Authors: Daniel Arenson
Rage
flared in Gemini to hear his brother's words. To let Mercy escape? To
let her fly into exile? She would fly to Terra! She would summon her
army there and fly back here to reclaim the Temple--to kill him!
"No,"
Gemini said, voice shaking. "No, Mercy. No! This ends here. This
ends now." His eyes burned and his fist trembled around the hilt
of his sword.
"Gemini,
stand back!" Mercy screamed.
"No!"
Gemini took a step closer toward her. "You think I care about
this babe? Cade might, but I'm not him. I don't mind sacrificing
babes either. I saw ten thousand babes die in the Horde, and I
laughed, Mercy. I laughed as they burned, because each burning corpse
was a step closer to you. To here. To this day. To this chamber. To
your death." He took another step closer. "And you die now,
Mercy."
"Gemini,
stop!" Cade cried, reaching out to grab him.
Gemini
shoved his younger brother aside. "Stand back, Cade!" He
reeled back toward Mercy, and tears now streamed down his cheeks.
"This is between me and her. Me and my sister. It ends now,
Mercy! All this. All the pain you caused. All the people you killed.
All the things you did to me." Gemini's voice was shaking wildly
now. His body trembled. "I'm going to stop it all."
Mercy
stared at him, eyes wild with rage. "The things I did to you?"
"Do
you think I forgot?" Gemini screamed, voice tearing. "Do
you think I forgot how you would beat me as a child? How you would
mock me, scorn me? How you killed her?" His voice tore with
pain. He tasted blood. "How you killed the first woman I loved?"
She
stared at him, eyes wide, cheeks pale. "She was a whore,"
Mercy whispered.
"She
was my bride!" Gemini screamed, weeping, shaking. His tears
fell. "I loved her! I loved her and you killed her! You killed
Shayla! You . . . you stabbed her and burned her and fed her to the
drakes, just like you wanted to kill Domi." Mucus and tears
streamed across his face. "But I won't let you. I won't let you
kill Domi too. I won't let you kill anyone else."
Sobs
racked Gemini's body. It had been so many years. So many years of
hiding that secret, refusing to think of it, refusing to think of
her. Of Shayla. Of sweet Shayla, the woman he had loved, the scribe's
daughter he had brought into the Temple. The memories now pounded
through him, too real, too painful, and
Spirit, stars, please,
make them stop. Make it stop.
Gemini's sword wavered and his
chest shook as he remembered.
"A
pureblood stud is never to marry," Beatrix had said that day.
Gemini
had screamed. He had begged. He had clung to Shayla, his sweet bride,
holding her close.
"Mercy,
kill the whore," Beatrix had commanded, voice cold.
How
Gemini had screamed! How he screamed now! He saw it all again--Mercy
tearing Shayla from his arms, stabbing her, tossing her to the
firedrakes, and the beasts had ripped into her--she had still been
alive!--but still the reptiles fed, guzzling her down until Shayla no
longer screamed, no longer existed, only in a memory.
Until
I burned that memory too.
Too
much pain. Too much terror. Gemini had forgotten. He had forced
himself to forget. Yet now he remembered. Now he would have his
revenge.
"For
you, Shayla," he whispered.
He
screamed. He raised his sword. Howling, weeping, Gemini charged
toward his sister and thrust his blade.
Mercy
screamed and raised her sword to parry.
Cade
leaped forth, reaching out to grab Eliana.
For
Shayla. For Domi. For my revenge.
Gemini
swung his sword down again and again. Mercy's blade bit him. He
screamed and thrust his blade, hacking at her. Her sword thrust
through his breastplate and into his belly. He swung his sword again,
denting her armor, howling, laughing as his blood spilled.
For
you, Shayla. For you, Domi.
Cade
had grabbed the babe, and Gemini laughed. Perhaps after all those
corpses, he had saved one child. Mercy's sword drove into Gemini's
chest, crackling through the steel, cutting into his lung. Blood
filled his mouth. Blood covered the floor. Gemini cried out and gave
his blade one last swing, but Mercy parried and thrust again.
Her
blade once more slipped into his belly.
Gemini
fell to his knees before her, his armor broken, his lifeblood seeping
away.
No.
No, I failed you Shayla. I failed you, Domi.
He
tried to raise his sword again. He could not.
