Godslayers

“I’m going after her,” I said, jumping out of bed.

“Lilith, be careful,” said Abby.

“I will,” I said, lifting a sword off the wall. I tested the edge. Decorative. Whatever—it was still a five-pound chunk of metal, you can still kill someone with that.

“Your priority is ensuring the girls’ safety,” said Abby. “I’m on my way to your location. Stall her if you need to.”

“Sure,” I lied. I was not going to stall her. I was going to fucking gut her.

I checked my pulser. I was still in the clothes I’d worn today, minus the shawl, so it was easily accessible on my hip. Easily visible, too, but if someone saw we could fix it later. Dead people, not so much.

That was all the preparation I was willing to do. I ran for the library.

The Vitares compound was a giant rectangle, three stories of rooms surrounding an open-air courtyard the size of my high school’s conference room. My room was on the right side of the compound and the library took up a large part of the back. There was an internal hallway that would take me to the spiral staircase at the corner. I dashed for it.

My bare feet slapped frantically on the lacquered concrete. I let the sword trail behind me—I’m sure Lirian would just love if I tripped and impaled myself—pumping with the other hand. Someone heard me barreling down the hall and peeked her head out. One of the workers, I recognized her.

“Trouble in the library!” I yelled at her before she could ask. “Get a doctor!”

I was around the corner before she could respond. Hopefully no one needed treatment, but better to have it available. Unless it was Lirian, in which case I was going to let her bleed out while the doctor watched.

I swung my momentum around on a railing post and took the stairs two at a time. Ghostlight-illuminated frescoes slid through my field of vision. I’d been meaning to spend a couple hours looking over everything, but there was always another priority. That was truer now than ever. Following the itching sensation that was the MDOs’ representation of Lirian, I hit the top of the stairwell and sprinted for the library doors. Closed. Let that not mean anything, please let that not mean anything—

I threw my shoulder against the door and came through swinging. I only hit air, but just in case I threw my weight against the door until it cracked against the wall. Entrance cleared with extreme prejudice.

The library was a large space, mostly full of couches and tables, with the shelving along the walls. Books were expensive on Theria, despite whatever printing process they used to make them, so there weren’t enough in here to merit the parallel shelves I’d always associated with libraries. Good thing, too, one of the two standalone shelves had been knocked over, books scattered all over the floor. I didn’t see the girls.

I started a comm scan. My comm warned me that I’d just been hit with pulser fire. My lips twisted into a snarl.

“Hey asshole!” I shouted. “You’ve got six seconds to tell me they’re alive! Five! Four!”

Pulser fire hit my comm shields again.

“That’s not going to work! Two! One!”

“Lilith, she’s probing you.”

“Time’s up!” I said, ignoring Abby. “Fine, we’re doing this the hard way.”

I closed the door behind me and drew the heavy deadbolt back to lock it. I avoided turning my back to the room. After a moment, the scan concluded, telling me there was one soul in the room besides me. So someone was alive. Maybe Kuril had gone to bed already, which meant Roel was fine. Right? Then I didn’t need to worry. I just had to think about killing… someone. My enemy. Who was standing north of my position, between me and the other exit to this room.

Shifting to a ready stance, I dashed sword-first straight at the north doors.

“Die, motherfucker!” I yelled.

The presence hesitated for just a moment, then moved hastily to the side. I ran straight past it, reaching the doors in moments. The presence realized its mistake too late, starting for my location as I wrenched the deadbolt closed. It slowed to a stop.

“There is no running from this,” I panted. “Your cloak won’t help you. If you dive out the window you’ll hurt yourself, and I will follow the trail of blood until I cut your fucking legs off. So how about you come out before I decide to rip your lungs out through your stomach.”

The presence stood still for a couple moments, evidently thinking. It slowly moved—toward the window?—no, to a chair, which it pushed in my direction. I scoffed. It moved casually toward a second chair. Taking its time. My grip tightened on the sword handle. They wanted to talk? The second they decloaked I was going to run them through. My muscles tensed in anticipation.

Roel materialized in the chair, open-eyed but unresponsive. She’d been pulsed. Lirian was standing behind her, holding a knife to her throat.

“Let’s talk,” she said. And smiled.

*

All I could do was stare in impotent fury. My comm was reading three souls now, so the girls were safe. For now. Lirian had shown that she was willing to use that knife on me, but unlike me, Roel wasn’t coming back if she got stabbed to death.

