Thomas Harlan - The shadow of Ararat

"I know what the Prince desires," Alais shot back, her voice low and filled with a palpable chill, "and unlike you, I give it to him."

"I've no time to discuss your fantasy life," Krista said, her eyes glinting. "We have work to do." She pushed past the blond woman, suppressing her surprise at the corded muscle she felt under the lush flesh. The prince was on his back and Gaius Julius was chafing his wrists.

Krista squatted beside the old Roman. "What is it?" Her voice was even, but concern leaked through.

The dead man looked up, his eyes filled with fear. "Breaking the last barrier was too much for him," Gaius Julius whispered. "He is cold, too cold…"

Krista frowned and took the Prince's head in her hands. He was cold, like ice. She cursed and felt for his pulse with her fingertips. "It's like the time before, when he carried too much of the power through his body. We've got to get something hot into him, some broth or soup." Krista stood, staring around in dismay. The great room was a sea of fire, cut only by the narrow honeycombs. Carrying the Prince out that way would be very dangerous. The temple room offered nothing. Her forehead creased in concentration. The priest was running away, she thought, heading for something… She spun around.

Alais was rising from the body of the old priest, her face flushed, her eyes glittering. There was a streak of blood on her cheek, dark and smoky against the pale cream of her flesh. Krista snarled, feeling a hot rush of rage suffuse her. She took two swift steps and her hand, stiff, lashed out, clipping the Walach woman on the ear. Alais' head snapped sideways and she skidded into the nearest altar.

"Fool!" Krista snarled. "He was the only one who knew the secrets of this place!"

Alais sprang back up, her face contorted in anger. Her long white teeth gleamed in the firelight. Krista dropped into guard, her knife dancing in the air in front of her. Alais blurred forward, quicker than any cat, curved claws snapping out from her fingers. Krista blocked right, chopping down with her hand, and stepped into the charge, her left elbow smashing into the Walach woman's face. Alais howled in agony and rolled away with the strike.

Behind them, as they circled, Gaius Julius strained to drag the Prince away into the shadows.

Alais lunged, her claws gleaming ivory in the ruddy wine-colored light. Krista skipped back, her knife still waving in the air. She felt a pillar behind her and leapt into the air, her left leg snapping out at Alais' head. The Walach woman ducked and her claws slashed at the inside of the Roman's thigh. Krista came down out of the kick and her right hand, the knife pointed downward, caught the blow. Alais howled in pain as the steel bit at the webbing between her fingers.

Krista sprang away from the pillar at her back, hitting the ground and rolling up, facing the way she had come. Alais sidled to her left, crouching low, firelight gleaming off her sweat-slick breasts. Krista lunged in, feinting with her knife. The Walach woman danced aside and uncoiled a kick of her own. A steel-tipped heel grazed Krista's head as she whipped away. The edge of the sharp metal tangled in her hair for a moment, cutting the leather fillet that held it back.

Krista danced aside from another lunge, her hair spilling out behind her in a dark waterfall. Her foot found the top of the steps. Alais suddenly fell back and Krista advanced a step, away from the steep slope of the stairs. The Walach woman snatched up her spear from the floor. Krista felt a wash of chill fear, but she had time to snake a curved iron hook from her belt. It was attached to a length of twisted, wire-cored rope wound around her waist. Alais advanced, the spear whirling in her hand, whistling through the air.

Krista skipped back, furiously unwinding the rope from her waist. The Walach woman shrieked a hair-raising yowl and leapt ahead, the spear blurring in the gloom. Krista swayed sideways, the leaf blade cutting the air where she was. She jumped forward, whipping the iron hook out and snapping it back. Alais ducked the flying hook but screamed in pain when it buried its head in her shoulder as Krista dragged it back to her in one motion. Blood fountained and Alais roared in rage. The Walach woman snapped the spear sideways and caught Krista in the chest.

Breath exploded out of her as the ironwood shaft cracked two ribs and flung her sideways into the pillar framing the steps. Krista's head rang like a gong and her nerveless fingers dropped the knife. The wire rope was still curled around her right arm, and it tangled the Walach woman. Alais, weeping with pain, dug the hook out of the flesh under her shoulder blade. Her hand gripped the rope like iron. Krista struggled to rise, but her vision was blurred. Two, then three, blond women with bare skin slick with blood wavered before her.

Alais yanked on the rope and Krista flew toward her. The Walach woman's right hand caught the Roman girl out of the air, her talons digging into Krista's throat. The Roman gagged, feeling cartilage crunch under the incredibly strong fingers of the barbarian woman. She clawed at Alais' eyes, but the Walach held her at arm's length, feet kicking fruitlessly at the air.

Alais laughed, her voice thick with rage, watching the Roman struggle in her grasp.

Krista's fingers dug into the Walach woman's shoulder, trying to pinch a nerve, but the corded muscle was like granite under her nails, shrugging aside her pitiful efforts. There was a roaring sound in Krista's ears and darkness seeped into her vision. The barbarian woman, her pale face split with a terrible grin, receded into a tunnel of swirling gray. Krista flexed her left arm and the spring-gun was in her palm. She thumbed the catch.

A six-inch iron dart suddenly sprouted from Alais' left eye in a fountain of blood. The burnished metal crackled with green fire as the spell that Maxian had placed on it so many weeks before discharged. Green light flooded out of the Walach woman, blazing in her eyes and mouth. Alais seemed to be screaming, but Krista couldn't hear her. She felt herself falling and then the marble floor embraced her with a sharp crack.

– |Gaius Julius approached the two bodies tentatively. He had dragged the Prince out of the way and had watched the remainder of the fight with a calculating eye. Krista lay sprawled on the steps, halfway down. Alais, curled into a tight ball, was at the edge of the platform. The green fire had faded, leaving her eyes hollow. The dead man knelt at her side and brushed the shriveled hair away from her face.

"Too greedy, little cat," he whispered. "Too much cream…"

He walked down the steps and knelt by the Roman girl. She still had a pulse, though swelling purple bruises marred the smoothness of her neck. Gaius Julius shook his head, wondering what to do. He thought of the Prince and his own fragile mortality and then stood up.

Alais was light, her body boneless and limp, as he carried her down the steps to the edge of the pit of fire. The roaring flames had been dying down since the walnut-hued man had perished. Still, the nearest pit was filled with sullen coals and a fierce heat. He raised the body over his head and then threw her forward. The blond woman plummeted down and was enveloped by the fire. Smoke billowed up in a dark cloud. Gaius Julius watched the smoke rise to the ceiling and then turned back to the living.

Behind him the fires guttered down, casting long shadows over the shattered statues. Heads peered out of the darkness, lying sideways amid a rubble of arms and stones. At the far end of the chamber, beyond the honeycombed pits, Khiron stood silently, waiting for the command of his master, holding Abdmachus by his neck. The Walach boys, cowed and whimpering, crouched behind him. The eyes of the homunculus were dark pits filled with guttering flame.