I ran on. In the shadows that lurked around the cavern's point a simple urn sat on a pedestal of stone.
Power within, Amaya said. Crush.
We slid to a stop, raised the sword two-handed, and brought her down on the urn as hard as we could. The dark steel sliced through the urn as easily as it would have through butter, and the contents spewed out, a gluey mess of blood and other matter. In the center of the now shattered urn lay a small heart, its rhythm matching the beat in the stone around us. We raised the sword fractionally and slashed down. The blade shuddered as steel met flesh, then slowly, surely, it sliced through. The beat of life in the stone around us became unsteady, erratic.
Not dead, not yet.
I raised the sword to finish the job, but the Rakshasa's scream swung me around. This time it was more than fury. This time it was devastation.
And this time it wasn't just the exotic Rakshasa who came at me, but every damn one of them.
Fight, Amaya said. Now.
We did. With a ferocity and skill that wasn't mine, we charged into the middle of them and tore them apart, piece by piece. It was a bitter, bloody battle that had blood pouring from almost every scrap of my body, but soon five of them were dead and only the exotic Rakshasa was left.
I expected her to attack, but instead she stepped back. I raised the sword, fighting Amaya's urge to attack, my limbs trembling with exhaustion as I watched her warily. The Rakshasa's gaze swept the destruction around us, then moved to the shattered remains of the urn. Something close to grief moved across her ruined features, then her gaze returned to mine.
"It is done," she said softly. "The dark god is dead. I have failed in my duty to her."
She bowed low, then dropped to her knees before me and didn't move.
Waiting for me to step forward and finish what I'd started.
Kill, Amaya said, and my fingers clenched tight against the hilt as I raised the sword.
But I fought Amaya's desire and stared instead at the Rakshasa. She just knelt there, waiting for death. I shivered. My task had always been to kill this spirit, but it didn't seem right to do it like this—in cold blood rather than in the heat of battle.
Kill, Amaya said again. Will I?