“Lilith, I need you to keep it together here,” Abby said. “Get them out alive. Anything else is recoverable.”

I breathed in, out. Okay. Abby was on her way. I could stall. And I knew how to open.

“Hands find their way,” I said.

Amusement rippled over Lirian’s face. “Don’t they ever. No, not today. That’s not a code-phrase, Ajarel. It’s a promise, and I’m fulfilling it tonight. I have, in my hands—see how that works?—something you care about. So now, finally, you will answer my questions.”

“You know I can say anything, right?” I said, turning slightly to hide my hand creeping for my pulser. “This is such a terrible way to get information.”

“This is to get your volatile posterior in the chair,” said Lirian with a huff. “Drop the weapon, please, I can move faster than you.”

I dropped my sword as insultingly as I could manage.

“We both know that’s not the weapon I was talking about,” said Lirian.

“That’s not a weapon,” I said. “That’s a party trick.”

Lirian indicated Roel without taking her eyes off me. “A truth of the eyes. Drop the party trick and sit down. It’s just us. No need for these games.”

I slowly unclipped my pulser. For a moment I calculated whether I could draw on her before she killed Roel. She saw, I know she did. She dropped the smile, just watched me, waiting to react. The calculations didn’t come out in my favor. I dropped the pulser.

“But I’m not sitting down,” I said.

“Now you’re making it a power struggle,” said Lirian. “Must we? I’m here for secrets, not lives. This is already distasteful.”

“You fucking stabbed me,” I said in disbelief.

“Did I?” asked Lirian. “The evidence of that has mysteriously vanished. Let’s start there.”

“I’m not fucking cooperating.”

“It takes hours for people to come back after whatever your party trick does to them,” said Lirian. “I’ve tried pain, of course, but perhaps I didn’t use enough. There’s another secret there. I’ll take it if you don’t trade me for another.”

“Trade,” I said slowly. “No. That’s not trade, that’s extortion. You want to trade? Give me one of yours.”

Lirian tilted her head forward, an Estheni gesture roughly meaning go on. “Your wounds.”

“Your mission,” I countered.

“I must have forgotten—which of us has the hostage, again?”

“Your mission, and I’ll let you walk out of here when we’re done.” Abby would be here before then, of course.

Lirian sighed. “If you cannot take this seriously, I will slit her throat and leave.” She punctuated the sentence with a sudden, vicious downward strike of the knife. I shouted and leapt for her, but she fixed me with an intent look and froze her strike before it met Roel’s leg.

“Sit down, Lady Ajarel. That hand-truth is plain: you care for her.”

I sat.

“Your wounds,” said Lirian.

We had a cover story prepared. “I’m descended from Kives. Why are you going after Cades’s competitors? He could win glory without it.”

“For a promotion,” said Lirian.

I nearly got out of the chair and strangled her right there. She shifted the knife against Roel’s throat.

“You had better be lying,” I said.

“That can be my next secret,” said Lirian. “What’s the provenance of your weapon? I see you acquired a replacement. Do all four of you have one?”

I was about to say something flippant, but she must have seen it on my face, because she indicated the knife again.

“Lilith, you cannot tell her,” said Abby. “I’m almost there. Just hold on for ten minutes.”

“They’re from my home,” I said. “They’re god-touched. That’s why they don’t work on us.”

Lirian examined my face. “Interesting. And of course you’re not from Salaphi, but both of us knew that.”

“Of course,” I said. “You’ve attacked the girls for this. Will you do that again?”

“You know I can say anything, right?” she said, mimicking my tone of voice. Well, kind of—the comm translation made it a little wonky.

“There’s no way you’ll be allowed in the city after this,” I said. “The Cult of Silence would be hunted to extinction if they crossed lines like this all the time. Tell me if I need to make that happen.”

Lirian smiled sadly. “I’m afraid if little Roel dies, the blame will fall on you.”

“What?!” I screeched.

“You ran in here brandishing a sword and screaming about trouble you had no way of knowing about,” said Lirian. “What do you think the city will conclude? Vitares has been all abuzz with tales of your emotional outbursts and the way you and Thala have been manipulating the poor girl.”

I opened my mouth and froze, looking at the knife. Roel could die here. She could die here and I would be blamed. Kuril would blame me. My breath started to quicken.

