Necrosis (The Omens of Gaia Book 1) Page 19

  Keren cowered behind the farthest pillar, unable to see through the crowd. Akar…are you still there?

  Yes. This body is not mortally wounded, though it is unable to heal itself. My control over the life-force grows weaker – I was barely able to deflect her tail when she attacked you. The queen’s mind is within reach, but the pain makes it difficult to concentrate.

  Thank you. I thought – I thought I was done for. She’s so fast –

  That she is. Keren, what she did to this body cannot be reversed. You will have to kill me.

  Kill you? Why?!

  This living flesh negates my abilities. If this body is killed, it may revert to its undead state.

  Something seized Keren’s wrist. She whirled about, barely stifling a shriek. Akar was crouched in the shadows beside her. Its breathing was labored, blood coating its leather breastplate. The goddess must have broken several bones with that last attack…

  Quickly! The Necrow insisted. Its face was a mottled hue of not-quite life, the flush of blood beneath its skin fighting to overtake the final remnants of purple clay-stuff. The thing looked even more appalling than it usually did.

  Keren did not hesitate in drawing her dagger and plunging it beneath the Necrow’s breastplate. She shrieked as bright arterial blood spurted from the wound.

  Akar shuddered and collapsed without another sound. Its transmuted heart and lungs fell still. Oddly, its hand did not relax its grip on Keren’s wrist.

  Keren stared at it breathlessly for several seconds, before the creeping fear of having made a terrible mistake began to overcome her. Good God: what if Akar had been wrong?! That jerk had been their only chance of winning this fight! She was only here because it had wanted answers! How dare it chicken out on her now!!

  The Necrow twitched. Its transmuted flesh shriveled like paper in a fire, blackening and curling in upon itself until it regained its old undead tinge. It pulled the dagger from its chest, and the flesh rejoined and smoothed over like wet clay. Even the blood on its breastplate had faded to a muddy brown.

  Many thanks, Akar said. Keren couldn’t decide whether to be relieved or envious at its easy shrugging off of death, but the Necrow left her side before she could say another word.

  Meanwhile, the yokai queen continued to do battle with the rebels. Her tails lashed out like whips, and with every strike a warrior was thrown back, screaming. The wounded fought to recover as their fellows dashed forward, weapons bared, attempting to strike a crippling blow.

  Amaterasu laughed as she toyed with them. “Welcome you are, proud and spiteful creatures, to entertain me in my infinite boredom!” She raised a hand, and the few men yet undamaged gripped their daggers with shaking fingers. Crying out in dismay, they drew their weapons and plunged them into their own stomachs. Blood sprayed forth, and the droplets hung like poisonous jewels in the air, twinkling wetly. The men stared down at their mortal wounds in horror.

  Amaterasu screamed and writhed in ecstasy on her throne, stroking herself feverishly, basking in the fury and terror that surrounded her.

  “Why?!” Irumi screamed. “You loathsome beast! With all your power, why could you not just rule the fishes in the depths of the sea? Assume the form of the grotesque monster you truly are, and be content to consume your own sordid kind in the darkness of the waters! Why will you not leave us in peace?!”

  The Fox Queen paused in her revelry to answer: “Because no men swim at the bottom of the lake, fool. The yokai deign to walk upon the surface of the earth only because men also walk here! Why would a goddess reduce herself to pleasant exile when she could be here, waging war against the most reviled of our enemies?

  “Don’t look so surprised! The yokai of Iru Mori have abhorred mankind from the beginning. You think yourselves so pure, worshippers of a higher power, praying that the kami will come to save you in their righteousness! Fools! Hypocrites! The kami may answer your prayers, but they cannot save you! Why? You ask for their help, but you will not accept their price; it is too steep, you say! Even when men are given all that they desire, they squander it and bring themselves to ruin.”

  The goddess pointed to the ground beneath their feet. “Here is the Well of power my kind has guarded for centuries. What will you do, once you claim it? You will create more undead abominations that swarm across the earth like locusts, throwing the entire world out of balance. You call the yokai gluttonous and greedy, but we know; we know how to keep the balance! It is in our very nature! But it is not in yours. There is something broken in you, humans. That is why you need the wisdom of the yokai, to teach you how to live.”

