The
boluntiku
lunged, snapping with razor-sharp teeth and claws, their lava-hot bodies vapor one moment, solid the next. But their form didn’t seem to matter to the magic; Alexis spread a loop of cool blue light and threw it at the one nearest the gap. The lasso whistled into the creature, impacted, and clung, burning cool against hot. The
boluntiku
arched and screamed in pain, clawing at the tether, alternating between vapor and solid as it thrashed. Steam rose, along with a hissing noise and a terrible smell as the light ate into the lava creature, cooling it to stone.
Within minutes there was a statue where the thing had been.
“Score!” Nate shouted. “Hang on; we’ll get those others out in front!”
Though the words were an avian screech, she heard them in her skull, her head translating what her heart wasn’t sure it could cope with. Even as she formed another loop, tightened her knees on her mount’s warm, solid neck, and they banked to meet the next attack, part of her struggled to deal with the fact that her mount and Nate were one and the same. He was a shifter. He was also the Volatile, who was her protector, not her enemy. And he’d said he loved her.
A day ago, even a few hours ago, she would’ve given anything to hear him say that. Even now, the words thrummed through her heart like a melody of color. But there was a discord within that song, a splash of warning, of fear and knowing that Nate’s being a shifter fit too well. It explained his fierce independence and dislike of following orders. It explained his need for freedom, for privacy, for his own space.
“Alexis, look out!” Nate’s shout warned that she’d been thinking too much, fighting too little. She jolted to awareness just as a fanged creature rose up out of nowhere and grabbed at her, getting an edge of her shirt before falling free. Nate jammed a wing tip down and spun, so his belly faced the demon as it screamed and slashed. And scored.
Nate howled in pain and they tumbled for a second before he recovered and beat for the sky once again, gaining altitude, though obviously laboring.
Alexis leaned into him, calling, “That bomb thing. Can you do it again?”
I’ll try.
This time his response was purely mental, traveling along a bond she wasn’t yet ready to fully acknowledge or accept. She wrapped herself around him, following the link and opening herself to him, offering up to him all of the goddess’s power, and her own.
The fire magic spluttered to life around them, hissing and spitting and simultaneously gleaming with all colors and none. Holding on to the magic, he flew a wide arc around the five
boluntiku
closest to the barrier, and she tossed a loop of blue light that encompassed them all. Then, together, they threw his fire magic. White light flared, though softer than before, not a detonation so much as a firecracker. And when it cleared, the creatures had all turned to stone. The power drain, though, had been incredible.
Alexis’s body had gone numb, and her brain felt sluggish. Beneath her, the rhythm of Nate’s wings faltered and slowed, and his mental touch was weak. But though the lava creatures had been neutralized, the other demons weren’t far behind, and the barrier was almost completely torn—it could be repaired, but just barely, and she had to get there fast.
Even as she thought that, the black, tentacled creature that had pulled her through the barrier in the first place rose from the ground and planted itself squarely in front of the rip. For a second she thought it was going to dive through to earth. Then she realized it was waiting for her, planning to fend her off while the others escaped through the barrier.
Nate sent,
What do you think?
I’m guessing the phrase “we’re screwed” isn’t very helpful.
A ripple of amusement came down the shared link, and his energy strengthened just a little, or maybe hers did.
Not so much,
he agreed, then sobered.
You think your rainbow lasso trick will work? I’m tapped.
He’d used himself up getting to her, and saving her, and keeping them aloft.
It’ll have to,
she thought in return, but really, the answer was no. When she came down to it, Ixchel was a goddess of peace, not war. But failure simply wasn’t an option. “Let’s go!” she said aloud, and kicked her heels into his feathered sides. “Git-up!”
That got her a beady, backward glare.
I’m not a polo pony, princess.
But then he obeyed, flattening his wings to his body and diving for the attack, and she was screaming and hanging on as tightly as she could while they dove through hell, headed for the
Banol Kax
.
The word “kamikaze” came to mind, as did the phrase “what the fuck are we doing?” but really, there wasn’t another option, wasn’t anything to do but die trying. So she tightened her grip and called on the rainbow magic, bringing it not from blood sacrifice, but by thinking about Izzy, who’d raised her the very best she’d known how to; about her mother, who’d given her life for the former king; about her father, who’d done his part by loving his family, simply loving them . . . and about Nate, whom she both loved and feared now, in almost equal parts. Not because she thought he’d hurt her intentionally—he was too much his own man for that—but because she needed someone who needed her, who loved her willingly and took joy in the fact. Not someone who resented the emotion, and spent as much time away from her as with her. She’d tried to take love on many conditions before and it hadn’t been enough. This time—the last time—it would be all . . . or it would be nothing.
Now wasn’t the time for those thoughts, though. It was the time for love, the time to bring things together rather than ripping them to pieces. So she concentrated on the good times, on the strong times. She thought of the angle of Nate’s jaw in the morning light and the feel of his skin against hers, remembered the taste of him, and comfort of waking up beside him and knowing she wasn’t going to face the day alone. And as she thought those things, remembered those moments, the magic came.
Rainbow light flared around them, cocooning them in a protective barrier.
Nate screeched and flew faster, searching for a way around the Hydralike creature, which was a thick stalk of darkness with tentacles that whipped around it in a dark cloud, leaving no room for error. Alexis poured all that she had, all that she was, and all that they were together into the shield magic as they arrowed through a narrow gap between two flailing whips of evil.
One tentacle grabbed for them while another swiped deadly claws across her shield magic. Alexis cried out, feeling the deep furrows in the magic as though they’d been drawn across her own skin. Nate bellowed a challenge and dived, twisting, pinwheeling them away from the demon, and then they were free and arrowing up toward the gap.
