I look up…and up…and up…into the face of a monster.
It’s enormous.
Taller than a house, taller than my neighbor’s house, I realize in the back of my mind as it towers over me.
It has spikes along its leathery spine, and it’s standing on its back legs as wide as tree trunks.
It looks a little like Godzilla, if all of his features were larger and much more threatening and pointy, and as it opens its mouth, as its razor sharp teeth, longer than my arm, I think dully in the back of my head, it lets out a sound that no low-budget Godzilla movie could ever duplicate.
This is a scream and a moan and a growl and a screech, all rolled into one.
It hisses at me, and the spines along its back flatten as it narrows its eyes and bares its teeth down at me.
I stare up at this beast, this monster, as I hold my dying dog in my arms.
I hate that beast so much in that instant that white, hot rage burns me through stronger than the fear.
This
thing
hurt my dog.
It’s going to hurt me, but before it hurts me, it hurt this beautiful, innocent dog that I’ve loved with my whole heart ever since the day I met her as this ridiculous little puppy who wagged her tail at me the second she saw me, and has never stopped wagging it since.
The creature opens its mouth and lets out a scream again, and I realize that my body is shaking as I hold Shelley tightly.
I realize I’m going to die.
It’s going to lunge at me, sink its teeth in me, and it’s going to hurt so much.
God, I don’t want to die.
I don’t want it to hurt like this.
I stare up at that monster, and fear fills me like water, rushing into every part of me as I hold tightly to my dog.
“Stand and face me, beast!”
I and the beast turn at that, and striding across the lawn toward us is Virago.
She’s holding her sword aloft with cold, clear anger etched hard on her face.
As I stare at her, I realize that she’s only wearing her leather shirt and her leather pants.
Her armor is on the floor of my bedroom.
Panic consumes me as Virago lengthens her stride, as she trains her piercing blue gaze onto the beast.
“Virago, don’t!” I scream, but then Virago is in front of me, shielding me and Shelley from the beast.
She’s an amazing warrior.
I know this.
But her armor is on the floor of my bedroom.
Virago could die.
“Please don’t,” I tell her, lifting Shelley up with some difficulty.
The beast hasn’t moved, is simply standing there, narrowed eyes calculating as it stares at us.
“Please don’t,” I tell her again, a sob making the words come out small, but Virago’s arm is around me tightly as she pushes me behind her, as she stands straight and tall, holding the sword in a challenge up to the beast.
Shelley wiggles a little in my arms, glancing up at me then with actually open eyes.
I stare down at my dog, then back up at the beast, shock and terror making everything seem extra sharp and more real, somehow.
The claws that come out of the sky are attached to a massive paw, a paw that’s as wide as Virago is tall.
It swipes at Virago and me and Shelley, but misses somehow, because Virago’s arm around me tightens, and then she’s lifting me and Shelley in one arm, and moving us across the lawn.
I stumble a little when she sets me down as gently as possible, turning and swinging the sword up at the last possible moment to block the attack.
There are sparks where the claws and the blade meet, and then Virago is pushed backward, toppling backward, rolling across the lawn as the beast swipes at her again.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
We were all supposed to rent a boat and do a calm, peaceful meditation out on the water and open the portal and send the beast to a place between worlds and send Virago home.
It was supposed to be practically
serene
.
No one was supposed to get hurt.
It’s not supposed to happen like this.
But it is.
I scream.
I find my voice, and I’m shrieking as the beast turns suddenly, moving too quickly for sight as it swipes its barbed and deadly tail at Virago.
Virago rolls out of the way, falling heavily on her shoulder, just in time, but she’s slower getting up this time as she rises, holding the sword tightly in front of her and panting.
The beast grapples forward, lunging and crawling on all fours over my neighbor’s fence (flattening it in the process with a shriek of broken wood).
The beast swings again with its barbed tail, and Virago rolls to the right…
Under the beast’s claws.
Virago makes no sound as the claws rip through the leather of her shirt, piercing up and into her ribs.
The beast lifts up its paw and its claws, Virago dangling on the end of them, her stomach pierced through.
I’m screaming as the beast throws Virago to the ground, as it makes its own triumphant sounds, turning its gaze now on me.
But I don’t even see it.
I run over to Virago with Shelley in my arms, set my dog onto the ground as gently as I can as I cradle Virago to me.
Virago’s eyelashes flutter, and her eyes close, blood pulsing and pumping out of the wounds in her stomach out and onto the ground.
Overhead, lightning arches, brightening up everything like a strobe light.
The beast makes a terrible sound, part scream of defiance, part roar.
The sword lies in the grass beside Virago’s limp hand.
She’s unconscious.
Perhaps she’s dying.
I don’t know.
But the woman I love with my whole heart saved me, and now she’s giving her life for it.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
I stare up at the monster, tears making everything blurry as I set Virago’s head gently down onto the grass.
I grasp the hilt of the sword with two hands, but even holding it in two hands, it’s practically impossible for me to lift it up, it’s so heavy.
But there’s adrenaline pulsing through me now, and I lift it up, manage to hold it level with my heart as I point it at the beast.
If I didn’t know better, I would think it’s laughing at me as it throws its head back, as it shrieks again.
I’m going to die.