  All around her the wounded men groaned, clutching their bellies, mortally wounded but unable to die. The goddess held their flesh immobile while she savored their despair.

  “That is enough!” Irumi cried, stepping forward once more with his weapon drawn. “All here know it was the yokai who forced our people to live in darkness and fear. You feed upon us like parasites and give nothing in return! You call us broken only because you do not understand what dwells in the very hearts you feast upon!”

  Akar casually slid beside him and laid a finger on the arrow. “I transfer my curse to this weapon, to inflict whatever it touches,” it murmured. “Do not fear to fire now, hunter, for the bolt will strike true.”

  Amaterasu barked with scorn. Pointed ears sprang from her brow, and her hair came loose from its headdress, flowing long and white like a mane. She knelt on all fours, and seven massive tails flared behind her, twitching restlessly in the fairy-light. Her robes parted and fell away as her body put forth silky white fur. She screamed, a hoarse call somewhere between elk and eagle rising from her throat.

  The white fox pawed at the dais, its icy blue eyes transfixed on the archer. “Do your worst, mortal! Even should this body be destroyed, my spirit will merely return to the earth. A thousand years more, and you and all your progeny will be dead and gone – dust motes whirling in the darkness. My tails shall grow again, and I will rule in glory over the ruins of your once-proud race!” The vixen howled, its shrill voice echoing through the chamber and chilling the hearts of all who stood there.

  The archer loosed his arrow, and the shaft struck the white fox square in the chest. Its howl was cut short and the vixen looked down at the bolt in surprise. A dark stain was spreading across its pure white coat. Angrily it took the shaft in its teeth and pulled, but the arrow would not come free.

  There was a rippling in the nebula of power that hung within the chamber; a hush of breath before the storm. Then a bolt of lightning smote the yokai where she stood. With a scream of rage, the creature shattered into a thousand motes of glass.

  Amaterasu’s mask, however, still lay upon the dais amidst the gleaming shards. Quietly it sank beneath the floor and disappeared from sight. Several of the rebels cried out and pushed forward in a vain attempt to reach it, but they were too late.

  Then they saw where the mask had fallen, and were entranced. The floor had transfigured to glass, and beneath their very feet a golden maelstrom whirled. It was more beautiful than anything Keren had ever seen, more glorious than words could describe. The lifeblood of the world seethed and churned beneath their outstretched hands.

  Eternal life. There was that pesky Necrow again, always butting into her thoughts. Isn’t that what you see? Akar asked.

  Infinite power, Keren breathed. Eternal life… yes, that’s what I see. It’s intoxicating. How can you stand to look at it all the time?

  Stand to look at it? It is nothing to me, nothing in comparison with what the Necrow see with open eyes.

  Keren shook her head, unbelieving. The Necrow really was a fool. There was so much beauty, so much –

  A bell chimed in the still air. Keren tore her eyes away from the floor with regret, her heart compelling her to look for the source of the sound. She remembered, now – it was not the arrow, nor the Necrow’s curse, that had slain the Fox Queen.

  It was the lightning. Oh, horror of horrors, that she
should look upon that creature again!

  Around her the men roused as if from slumber. They looked up blearily, summoned by the sound of the bell. Only Irumi’s gaze remained transfixed upon the ground.

  They looked, and saw a creature stepping towards them from the entrance of the hall. It walked past Keren without a glance, and this time she could see it clearly. It was deer-like, but had the mane of a horse which floated in a breeze all its own. Its feet were like a goat’s, and behind it lashed the tail of a lion. Its fur glowed like moonlight on snow. Not only fur did it have, but also scales like a fish; silver armor adorning its haunches. From its brow reared a single antler, flickering with shards of energy.

  Somehow, Keren knew now which kami this was.

  From behind her a chorus of voices whispered: “It is the Kirin!”

  The messenger of the gods. The Harbinger of Kings. Keren’s heart ached at the sight of it. She stepped out of the shadows, and followed as if in a dream.