"Good,"
Mercy said, savoring the word. "Good, kneel before me, brother.
Kneel like you should before your ruler. You will join Shayla now.
You will die like she did--like meat. A meal for drakes. That's all
you are, Gemini. A pathetic hunk of mea--"
She
screamed as the dragonfire washed over her.
Gemini
whipped his spinning head around. Cade was flying outside the window,
snout thrust into the chamber, blasting a thin jet of flame over
Gemini's head onto Mercy.
Mercy
howled. The dragonfire washed over her armor, heating and melting the
steel. Her face melted with it, the skin dripping off, the muscles
below burning, her eyeballs seeping down her cheeks in rivulets. She
fell to her knees before Gemini.
"Now
you too kneel," Gemini whispered.
As
his lifeblood drained, he lifted his sword.
He
thrust it through his sister's melting armor and into her heart.
Mercy
gave a last gasp, then fell and rose no more.
Gemini
followed her to the floor. He hit his side and managed to roll onto
his back. He lay in his own blood, and more kept draining from him.
"Gemini!"
Cade said. He rushed forward in human form, holding Eliana in his
arms. He knelt above Gemini and clasped his hand. "I'll help
you. I'm here, brother. You'll be fine. You--"
"Yes,
I'll be fine," Gemini whispered. He could not speak any louder.
"I . . . I did all right, didn't I?" His eyes stung. "I
did what I had to do."
"You
did," Cade whispered. Tears filled the boy's eyes, and he
clasped Gemini's hand more tightly.
"We
saved her, Cade. We saved Eliana." Gemini looked up at his
younger brother. "Cade, you are my true brother. You are the
only true family I've ever had. Mercy is dead now. There is no more
heir to the Cured Temple." His voice shook. "You're the
heir now. This Temple is yours now to rule. Tear it down. Tear it all
down. And build Requiem again. And . . . in the songs of Requiem,
sing kindly of me. Tell my story, but don't sing of a tyrant. Sing of
one who gave his life so that Requiem's columns could rise again."
Suddenly Gemini gasped. "I can see them, brother! I can see them
again."
"See
what?" Cade whispered, tears on his cheeks.
Gemini
too wept. It was so beautiful. "Silvery halls of starlight.
Columns in the sky. Requiem. I see Requiem, Cade." He squeezed
his brother's hand. "Cade, tell Domi that I love her. Tell her
that I love her and that I'm sorry. Tell her that. That I'm sorry."
Cade
tightened his jaw. "You'll tell her that. You're going to get
through this. You'll see Domi again."
Gemini
smiled wanly. "I already see her in my mind. I will always see
her." He closed his eyes, and indeed he saw her there--his Domi.
The new love she had brought to his life. The first woman he had
loved since Shayla. A woman who had taught him again what it meant to
love.
I
gave my life for you too, Domi. So you can have your kingdom. Be
happy, Domi. Be happy in Requiem. I love you always.
He
squeezed Cade's hand, and he thought of Domi's eyes, and he gazed
upon the celestial columns, and then he slept--the long sleep of the
weary--and for the first time in his life, Gemini Deus was at peace.
FIDELITY
She
lay on her back in the courtyard, a human again, as the dragon
skeleton pinned her down with his claws.
Roen's
skeleton.
"Roen
. . . oh, Roen, please," Fidelity whispered. She was too weak,
too wounded, to become a dragon again. All she could do was lie on
the cobblestones, her lover's claws pressed against her chest. The
skeleton sneered down at her, light gathering in his jaws and
swirling within his ribcage.
"Roen!"
she cried out.
The
dragon skeleton snapped his teeth. He roared. He seemed ready to
release her, then leaned forward again, sneering, jaws opening and
closing. It seemed that he struggled between memory of life and the
undead thing he had become, torn between the Roen he had been and the
bonedrake he now was, torn between love for Fidelity and his
servitude to the Spirit, his new master.
"Roen,
it's me!" Fidelity cried, his claws nearly crushing her. "Don't
you remember me? Don't you remember your Fidelity? I know it's you,
Roen." She wept. "I can see your last green scales like the
last leaves on a tree. I can see your love for me. Don't you
remember?"
The
undead dragon snapped at her, then tossed back his head and roared,
the cry of a monster, a cry of pain.
"Roen,
please . . . they're going to kill my father. They're going to kill
Korvin. You have to let me go. You have to let me save him."
