The Prophecy Con (Rogues of the Republic) (34 page)

BOOK: The Prophecy Con (Rogues of the Republic)
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Kutesosh gajair’is!”
the ax cried.

Desidora blasted through the corpse and caught the blow from the ax just behind Ghylspwr’s head.

“I believe that’s our line,” she said, caving in another corpse’s skull with a backhanded strike and then coming in low against the Imperial warrior. His ax knocked the blow aside, and he spun with the motion, coming around with a backhanded strike of his own.

Desidora slid under it with skill Ghylspwr had lent her, parrying high so that the ax only sliced through a single strand of auburn hair, and as she came back to her feet, Ghylspwr was already circling down, then up and around to come down with a great overhand strike.

The Imperial warrior blocked it.

That was just what Ghylspwr had hoped.

The Imperial warrior smashed down through the deck, the planks giving way to the force of Ghylspwr’s mighty blow, and sank down to his armpits, legs dangling down in the hold below.

“Hey!” Kail yelled, even as he caved in an undead dwarf’s skull. “Could you
not
?”

Desidora smashed through one zombie, then blasted aside another. Ahead of her, Icy leaped, kicked a zombie to the ground, twisted in midair, and somehow kicked a zombie’s head off before landing. “Hessler assured me that they have no souls,” he said as Desidora approached.

“Their spirits are being held in cruel bondage, prevented from reaching the afterlife—”

“Diz!” Kail shouted, kicking a zombie in the knee. “Don’t complicate it for the man!”

“Yes, no souls!” Desidora passed Ghylspwr to Tern, who took it with her one good arm. “Here!”

“Why am I holding Ghylspwr?” Tern asked. “And did you see Arikayurichi, the Bringer of Order? He’s like Ghylspwr, only Imperial, and I thought maybe they’d be friends, but—”

“Go!”

“What?”

“Ululenia can’t do it without you!”

Tern looked at Ghylspwr. “Can you get me across even with me only having one useful arm, big guy?”


Besyn larveth’is,”
said Ghylspwr, which sounded less than entirely confident about the matter.

“He won’t have to,” Hessler said, and took Ghylspwr from Tern. “Come on.”

The rangy wizard wrapped one arm around Tern’s waist, swung Ghylspwr up over his head, and started running.

“I shall clear you a path!” Icy called.

“But you’re terrified of heights!” Tern shouted to Hessler as Icy threw one zombie into another zombie, giving them a brief open lane.

“Yes! Desperately!” he shouted back . . . and flung himself from the airship with Ghylspwr held high.

They crossed the gap together, the wizard and the alchemist, and arced smoothly through the hole in the hull that Ululenia had left open.

Desidora savored a brief smile. However she might feel about losing her old powers, she was a
very
good love priestess, and it was always good to see a match work out.

Then, from behind her, she heard a woman’s voice say, “You were the death priestess, were you not? I can see it in your aura.”

She turned to see Hunter Shenziencis coming forward, unhampered by the zombies around her. Pyvic and Kail were fighting for their lives across the deck, zombies flanking them both. She had lifted her visor, and her green make-up accentuated her smirk.

“A pity you have lost your powers,” she said.

“If she is a Hunter, then she is a golem as well,” Icy said, stepping between Desidora and Shenziencis, “which means that she has no soul, correct?” He had assumed a fighting stance.

Shenziencis smiled. “
Clear a path,”
she said, and Desidora felt the magic in the words even as Icy staggered to the side, a thousand tiny snarls of magic twining around him to bend him to the creature’s will.

It was his words. The words he had spoken in her hearing contained tiny bits of his own aura, and somehow, with her own magic, Shenziencis flung the words back at him to command him.

Desidora wondered what
she
had said in the last minute or so, even as Ghylspwr appeared in her hand with a flare of magic.

She lunged forward.


You are held in cruel bondage,”
Shenziencis said, and Desidora staggered and stopped, her joints wracked with agony that locked her in place. “And I imagine you will taste
delicious
.”

“Okay, I need to get to whatever powers the ticket pedestals,” Tern said, getting back to her feet. She was pale and staggering, and Ululenia touched her injured shoulder and sent a bit of healing her way. Ghylspwr, and to some extent Hessler, had sheltered her as best they could, but it was still more activity than was healthy for the girl.

“Oh, we made it.” Hessler was still on the ground. “Thank you, Ghylspwr. I could clearly feel when our trajectory began to head downward, and I greatly appreciate your efforts to bring us the rest of the way.”


Kun-kabynalti osu fuir’is,”
Ghylspwr said, and then flashed away, presumably back to where Desidora was fighting the undead.

“You’re the best boyfriend ever,” Tern said, swaying in place, “which is why I’m giving you a five-count to rest and recover. Then we go find the place that powers the pedestals. Ululenia, you get to the security center. When the power goes out, switch the . . . crap, what are these things, mushrooms? Switch the things we said to switch.”

