Queen Yavara Ch. 55

For a moment, the room was clear. More than a dozen men lay dead or screaming on the floor. Blood had leaked out to fill the spaces between them, pooling and crusting into the dusty cracks and grains of the boards. Mom was still behind the counter, blinking bewilderedly. The entire fight had lasted seven seconds. From her perspective, it likely looked as though the men were being felled like trees by a blur of darkness. It took her a moment for her eyes to find me.

"Oh, there you are," she said, in the same tone she might've if she'd momentarily lost me at the marketplace.

"Here I am."

She clutched her butcher's knife, and examined a wounded man holding what was left of his guts in. "That seemed rather rude of you."

"I guess I should apologize."

"Is he going to be OK?"

"Are you serious right now?"

"I just want to know if I should... you know..." she made a stabbing motion, "...send him on his way."

"He'll get there on his own." I muttered, wiping my cleavers clean on my gown, "And it'll be too soon."

"Good god, Elena." Mom gasped, giving me an expression of maternal concern, "You and I are going to need counseling after this."

I laughed. "You think so?! I thought our relationship was quite normal and healthy."

Her lips quirked impishly. "I guess you're right. Our poor therapist would need therapy after one session with us."

I sighed, and eyed the watchmen marshaling at the door's entrance. "We'll have to fight our way out, or they'll just block the doors and set the place on fire."

"How many of them are out there?"

"By now? Probably all of them."

"We're going to die here, aren't we?" She asked quietly.

I gave her a solemn smile.

"Was it true then, what you said to Catherine?"

"It might be," I said, and readied my cleavers, "like I told her, Mom; I don't remember it."

"You lied to her."

"I guess you'll have to find out for yourself."

"Elena!" She yelled. I whirled my head at her. She blushed a little, then said with a little voice, "I love you."

"I love you too, Mom."

She raised the butcher's knife she had clutched it both hands, the blade quivering terribly. "Shall we go kill some fine young gentlemen then?" She asked.

I held out my hand. "We shall." She took it, and I kissed her deeply. As our lips and tongues moved in contest, the waning echo of bells could be heard tolling from all over the lower wards.

ADRIANNA

I could hear the chaos from the other side of the wall. I could hear the roar of wargs, the laughter of orcs, and the screams, oh god, the screams! Shrieks so shrill I could hear the agony in them, the blood gurgling in the throats, the change in octave that sounded when the belly was opened. The panic, the agony, and the horror—that realization that comes when the mortal wound has been dealt—all creating such an awful harmony. It seemed like it took me forever to fish into my sack, and grab the grappling hook. Every second was filled with those hellish wails. The men bellowed, the women shrieked, and the children squealed. God, they sounded like pigs! I cocked back my elbow, and whirled the hook over my head, trying to block out the noise. I tied Dog Meat to the saddle, tossed the hook into the gate's grating, and hauled myself bodily from the horse. Scaling the gate took an eternity, and it was only half the distance to the top of the wall. When I got to the grating, I had to hold myself against the bars with one hand, and toss the hook up with my other. I missed. The hook finished its arc five feet short of the wall's top, and came plummeting back toward me. I flattened myself against the wall to avoid it, and caught the rope as it passed me by. All the while, the screams sounded. Collecting the rope in my one free hand, I whirled the hook again, and launched it. This time, my aim and strength were truer, and I felt the reassuring tension in the line when I gave it a hard tug. Trusting to the hook's hold on the battlements above, I put my full weight on the rope, and began to climb once more.

I topped the wall after an exhausting and terrifying ascent, and raced toward the pulley. I kicked the lever, and the great weights fell from their constraints, turning the gears that ticked open the gate below. The wrought-iron gate opened, and the rebels poured in, roaring a myriad of war-cries over the thunder of hooves. But there was no enemy to face. The wargs had leapt from the rooftops, and scaled the second wall. Even now, I could hear the familiar discordant cacophony in the next ward. But I could see it in this one. Doors hung from hinges, windows were smashed in, houses and apartments were ablaze. Pieces of people lay in pools of blood, squirming and writhing with what life was left in them. The dead and wounded littered the street, leaving no cobblestone unbloodied.

"Adrianna!" Esmerelda screamed from below, "We need to open the second gate!"

The second wall was half as tall as the first, but it might as well have been a thousand feet high. By the time I descended the first wall, raced across the ward, and ascended the second, the wargs would already be in the ward above. As my thoughts processed, the screams cut through the air, accompanying the horrific roars and snarls of the feasting wolves.

