“And contaminated her.”
“At first, nothing happened. She was both relieved and angered. Traveling back to her home world—I believe Cainer called it Ghaoithe—she began to feel poorly. Her body temperature soared and she reported she felt as though she were encased in a giant oven. Her back hurt terribly along the wound yet when she tried to lie down, she felt as though something was lodged against her spine. She could not get comfortable for the pain kept getting worse. Within an hour of her journey home, she realized there was something alive wiggling around inside her lower back.”
Evann-Sin winced. “The spores were growing?”
“
Something
was growing,” Jabali replied. “Soon, she could feel whatever it was shifting, bunching up along her spine then a horrible pain lanced through her back and she fell to the floor of her airship, screaming in agony.”
Evann-Sin noted the strange way the Mage labeled the woman’s ship but let it pass. He was more concerned with the implication of what Jabali had said. “What was inside her?” the warrior asked, his eyes wide.
“A minute parasite that lived on the spores of the lycant plant. Cainer later learned that once the parasite enters a host body, it punctures a small artery and travels through the bloodstream until it reaches the kidneys. It is there that it feeds on the blood until it is large enough to attach itself to the host’s kidney. What Zenia had felt in that terrible moment of pain was the parasite breaking free of the artery and biting into her kidney. As it grew, it produced offspring that formed a hive. Cainer likened it to a queen bee with her larvae. Once seated within the host’s body, it will remain for the entirety of the host’s lifespan.”
The warrior looked as though he might throw up. He shifted his shoulders, squirming against the image the Mage’s words conjured. “There was no way for her to rid herself of it?”
“Not once the parasite is firmly attached to the kidney. To kill the parasite is to seriously wound—if not destroy—the host. If I understood Cainer correctly, though, the chances of eliminating the entire nest are virtually impossible.”
“That’s a reassuring thought.” Evann-Sin shuddered. “She changed to the wolf thing.”
Jabali nodded. “Her skin expanded and her bones lengthened, fur sprouted all over her body, her face elongated into the snout of a wolf-creature.” He held up his hands. “Her hands and feet changed into those of a beast with thick, black leathery skin. All this was accompanied by cracking, popping sounds that made her think she was about to burst apart. She snarled like a beast and salivated like one as she changed, arching her back and writhing on the floor. She found she could not speak—only growls came from behind her sharp fangs. When it was all over, the Transition complete, she stood hunkered there on all fours, amazed that she was still living. Padding over to a mirror, she rose up on her hind legs and looked into the glass, startled to see a pelt of thick white fur covering her from head to toe.”
“That had to have been a horrible sight.”
“Cainer said she told him she was elated to see what she had become. She grinned at herself in the mirror, threw her head back and howled! She thought she had found the way to slay Cainer and any others who might anger her. Somehow—inside that animalistic brain—she knew she would change back.”
“Her main thought was still one of getting even with him.”
“Aye and when the blood lust, the hunger overtook her, she thrilled to think of herself sinking her fangs into his throat, ripping him apart and draining him dry.”
“Obviously that didn’t happen.”
“Not in the way she planned, no.” Jabali noticed the warrior frowning. “What concerns you, milord?”
“If Zenia was the first of her kind…”
“The first human of her kind,” Jabali corrected.
“All right, I understand that, but who discovered that evil in the first place and how did he know what it would do?”
“One day a healer was walking with his beloved pet dog in the rainforest at Reseullo. The dog was sniffing around the plant and apparently inhaled some of the spores. Once inside the animal, the spores migrated rapidly to its bloodstream and before the night was over, that once gentle, very tame dog had changed into a ravaging beast. It attacked a littermate and tore it to shreds, lapping up the blood like milk. The Healer—fearing for the safety of his wife and children—shot the animal with something Cainer called a laser weapon, yet the animal still lived.”
Evann-Sin blinked. “The Healer must have been a fairly bad shot.”
