5. Tiamat

Chapter 5

Tiamat

Morning comes far too early and just our luck. A massive army has amassed outside of this very cavern. My mother comes up alongside of me and looks out across the expanse before us. "What do you plan to do?" She rest's her hand on my shoulder as we study the creatures as they move.

"Nikita and her mother rule the underworld. So summoning Nikita would probably be the best and easiest solution." Looking over at my mother, she smiles and backs away from the cavern entrance.

I start a small fire on the floor of the cavern and it draws the attention of my mates. "What are you doing, Tia?" Draven looks briefly from the cavern entrance, then at me.

"Calling for reinforcements." Cutting my hand, I let my blood fall into the fire. "I call upon Death Eternal on khlōros she rides. I beseech the pale rider to manifest and wipe the field clean. I offer in sacrifice my blood as payment for this boon." The fire pulses several times, then dies, but emits no smoke.

"Did it work?" Knox asks as he paces back and forth near the entrance.

"Yes, now we defend this position until Nikita gets here." I can only hope my sister from another mister isn't too busy with her nest to assist. I would hate to burn out this far from our target.

A thunderous roar shakes the very earth under our feet, and it feels like we have waited forever for it. It's the call of a wyrm dragon, but that's not what I summoned. We race to the mouth of the cavern and the largest skull dragon I have ever seen is laying waste to the dark forces that are threatening us.

Once the majority of the demons and demon spawn are destroyed, the dragon lands and two figures step down. One looks like a white specter with a horse made of bone that rides up beside it. The second doubles in size and mounts a much larger horse and they thunder across the land. The specter raises its hands and the dead begin to rise and follow behind it.

Between the dead and the large man on the red horse, they destroy the rest of the demons on the battlefield. They ride up to the cavern as the dragon lumbers closer to us. I don't know if we should prepare to fight or run for our lives. It's now that the skeleton horse vanishes from under its rider and the rider shifts. Nikita stands before me with her mate Michael, as well as the legendary Maelstor Rex.

"You summoned me and I have come. Let's finish this." Nikita gets a wicked glimmer in her eye and from here on out I know we will be alright.

I close the distance between us and hug her tightly. We didn't always get along, but in the last five years, things changed. "I'm so happy you're here." Nuzzling her cheeks, I smile looking at her two mates. "Thank you for coming so quickly." I intertwine my fingers with Nikita's and lead them into the cavern.

"So, what brought you down here?" Nikita moves and sits on Rex's lap, with Michael next to her.

"My mate's father was killed and his head was stolen." Looking down briefly, I sigh, then glance back up at her. "We believe that when the head is stolen, the soul can't make it to the astral plane. They basically get trapped here in their body, never to move on." Rex nods along and kisses Nikita's cheek.

"Tiamat speaks true of our kinds belief. Humans and angels call it purgatory. It's a place where souls are trapped, unable to move on to the great beyond." His voice rumbles and part of me is concerned with having a true wyrm dragon in the cavern.

"So these assmunches have his head somewhere down here?" Nikita tilts her head and then waves her hand. A small portal opens and a sort of demon steps out with a glass filled with what looks like blood. Nikita accepts the glass, then looks back at me.

"I can sense where it is." I hold up the dagger that was Austins and show it to Nikita.

"Ah, the lost is found locator spell. That's a great one." She smiles and sips at her drink.

Michael starts to laugh and hikes his thumb over his shoulder at Nikita. "She uses it all the time. She loses her car keys at least once a week."

Nikita shakes her head, looking at Michael, and then looks over at my mates. "We'll find your father's head and lay him to rest properly. Even if we have to burn this place to the ground." Nikita and my mom tap their foot to music we can't hear.

"Seriously?" I glance between the two of them.

"What? It's an excellent song and fits the situation." Aurora shrugs and laughs. "Onto serious shit. When are we leaving?" Mom puts her hands on her hips and I feel like I'm in trouble all over again.

Nikita glances over at me, then back to mom. "Now. They don't know my mates and I are here. The element of surprise is ours." Standing up, I assemble my troops. As I walk out of the cavern, I see an army of the dead standing tall in perfect rows, awaiting their next command.

"It's nice to be friends with Death and War." I playfully bump Nikita's shoulder as we walk towards her troop.

"You've got friends in looooow places…" She makes fun of the song and herself at the same time.

"Where the blood runs hot, and the fear chases the drow away." I fight the laughter, changing the lyrics as we walk side by side.

"I'm not big on small spaces," Aurora chimes in. "I'll slip on down to hell spaces, chasing the drow away." She smirks, trying to keep the game going.

