James Wyatt - In the Claws of the Tiger

No giants waited and no zakyas threatened. Maija stood a few paces in front of the stone altar, her fingers twisted in the gestures of a spell. Krael faced her, snarling, his flail swinging slowly in his hand. The warforged lay motionless on the floor, cut in half at the waist. An enormous sword, looking like it was made of pure midnight, hovered in the air near Krael, dancing around him and occasionally lashing out to cut him.

Janik realized that Krael looked very weak. The magical sword bit and sliced him faster than his undead body could regenerate, and Maija’s spells had taken a toll as well. Janik wasn’t sure how much longer Krael would last, and he noticed in himself a strange urge to rush forward and help his old enemy-help him defeat Maija.

“Dania,” Janik said quietly, “it’s time. Whatever power you have to fight this thing, I sure hope it works.”

Though Janik had spoken in a mere whisper, Krael heard it, for he turned his head to glance at the doorway. In that instant, Maija completed her spell, engulfing the vampire in a blinding burst of sinister, red-black flame.

When the blaze of hellfire subsided, Krael was gone.

Janik, my love,” Maija said with a sneer, “how kind of you to come and offer yourself in sacrifice.”

The floor rumbled as though the fiend imprisoned in the ziggurat were stirring, restive in his bonds. Janik’s eyes grew wide as he looked around for any sign that Dhavibashta might be breaking free.

“Janik,” Dania whispered, “there is still time. I need you all to keep her busy, and we need to weaken her if I’m going to force it out. Go!”

Janik needed no further encouragement. Drawing his sword as he ran, he closed the distance to Maija but came up short as the midnight sword slashed through the air in front of him, missing his throat by less than a hand’s breadth.

“Hang on, Janik!” Mathas called from near the door. “I’ll see if I can eliminate that sword!” Janik heard him chanting, but watched Maija’s mouth curl into a wicked smile.

“I don’t think so, dear Mathas,” Maija said, thrusting her hand forward as if to punch, launching an invisible force that sent Mathas crashing against the wall behind him. With the wind knocked out of him, Mathas couldn’t continue his spell. Janik brought his short sword up to block the slashing arc of Maija’s magical blade. The clash of the ebony force and Janik’s steel sent black sparks crackling into the air, stinging Janik’s eyes.

Dania advanced just behind Janik, moving with caution, her sword flaring with holy power in her hand. Auftane came up next to her, holding his mace in both hands but looking a little unsure what to do.

“Don’t hold back, Auftane!” Dania shouted, sensing his hesitation. “At least not until I can get the spirit out of her!”

“Cast me out of this vessel, Dania?” Maija said, an expression of genuine surprise crossing her face for an instant. “That seems unlikely.”

With a quick gesture, she directed her sword away from Janik to slash at Dania, catching her off guard and making a long, shallow gash in her upper arm.

“And extremely inconvenient,” Maija added.

Janik, no longer threatened by the sword, tumbled forward past Maija, coming out of his roll right behind her. He aimed a fierce jab at her lower back-a potentially crippling blow, if placed just right. At the last instant, Maija turned slightly and his eyes met hers.

So many nights he had gazed into those warm pools of brown. Her eyes had always been windows to him, letting him see everything that was in her heart, anything that troubled her-and all the love she held for him. Was it some trick of the rakshasa that he thought he saw that love still? Or was Maija showing herself to him despite the Fleshrender’s control?

His attack lost its strength and glanced off an invisible force surrounding her body. He stood helpless, transfixed by her eyes.

“Janik,” she murmured softly, “heart of my heart …”

“Janik, no!” Dania screamed. The first thing he noticed were Dania’s inhuman, quicksilver eyes, but then he saw the flash of fire in Maija’s hand. He leaped backward, throwing himself onto the floor as another blast of flame roared over him, searing him with its heat though it failed to engulf him. He landed hard but kept rolling until he could get his feet under him again. Maija’s fiendish cackle echoed louder than the blast of fire.

Auftane made a wide circle around Maija and hurried over to Janik. “Let me help you,” he said, one of his curing wands in his hand. Janik saw Mathas, leaning weakly against the far wall, launch a bolt of lightning from his fingers toward Maija.

Janik gaped in horror as the lightning forked to pass harmlessly around Maija. With a flick of her wrist, she deflected part of the spell back at Mathas. The lightning crackled up and down his body. He fell to the floor and lay still.

“Help Mathas, damn it,” Janik barked at the dwarf. He had better be alive, Maija, he thought, or … or what?

Or I’ll never forgive myself for bringing him here, he thought. He shifted his grip on his sword and advanced warily toward Maija again.

“So you’re playing the cleric, are you, dwarf?” Maija growled, and she thrust her palm in Auftane’s direction, sending him sprawling on his face. The wand clattered across the floor. “Tinkering with the power of the gods?” She emphasized her last word by slamming her fist into her open hand. Auftane convulsed once with the force of an unseen blow, then lay still.

In that instant, Janik managed to land one solid blow on Maija, his sword jabbing into her shoulder. Her cry of pain sounded like the roar of a zakya, but she ignored him, turning her attention to Dania instead.

“Now you, Dania,” she snarled. “I always knew you lusted after my Janik.”

“It wasn’t lust,” Dania said, still on the defensive against the wildly swinging sword. “Not love, either.”

Janik cocked an eyebrow as he managed to nick Maija’s other shoulder with his blade. Maija gestured dismissively at him, knocking him back.

“The truth is, Maija,” Dania said, “I wanted to be you.”

Maija stepped backward at that, making Janik wonder whether some remnant of Maija’s own will expressed her surprise that way, or whether Dania’s response had taken the Fleshrender aback. In any case, it was the distraction that Dania needed. With one mighty blow, she smashed her sword into Maija’s dancing magical blade, shattering it into tiny shards of darkness that melted into the floor. Then she extended her arm straight out in front of her, the tip of her sword leveled at Maija’s throat.

“Out,” Dania said.

Janik wasn’t sure what he had expected, but that wasn’t it. Some elaborate ritual, perhaps, or a lengthy prayer invoking the power of the Silver Flame. But not this, just a simple command-spoken with such authority that if Janik could have stepped out of his own skin, he would have. Dania’s voice echoed in the chamber, resonating with power.

Maija stood transfixed, her eyes locked with Dania’s. Slowly, Dania’s sword arm lowered, but both of them were otherwise motionless. Janik stood helpless, watching as silent conflict raged between the two women.

Silence settled on the room. In the stillness, Janik felt some resonance of the battle he was witnessing, and he realized what had failed to sink in before: Dania was no less possessed than Maija. At least four wills were involved in this battle, with Dania and the spirit inhabiting her body pitted against the Fleshrender and the far greater evil that rumbled in the earth beneath the place. Janik wondered whether Maija’s will played any part at all, or if she was just the battleground, the piece of land these titanic forces were fighting over.