The demon gave a great roar, leaped up, and snatched them from the sky.
Alexis screamed as the thing’s grip collapsed her shield inward. Yanking her MAC from her weapons belt, she unloaded the clip into the demon and barely made a dent. The thing laughed, a booming, echoing sound, and a gaping mouth opened in its thick, stalklike trunk. The tentacle that held Nate and Alexis started moving toward the fanged maw.
Suddenly golden light bloomed all around them, and trumpets sounded, seeming to come from everywhere at once. The Hydralike demon roared denial as a sinuous crimson-and-gold serpent shape arrowed through the gap in the barrier and dived, all full of anger and righteous wrath and justice, the creator god Kulkulkan come to save his children, the king and queen of the Nightkeepers coming to free their advisers.
Gold light sparked and hissed as the feathered serpent beat its red-plumed wings and scraped a huge, furrowed gash in the demon’s flesh. The creature howled in pain, losing its grip on Nate and Alexis, who fell free.
Go!
they heard Strike call, his mental touch borne on the skyroad.
Close the gap! We’ll buy you some time.
Kulkulkan dived, hissing and scratching as the demon reached to grab the god and other
Banol Kax
moved in, flanking the feathered serpent, surrounding him.
“Get to the gap!” Alexis shouted, not sure if Nate had heard Strike’s instructions. “We’ve got to fix it!”
Even now she could feel the planets moving past the equinox, could feel the barrier starting to thicken and set in place. In a few more minutes there would be no hope of closing the tear. She had to work fast.
When they reached the gigantic rip, she was shaking with fatigue and nerves, and the sinking fear that she wasn’t going to be strong enough, that she had already lost before she’d begun. Nate grabbed on to an edge of the barrier with his hooked talons, perching precariously in the gap itself.
Do your thing, babe.
“I don’t know if I can.” Failure pressed at her, alongside the knowledge that she wasn’t just disappointing the Nightkeepers; she could very well be dooming the world, and all because she’d used up her magic, because she wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t good enough. She was a pale shadow of what she should’ve been, what she would’ve been if she’d been raised as had been meant, if she’d known all that she was supposed to know.
She knew Nate sensed all those things from her, thought that he would try to reassure her. Instead, though, he said, very softly,
I love you, Lexie.
And then he opened to her, sending her all the love that was inside him, all his respect for her, his fascination with her, his awe at the person she was—imperfectly human, and perfect for the man he’d become while knowing her.
The emotions were colors, but to call them rainbows was too little, too weak a term. They were sparkles and illumination, loving blues and purples and greens so much deeper and more vibrant than anything that had ever come from cool white light, and sensual reds, oranges, and yellows that kindled fires in her nerve endings, reminding her of the slide of skin on skin, the explosion of orgasm. The strength of those feelings lit her up from within, leveling her, strengthening her, and bringing magic from love rather than sacrifice.
She raised her hands, and colors flowed from her fingertips, the strands of light taking flight and heading unerringly for the jagged edges of the barrier. She started at the top, high into the sky, and began to weave, folding the colors together and fighting the darkness onto one side of the barrier, light onto the other. When the anchors were set, she held her breath and tugged on the rainbows.
And watched the gap draw together at the top.
Way to go, babe!
The hawk’s screech was so full of manly pride it almost sounded human. Or maybe it
was
human; she hadn’t fully dealt with that yet. All she knew was that she couldn’t do this without him, that she needed his love, his strength. He was her anchor, her support, just as she had been his during the fight. They’d deal with the rest later, as people rather than warriors. She hoped.
She kept working, weaving the strands of light into the barrier and tying them off, forming a magical patch over the blockade built by her ancestors. It was easy at the top, but grew increasingly more difficult lower down, partly because tension was pulling the edges apart, partly because the equinox was fading, and partly because she was fading. Her head pounded in synchrony with her heart, and sweat beaded her brow and trickled down her spine. Her hands shook as she heard trumpeting behind and below, and knew the king and queen were fighting a rear-guard action, buying time.
Move it,
she told herself. She had to hurry! The adviser in her couldn’t believe she was letting Strike and Leah fight for her when it should’ve been the other way around. But the Godkeeper in her knew this was her battle, her destiny, and—
Focus, love.
It was Nate’s voice, cool and blue with calm, tinted red with love. He poured more energy into her, poured love into her, supporting her and steadying her. She let herself lean, let herself believe in him, in them, for the moment at least. She got past the midpoint of the patch job and the tension lessened, though the barrier was thickening as she worked, making it more difficult to draw the edges together, more difficult even to thread the tear with rainbow light. But the gap drew together; the opening narrowed.
When it was as small as she dared, she said, “Let’s switch sides.” Nate obligingly ducked through, so they were on the earth side of the barrier, where they belonged. She kept working, threading and pulling madly, bringing the torn edges together as she sent,
Nochem? Time for you guys to haul ass, or we’re going to have to come in there after you.
Coming!
came Strike’s reply. There was a trumpet fanfare that ended on what sounded suspiciously like a raspberry, and then a golden blur arrowed through the last narrow gap. When the flying serpent god was through, back in the thin air of the Andes mountains, high above the cloud forest, Alexis worked as fast as she could, as fast as she dared, threading and pulling like a madwoman.
She tied off the final suture just as the Hydralike demon hit the gap, slamming into the seam and straining the rainbow weft. The patch job parted and groaned, stretching slightly. But it didn’t give.
“It’s holding!” Alexis called, and was answered by Nate’s screech of joy and Kulkulkan’s clarion bugle. And as they watched, the hold grew stronger still, the barrier knitting together along the sewn line, healing along a seam of magic. Her heart kicked at the sight. “We did it!”