Ululenia sensed Tern’s fear and pain and smiled, letting her horn shine brightly in the pale-green light of the room. “As the seasons pass, each blade of grass knows its place. Let us help my Little One aboard.”

“Right. Four, five, up and at ‘em, big guy.”

“I didn’t hear
three
,” Hessler said, getting back to his feet shakily, followed by, “What are you doing in my pockets?”

“Crystals,” Tern said. “Anything with crystals sets off the alarms, so . . .” She held up Hessler’s message crystal, smiled, and tossed it out through the hole in the hull.

“I feel I should have been informed about that before I heroically volunteered to leap across the void with you in my arms,” Hessler said.

“Remember: best boyfriend ever,” Tern repeated, and tossed Hessler’s attunable thaumaturgic capacitor out as well.

“The center that nourishes the pedestals is down the hallway.” Ululenia pointed. “Hunt well.”

Then, with a shimmer, she was a tiny white dove, flapping down the hallway in the other direction and up the stairs.

The treeship was completely unlike an airship. Ululenia had been on them before, and always came away in awe. Humans sought to master magic, with crystals and daemons bending to their will. The elves worked
with
magic instead, and the harmony touched her heart.

She felt the treeship’s living trunk, the energy of life that dwelt in the walls, even the luminescent organs that lit up the hallway, all of it the magic of life.

It was like being back in the forest. Ululenia had not realized how much she had missed that feeling.

Or perhaps, she admitted, she was only feeling sentimental because she had lain with a virgin earlier in the morning and broadened the young woman’s world a little.

She shimmered back into her human shape as she reached the security center. The elven guards lay unconscious in the corner where Desidora had left them, and the pool flickered in countless colors as it sent information from all over the ship.

She knew that Desidora could understand the energies here at an intellectual level. Ululenia, though, could feel them as a part of herself. She reached out, touched the console, and smiled. While she might not have been able to alter the system herself, any more than she could force a deer to grow an extra lung, she could certainly make the changes Tern asked.

She turned to close the door, and felt the other mind lunging at her even as she saw black wings framing shining stag’s antlers in the hallway.

The elven man frowned and looked down at the ticket.

“Is there a problem?” Loch asked, smiling and not looking up at the sound of battle above.

“The pedestal seems to be having some difficulty reading your ticket,” the elf said, frowning.

“That’s odd,” Loch said, and then gasped. “Oh, I may have spilled kahva on it this morning, but I thought I got it all off. Would that do it?”

The elf smiled, though it was a bit more guarded than it had been before. “Perhaps that is it. I will try it again.”

“Whatever you feel best,” Loch said, and started reading the rules for the
suf-gesuf
tournament.

“You are wiser than most,” Shenziencis said as Desidora sank to her knees, teeth clenched to hold back a scream. “Few have even heard of the Hunters, and fewer still would recognize their armor.”

“You . . . are no . . . Hunter,” Desidora gasped. She could feel the words sliding into Shenziencis as she said them, knew it was dangerous to give the creature more power to use against her, but as it was, she was already helpless.

Her own aura was locked down, shackled with her own words flung back at her. Had she been a death priestess . . .

Shenziencis laughed. “Look at you. So desperate to return to the darkness that you once hated?” She stepped forward. “No, priestess, I am no Hunter. When a Hunter dared come to my domain, those I shared words with tore him apart, and I took what was left for myself.” Her smile was cold and superior and not human in the slightest. “Its weapons have served me well against any of my cousins who dared get in my way.”

“You are a fairy creature,” Icy said, struggling to move forward.

“The Temple of Butterflies was not always home to the Empire’s monks, priestess.” She leaned over Desidora, and her jaw unhinged a great deal further than seemed possible as she said, “Every soul lost to the frigid waters of the Iceford was
mine
.”

Through the pain, Desidora had a flash of realization. “You.” She pushed the words out through gritted teeth. “Queen of the Cold River.”

Shenziencis paused, and her gold-shaded eyes narrowed even as her great gaping mouth hung open. Deep in the throat, Desidora saw a light shining in the same color as Ululenia’s horn. “You
have
learned a great deal,” she said, the words distorted by her impossible jaw.

Then she frowned. “And where did your hammer go?”

Ghylspwr blasted into her from behind, the ancient magic cracking her Hunter’s armor and sending her crashing to the ground.

Justicar Pyvic held the hammer in a two-handed grip and looked down at her.

“Say nothing,” Desidora gasped, even as the pain that locked her in place suddenly vanished. “She eats words!”

He raised an eyebrow, shut his mouth, and stepped forward to smash Ghylspwr into Shenziencis again.

The Hunter’s armor was cracked, straps hanging loose, and she hissed at Pyvic from the deck. “Will you strike me down as I lay helpless?”

For a moment, Desidora feared he would answer.

BOOK: The Prophecy Con (Rogues of the Republic)
13.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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