Sarah rolled on the floor in agony as the blows
finally came to an end and she was dimly aware of her assailant stepping
away. She tried to look up, but
everything seemed a blur and Diana's distorted form seemed even more so,
distant and vague as it was.
"You left me," she said, her first words
since the attack began, "you left me and you went off with her!" Diana could hardly have sounded more bitter.
"I... didn't... have... a... choice..."
Sarah replied feebly.
"By Lakhma you did! Everyone has a choice... you just took the
easier path, the cowardly one."
"You think... staying with her... was
easy?"
"It was apparently easier than holding to your
convictions, or did you even have any of those?"
Sarah wanted to reply, to defend herself somehow,
but like the pummelling she had just received, there was nothing she could do
to stop there words from hitting home.
After all, they were true. Had
she not secretly feared as much all
along?
Diana stared at her a moment longer, then snorted in
disgust. "I've wasted enough time
on you," she said, starting to turn away, "but don't ever cross my
path again."
Sarah rolled onto her back and closed her eyes,
listening to the huntress' heavy footfalls fading away into the distance.
Oh god,
she thought, not even pretending it was a prayer, what have I done?
Ellis continued after the shout he had heard. It persisted, at intervals, just enough for
him to keep focussed on the direction and though the short corridors twisted
back and forth, he felt they were leading him onwards to where he needed to be
- the sense of some power watching over him was only growing greater, though he
did not understand it at all. The voice
he recognised, however, having determined that the shrill, piping sound could
only have come from Annabella.
By the time he neared the source of her shouts, however,
he could hear other sounds - the stomps and clashing blades, grunts and cries
of a battle being fought. He rounded a
corner to find himself in a much wider passage, with a good eight feet clear to
either side, stretching on into indefinite distance and, in the foreground,
Annabella stood to one side, watching Siren battling away with a force of
humans and stoneskins who very nearly surrounded her. She was somehow managing to hold her, own,
despite being overwhelmingly outnumbered, but it was clearly a struggle.
Ellis gripped the blade in his hand and charged.
They had never really fought alongside each other
like this - like equals. As Ellis joined
the fray and began manoeuvring in and out of the enemies, parrying their blows
and catching them with his own as the opportunities arrived, it felt like a kind of dance, for Siren was
doing just the same, indeed they almost mirrored each other, working their way
through the group of Noble Society soldiers.
He wasn't the only one surprised.
Siren's eyes widened at first as she saw him move, but she didn't let it
distract her from the work at hand, and was soon focussed fully on the her
blades and the weaknesses of the enemy.
Within minutes it was all over, the men and
lithoderms dead, dying or unconscious on the floor beneath them and Siren was
staring at him wonderingly, swords at her side.
"Where did you learn those moves?" she
asked.
"I didn't, at least..." how could he
explain it? "I think I was just
given them."
Siren nodded thoughtfully. "Yes.
I can feel it too. Something
wants us here and wants us to survive.
That's the third wave of those that Annabella and I have encountered and
each one has been easier than it should have been. Half of the second group were killed by a
suddenly shifting section of wall, for example." She shook her head, "I don't know what
is going on, but I guess we don't have time to stand around chatting about
it."
"No," Ellis replied, but for a moment all
he could do was stare at her. She was
the most beautiful woman he had ever known and it just staggered him to think
that she was his girlfriend, but it felt right, that he could not deny. There had been a moment in the middle of the
fighting when they had been in perfect unison, almost as if they were able to
anticipate each other's move and respond accordingly. That's what I want, he thought, just
that, forever.
"Are you alright?" Siren asked and Ellis
realised he had been staring just a little too long.
"Yes, yes," he replied, "I was just
thinking..."
"Well, try not to make a habit out of it."
"Are we going to move now?" Annabella
chimed in innocently enough, although when Ellis glanced at her he was almost
certain she had just concealed a wicked smile.
"Yes, of course," he said, "which
way?"
"I take it there's nothing back the way you
came?" Siren asked.
"It's all more of the same."
"Then there was a turning a little bit back
that way we could try."
"Might as well," Ellis conceded then held
out his hands. Siren's was there
immediately, warm and silken, even with the slight roughness of life at sea and
working with weapons. Annabella was more
tentative, but soon her little hand was in his other and they were walking off
to face the next obstacle.
Frostfire could smell his quarry. After all the smoke and fire and blood and
destruction of Shalereef, the gently musty interior of the obelisk was almost
refreshing, and though there must have been many beings navigating its
impossible corridors, it was Doctor Barkham’s scent which seemed to hang on the
ancient, dusty air. He followed it,
trailed it, pulled it in with every breath and let it propel him forwards,
towards his ultimate goal, towards his revenge.
And what revenge it would be, how delicious, how
sweet, how just and justly deserved. He
had been working towards it for so long now, or so it seemed. The past few months it had really been all he
could think about, every move he had made had been calculated towards its end
and, though so little had turned out how he had planned, still, here he was,
approaching the denouement he so wanted – needed! It was almost too much. Every cell seemed to be bursting with energy,
building towards critical mass, towards… the Moment.
He was running now, chasing the scent, talons
clawing the walls to scrabble past them, until he was almost on all fours –
some predator, some hound, some beast out for blood. He was not always alone – Tiberius’ soldiers
filled more than one corridor along the pursuit – but neither flesh, nor bone,
slate, nor stone could stand between him and his destiny. Blood, dust and searing ichor streamed away
from his claws and he did not care.
I will have
her, her thought, though less in words and more in feral, visceral images,
all grand guignol and the insatiable sated.
Then he turned a corner and there she was and standing
just across the room from her, staring with those green eyes glowing, yet hard,
was her daughter, Diana. His claws
scratched the glowing stone floor as he skidded to a halt, but neither mother
nor daughter seemed to notice he was there at all.
She’s just
there, he thought, part of him still desperate to tear into her flesh and
see the blood spill, but there was a chill seeping into his blood and he found
himself suddenly short of breath, bound to the spot and unable to do much more
than watch.
“I wondered when you’d show up,” Rosetta was saying,
and not to him, “I didn’t think our conversation back in Fracture would be our
last.”
“Next-to-last, maybe,” Diana replied before she leapt.
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