to move. They walked slowly, limbs creaking. The crude statues, those carved from the columns, barely moved at all.
"Charge at them!" Lacrimosa shouted. "Give them no mercy. Fight for the Draco stars, for the rebirth of your home."
They began to move faster. Soon they were running. Their feet thundered, kicked up snow and dirt, and they shouted. Their cries were like cracking stone, like weeping forests, like the pain of Requiem. It sounded almost like the deep, mournful cries of dragons.
"Fire, then stone," Lacrimosa whispered, and watched the statues crash into the army of mimics.
Blood, chips of stone, and gobbets of flesh flew. There were ten mimics for each statue. The rotting creatures hacked at the marble warriors, breaking off arms, heads, and legs. The mimics were made of flesh, but their blows bore the strength of ancient magic. The marble statues swung at them, their arms tearing through rotted flesh, scattering limbs and heads. Black blood and rot sprayed the snow.
Hope filled Lacrimosa. We can do this. We can defend our home.
Then she heard cries that chilled her blood.
"For Requiem!" Gloriae cried. She brandished her sword in one hand, a torch in the other.
"For Queen Lacrimosa!" cried Agnus Dei and Kyrie, raising their own swords and torches.
The three youths leaped over the fiery ring, howled, and charged into battle.
"No!" Lacrimosa shouted, horror clutching at her. "Stay with me. Here!"
They did not hear. Swinging their weapons, the youths crashed into the battle and began hacking at mimics.
Lacrimosa cursed and began running across the courtyard. Stupid children! They had raised warriors of stone so they would not have to fight themselves. If the mimics don't kill them, I will.
She reached the ring of fire. The flames rose around her, blocking her view. They were lower in one spot; that was where the youths had jumped out to battle. Cursing, Lacrimosa jumped over the fire and ran toward battle. The children might be dumber than doorknobs, but I must protect them.
She drew Stella Lumen, her father's sword. Its blade hissed and reflected the firelight. Two mimics rushed at her, pus oozing from the stitches that held them together. They swung jagged blades.
Lacrimosa was no soldier. She had not trained in swordplay like Gloriae. But she had fought enough battles to muster courage if not skill. She parried left and right, screaming. She swung a torch in her left hand, her blade in the right. She let them taste steel and fire. They fell back.
"Daughters!" she called. "Kyrie! Back to the fort. Do not meet them in open battle."
She could not see them. Everywhere around her, the statues and mimics fought. Severed mimic limbs crawled across the battlefield, clutching her boots. She stomped them and burned them with her torch.
"Requiem!" Kyrie called somewhere in the distance, his voice nearly drowned under the roar of battle. Lacrimosa did not know what she craved more; to kill mimics, or to clobber the boy over the head.
A mimic skirted around two statues and raced toward her. Lacrimosa cursed and raised her blade. The mimic was shaped as a monstrous centaur. Its lower half was a headless, rotting man running on all fours. Sewn onto the man's shoulders, rose the nude torso, arms, and head of a woman. Her hair was made of snakes, and her teeth were jagged metal. In each hand, the rotting woman wielded an axe.
Horror, white and burning, spread through Lacrimosa. She tightened her grip on her sword.
"Stella Lumen, burn with the light of stars," Lacrimosa whispered, holding the blade before her. "Father, be with me today."
The strange centaur charged toward her, squealed, and swung an axe.
Lacrimosa dropped to her knees and slid forward through the snow. The axe whistled over her head. As she slid, Lacrimosa swung her blade and cut the mimic's leg.
It screeched, a sound that seemed to shake the mountain. Snow cascaded. Lacrimosa leaped to her feet, and the mimic charged toward her. It swung both axes at her head. She leaped back. The centaur raced toward her.
Lacrimosa lobbed her torch. It hit the centaur's upper half, then fell into the snow. The mimic screamed. Its chest reddened and crackled. Before it could recover, Lacrimosa shouted, ran toward it, and swung her blade.
Stella Lumen opened the creature's stomach. Snakes spilled from it like entrails. They squirmed around Lacrimosa's feet, hissing.
An axe swung. Lacrimosa parried and sparks flew. She thrust her sword and hit the mimic's neck.
Blood showered. The mimic screamed. Lacrimosa slashed again, and the mimic fell. She stabbed