  At Irumi’s side, Akar froze. The Necrow’s back was turned to it, yet as the kami approached the Necrow curled over, clutching its chest as if in agony. Its body trembled violently, but made no sound as the Kirin stepped lightly past.

  The men who were dying on their own swords looked up, their eyes wide with tortured hope. The Kirin chimed its sweet song, its breath billowing in the air, and as the men pulled their daggers free their flesh closed and was made new.

  Cries of celebration filled the hall. Heaven was on their side this day! The despotic queen had been banished to whatever hell-hole from whence she’d come, and the loyal soldiers of mankind had been saved. Not one warrior had been lost in the final battle.

  Keren had rarely seen grown men weep. And yet, at this time it did not seem uncalled for. They wept for joy, and for awe and adoration of the Kirin, the lord of beasts that stood among them.

  The creature did not linger long. Quietly it stepped to Amaterasu’s throne and touched its antler to the tree. The carving melted beneath its touch like quicksilver, pooling on the floor and flowing down the steps of the dais. Where it flowed, the floor of glass vanished completely, and the molten metal poured into the maelstrom beneath. The golden waters were petrified, congealing into inert gray stone.

  Only then did Irumi regain his senses. Beneath his feet the well of power slowly stilled and died, like a pond frozen over in winter. He looked up and saw the Kirin standing on the dais where the silver throne had been. There was a delirium in his eyes.

  “What are you doing?! That throne is ours; we won it with our own blood and suffering!”

  Coolly the Kirin regarded him, its liquid eyes the same color and depth as the grayish pit of rock beneath them. The creature said nothing. Only its lion-tail flicked idly from side to side. Keren couldn’t help but think it was admonishing the young warrior.

  The rebels looked from the Kirin to Irumi in confusion, doubt flickering across their features.

  Irumi rose to his feet, trembling in anger. He held forth his bow in accusation. “Can’t you see? That beast is not holy, it is but an envoy of those who would abuse and destroy us! You saw for yourselves what a fiend we worshipped as a goddess! Now this creature comes to finish her handiwork. You saw her spirit escape into the underworld, and you know that somewhere she still lives. The kami wishes to preserve her power from the ‘corruption’ of men, until she comes again to rule us!”

  There was a stir of talk among the warriors, disbelief and anger flashing from mouth to mouth. At Irumi’s side the Necrow still crouched, either unable or unwilling to move. Keren tried to reach out to Akar with her mind, but for the first time its thoughts were shut fast against her. Bewildered, she looked around at the unease rippling through the ranks.

  Keren’s heart cried out against the loss of the Well – so much power wasted, sealed away out of contempt for the needs of mankind – it was so unfair! Yet her heart also ached for the Kirin, that splendored beast that watched them with such sad eyes, saying nothing. She remembered what Amaterasu had said: that they prayed for the kami to save them, but refused to pay its price. Had the fox known this would happen?

  “Don’t be silly!” Keren cried. “The Kirin came to save you, just like you asked! How can you accuse it of being your enemy?”

  One of the rebels thrust his sword at her, the unspoken threat clear in his eyes. “You have no say over what happens here, foreigner. Leave now, or hold your peace.”

  Keren balked. As desperate as she was to stand up for the kami, she was far more afraid of what these men might do. Coward, she thought, tears brimming in her eyes. Weakling… But then again, she knew no more about this beast than the rebels did. She had once despised it as they did for cursing her heart with its affliction of despair. The same emotions gripped the hearts of the men before her: anguish, longing, desire, betrayal. Who was she to speak in its defense?

  “The gods have betrayed us!” Irumi cried. “We choose our own future now!” He nocked an arrow to his bow, aiming at the Kirin’s pale breast. “We need no corrupt stewards of the gods to anoint our king! I crown myself, with my own authority! What say you, Kirin?”

  Thunder rolled through the hall, and the rebels staggered back. The kami reared up, lashing the air with its hooves. It fur sparked and flashed with electrical discharge. The air was pregnant with rippling power that made one’s hair stand on end and filled one’s chest with a heavy pressure. Everyone but the archer fell to their knees, unable to breathe.