“The Healer shot the animal seven times at close range but he could not kill the beast. Each time, the wound would heal within a matter of moments. Stunned, the Healer finally doused the animal with fuel of some sort and set it afire. That did the trick but as the animal smoldered, something crawled out of its body and lay there slithering on the floor.”
“The parasite.”
“The parasite,” Jabali concurred. “Now the Healer was a very intelligent man and knew there had to be a correlation between the spores his pet had inhaled and what had caused the transformation. He poured more oil on the writhing thing and burned it to a crisp. Later, he entered information about the plant in his journal, warning others not to go near it for if it did that to a dog, what might it do to a human?”
“I take it Zenia did not understand the warning.”
“Or paid no heed to it in her desire to have revenge on Cainer Cree.”
“Not only a vindictive woman but a stupid one.”
“By the time she docked her airship at Ghaoithe, she was nearly insane with bloodlust. She realized that she would need to consume blood in order to feed the thing inside her for it was draining her own at an enormous rate. She was weak and her body aching for the taste of what Cainer referred to as Sustenance.”
“A delightful thought,” Evann-Sin observed, his face wrinkled with distaste.
“Once on shore, she stalked her first kill and devoured the hapless one, literally tearing the body apart in her frenzy. She found she liked the powers she now possessed—strength beyond anything she could have ever imagined and an ability to intercept the thoughts of others. She then set out to capture Cainer Cree and make him pay for spurning her.”
“He must have got wind of her plans then if he ran from her.”
“Aye, well, she sent word to him that she was coming after him. At first, he laughed it off, but when the mutilated remains of her victims began appearing on his very doorstep, he stopped laughing. She left mangled bodies in her wake. He would have gone after her but learned she was stalking the woman Cainer intended for his own. Knowing he had to do something, he took his own airship and fled, knowing she would follow.”
“I’m beginning to like this man,” Evann-Sin stated.
“He led her far out into the heavens for he wanted her well away from anyone she could harm. But a violent storm came up, and he was blown off course and into the strangeness he called the wormhole.”
“And she was right behind him.”
Jabali nodded. “This wormhole he likened to a mighty vortex that swallowed his ship and sucked hers in as well. It spat him out not only in the distant past but also in an entirely different heaven.”
Evann-Sin sighed deeply. “Much of this is beyond my understanding, Master. It would be best if you just told me what happened next.”
“His airship was fast running out of fuel, and he knew he would never be able to return home. Ahead, he saw another world and it was to this strange place he aimed his craft for he had resigned himself to die, but he had also made a sacred vow that he would take Zenia with him.”
The warrior was fascinated with the tale and though he was numb inside from the loss of his lady, he had to know the rest of it. He unconsciously moved to a chair and slowly sat down.
Jabali cleared his throat and finished the tale.
“Once they had landed upon this new world, Cainer left his ship to confront his adversary. He had every intention of killing her then turning his weapon upon himself. He did not want to live without the lady he loved more than life itself.”
Evann-Sin closed his eyes briefly. “I can well understand how he felt.”
“As soon as she left her ship he fired upon her, cold, murderous intent guiding his aim, but he knew nothing of Zenia’s new abilities. She did not go down under the assault though it staggered her. Several more times—as she calmly walked toward him, a vengeful smile on her face—he tried to put her down but it was not to be. He emptied his weapon yet still she came on.”
“That had to have amazed him.”
“He thought he was dealing with a demoness and—truth be told—he was. Zenia was evil incarnate. He realized he could no longer take his own life, and had no desire to allow her to put her hands upon him so he ran. She began stalking him across the green hills and valleys of Chale.
“Long into the night she toyed with him, easily keeping pace with him for her strength was much greater than his own. When at last he was winded, tired, heartsick, he came to an ancient ruin and standing at the door to that ruin was an old woman so ancient, her flesh so thin, he imagined he could see through her. She was holding up a lantern and beckoning him inside the ruin.”