We stare at Michael when it's his turn in our game of twist that lyric. He shrugs his shoulders. "I'm your friend in the hell spaces, where the blood flows down chasing the drow away."

Draven points at what's left of the drow and creatures. "They're not okay." He tries to sing his line and winces.

Rolling my eyes, I laugh a little. "You'll get there, babe. We've been doing this since we were little." I motion between Nikita, Michael and me as we get ahead of her troops to lead them towards the mountains.

"I was never little." Michael chimes in. Angels were created, not born, so his statement is extremely accurate.

Rolling my eyes, I shake my head and fill my mates in on the facts about angels. They nod along, listening to my descriptions.

I stand tall in the desolate landscape, flanked by my cousin Nikita and her mates on my left, my own mates to my right. The air is thick with anticipation, the acrid scent of ash and decay swirling around us. My mother's hybrid Lycan beast, a formidable creature with talons that click in restless eagerness, looms behind me. She's a silent sentinel ready to unleash its fury.

The company is an eclectic assembly of power and prowess. Nikita, my cousin, morphs seamlessly into the form of the pale rider upon her skeletal horse, a haunting figure against the stark backdrop. Michael, one of Nikita's mates, transforms into his formidable War form, astride a bright red horse that seems to blaze with an otherworldly fire. Together, we form a grim procession, marching towards the foreboding mountains looming ahead.

The echoing steps of the undead reverberate through the eerie silence, a macabre symphony that is both unsettling and oddly comforting. The undead, loyal in their spectral existence, follow us with an unwavering commitment. Their presence, a reminder of the peril we face, doesn't daunt us; instead, it fortifies our resolve.

The horizon, once a foreboding expanse, now appears less daunting. Rex's Wyrm dragon, a creature at home in this hellscape, towers beside us. The shifting shadows on its scales reflect the ominous landscape. He stands ready, the sinuous grace of a creature prepared for the tumultuous journey ahead. For Rex's dragon, the transition between forms is second nature, a stark contrast to the toll it takes on my body.

We march towards the mountains, a collective force moving with a sense of grim determination. Deep within my soul, a knowing pulse — Austin's missing head awaits in the heart of those looming peaks. The mountains cast long shadows that seem to reach out, as if beckoning us into the abyss. The weight of the unknown hangs in the air, a palpable tension that heightens with every step.

As we advance, the harsh reality of the situation becomes clear. We have no idea how many Drow lurk in the shadows, nor do we possess any inkling of the dangers concealed within the mountains. The uncertainty sharpens the edges of our focus, and we press on, resolute yet wary. We are ready to face the unknown that awaits us in the heart of the looming peaks.

My gaze remains fixed on the ominous mountains, the dark peaks looming like ancient sentinels guarding a long-forgotten secret. A subtle movement in the shadows catches my attention, and I raise my hand in a swift gesture, signaling to my mates and my mother. The unspoken communication ripples through our group, a silent understanding that we stand on the precipice of the unknown.

Nikita and her mates, attuned to the subtle cues, tighten their grips on weapons and ready themselves for the impending threat. The air crackles with tension, a palpable energy that courses through the assembled warriors as we brace for whatever may emerge from the dark expanse ahead.

From the depths of the shadows, several Beholders emerge, hovering with an eerie grace. The flying orbs, adorned with tentacles and numerous unblinking eyes, buzz around our group like malevolent sentinels. Their presence is unmistakable — gathering information for their unseen masters, orchestrating the unseen machinations of the Drow.

With a keen awareness, the Beholders draw nearer, their relentless scrutiny intensifying. It's a surreal dance, the grotesque forms of the floating eyeballs closing in on us. The air becomes charged with a strange energy, a disconcerting hum that heralds the imminent clash.

My mother's Lycan, a majestic hybrid with talons that echo with the sound of impending doom, has had enough. With a powerful leap, the great white beast soars into the air, talons extended. In a flurry of motion, it pounces on one of the Beholders, tearing it apart with a savage grace.

Chunks of magenta and black flesh, along with vibrant green vitae, splatter across our group. The unexpected explosion of gore elicits a chorus of startled exclamations. My mother's audacious antics prompt a chuckle to escape my lips. She flicks the remnants of the Beholder off her talons with a casual yet victorious gesture, the grotesque display a macabre testament to our unwavering determination in the face of the unknown. As the lingering scent of the Beholder's demise mingles with the air. We steel ourselves for whatever else may lie in wait within the shadowy depths of the looming mountains.