swung his tail up at the last second and sniped the vulture out of the sky.
Kodomo shrieked as his body slammed off the ground.
Crogan’s soul burst at his Heartbird’s torment. It felt like his whole body was broken, arms growing limp, legs seizing with pain. Only then did he know what Kodomo felt.
“Takahashi!” Shahina’s cry came too late.
The Ifrit hooked its talons onto the back of Crogan’s leg, hauling him through the air. Shahina rolled off in a heap a second before the Ifrit threw him down the street. The Siphon ragdolled, head slamming off the ground before falling still.
Shahina moved just as th Ifrit’s spiked tail came barreling towards her body. She twisted overhead, landing on her feet that buckled under her weight. Arming herself with the blood-stained katar, she took position
Round and round the two went. Shahina and her prey were locked in combat, talons slashing, tail swiping, and tuskblade katar, nicking its enemy hellbent on killing her. Eventually, the ifrit won the upper-hand, swinging out its left hand and leaving gashes seeping with blood poison on Shahina’s mid-section.
Shahina parried away, weakening. She couldn’t feel her right leg anymore and cold started to wash over her frayed nerve-endings. Flipping the katar, she asked, “What do you gain from this, Azghal?”
The Ifrit’s many eyes widened as it gasped. Shrieking, it stepped back as if seared by acid. “No! No, don’t say that name! Don’t say it!”
“Tell me! I command you! What do you gain from this carnage?”
“Followers!” it howled. “They have come from far and wide, left their confines of the Northern Province and were promised something better here in the south! Here they can bend their will to us! We of many! We who stray in the hollows of the Marizad, we who will give the pratham rani immortality!”
“Who in my family bound you to the medallion?”
He shrieked into his large hands, stood on his fleshy hind legs and thrashed about, struggling to keep it a secret to no avail. “One of you! One made of red silk!”
Resham, she thought. “How?”
“From…afar…” it struggled. “From…far below…”
“I don’t understand—” Azghal struck with sudden ferocity. He swiped at her with his right, sending the girl tripping over her feet. She hit the ground as he’d pounced at long last, his jaw cracked open to reveal a thousand teeth lining down his dark throat.
Just as he was about to eat her whole, the nogitsune returned with a roar. Crogan tackled Azghal, the two rolling head over heels in a mangle of black fur and blood.
In their brawl, Crogan won the upperhand. His eyes were possessed in streams of charcoal magick, jaw snapping in a vengeance for his battered Heartbird, for his bruised soul. In one swift move, he tore Azghal’s face in half, yelping as acid blood scattered over his nose.
He pulled off the Ifrit and his twitching frame of blood and bone. With each step of his blood-stained paw, Crogan replaced it with his feet and then, his tattered form; trousers torn and chest marred. There was a ringing in his ears as he eased the medallion out of the inky black spools of his sorcery.
He and Shahina met in the middle, both of them bruised and exhausted. Crogan was worse for wear with harsh chemical burns spilt over his face. Shahina grimaced up at him as he said, “Bind him.”
She took the medallion and limped with swift exhaustion towards the nearly decimated Ifrit. She raised it with ease, feeling the golden ward of the medallion come alive. Not even a second later the ifrit exploded in a burst of shrieking smoke, its essence pulled into its bind.
Scorching hot pain fled up Shahina’s hand as she cried out, dropping the medallion altogether. It rattled with its new prisoner, leaving Shahina and Crogan watching as the red rune pulsed feverishly in an attempt to break before returning to normal.
Shahina placed a hand around her midsection. As she struggled to move, her right leg gave out. She collapsed with a groan, darkness ebbing into the corners of her vision. But looking at Crogan, he somehow looked worse.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“If sleeping with you is this exciting, I wonder what our wedding night will be like.” Crogan quipped.
He took a step forward with the intention of helping her into a stand. Instead, the last thing he felt was himself falling and Shahina reaching up to catch him.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE: THE PIRATE IN THE ROOM
IT was a confusing for Crogan to wake up and stare at the ceiling full of Pathra’s. It seemed he and Shahina switched their roles here within the medical ward, for when he looked down at the person sitting in a chair beside his bed, it was her head resting against his hand, willing him to wake up.
Crogan took a good look at her, at her thick hair in rolling rivulets around the white sheets. Despite his better judgment, he tangled his fingers through the thick tresses, feeling every frayed knot on its way to her split ends.
Before he could admire her imperfections, something soft and fluffy hissed from under his blanket.
Startled, Crogan was taken aback by the bundle that warmed his stomach. Kodomo blinked up at him, clearly having woken himself. He chittered with disapproval before nuzzling Crogan’s bare chest, demanding affection.
Every protest in Crogan’s body had since dissipated at the sight of his Heartbird, at how the only thing he escaped with was a broken right wing. There was a lengthy splint made to stabilize his metacarpal fracture, the wrap made from torn pink fabrics that did well in keeping it even.
“My love,” Crogan said with tears in his eyes, drawing Kodomo into his arms. “My foolish little boy. Don’t ever do that to me again.”
Kodomo puffed out with pride at the coddling, rubbing his furry head against Crogan’s chin.
They’d shifted only slightly, rousing Shahina from slumber. Her head was still placed tiredly against the mattress as she yawned. “The Weaver said you suffered a contusion. She couldn’t tell if there was bleeding in that pretty head of yours, but they worked well on you. They also said your Heartbird is lucky.”
“I didn’t know you had top notch medical care for animals.” Crogan wanted it to be a prod at her familial ties, but Kodomo had since clambered onto his chest, strewing himself into the crook of his neck.
“The Wyvern Master is soft for winged companions.”
“I hate having to tell you this…but my eternal thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” she chided with a smile. Done now with his bonding, Kodomo slid off of Crogan and squawked obnoxiously, throwing his left wing in the air and flapping it to catch Shahina’s attention. “Ah, yes. I’m very happy you’ve come out of this just fine, my lord. We’ll have you flying and courting phoenixes in no time.”
Crogan was surprised at how artfully Shahina stroked his Heartbird. It begged the question, “Did you raise fledglings before?”
