The Last Slayer Read online

  The air caught in my throat. Without the robe or elaborate armor, he no longer looked like a gallant knight. He reminded me of a rogue warrior, lone and dangerous.

  The smell of sweat and musk on numerous dragon bodies drifted my way with the breeze. I glanced at the walls surrounding the courtyard. More than just the guards were out and about. Were they expecting an attack? Maybe they were nervous after Supäi’s visit. Who could blame them?

  Ramiel tossed me one of the swords. I caught it. It had good balance but was too long, and the jewels on the hilt dug into my palm. I wanted my katana.

  “Carry it with you until you get your own,” he said.

  “I have one already.”

  “Insufficient to fight a dragonlord.”

  I couldn’t read his expression. “Or Supäi, apparently.”

  “She’s not a dragonlord.”

  “She’s a servant of slayers.”

  “No longer. She serves Nathanael, as do her three sisters. She was one of the betrayers.”

  The betrayers—the groups of supernaturals and mortals who’d turned their back on the slayers during the Twilight of Slayers. If it weren’t for them, the dragonlords might have failed to exterminate their enemies. Or so the old texts went, but many of the accounts were sketchy and contradictory.

  Ramiel’s tone didn’t reveal anything about his thoughts. Maybe he was angry on the slayers’ behalf. Or maybe he felt that they all deserved to die.

  “Why did she come tonight?” The hilt in my hand didn’t comfort me much. “What did she want?”

  “You.” Ramiel flicked his sword. The motion made the air whistle. “But it was an idle threat, nothing more. If she’d thought she could really do something to hurt you, she would’ve done it.”

  That made me pause. Nathanael didn’t seem like the type to issue idle threats. So there had to be a reason for his sending her. Unless she was acting on her own.

  “She’s not dead, is she?” I said.

  He shook his head.

  “Is she spying on us?”

  “No. We are safe.” He raised his sword, subtly changed his stance. “En garde.”

  I blinked. “You want to fight me?”

  “I want to know how well you can use a sword. I already know you can use draco perditio.”

  A shudder ran like an invisible wave through the dragons who were watching us. I guess they really hated draco perditio.

  Well, if he wanted to see…why not? I’d always wondered how I’d fare against a demigod. Now I had a chance to find out.

  “En garde,” I said. I was probably smiling.

  For years, I’d trained in multiple disciplines of martial arts. It’s something all hunters have to do, and I had an added incentive—avenging Miguel. I wanted to be ready when I faced his killer again. So I was good—really good—but Ramiel had centuries of experience on me.

  Our swords clashed, the force of it making my forearms ache. My blade held, thankfully. His was a magical sword whose power was found in the heartstones he’d collected to realize his full potential. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d broken my weapon with the first blow.

  Everyone was quiet. Only the lazy snappings of the wyverns’ wings and the clashing of our swords broke the moonlit silence.

  We danced a complicated series of steps, leaving dark impressions on the grass. Most people don’t understand—they think you only need skill and a strong arm to use a sword. But it’s more a dance of life and death. Win, you live; lose, you die.

  Blood flowed through me and warmed my muscles. Sweat beaded and dried in the night wind, lowering my temperature. I could hear myself breathing softly and evenly. Steel sang its violent song, yet it calmed me, intensified my focus.

  I lost count of the number of times our swords crossed, the number of times I dodged his well-aimed blows. I parried with everything I had, and I wanted Ramiel to do the same.

  I didn’t want a mercy draw—or worse, a gift victory.

  As if sensing my thoughts, he lunged in. I side-stepped but it was too late. The tip of his sword hovered a mere hairbreadth away from my throat, and I froze. Disappointment and fear left a bitter taste in my mouth.

  “You win,” I said, my voice breathless, my eyes on his blade.

  He lowered his sword, but my frustration remained high. If I were to face one of the Triumvirs of Madainsair, how long would I last? I hated the feeling of helplessness, the realization that I might lose after just a handful of blows. Unlike Ramiel, they wouldn’t hesitate to plunge their swords into my throat.

