shout, tail in hand, rushing the creature with double the speed. With a deft spin in mid-stride Kreios twisted the tail, stiffening it, wielding it like a massive pike. He drove it deep into the creature at the joint between thorax and abdomen, severing it completely in half, following through in one motion, cracking the whip again.
The demon’s voice was a wretched gurgle; pathetic. Thick and juicy innards were thrown out into the arena of combat, burning like phosphorus on contact wherever they landed.
Kreios looked down at what his hands had wrought. The demon’s exoskeleton began to break apart, turning into wisps of black smoke that rose up briefly and then fell back to the tarmac, boiling there for a moment before being sucked up by the pavement like a sponge, disappearing.
“Now for the other one.” Kreios walked to the side of the dumpster and looked down at the pinned and bleeding woman.
“And you…?” asked Kreios.
Trina coughed. Blood poured from her mouth.
Kreios knew her lungs were filling up. “Oh. That is…sad for you.”
He leaned down and took hold of the object that hung from her neck and ripped it from the leather thong. He held it up to the lights of the parking lot. It was an amulet, the figure of a chameleon rendered in pure white jade. It changed colors even as he looked at it. His face became grim; he knew precisely what it meant.
The woman spoke. “Please! Don’t kill me…I…”
“I will not kill you, Trina Wilson.” Kreios pocketed the object. “I will leave you here to die slowly. Your body will bleed out soon. It will hurt then more than it does now. Much more. Your legs will swell when you begin to burn. Your eyes will melt in their sockets. And when that happens…you will see where you are bound. Wait until the veil is lifted. Then you will see in truth. Your remains will disintegrate in the fire that I have come to set. There will be nothing left.”
Kreios stood, looking to the sky. “I will find every one of your clan…The Nri?” He looked at her; he wasn’t asking, he was taunting.
She hissed at him again, angered at the mention of the truth.
“I will burn all of them as well. They will wish for a quick death, but they too…will not taste it.” He felt the anger surging within him again and he clenched his fists in order to contain it.
He knelt down, his face inches from hers. “Blood for blood,” he said. And then he was gone.
Soon the Riverside Bar was a blazing inferno. And Trina Wilson was burning.
Arabia, 1244 B.C.
There she was. At play in the grass with one of the kittens, surrounded by wildflowers and ancient trees. He was there in the grass too, relaxing, smoking his pipe, blowing smoke rings. He looked through them to the mountains beyond and closed his eyes.
It was summer. Beautiful. He lived alone with Eriel, the battle to defend Ke’elei six years behind them. It had made her safe, had bound his people together and scattered the rest of the Brotherhood. He and Yamanu had hunted them for another year after the great battle. If any were left, they were deep underground.
Eriel laughed and teased the tiny bundle of fur with a ball on a string. “Kitty,” Eriel called him, pawed and jumped at the ball, arching his back and hissing. This made her laugh even harder and Kreios smiled in spite of himself.
“Look, Daddy, Kitty is trying to be a big boy. See how he hisses?” She tossed back her black hair and yanked the ball and string away, making Kitty hiss even more.
“You should be nice to that kitten,” he laughed. “One day it will be a big cat. You do not want him to be mean.” They both laughed and Eriel continued her little game.
Like ripples in a pond, the laughter smoothed its own way out of him, and all too soon. Kreios didn’t know what to think of the quiet; didn’t know what to do with it. He was accustomed to war and its particulars, hiding and trying to blend in. The quiet, the solitude, the peace…though it was still at alien to him, it made all the difference.
He saw a few friends—Yamanu for instance—on occasion. For the most part this new life was safely off the beaten path. Out here in the wild he could be himself. Eriel could grow and learn without being looked at with suspicion and fear.