"ADRIANNA!" Esmerelda screamed.

"Sasha!" Dog Meat cried from my horse, "Call for Sasha!" Dog Meat wiggled her stumps frantically, and howled like a wolf, then yelled, "Call for Sasha, Adri!"

Not knowing what else to do, I let out a long and mournful howl. It sounded nearly as ridiculous as it felt, but when I stopped, I was answered with a howl from the next ward. A minute later, Sasha lumbered over the wall, raced past the stunned elves below, and scaled the first wall in five great vertical leaps. She was panting when she got up to me, and her breath stank of death. Bits of fresh meat and torn clothing hung in her razor-sharp teeth, and blood covered her muzzle. I knotted my fist into her fur, and threw myself across her back. I kicked my feet into her haunches, and she leapt off the top of the wall, and landed on a building twenty feet below. I didn't even have time to scream before she'd already jumped another thirty vertical feet, her great paws softening her landing, her great muscles decelerating into a crouch. When I got to street-level, I passed the elven rebels in a blur, but not fast enough to see the looks of utter hatred they gave me. The women I'd trained, the women I'd lain with, and the officers I'd groomed, all stared at me with the same dagger-sharp gaze of betrayal, but Esmerelda's look was one of pure guilt.

LEVERIA

I looked at the sleeping beauty Zander had laid on my bed, and sighed. God, Brianna was hot. On her worst day, she was way hotter than me on my best day. Even snoring loudly with a small dribble of snot coming out of her nose, she was hotter than me.

"Well, wake her up." I said.

"What?" Zander asked.

"I'm a great liar, Zander, not a great actor. If I'm to impersonate this woman, I'll need to meet her first. So far, my only interaction with her was when she pissed on my face."

"That was fun to watch." Certiok sneered.

I ignored her, and looked at Zander. "Wake her up."

"We don't have much time."

"I only need to ask her a few questions, then you can knock her out again."

Zander nodded, and touched Brianna's temple. Her eyes fluttered open; blue irises rimmed with bloodshot red. She was high as a kite. Her dilated pupils focused on me, and she giggled.

"Oh shit," she croaked, "it's the Dark Queen!"

I smiled at her. "You're the funny one, aren't you?"

"The funny one?" She snorted, "Aw man, no one wants to be the funny one! Why can't I be the mysterious one, or at least the damaged one?"

I noted her affectations, and the way her lips curled when she smiled, and mimicked them to the best of my abilities. She watched me bemusedly. "Are you making fun of me?"

"Is that what you think I'm doing?"

"I have no idea what the hell you're doing." Brianna giggled, "Bro, I don't know what the fuck's going on right now!"

"Are you frightened?"

"I'm freaking out a little bit."

I pulled out the knife she'd had in her belt, and rested it against her throat. "Can you please show me fear?" I asked.

Her eyes flashed dangerously. "Yes," she said. In less time than it took for me to blink, she'd snatched my wrist, twisted the knife toward me, and rammed it into my neck. The blade shattered against Zander's arcane shield, and Brianna's hand recoiled. Titus was on her in a flash, snatching her arms and holding them over her head while Certiok scrambled to secure her ankles.

"You too, bro?" Brianna giggled up at Titus, "This shit must be serious if he got you roped into it. And Certiok?! Holy shit, girl, what the fuck?"

"Hold still, Brianna!" Certiok growled, then darted her eyes at me, "Why did you do that?!"

"To see her reaction to danger." I said, watching Brianna carefully, "If Yavara questions my identity, I'll need to know how Brianna would react to it."

"You'd think a transgendered racially-altered combat veteran might have enough identity issues as it is." Brianna chortled.

"That's a fantastic response, thank you, Brianna."

"You're welcome," she tittered, then grinned wickedly at me, "And to top it all off, I even have an evil alter-ego."

Her red-rimmed eyes became completely red, and her bronze flesh turned suddenly pale. In an instant, she was two feet taller, laced with muscle, and rippling with power. She kicked Certiok clear across the room with just a twitch of her leg, and nearly tossed Titus through the ceiling before he got ahold of her. Though he was the more experienced vampire, she was the more experienced soldier, and she grappled with him until she was wrapped around his back with his neck in the vice of her elbow. She might've torn his head clean off had Zander not put a spell on her. She collapsed onto the bed, still giggling manically, and she changed back into her elf form with a merry sigh.