“How are you locating me, by the way?” asked Lirian. “I felt eyes on me from atop the bookshelf, but I couldn’t find them. Is it a ritual? Some form of sorcery?”

I couldn’t answer. I knew I was breathing too fast. Roel was still staring off into space. The knife was right there at her throat. If Lirian just pulled, it would bite into the skin, sending the blood gushing out, over her clutching fingers, flowing over her skin, into her intricately woken nightclothes as she choked—

For a moment I was back in Salaphi, watching Arguel die.

“Lady Ajarel!”

Had I been screaming? My throat felt a bit sore. My eyes were tearing up. Lirian was watching me, unamused, unsympathetic.

“So this is the hand-truth of you,” she said. It felt like a judge’s conviction. I glared up at her through the tears, the humiliation of showing vulnerability to an enemy.

“And is this you?” I choked. “A monster threatening a kid?”

“I am nothing,” Lirian said immediately, with the cadence of a habit. “Now, the eyes. Please cooperate, I still have the knife and so on.”

I waited as long as I could manage, wiping my face while pinging Abby for her status. “Also from home.”

“Almost there. Keep stalling her.”

Lirian leaned in. “And where is home?”

“Don’t I get a question?”

“By the goddesses, Ajarel, the knife.”

That was fine, just stall her more. I pretended to think about the question, taking a moment to compose myself. I sniffed.

“It’s big,” I said, slowly, seriously. “And really old. Kind of angry and unloving. And fat, so fat.”

Lirian tilted her head again, the “go on” gesture.

“It’s… your mom.” Something gave way in my chest and I started giggling.

She blinked once. “I see. Well. It’s been a trying night, I’m sure.”

I couldn’t help it. “That’s what your mom said!”

Lirian sighed, reaching around Roel with her free hand. “Observe.” She placed the blade against her palm, then sliced it open. I stiffened at the sight of the blood. “You see?”

“Fine, fine,” I said, trying to pull myself together.

Lirian nodded, then spit on the now-bloody blade. “You see?”

“I mean, yes, but what does—”

She drove the knife down into Roel’s leg. Roel started screaming. I jumped out of the chair but Lirian was already gone and I couldn’t go after her I had to save Roel—

Lirian was already gone. The south door was open, revealing a crowd of worried faces. Someone had actually gotten a doctor, thank god, I screamed at them to come help her she’s bleeding so bad—

“Ajarel, help,” Roel asked, her tear-stricken face screwing up.

“Lilith, status,” said the commander.

“It’s okay Roel, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I let her get away, please come help,” I babbled.

“I’m right here,” said the doctor. Hadalce again. “You, bring the boiling water! Child, you should step away.”

“Don’t go,” Roel pleaded. “It hurts.”

“I’m on my way, Lilith,” said the commander. “Lirian’s out of range. I’ll come support.”

“I won’t, I won’t, I’m so sorry,” I said, holding her hand. “I fucked up, I’m so sorry.”

Hadalce nudged me to the side. “Roel, child, look at me. You have to stay awake, okay?”

Roel screamed in reply.

Val’s voice cut in. “Lilith, this is urgent. Get Lirian’s blood. As much as you can.”

The tone of command cut through the panic and the stress and Roel’s screams and I scrabbled after it for something to hold on to. Blood. I could get blood. I shifted my grip on Roel’s hand—she gripped me desperately, her strength feeble now—and tore a strip off my wrap.

“I need to see the knife!” I half-shouted, half-cried. “Move!”

Shouting opened a space, and there was the knife, sticking out of Roel’s leg. I felt faint for a moment but held on.

“I’m sorry, this is going to hurt a bit,” I said, reaching for the knife.

“What are you doing?” demanded Hadalce. “You can’t pull that out!”

“I’m not!” I said. “I just need to—”

I wrapped the torn cloth around the blade near the hilt, where I was sure the blood was just Lirian’s. Roel screamed again as the process agitated the wound. Hadalce swore and yelled at me to get away from her.

“I’m done! I’m done!”

“Get out of here!” she shouted at me.

“Roel, it’ll be okay,” I said. “You’re going to be okay, just remember that.”

I suddenly found myself outside the circle of agitated people, Roel alternately begging me not to leave and asking for Kuril. I stood, completely drained, bloody rag clenched in one hand.

“I have the sample,” I said.

“Then we’ve won,” said Val.

It didn’t feel like a victory.