The Scourge of Gods

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Eriden followed the mercenaries into the highest tier of Rhydon City. The air reeked of smoke and fire, and the skies were dark with the flitting of Abasi's demons. Bodies of Siivalen women littered the streets. Their large, dirty frames rested in ditches and gutters, like silt after a heavy rain.

Holding on to his rising sadness and anger, Eriden tried to keep his head up as both emotions warred in his heart. He may have been an Inquisitor for the magi, but he hadn't actively killed anyone since his days as a soldier. He clenched his fists, the depths of his rage coming as a shock to him.

He should have deserted the military years ago when he had had the chance.

Naya tucked her rugged, chitinous arm back into her sha'hin. "Besides one, every energy signature in the city has vanished. I can taste the fog of other worlds, which leads me to believe the Imigi and Siivalen escaped through portals."

"They've slipped away again, it seems," said Vetis.

Maro growled deep in his throat. "The fault lies in those damn spirits."

To say the Imigi's pets had been easy to deal with would have been an understatement. They had sent out Moon Sentinels, a trio of spirit gods that had slowed down the mercenaries' pursuit and almost brought down meteors upon the city in their final breaths.

"In any case," said Naya, "the remaining inhabitant isn't a target."

"Give me an analysis," said Maro.

"The person isn't encased in flesh. That fact alone indicates it's a spirit witch; probably one of the Siivalen. And due to the smoothness of her energy contours, she's also a sound adept of immense power. Such purity makes her much older than the Imigi."

Maro smiled. "Then she might prove an interesting opponent."

They stopped before a palace's open, stone-patterned entrance at the very top of the hill. Abasi whistled some off-key tune, placing a finger on one of his tattoos near his elbow. The winged demons flickered out of existence, steeping the city in silence.

Eriden walked inside the building. A miasma of blood and death emanated from the chamber beyond, thick and humid as a lion's maw. He slipped out one of his sabers from its back-brace, wary. He turned the obsidian-edged weapon in his hands, the most deadly of his blades.

Naya nocked an arrow to her reinforced bow, stretching the string back until she pierced the corridor with its grinding tension. The air and light around Vetis' hands were distorted with some sort of spell, and Maro and Abasi walked forward—arms at their sides—most likely confident in whatever means they had of defending themselves.

Eriden entered the chamber.

A Siivalen witch almost nine feet tall sat on a throne at the center of the dimming courtroom. She gazed at the ruins below of the once great city, eyes hard, face pale and weary. Surrounding her was a ring of dead witches. Their skin was desiccated and ashen, eyes burnt from their skulls. Further off to the side a grotesque figure lay crumpled, each body part different and outlandish.

Eriden's throat tightened. Was that...Seve? He couldn't be sure, but it had to be him. Perhaps he should have been more shocked, but in a battle against witches, it was bound to happen. More death. More violence. He brushed the woman's mind, tickling the very edges of its vast landscape. Esme. That was her name. She was the prime minister of Rhydon, and ancient beyond belief.

"My beautiful, foolish servants took their own lives here," said the witch, gaze never faltering. "They wished to accompany me and this dimension into collapse." She gestured with an elegant wave of her fingers. "And your friend seemed to have the same desire, for whatever reason."

Maro stepped closer to the wiccan queen. "Where are the Imigi?"

"Somewhere else, you stupid little man." Esme shrugged. "I've used what is left of my power to seal the portals my people and the Imigi escaped through. The cost of meddling with this universe. Not even the most skilled Guardian will be able to open them." She finally glanced at him. "I had hoped to save some of my magic to liquefy your organs, but alas."

"More's the pity."

Vetis folded his arms. "She's right. The portals have been bolted shut."

Eriden sighed inwardly. The witches had put another obstacle in Maro's way, and he was glad for it. He didn't know why, but he was. But he's grown tired of chasing them. At this rate, the mercenaries and himself would die and be lost in the spirit world forever.

"What will you do now?" asked Esme.

A dagger of compressed fire slipped out of Maro's fists. He smiled.