Ann Aguirre - Devil's Punch

“I don’t expect you to defend the city alone,” I said. “You were hired to keep watch over the palace, and that you have done. Now stand back.”

Quieting, they did. I wouldn’t leave the safety of the wards without a little leverage, and I was about to summon it. First I built an image of the Gorder in my mind. Then I shaped the spell energies as I had done that first time, outside the city. Energy spindled to life at my core, flickering and wild, like lightning over water.

Then I sliced a hole up high in the glimmering field that protected the castle. Too high for anything but a flyer to reach; it was a necessary, calculated temporary vulnerability. The guards cried out in protest, and I ignored them, along with mutters from Chance and Shannon. Greydusk held his silence, trusting me fully.

With a shout of “ Advenio !” I released the spell.

Outside the walls, the ground rumbled. My Gorder was in the city, looking for me. I’d suspected that might be the case, as it had imprinted on me like a big pet, and now I would use it to destroy my enemies, just as it had freed us from the magus trap. I stood my ground as the others backed away. They didn’t know my plan and for obvious reasons I hadn’t shared it.

I couldn’t protect them all. The wards would do it in my absence. This city belonged to me, and I would fight for it. Since I had no army, it fell to my magick and me. So be it .

When the Gorder stuck its blind head up over the wall, scenting me with its open mouth, I took a running start and leapt from the rampart. I passed through the narrow gap in the field and as I tumbled back, I sealed it behind me, so they could not follow. Chance tried, and he slammed into an implacable wall. His face twisted when he realized my intentions, but I couldn’t hear his cries as I fell. I might have managed a levitation spell, if I hadn’t focused on closing the wards. I was too close to the ground to have time now.

“Catch me, friend!” In answer, the Gorder snapped its jaws shut, snagging my thigh just before I slammed into the ground. The save hurt, wrenched my back and pierced my flesh, but the creature didn’t mean to harm me. It adored me; the feeling rolled off it in waves.

“Down now.”

The monster dropped me as gently as it could manage and shivered in delight when I stroked its side. I pictured our mutual enemy and sent it along our bond. Fury sang in my blood as I scrambled up; there was a place to rest where its wormy neck met its lizard shoulders. Gorder hide felt rough and hot to the touch while bumps along its back gave me a place to hang on.

“Ready to fight?” My monstrous mount reared and carried me toward the battle I heard ringing in the distance.

If I encountered more beasts, I might bend them to my will. I had power to spare and it could best be spent on driving an army instead of limited to offensive spells. The ones I’d left behind fell away like smoke in the wind. So did my doubts and fears. Distance became no obstacle with the fearsome Gorder carrying me at such breakneck speed. We raced toward the city gates. First I’d pacify the worst areas and then I’d hunt down the magicians responsible for dismantling the Vortex.

“The queen!” The awed cry went up from those cowering in broken buildings. “Ninlil will save us!”

I will, or die trying .

As I passed, I called, “Get to safety! This will be over soon.”

The Noit hadn’t exaggerated the threat. Smoke rose from multiple fires, and the screaming increased when I drew closer to the battle. I unleashed a spell to suck the air away from the flames, and they sputtered out. The Gorder ate a demon mage casting from a rooftop, and I raised up on my knees to assess the scene. Saremon insurgents, definitely .

A nightmare monster lashed out at random victims, eviscerating them with its swordlike talons. It had black skin and spines all over its body. Mine , I thought. The spell took shape in my head, a sweet, soul-stealing magick, and I unleashed it on the Swordwraith. The creature stiffened, its wild rage fighting my mental leash, but I pressed while the Gorder whipped its tail, smashing another Saremon. With a scream, it accepted my mental domination and turned its natural weapons to my will.

Swordwraith and Gorder—my army grows .

But it gave me some indication how many creatures I could hold at any given time. One more would tax my limits. Four would break my mind wide open and unleash those I controlled at the worst possible time. I’d pit these two against any foes, however, so I shouldn’t need more.

In short order, the Swordwraith and Gorder threshed through my opponents, leaving the terrified citizens intact. A few at a time, they rose from the wreckage, cheering. Even in the old days, they could not have sounded more glad or grateful. Listening to the welcome shouts of “Ninlil! Ninlil!” I turned the Gorder toward the next pocket of insurrection.

As we moved, the magick purled out of me in trickles. I gauged my reserves and calculated how long I could manage these two beasts. The Gorder, since it liked me, required less output. The Swordwraith fought my tether with each step, draining me faster. In time, I’d kill it and seek a more docile pet.

I went from zone to zone, destroying resistance and putting out fires. After each fight, I grew weaker. More exhausted. But I pressed on, hearing the screams in the night that said there was nobody else coming to save my people. The wreckage ravaged me; nothing so dire had happened inside Xibalba in living memory.

The streets ran with blood, choked with the detritus of fallen buildings. Corpses lay with no one to cart them away, and quasits shrieked and circled, diving to rend and gnaw the flesh. Noit sector, clear. Luren sector, fires out. In the Phalxe part of the city, I collected another pet, and added to my mental burden. The Wailer resembled an enormous stingray made of darkness and malice with a broad, flat mouth that hurled sonic screams at my enemies. They fell after one blast, eyes bleeding. I stopped casting entirely. Taking the wailer for my small army also meant hitting my limit. I could manage no more.

Pain became my constant companion as I swept the streets, searching for the Saremon who kept the Vortex down. I hit heavy resistance in the Mhizul quarter and I ducked low against the Gorder’s neck as a fireball exploded on the stones in front of me. The Swordwraith screamed and charged; it was all I could to aim it at the mage instead of the helpless mob fleeing before her.

Its long, bladed arms lashed out, severing the Saremon at the waist. The upper half of the body tilted and fell over while the legs took two more steps before buckling. Blood fountained up, slicking the streets, and the terrified cries increased until the citizens realized the Swordwraith wasn’t attacking them. The monsters trembled, tugging fiercely against my mental leash, but I held firm.

“Find shelter!” I called.

As one, the crowd dropped to its knees amid the carnage and bowed their heads. “Yes, my queen.”

“Now!”

They did as I bade them, running away toward the city center. The worst of the damage lay closer to the walls, where more monsters gathered. By dawn, I had quieted the last city block and turned toward the broken gates. There, a monstrous army gathered, but they were so wild with hunger and rage that they fought among themselves, just inside the city. My vision turned spotty from the effort of holding my three pets, and I could only send them all a vague order to attack.

The Swordwraith hurled itself into the fray, slicing limbs and veins and keening its vicious delight. The Wailer fluttered over the mass of beasts and aimed a shout that liquefied half their brains. A mob of monsters fell over, all wings and fangs and razor-sharp claws. The Gorder lashed and ate and smashed with its tail while I held on with the last of my last strength.