Song of Dragons The Complete Trilogy - By Daniel Arenson Page 0,222

arms.

Kyrie's heart leaped. He charged forward with his torch. Agnus Dei and Lacrimosa ran too, screaming and waving torches.

The severed arm squirmed toward them, leaped from the ground, and slammed against their chests.

Lacrimosa fell and knocked into Agnus Dei, who knocked into Kyrie. Gloriae charged at the mimic, but it swung its remaining arm and drove her back. Its blade whirled.

The severed arm squirmed, and its hand caught Lacrimosa's hair. It pulled her to her feet. Lacrimosa wriggled and tried to pry herself loose, but could not. Unnaturally strong, the arm tugged her toward the body it had been attached to. The creature snarled at her, spraying her with drool.

"Lacrimosa," it hissed. "I was made with the blood of your husband." It spat a glob of blood onto her chest. "Do you recognize it? My master took it from his blade."

Agnus Dei, screaming and weeping, ran forward. She barrelled into the mimic, and it fell. It howled and its teeth sank into Agnus Dei's shoulder, but she seemed not to notice. She grabbed its head and slammed it against the floor again and again. The skull cracked, and centipedes spilled from it.

Gloriae slammed her blade down, severing the mimic's second link of arms. Kyrie set fire to it. The arms squirmed and screamed like a blazing snake.

Lacrimosa still struggled with the first severed arm; it was clutching her throat now. Kyrie rushed forward, set it ablaze, and its fingers opened. Lacrimosa breathed raggedly.

"Agnus Dei!" she whispered, hoarse.

The mimic's head had shattered. Blood and bone fragments spread across the cobblestones. And yet its jaw would not release Agnus Dei's shoulder. Kyrie grabbed the jaw, twisted, and managed to pry it off. He tossed it down and stomped on it until the teeth broke off.

Agnus Dei was screaming and sobbing. She drew her sword and began stabbing the mimic's torso, again and again. Its legs kicked and cockroaches fled from it.

"You have to burn it!" Gloriae said, but Agnus Dei seemed not to hear. She kept stabbing and weeping and screaming.

Kyrie touched her shoulder, but she seemed not to notice him.

"Agnus Dei," he said. "Kitten."

She spun toward him, eyes red and puffy. "It said... about Father, did you hear? It said...."

"It was lying, Agnus Dei," Kyrie said. "Don't listen to it." He handed her a torch. "Burn its body, Agnus Dei. Finish it."

Agnus Dei took the torch and stared down at the mimic. There was nothing left but twitching legs and a shredded torso.

A voice rose from it.

Kyrie gasped. How could it still speak? And yet its blood bubbled, and strange, gurgling words rose from it.

"We will... return... more of us... thousands... we will make you mimics too...."

Agnus Dei tossed the torch onto it.

The remains caught fire, and a scream rose from them, high-pitched. Kyrie covered his ears and grimaced. The scream went on and on, and the ruins shook.

Finally silence fell.

Kyrie breathed out shakily.

His wounds ached, his lungs burned, and he nearly collapsed.

"It's over," he said hoarsely. Agnus Dei crashed into his arms, and he held her. Gloriae and Lacrimosa joined the embrace. Blood and ash covered them.

"We beat them," Kyrie whispered into the embrace. Agnus Dei's hair surrounded his face like a pillow, scented of smoke. "We defended our home."

He looked to the eastern horizon. Red wisps spread across it. Dawn had arrived. It looked to Kyrie like rivers of blood.

One battle had ended. The war against the mimics, he knew, was only beginning.

LACRIMOSA

The young ones huddled under the archway, embracing one another. She had washed their wounds with spirits, bandaged them, and prayed for them. Now, as the youths whispered in the dawn, Lacrimosa could be alone with her thoughts, her grief, and her memories.

She walked to the edge of the courtyard. A bit of old wall, three feet tall, jutted there like a last tooth in the gums of an old dragon. Lacrimosa climbed atop it and stared into the dawn. Wind played with her hair. Snow fell lightly, kissing her cheeks. She looked toward the valley where her husband lay buried.

"I miss you, Ben," she whispered.

She missed his strong arms around her; his laughter, deep and rolling like distant thunder; the stubble on his face; the softness in his eyes when she kissed him.

"Watch over me, Ben. You walk now in our halls beyond the stars, with our parents, with our siblings. You're at rest now. I continue the fight for you."

The wind gusted, opening her cloak, chilling her. Lacrimosa hugged herself. It would be so easy,