“She was one of the Chalean holy women?” Evann-Sin asked breathlessly.
“The most Holy of their Holies,” Jabali responded.
“Who?” the warrior whispered.
“Morrigunia,” Jabali told him. “The Goddess of War, Life and Death.”
Evann-Sin drew in a breath. “I have heard of her!” he exclaimed. “She comes to a warrior when his life is in danger.”
“Aye,” the Mage agreed. “It is said she appears to a hero on the day he is to die. The old crone image is only one of her personas. She has many forms and can change her shape at will. Most often, she comes in the form of a raven. Legend has it that in the form of that crow she will perch on a battlefield and watch men destroying men, saving those she deems worthy.”
“She was there to protect him?”
“He was a warrior among warriors, was he not? And the most fine-looking of men?” At Evann-Sin’s roll of his eyes, Jabali smiled. “I’ve seen the man, milord. I tell you now—he is an exceptionally handsome man.”
“Morrigunia found him to her liking so she protected him from Zenia.”
“No, for she had seen him try to kill Zenia. She was there to make sure he did not escape the woman tracking him.”
“Well, hell,” Evann-Sin grumbled. “I would have thought she’d keep him safe and punish the woman trying to kill
him
.”
“Morrigunia knew what Zenia was. She had foreseen her coming. A human who could change her shape intrigued the Goddess. She wanted to know the secret of this ability so she could bestow it upon her favored warriors.”
“I don’t see it as an advantage,” Evann-Sin declared. “I see it as a curse.”
“And Morrigunia saw it that way, as well. Changing into an animal was a fine thing but behaving as one, drinking blood like one, was distasteful to the goddess.”
“So why not destroy the woman and the evilness with her?”
“Because Morrigunia wanted Zenia to turn Cainer into one like herself. She had plans for him.”
“What did he do when he saw the old woman at the ruin?”
“He ran to her and she led him deep within the ruin. The ruin had a name, by the way—it was called Speal Buanaí. Translated in ancient Chalean, it means Scythe of the Reaper. It was the home of Bás.” At Evann-Sin’s quizzical look, Jabali said quietly, “Death.”
“She was leading him to his death.”
Jabali nodded.
“Zenia, of course, came after them. She had not seen the old woman and when finally found Cainer, he was in a small circular room, a dead end. He turned, came at her, but she threw herself on him and sank her teeth into his neck. Even as strong as he was, he could not escape her and she took him to the stone floor and tried to siphon every drop of his blood. Though he struggled, he could not dislodge her and finally stop struggling.”
“But she did not kill him as she planned.”
“Before she could take all his blood and devour him as she no doubt intended, Morrigunia materialized behind her with scythe in hand and severed the mad woman’s head from her body.”
“Wasn’t that redundant since she’d already lost her head over Cainer?” the warrior chuckled.
Jabali tried to look stern but failed. He covered his laughter with a discreet cough. “Behave, warrior,” he warned.
Evann-Sin pressed his lips together—though his eyes sparkled with humor—and held up his hand to bid the Mage go on.
“Cainer was lying on the floor. He had turned over to his belly and was trying to push himself up, but he was dying and he knew it. Morrigunia stood over him—scythe in hand—and watched as the parasite wriggled free of Zenia’s decapitated body. It lay there flopping on the stone floor as though its own head had been severed from its body. Bending down to push Cainer’s shirt out of the evil thing’s way, the Goddess of War, Life and Death lowered her scythe and cut a slit in the warrior’s back.”
“Over his kidney,” Evann-Sin said, and then swallowed as though he were about to be sick.
“As soon as the tiny trickle of blood caught the beastess’ attention, it raised its green triangular head and flicked out its forked tongue. In the space of a heartbeat, it shot forward and slithered onto the warrior’s now unconscious body. Morrigunia leaned against her bloody scythe and watched the creature disappear inside Cainer Cree.”