  Irumi stood strong against the tempest, back straight, arms rigid. His aim did not waver. “My will shall overcome yours! My dreams and desires are unyielding. I am the master of my own future, my own fate; there is no place for you here!”

  The archer let his arrow fly. The shaft sang straight and true, but where the Kirin had once been, there was only air. The iron tip thudded into the wall where the silver throne had stood. The kami had already leapt into the air, its sprightly legs sending it soaring over the heads of the astonished men. It landed on the marble tiles behind Keren without a sound, and dashed from the hall in a flash of light.

  Several of the warriors chased after it, bawling with battle lust, but it was like chasing a thistledown caught in the wind, eternally out of reach. The rest of them could only stare after it in amazement, the afterimage of the beast’s resplendent coat and scales burned into their eyes.

  As if in a daze, all remaining in the hall turned their eyes to Irumi.

  The young warrior panted as if from a great exertion, skin flushed, dark hair tumbled around his feverish eyes. He stared at the spot where his arrow had struck, marking the place where the throne had stood. The tiles of the floor had misted over till they seemed as only marble once more, with no trace of the now-dormant pool of power lying beneath.

  “Does any man dispute my claim to the throne of Iru Mori?” Irumi cried.

  One of the men spoke up: “Nay, Lord Irumi. It was you who first led the charge against the corruption that held our people in thrall. It was you who struck the killing blow against the savage Fox Queen. I now speak for my village: we will acknowledge you as King.”

  Each of the others spoke up one by one. “Aye, my village acknowledges you.” “Mine, as well!”

  “Long live the King of Iru Mori, God-Slayer and Savior of the People!”

  Irumi sheathed his bow and mounted the dais. “Ozora no Kyuden shall be our new capital, and the Court of Seven Virtues will henceforth be known as the Court of Mankind. The hanshi of every village shall come to pay homage to me; any who persist in worshipping the yokai are welcome to banishment. The paths and trails through the mountains will be made safe to all who wish to travel here. Woe to any yokai that hinders us or tries to avenge their mistress!”

  The men raised their voices in triumph, their words echoing through the vast hall. The marsh-sprites trembled within the bars of their cages. “Woe to any yokai that thirsts after the hearts of men! We know the secrets of their immortality! No longer will foul spirits roam our forests. No longer
will they escape retribution for their crimes!”

  “And woe to any messenger from Heaven that opposes us!” Irumi cried.

  Akar sat still and silent through all of this. Finally it’s shaking calmed, and it stirred from where it knelt upon the floor. “The messenger was right to oppose you. No man should have power over life and death.”

  Irumi turned his burning eyes to Akar. “No beast has the right to interfere in the affairs of men!”

  “No right? What is right, and what is wrong? It was the Kirin that saved you from death and despair. Now you say it had no right to interfere? What madness has come over you?”

  Rarely had Keren heard the Necrow come so close to anger. Its eyes were open and staring blindly at Irumi, pain etched across its face. The warrior-king flinched at the undead creature’s ghastly visage. “I know not what curse plagues you, outsider. Perhaps it has addled your wits –”

  “This is the madness of men!” Akar spat. “The very sight of power, especially power which you can never have, robs you of your sanity!”

  Irumi snarled at the Necrow; in one swift motion he unsheathed his bow and aimed an arrow at the specter’s chest.

  With a cry, several of the rebels leapt in front of Akar, shielding him. “Enough, Irumi! This man helped us. Without him we could never have breached the palace’s defenses. Let him go in peace!”

  Irumi’s breath came harsh and quick. He narrowed his eyes at the Necrow, as if thinking of shooting his own men to get to it.

  Finally the archer eased the bowstring back. “Let him leave, then, so long as he swears never to return. I have no patience for those who place their sympathy with the gods.”

  The Necrow shrugged past the warriors without another word. It took the unfinished bow-staff from its back and flung it to the ground. The marble tiles pealed dully as it strode away, cloak billowing.

  Keren followed quietly, darting one final look back. Several of the warriors stared after them with unconcealed regret. The jeweled eyes of the beasts on the pillars were dull and lifeless.