Pure Requiem - Aja James Page 0,63

the exact location of Medusa’s lair. Without the physical closeness, he can only guess at the general vicinity. The Adirondacks, as I’m told by Sophia, are one-hundred and sixty miles wide, and about a mile high. We cannot be searching aimlessly through the endless forests.

Now that we’re here, I can sense that Medusa is situated closer to the mouth of Avalanche Creek. We have to hike through a narrow gorge to get to the lake. Expect her to send out the big guns at this juncture to prevent us from getting too close.

He quickly goes on to explain the meaning of “big guns.”

The Paladin will likely be leading a few dozen seasoned and turned Pure and Dark warriors to attack us from the advantage of height. Target and isolate the Paladin if you can. The others will continue to fight without him, but he is their commander. They will be less coordinated without him in the lead.

Oh, and try to wound him enough that he’s close to death. It’s the only way his submerged soul can surface; unreliably, mind you, but at least it can for brief moments. And if you accidentally kill him in the process…well, such is war, I suppose.

But do try your best not to, because if he dies, Sophia becomes the Destroyer and the world will end as we know it.

No pressure.

Like silent death, the Paladin’s forces descend upon us at the mouth of the gorge, just as Erebu predicted. The other trials of the night were “cake walk” compared to the well-trained contingent we face now.

There must indeed be dozens of them, swarming us from all sides as we are forced to journey through the narrow canyon between two cliffs, the fast-flowing water of the creek rushing beneath our feet.

They are armed with ancient, but modernized weapons, far more powerful than the ones I faced millennia ago. Some of them carry Immortal-killers. I can hear the muffled sounds of the guns firing, exploding rock, water and trees all around us.

I cannot avoid the shrapnel from a nearby explosion as I duck and roll beneath the swinging blade of an enemy soldier. A couple pieces of jagged stone lodge into my shoulder and back, but I ignore the pain.

I have Medusa to thank for my training—I am used to the pain. It fuels my strength, sharpens my senses, making adrenaline rush like lightning through my veins.

I swing my double-bladed spear in a circular arc without looking behind me. I know exactly where the enemy is. Just as I intended, their severed head drops into the creek with a thunk and a splash, before disintegrating into ashes or dust.

Even though I can clear out at least six enemy warriors in one go with a swing from the laser sword I have secured to my weapon belt, I do not use it. I only have one shot at Medusa with the device. I cannot waste it.

Too many! Ishtar telepaths in our linked minds. We cannot get past this last line of defense!

I hear her quiet roar of wrath as she dispatches the soldiers that surround her in the form of the Great White Beast.

Vicariously, I feel the blood seeping from her many wounds. By some miracle, she has avoided getting hit by an Immortal-killer. The other wounds will heal, but once such a bullet enters the flesh, it will not stop burrowing until it reaches the heart and explodes it.

I make the same assessment. The skills of these warriors are equal to ours, yet they outnumber us at least five to one. At best, we can take down half or two-thirds of them before our wounds overwhelm us, our strength depleted, and we have made progress toward that end.

But the fight is taking its toll. Even if we manage to push through this last line of defense, we will be too weak to face Medusa in her monster form.

Tal! It’s Erebu! I’ve lost him! Where is he! I cannot see him!

I am briefly distracted by Ishtar’s cry inside my head, nearly getting cleaved in two by a giant battle-axe.

I feint to the left and swoop down, rolling and swiping my spear low at the same time, literally cutting my opponent’s feet from underneath him.

He falls with a howl, and I waste no time slicing his head off with a downward arc of my spear as I rebound from my crouch. I don’t hear the whispering disintegration of his physical form as I concentrate all of my senses on