"Fuck!" Certiok cried, clutching her side, "Brianna, you fucking bitch, you broke my fucking ribs!"

"Oh, so you are real!" Brianna tittered, "I just assumed all of you were either Zander's projections, or Kiera laced that joint with LSD."

"Goddamn it!" Titus yelled, rubbing his neck, "You fucking ungrateful bitch, using my gift against me!"

"That's what you get when you cross a gangsta, motha fuckaaaaaah!" Brianna howled.

"Calm yourself, Brianna." I said, putting my hand on her shoulder.

She glanced at my trembling hand, then back up at me. "I'm perfectly calm, but you look like you need some medication. I got the good stuff in my right pocket."

"That's very kind of you." I said, and slid my hands together to mask how terribly they were shaking. "Now, I'd like you to tell me about Kiera."

Brianna's jovial attitude faltered slightly. "What about her?"

"You obviously love her. You carry her child. Why don't you tell me what your relationship is like?"

Brianna slid her eyes across the room, then back to me. "Why don't you tell me about Elena?"

"What?"

"Us girls talk, you know. Furia told me that you and Elena were more than just fuck-buddies." Her red-rimmed irises studied me carefully, "She told me other interesting things too."

"Like what?"

"Like that you told her Yavara had gone batshit crazy, and was going to fake an attack on the horde as an excuse to burn Bentius." Brianna said, then looked from me, to Zander. "Did you hear about that?"

Zander nodded.

"And you believe it?"

"I do." He lied coolly.

Brianna turned to Certiok. "And you?"

"I'm not sure." She lied noncommittally.

"And you, Mister Fat-fang?"

"It's quite possible." Titus lied rationally.

"What do you believe, Brianna?" I asked.

Brianna contemplated me without emoting anything. "Hmm... that is an interesting question. You see, I know firsthand that Yavara is one-hundred-percent batshit fucking crazy. I don't know if she's bipolar, or if she has severe attachment issues, or if she's just a megalomaniacal nymphomaniac, but something isn't going right upstairs. Then again, you're not exactly a trustworthy source either, are you?" She looked from Certiok, to Titus, to Zander, then back to me, "But for some reason, these three geniuses bought your bullshit, so maybe I'd like a sample."

"What does that mean?"

"Feed me your bullshit, Leveria."

"If I win, you might live. If I lose, you'll all die."

She smirked. "It's that simple?"

"It's that simple."

"And what's your grand plan once you take Yavara's mantle—if you can, that is?"

"I'm not telling you."

She looked at the other occupants in the room. "Have you told anyone?"

"No," they said in unison.

Brianna looked back to me. "So I'm just supposed to trust you against two armies and a psychotic god-queen?"

"That's right."

Brianna elevated her hand, formed a fist, and extended her pinky out. "Pinky swear on that shit, bro." She whispered.

I linked pinkies with her. "I hereby pinky swear on it."

"Right on." Brianna nodded solemnly, "So, do you got enough material to be me for an afternoon?"

"I think I totally do, bro."

She smiled, transformed into a vampire, then transformed back. "Kiera's my blood-mother. She was waiting outside the cellblock to kill you, but now she's been updated with the newest info. She'll be your chaperone while you're me."

"I don't need a chaperone."

"But you've got one." Brianna smiled in such a way as to broach no argument, then looked to Zander and Titus. "You two better get out there before Yavara wonders where you went." Brianna snuggled into my bed, reached into her robes, and pulled out a perfectly-rolled marijuana cigarette, "I'll just chill here while you're out being me, Leveria. Guess I'm no one now." She giggled at the thought, and put the spliff between her teeth. "Far-fucking-out, man."

YAVARA

The ship evaporated the moment I got to it. In its wake, there was only the sea. The great blue expanse stretched to the horizon, opening from the mouth of the bay like a vase to pour over the world. Its surface was glassy and calm, remarkably so, painting a mirror for the blue sky. Nobody knew what existed on the other end of the Eastern Sea. The summer isles crested Tenvalia just twenty miles off, but beyond them, nobody knew. Was there another continent? Balamora resided a thousand miles off Tenvalia's western coast; perhaps two-thousand miles off the western coast, there was an even larger continent. What mysteries would lie there? What wonders? What people? If I went there, no one would know my name. No one would know what I'd been, or what I'd done.