Tears
in her eyes, Fidelity stared up toward the Cured Temple. Many
bonedrakes flew there, battling Domi and her firedrakes. Below this
aerial battle, Beatrix stood on the balcony, laughing, her glowing
hands raised. Korvin hung off the balcony upon chains that wrapped
around his torso, limbs, and neck. He was grabbing at the chain
around his throat, struggling to breathe, able only to gasp.
"Behold,
children of the Spirit!" Beatrix cried down to the crowd that
filled the courtyard. "Behold as Korvin, King of Weredragons,
dies in the Spirit's light!"
Light
flowed down Beatrix's arms and formed balls in her palms. She leaned
off the balcony and pointed down toward the hanging man. The light
flowed out of her fingers and slammed into Korvin.
Even
chained and barely able to breathe, Korvin screamed.
The
light raced across him like lightning. The chains flared as if woven
of light. Korvin thrashed, jerking on the chains, howling in agony.
Beatrix laughed, casting down more and more light.
"You
will die slowly, Korvin!" the High Priestess cried. "You
will endure all my pain before I let you fall."
Korvin
screamed and Fidelity cried out too.
"Roen!"
Her tears burned. "Roen, please! Let me go!"
The
bonedrake's claws drove against her, denting her armor. Roen raised
his heavy dragon skull and gazed up toward the balcony, then down at
Fidelity again. He cried out, confused, torn.
"Roen,"
Fidelity whispered. She caressed his claws. "It's me. It's your
Fidelity."
Bloody
tears flowed down his skull.
"Fiiiility,"
he whispered, the voice emerging from his jaws but sounding miles
away, a voice from another life.
The
foot lifted off her. His bony wings beat. And the bonedrake that had
been Roen took flight.
Fidelity
pushed herself onto her feet, dizzy, too weak to even summon her
magic and fly too. She stared up.
Roen
cried out again, and now it was a cry of rage, of pure fury like
Fidelity had never heard. The bonedrake soared, wings churning smoke,
until he hovered by the balcony. Standing before the bonedrake, still
blasting her light down onto Korvin, Beatrix gasped.
"Fly
back, my slave!" the High Priestess shouted. "Stand back,
or I'll grind your bones to dust."
Roen
reared in the sky, roared out his fury, and flew toward Beatrix, jaws
snapping and claws outstretched.
The
High Priestess screamed and thrust out her arms. The beams of light
left Korvin and slammed into Roen.
The
light blazed across the bonedrake, doubling in strength, cascading
like exploding suns.
Roen's
jaws opened, and he blasted out his own beam of light.
The
beam struck Beatrix.
The
High Priestess screamed and fell back, and her light flared out in an
inferno, crashing into Roen with the heat and light of a god.
With
a sound like shattering glass, like shattering souls, like nations
falling, Roen's bones blasted out in a fountain. Ribs, claws, femurs,
chips of skull, shreds of wings--all flew outward, then clattered
down into the courtyard.
Fidelity
watched and wept, for she had lost her lover again.
"Rest
now, Roen," she whispered, trembling. "Be at peace."
The
crowd fell silent. Even the bonedrakes and firedrakes that flew above
stared, ceasing their battle. Fidelity gazed up at the balcony, and
her heart leaped.
Korvin
was still alive . . . and he was climbing the chains toward the
balcony.
KORVIN
Dragons,
firedrakes, and bonedrakes battled above him. The crowd roared below.
And she waited above--Beatrix. The woman Korvin had fled, had fought
a war for, had fought a war against, the woman he had flown to this
city for, the woman he would now kill.
He
trembled with pain. He rasped for air. He climbed the chain.
A
bonedrake swooped toward him, screeching.
Korvin
grimaced, struggling to summon magic, unable to shift with the chains
still wrapped around his torso.
The
bonedrake opened its jaws, only yards away, prepared to tear into
him.
With
a flash of red scales, Amity streamed across the sky and slammed into
the skeleton, knocking it aside into a crowd of other bonedrakes. The
red dragon roared and laughed as she fought, the bonedrakes mobbing
her. Her tail and claws lashed, and her fire exploded across the sky.
Korvin
kept climbing the chain, link by link.
Covered
in blood and burns, he gripped the rim of the balcony, gritted his
teeth, and hefted himself up.