  “You did very well.” He inclined his head, and a ghost of a smile touched his lips. “Far better than I expected.”

  I shrugged. “Losing is losing.”

  He handed me a ruby-encrusted scabbard for the sword, and I sheathed it. The dragons who had been watching us were holding their breath. Even the wyverns had landed on the tips of the hold’s turrets. It was actually somewhat amusing. It wouldn’t have bothered me if they’d wanted to cheer for their victorious lord. Okay, it would have bothered me. But just a little, and only because I’d really wanted to win.

  “I’m not going to last very long against one of them,” I said.

  “Your senses are still dull. Unusually sharp for a mortal, but not enough to face one of us. However, that will change once you begin to acquire your heartstones.”

  It wouldn’t have done any good to point out that I did rather well against incubi. They weren’t in the same class as dragonlords. I took a deep breath. “When are we leaving for the Mystic Forest?”

  “Tomorrow afternoon.” He looked up at the sky. The moon sat low and was exceptionally pale, as if mourning its departure from the heavens. “It’s early yet. The only way to the Mystic Forest is via the Lunar Garden.” Ramiel didn’t look happy at the prospect. “The Mystic Forest will not open until it receives more lunar energy than it can use. At that point, the portal will open, should Nahemah decide to use it.”

  So at last I was learning something. Nahemah was the Dragonlady of the Lunar Garden, so it looked like we were going to have to go beg a favor. Not a pleasing prospect when dealing with a supernatural, but at least it was action. I nodded. “I’ll go look in on Valerie then.” I began to walk away, the sword still in my hand.

  I hadn’t taken more than a couple of steps when his soft voice stopped me.

  “Ashera.”

  I looked at him over a shoulder. “Yeah?”

  “You shouldn’t see her until she is well again. Her poison is highly contagious.”

  Damn. I’d forgotten about that. If I got poisoned too, who would save her?

  “Everything’s going to be all right,” Ramiel said. Standing with his feet planted wide, all broad shoulders and cool green eyes, his sword held easily in one hand, he seemed to be the very embodiment of strength and confidence.

  But somehow I couldn’t help but think he was trying to reassure himself more than me.

  Ten

  The next afternoon, Ramiel and I went to the amphitere platform. The sky was cerulean satin with a disk of gold. The clouds looked so soft and close, I felt as if I could reach out and pluck them like dandelions.

  Velvet coverlets with the Besade crest were draped over two amphiteres. The wind shook my ponytail and cut through my silk blouse and pants. But I wasn’t cold. Anticipation pumped adrenaline through my body, making me oblivious to minor discomfort. Finally I was going to meet the last slayer, supposedly my mother, and get the antidote for Valerie. My palms went slick as I touched the sword Ramiel had given me the night before. It hung from my back and seemed to grow heavier with each passing second. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was nervous. What if Leh only wanted to use me to avenge her people against the dragonlords? Did I want to become the instrument of her retribution?

  I mean, the whole thing was over and done with before I was born. It was none of my business. And there was that other thing about her past as Nathanael’s singer. I still couldn’t decide what to make
of that.

  At the same time, I could understand where she was coming from if she wanted revenge. Look how long I’d been trying to avenge Miguel. Did it make me a hypocrite if I didn’t want to get involved in the drama?

  A long red cloak settled lightly over my shoulders. My hands closed automatically over the fleece-soft fabric.

  “It will be cold.”

  Ramiel fastened the cloak for me, his fingers hot where they grazed my skin. My heart picked up a beat, but I remained still. The clasp was a beautiful gold brooch that had three drakes coiled around a pearl. They blinked up at me and, apparently satisfied, returned to sleep.

  When he was done he laid the fingers of one hand gently on my cheek, then let them trail down in a featherlight caress.

  “Thanks,” I said, my voice scratchy. I cleared my throat.

  He also wore a cloak. It was moon white and its hem swirled around his ankles. He stepped back and gestured at the pale blue amphitere on the right. “She’s fairly gentle and will give you a smooth flight.”

