90. Kami

90

Kami

T hough Caethybdue has taken over my body and mind, part of me remains with her. While the other part meanders to Malkar to help him clean up the Nyte Guard.

Which don't belong in this realm.

The Guard should have moved on to the Next ages ago, but dark magic and an unnatural need kept them here. Goras Vamyar has much to answer for.

Or he would if he wasn't already dead.

I caught a lot from Malkar when I swam through his head moments ago.

Now he and the others work on containing the mortal threat while the Lady of Death fights her brother.

Sadly, he's really trying to end her. Though gods cannot be killed, they can be banished. And though neither of them belong here, their worship has invited them to take part in mortal lives.

"If only you would constrain yourself to the wars fought in your name," Caethybdue says as she blocks another strike aimed at her neck.

She doesn't fight with a sword or weapon but with her hands. It's so strange to see her/me blocking a blade with my fingers.

Fingers made of bone and nothing else.

During this fight, she's become a skeletal figure. Perhaps it's a type of armor.

Yet despite her death-seeming, she remains beautiful. A picture of the natural order.

Unlike a bringer of war and strife.

"You claim to fight for Balance." Beyrthnel snorts. "But you only want them to fear and bow before the great Lady of Death."

He tries to stab her eyes, but she avoids the blow easily. Then she smacks his chin, and he flies back.

"Brother, you do yourself no favors by fighting me here. The pledge was made long ago, that those who bring death and new life are welcome. You do not."

"Lies!" He strides back to her and swings at her stomach.

She parries with her forearm and punches him in the face.

To my astonishment, red blood, like that of a human, flows from his nose.

"You bring only unrest and chaos. Not Balance."

He sneers. "You flirt with the boundaries daily. You think we don't know about your work with the Makers? That you whore yourself with one of them, against your own kind?"

Makers? Does he mean Evers?

"My kind are the children we bore in Faery, Brother. Why would you war against your own kind?"

" Not my kind. Not since The Meld." He looks sad, and for a moment, I pity this lost god. "The fae here are not our children, Caethybdue. They are corrupted by humanity. They don't sacrifice or pray in the old ways."

"And again, you lie." She punches him in the stomach, and Beyrthnel's ribs break through this armor. His blood drips onto the ground, and where it touches, everything withers and dies. "Tell the truth. Why are you so bent on walking this plane?"

"Because I'm bored, " he shouts. "I'm tired of pandering to our cousins and spawn who don't belong. We should own this world! There is so much life here. You feel it. I know you do. That's why you have never left, even though we were forced to go."

"I left."

"Ha. You created special children and continue to live through them." He stares into my eyes, seeing me. "Like the dryad you possess. Your precious necromancers. You skirt the agreement. Even now, you walk this plane."

"Because I was invited in. I didn't take. I asked. And I don't stay."

Actually, she bargained, but I don't think she wants my input here.

"I asked. Was invited into this creature." He points at himself, though he has to mean Enwiss. "But they don't serve. They desire things, power, wealth. It's always a bargain, and that is not a proper way to serve one's god."

"Beyrthnel, let go. Come home with me."

"Oh, with you?" He gives a harsh laugh. "You mean release this body and be imprisoned at home while you cavort with mortals and feast on their lives."

"You cannot win. Your time is over. The ritual incomplete."

"So you think."

In the blink of an eye, he has Malkar by the throat, forcing Malkar into his half-form. He stares at me, sees my fear, and smiles .

"Do not." Caethybdue is afraid. I can feel it.

"Now this one is worthy. This one understands the old ways, a true fae."

"Not…fae…" Malkar whispers while choking.

"With his magic, I can come in and rule the world. Make it a place where we can roam and create. Why should the merged realm go to the mortals, Sister? What have they ever done to deserve it?"

This from a god of war.

I feel compassion in the goddess, though, and it scares me. She's not helping Malkar. Why isn't she helping him? Why is she trying to talk to Beyrthnel when it's clear nothing will persuade him to give in but a solid defeat?

She drops her hands. "Release the dragon. He's not part of this."

"Of course he is. She cares for him. You precious child loves a beast."

"Yes, Brother. And that is why they are given this world. To love. To feel. To be."

He frowns. "I love."

"Yourself and no other. You have forgotten family and peace. Balance is more than black and white. It's nothing but shades of gray."

His knuckles blanch, and he cracks Malkar's neck.

No, I scream but make no sound.

And there he is, my dragon, in the Next.

All alone. And I can't move to save him.