101. Might

Take no life, came that dulcet tone I had heard earlier on the bluff.

If you can, take none.

Sister Sea, I said in my spirit, not speaking aloud without use of a mouth.

We are allied, she and I, said my goddess.

We are allies in the defense of Tintar.

As are the brother and the father.

But it is we, the two goddesses, who bear the weight of shielding our children.

We are with you and these drakes are your sentinels.

You have some life left to command them as the demigods of Tintar.

Your right hand is still fisted back on the bluff.

She is strong as you have said, said Sister Sea to Mother Earth.

She is my daughter, said my goddess.

And then my mind and spirit truly split into five states, one a drake, one a wildcat, one a lizard, one a fox and one a mother bear.

As the drake, I opened my maw, flashing the jagged, uneven chunks of my dragon’s teeth, the yawn of it expanding over them in threat of an imminent devouring.

As the wildcat, I batted, with an indolent but adroit paw, one warship against another, repeating this until they were all turned around on the water.

As the lizard, I flicked my long serpent of a tail over the ships, whipping up a host of hurricanes that twirled and whined above the ships.

As the fox, I dipped my snout in between each ship and snapped my stubby dog teeth next to them as if to bite their hulls.

And as the mother bear I stood over the other four drake creatures made of quaking rock, and let out a roar erupting from inside my gargantuan drake body that obliterated all other sounds along the whole coast of the continent.

It was the roar of the mother when a child is in danger.

And in these five guardians, I saw my family.

In the nimble wildcat, I saw Quinn’s quiet intelligence and Catrin’s elegance.

In the rabid lizard, I saw all of Mischa’s unexplained anger at the world, her determination to remain independent.

In the fox, I saw River’s ever inquisitive mind and Maureen’s youthful wonder at the life before her.

In the bear, I saw my Helena, a bastion of maternal strength, her hand resting on her pregnant belly as I last looked upon her in my life.

In the drake, I saw myself, angry and unloved once upon a time and now, surrounded by the love of these six in the conjured-up bodies of the four other drakes.

Their love poured into me and I thanked my goddess and her sister and even the air and fire gods for this strength, for this magic I could use to protect Tintar from falling to the gold and greed of Perpatane.

I stormed and smashed and squalled around the ships, never truly making contact with them, only creating a frenzy of wind above them and water under them, waves slapping up on the decks, Perpatanian soldiers flinging themselves against masts for purchase, crying out prayers to Rodwin.

At this I, as the drake rock, laughed.

It sounded like thunder from another world.

And the four other versions of myself began to laugh, the bear’s holler drowning out the hiss of the lizard, the purr of the wildcat and the chirrup of the fox.

All five of me emitted a battlecry of bitterness and indignation.

Pray to Rodwin? He had never answered.

The fools.

A part of my spirit flitted back to the bluff, to look over my body.

Alric knelt over me, saying something, tightening the belt around my bloodied wrist.

On the other side of me, Thrush knelt, hand on my right arm, saying something to my face over Alric’s prayers.

I thought I heard Alric saying, “I claim her.

I claim her life.”

Realizing he was not alone in his vigil over me, Alric looked across me at Thrush, naked wrath on those sharp features.

He leaned over my body, pulled the dagger from Thrush’s scabbard and blindly stabbed my former husband in the shoulder, shouting something I could not make out, pushing him away from my body.

It was too far from any vulnerable area to have killed him, but Thrush fell back, hands on the wound, yelling.

Thatcher sped towards my body, Perch close behind him, and grabbed one of Thrush’s arms, telling Perch to grab the other.

As if through a cloth that was muffling my ears, I heard Thatcher say, “we are going to watch your body break on the rocks on the way down.”

And the two sergeants dragged my first husband, kicking, reaching out to scattered boulders to cling to, towards the edge of the bluff and the two men, both with a strength that only comes from a life of hard work, hurled him over it into the jagged rock and sea below.

The rest of my spirit called me back to the five drakes thrashing in the sea, but I stayed to watch, wanting to look at as much of Alric as I could.

Thalia approached my body, speaking to Alric, leaving the group at the wall, Cian still holding steady in a now smaller, protective wall between him and his fellow Tintarian leaders.

Thalia bent down next to Alric, pointing at my neck.

“I cannot be sure, captain, but I believe that to be Gareth Pope’s hagstone.

I think it is most of the power Cian sensed when he first touched Edie.”

Alric looked at her if she had spoken a foreign language.

I watched her stutter through a hurried explanation of Gareth Pope’s last actions.

Back out in the sea, I, as the drakes, was pushing the ships back towards Ruskar, all five of me, the bear and cat using paws, the drake, fox and lizard using snouts.

And the shred of spirit that hovered over my body knew I had now spent too much life on magic.

The drakes would soon assemble as their original formations, Tintar’s pillars of power.

Alric, tearing his eyes away from Thalia, looked down at my body for a beat and then placed both hands inside the chain around my neck.

He ripped the hagstone off of my neck in a terrible wrench.

And everything went dark.