  The dragon glanced at me with slitted golden eyes and bared her teeth. They were sharp and serrated like a shark’s. Maybe she was as gentle as a shark too.

  I took a small step away from the amphitere. “Why aren’t we teleporting?”

  A small smile. “Would you prefer to?”

  “About as much as I want to get punched in the stomach. But it’s quick, and we don’t have much time.”

  “The Lunar Garden is not that far, the amphiteres need their exercise, and you need to learn how to ride.”

  “I see.” But I didn’t, really. “Why aren’t you riding your amphitere?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  I was stalling, but I didn’t want to get on the “gentle” dragon. “You know, the one you rode before? On I-66?”

  “Ah. It isn’t good to ride the same creature too often. That one is resting now.” Ramiel cocked his head. “Do you intend to mount?”

  “Of course.”

  “It may prove difficult from that distance.”

  “I didn’t want to get in the way.”

  His eyes crinkled slightly. “Of course. Show your mastery and she will obey you.” He crooked his finger. “Come.”

  Right. I didn’t even know how to ride a horse. What was I doing trying to ride a fricking dragon?

  I had no idea what mastery Ramiel was talking about, but after thinking about it a moment, I realized it made no sense for me to be afraid of the thing. After all, I now knew how to use draco perditio, and there was no way that blue beast could block it. I walked closer, mentally prepping the first elements of the spell. Power filled my mouth and nose, made my fingertips tingle. I reached out toward the amphitere’s head. She jerked back, her eyes wide and rolling.

  “Obey me,” I said, in standard dragon dialect.

  She stretched out her neck in submission. I sighed with relief and let the power subside. It left me feeling a little drained, but had been worth it to show the dragon who was boss.

  Ramiel gave me another amused look but didn’t say anything except, “Pay attention.” He went to his silver amphitere and grabbed the leash. “Take it like so.” He showed me how to wrap it around my hand. “You’re right-handed, so you should hold it with your left. Never let your sword arm get tied up.”

  I did as he demonstrated. The leather rein felt solid and tight in my hand. Right, somehow.

  “Now, hop onto the back using the lowered wing as your step,” he said and jumped lightly onto the wing of his mount and then onto its back.

  That was trickier. The wing scales were smooth and provided no traction. I slipped ignominiously a couple of times and finally managed to climb on, hugging the amphitere’s back with all four limbs.

  “Unless you intend to make love to the animal,” Ramiel said, “I suggest you stand.”

  My face warmed at the thought of making love, and I scrambled quickly to a standing position.

  “Yes, like that. Place your feet about shoulder-width apart.” He demonstrated, then waited until I did as he instructed. “Now dig your toes in under the large scales of either side of the spine, wherever is most comfortable.”

  I ran my feet over the dragon’s back, found good spots and wedged my feet in. They provided an additional sense of security, if this whole dragon-riding thing could be called safe in the first place.

  “Use them to control your amphitere,” Ramiel said. “Gentle pressure with your left or right foot. She’s quite intelligent and well trained, so she usually knows what to do.”

  I nodded.

  “Very well. Let us go.”

  With a cry, Ramiel pulled on his leash and his amphitere rose into the air with a colossal flapping of wings. Mine followed, her body pressing up under my feet like an enormously powerful elevator. Despite Ramiel’s advice, I immediately grabbed the rein with both hands, sword arm be damned.

  The flight was like half water skiing and half horseback riding. It might’ve been more fun if I enjoyed either activity. The cloak provided much-needed protection against the wind at this altitude. Through the soles of my shoes, I could feel the amphitere’s muscles contracting regularly to push us upward. Standing up made me feel unstable, especially with those muscles rippling under me like rolling waves. But I couldn’t imagine sitting down either. Amphiteres are too big to straddle unless you want to remain in a near-horizontal split for hours. Not my idea of a comfortable ride.

  Our mounts flew confidently, quietly, born to be in the air. Unlike the wyverns, their wings made very little noise. Ramiel was right about mine being sweet-natured. She was content to glide gently over the air currents, and I eventually was able to relax and use just one hand on the rein. The muscle movement became as soothing as small waves in a cove. There was a gentle rhythm I found comforting. Ramiel’s dragon was the showy one, molding its body to the wind and having way too much fun. I would’ve fallen off it. Or else puked all over its back.