But I’m not going to die like this, with my lover bleeding at my feet, my dog dying in my backyard.
I’m going to die causing this beast at least a shred of the pain it caused me.
I don’t even go to the gym, but adrenaline is still moving through me with every pulse, and that’s what gives me the courage to move forward now.
And I do.
I lunge forward as quickly as I’m able, swinging the sword around.
I don’t think the beast was expecting anything from me.
Because it didn’t move when I moved.
It stays perfectly still as I slam into it.
I bury the sword in its stomach.
I bury the sword all the way up to the hilt.
Overhead, lightning arches across the sky again as the beast tilts back its head, screaming in agony as it begins to writhe in front of me.
I hold onto the sword for all I’m worth as the beast scrabbles with its claws, but its writhing is growing weaker.
I hold onto the sword, panting, until the beast doesn’t move anymore, as its head slumps down onto the ground, and it twitches beneath the sword.
And then something even stranger happens.
I’m still clinging to the sword, but it begins to fall out of the beast.
Because the beast simply isn’t there anymore.
For a single moment, there’s a glowing light that’s so bright, I can’t see anything at all.
But then I can make out the fact that there’s a woman lying on the ground in front of me, the sword sticking out of her side.
She has long black hair that’s matted and tangled, and she appears to be wearing animal skins stitched into a crude dress.
She has the palest skin I’ve ever seen, and when she opens her eyes to look at me, I take a step backward.
They’re jet black, those eyes.
There aren’t any pupils or irises…her entire eye is as black as the night sky.
She opens her thin lips and moans.
I keep holding onto the sword because I don’t know what else to do.
“Be merciful,” says the woman in a sibilant hiss, then.
“Kill me.”
“Who are you?” I say, my voice shaking but my grip on the sword still strong.
The woman casts me an almost disgusted glance.
“I am Cower,” she whispers, drawing out the word with a half-snarl.
“And I was once a Goddess.
But I have been a beast for so long, and now this…I have been defeated by a mewling woman.
Kill me.
I cannot bear the shame.”
Anger rakes its way through me, but I continue to grip onto the hilt of the sword, cast a glance back at Virago.
I can see her chest rising and falling weakly.
She’s still alive.
But she’s losing so much blood.
Shelley is breathing, too.
They’re both still alive.
I don’t know what to do.
“Why are you in…uh…human form now?” I hazard to Cower.
The woman gives me another disgusted look.
“I become what I truly am when I am vanquished,” she says, like she’s reciting rules from some rulebook.
“Finish me off, mortal.
I can’t bear this.”
I stare down at her for a long moment.
Virago might die.
The woman I love with my whole heart is bleeding in front of me.
I should kill this creature…this woman, I guess.
This beast.
She’s done so much harm.
But I’m no killer.
I did what I had to do to save Virago.
I’m not going to have anyone’s blood on my hands.
“No,” I tell her.
And then I jerk the sword out of her stomach.
Cower makes a gurgling sound as I toss the sword into the middle of my backyard.
I move away from her, crouch down next to Virago, tears beginning to leak out of my eyes.
“Virago,” I whisper, cradling her head into my arms, pressing my lips to her cold forehead.
Virago’s
never
cold.
Something is terribly wrong.
“Virago…” I say, but then I’m weeping, choking out the syllables of her name over and over again as I hold her to me as tightly as I can.
She’s dying.
I can feel her dying in my arms, can fell all of her strength, all of her
life
leaving her.
“Virago, just use the magic…” I whisper to her, taking a deep breath.
“Please use the magic to make yourself better.
You can make yourself better.
Please
.”
From somewhere far away, I can hear voices.
Yelling.
People running across the lawn toward us.
Carly skids to a stop next to me.
And Aidan, too, my brother paling immediately upon seeing the sight of so much blood, blood that continues to stream out of Virago’s middle, soaking the lawn beneath her.
Suddenly, I know what to do.
It’s the slightest chance, but it’s the only possible thing I can think of.
The only thing I can think of that might save her.
“Aidan,” I tell him, gritting my teeth as I choke down another sob.
“Can you make the circle appear?
Can you make the portal?”
He stares at me, eyes wide, already shaking his head.
“I don’t know, Holly…God, maybe?
The rest of the coven members are going to get here soon, and I don’t know if I can do it without them…anyway, why do you want the circle?
Where’s the beast?”
I shake my head.
“The beast is a woman now.
Like in the story Virago told us,” I tell him when he stares at me blankly.
I jerk my chin toward the woman lying in the grass, paling as blood pools out of
her
side, too.
“Listen, this isn’t about her,” I tell him quickly.
“Virago’s dying.
She won’t wake up.
She healed herself before, right?
If we can get her to her knights, they can probably heal her.”
He stares at me with confusion, and I shake my head again.
“Aidan, it’s the only way.
She’s dying.
I can feel her
dying
,” I whisper.
“She needs help.”
He rubs his face, takes a deep breath.
“Okay.
I mean,
maybe
I can make the portal appear.
I don’t know.
But you’ll have to help me, you need to concentrate, too.
Carly, concentrate.
Imagine a big white circle on the grass, okay?”
“Like, white light, or just a white circle?” asks Carly, her voice strained.