I looked down at my reflection. "What tethers hold me here?" I asked myself.

I reached down, and dipped my toe in the water. A ripple passed over my face, and I remembered that day I walked along the banks of the Knife River on route to Castle Thorum. I had filled my canteen in the stream, and a ripple had passed over my eyes, turning them from blue to orange. I thought it was a trick of the light at the time, and perhaps it was, but now as the ripples passed over my face, I saw my eyes transition from orange to blue, then to orange again, and I felt a terrible pang of nostalgia. I had been but a girl then, and my entire life seemed to be in front of me, vast and unknowable, frightening, but filled with hope. It wasn't even a year since then, but everything seemed to have changed. I had accomplished so much, and in so doing, I had burned through a lifetime's worth of future in just months. I was tired. I was nineteen years past my birth, and I felt old. I looked out to the eastern horizon, and felt a smile crease my lips. I could be young out there. I could be wild and free, unconstrained by guilt and regret, lighthearted and brilliant like the sun that rose above that horizon.

I looked back at the castle built in my honor, at the city that had been made just for me, and all I saw was a prison. How strange it was, that just a bit of distance and perspective could make me a different person. Out here, it was all so clear, but in there, everything was shrouded in a fog. When had I become so callous? When had I become so vengeful? Where exactly had I strayed from myself, and become a creature determined by everyone else?

"When did I stop being me?" I whispered. Elena made me love. Leveria made me hate. Brock made me feel empowered. Zander made me feel naïve. Prestira made me feel daring. Adrianna made me feel forgiving. Patricia made me feel maternal. What did I make me feel? Where was Yavara?

"What did you take from me, Alkandi?" I asked to the void. I looked down at my reflection again, and saw only the bronze woman with orange eyes. She was a stranger. I looked out at the city once more, and let out a long, slow breath. I was no one. I searched for myself in others, and found no kinship or sameness at all. Only someone I would want to be, or something I would want to feel. A beast of sensation, a whore of emotion. I floated back to my destiny with my shoulders drooped, wishing I had it in me to just go the other way. But deep down, I knew that I wouldn't find what I sought on the other side of the sea.

ELENA

I shot through the door, ducked a spear thrust, and cleaved through a man's shin, pitching him forward with his foot still planted firmly in the snow. I rose up in an arc, split another man's chin through his cleft, then spun around him with my blade arcing wide, and slashed a man's throat all the way to his spine. I plastered myself to my victim to avoid a sword thrust, and the man's weapon pierced his comrade's side, sending a shrill scream from his lips. As that man tried to pull his weapon free from his friend, I chopped his arm off just below the elbow, keeping the weapon stationary, the hand still gripping the hilt. I squirmed out of a chokehold just in time, sent my heel into the assailant's balls, and dove forward with the blow, letting the man who was about to put a spear in my guts put it through the eye of the doubled-over wrestler behind me. I traveled along the spear's haft to its bearer. His eyes barely had time to register me before I'd cloven his face, then I spun around him with my meat-cleavers held out like fan blades, and I slashed open a pair of leather-armored bellies to let all the pink goo flop out.

Mom stayed three paces behind me, cleaning up the mess I made with two-handed jabs to the throat. She was remarkably calm in the frenzy, and oddly polite about the whole ordeal. Clutching her long butcher's knife with both hands, she bent over at the hips, and carefully lined up her shot before dealing the executioner's blow. I thought I even heard her say, 'sorry' a few times.

I ducked a saber swing, whirled around the man, sliced above his hip, then came around to deal the death blow to the back of his head. As he pitched forward, the next man before me swung overhand with an axe, forcing me to sidestep. My cleaver met his neck, and our combined momentum sent his head toppling from his shoulders. Moving around him, I blocked an upward strike between my crossed blades, crouched before a decapitating swipe, then swung my body on the axis of my cleavers, slid through the man's legs, and brought my cleavers around to separate both his knees. I came up on my skidding heels, cleaved a man's face, dodged a spear thrust, hopped on the half-faced man's shoulders, and sprung onto the unwary man behind him. I caught him in an embrace, locked my blades around his head, and with the corners of my knives, I scored the entire circumference of his neck. His comrade thrusted a sword at me, and I swung to the side, letting the man take the blade in his chest so that I could whirl around his back, and avenge him. My cleavers separated the assailant's shoulders, and I used his body to knock back the man behind him, leap over them both, and spin into a mass of watchmen.