  I glanced around, slightly nervous that the Triumvirate of Madainsair might send someone to attack me. As unschooled as I was in flying, there wouldn’t be much I could do to defend myself.

  We flew over moist clouds that hinted at early summer showers. The clean crisp air stung my unprotected nose and hands. The temperature here was low, below freezing even in summer. But whatever the cloak covered wasn’t cold. Thank god for small favors.

  Once I got the hang of the flying, other things started popping up in my mind. Ramiel and I were alone, and we didn’t have to worry about prying eyes or some spying Wind of Nathanael’s. Which meant I had some private time to interrogate Ramiel about Leh, Nahemah and so on.

  But every time I turned to ask a question, his amphitere pulled away to engage in another complex acrobatic trick. None of the others I’d seen had been this busy showing off.

  I began to smell a large blond rat and gritted my teeth against the rising irritation. Probably there was nothing left to discuss as far as he was concerned. After all, I was a mortal, he was the cool demigod, and he was doing me a big favor by keeping me alive. Never mind that I was doing him a favor by going along with this harebrained scheme to save Valerie so that he could keep his mysterious vow…which of course I didn’t need to know about because he was the one doing the keeping.

  After what seemed like hours, Ramiel’s amphitere folded its wings and plunged toward the ground. Mine dove as well. Neither bothered to glide, and I instantly resumed my two-handed death grip on my rein. If this was what skydiving felt like, I was never trying it.

  Gravity dragged us down, and with each passing second we fell faster. The wind whipped my entire body so hard my teeth rattled. My eyes teared up; my face and hands started to hurt, then went numb.

  Dense forests expanded rapidly underneath us. Neither of the amphiteres seemed concerned about stopping our freefall. The trees below zoomed into individual view.

  Suddenly, my balance shifted, and I almost fell. Our amphiteres had turned parallel to the ground and were nav
igating along the treetops. Ramiel’s ride’s cry pierced the still air. He sounded proud of his acrobatic skills. My amphitere’s belly skimmed the leaves, leaving them rustling in our wake. Startled birds burst from the branches, wings beating furiously. Ramiel maneuvered his amphitere close to mine.

  “Before we arrive at the Lunar Garden, I…don’t ever forget Nahemah’s loyalty is to herself,” he said. “If the rumors are true, she wishes to bed Semangelaf.”

  “The guy who turns stuff around him frosty.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why? She might as well mount a stalagmite.”

  Ramiel gave me a look. “It is of no moment to her. He has always ignored her, and thus it becomes a challenge and she desires him all the more.”

  Great. “Are they working together to get me?”

  “I don’t know. But were I her, I would approach him and make an offer—your head for his bed.”

  “And the probability of him accepting is—?”

  “High.”

  Well, that stood to reason. If I were a frigid male demigod who was being maneuvered into bedding the Goddess of Kinky Sex in order to obtain one enemy mortal’s head, I probably wouldn’t kick too much. “She’s still our only way into the Mystic Forest, right?”

  “Unfortunately. But it’s not her style to attack overtly. She games to amuse herself, so if you can play your part right, you may come out ahead.”

  I grimaced. Diplomacy and whatnot weren’t my strong points. What did I know about Nahemah other than what Ramiel had just revealed? Nothing except what I’d read in the ancient texts. They said little about the demigoddess except for her lust for power, mortal slavery and degenerate sex. She liked it really kinky—even with animals.

  Very little to go on when I faced her.

  “Do you know anything that might help me make a deal with her?” I asked.

  “Do not agree to her first offer. Nor to her second. The more innocent the offer seems, the warier you should be.” He looked over. “She never makes a losing bargain.”

  Lovely.

  The amphiteres navigated into the now starry night, into which the moon had recently made its appearance. We didn’t have much time. I had no idea how long it would take to negotiate with Nahemah.