Chapter 13

~~Darian~~

Discovering that the red-eyed guards on the bridge were actually undead was an unwelcome surprise. He should have guessed it; not the first time he’d fought Andromeda’s summoned skeletons.

Skeletons shouldn’t have been able to scream, though. They didn’t have any flesh or throat or muscle. They shouldn’t have been able to do anything but lay on the ground, like dead should. But his eyes and sword told him differently as his blade hacked through bone, bone, and more bone. Their arms fell, their heads, sometimes their legs, but every fight was a dance with death in a way he wasn’t used to. Cut the arm off a living, breathing thing, and they went down. Stab them in the gut, and they died a slow, miserable death, and they’d be of little use for the rest of the battle. Get them in the neck and they died instantly.

The skeletons didn’t care if you cut off their head. If you managed to get through the waist of the breastplate and into the stomach, again they did not care. If you cut off their arm, they reached for a weapon with their other arm and kept coming. One mistake and he’d get a spear in the face, and making a mistake would be easy with the skeletons ignoring all the rules.

Worse was their screams. Their mouths opened, their eyes flashed red, and a raspy sound filled his ears, like a wailing wind mixed with scraping rock against rock. And they screamed from their bodies. The heads were lifeless once removed, and their glowing red eyes faded quickly, but the headless corpses still screamed the odd sound, and stabbed at them with brutal tenacity. Like Otrera had noticed earlier, the guards were dumb, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t keep stabbing and stabbing until they were in bits.

He’d rather have fought the manticore, but Chimera’s surprise attack had dealt with them.

Pegasus rode up the hillside, wing ruined, Perseus on his back. Darian winced and looked back at Medusa. She looked destroyed. It had to be done, and Pegasus would understand, but he didn’t have time to explain that to her. He only had time to keep hacking away and keep moving forward. Don’t stop, don’t let the enemy adapt to the insanity of their strategy; it was its only true value, the absurdity of walking up to the sorceress’s front door.

He slammed his shield out and buried the huge disc of black in the chest of one of the guards. The skeletons were armored, with shields and spears of their own, and killing them was becoming less of a battle, and more of an exercise in endurance. But they were just skeletons, light, and as he started to crash his shield into them with all his strength behind the swing, the results became explosive. Bones shattered, limbs fell away, and the undead started to crumble under the force.

But just as he was getting into a new rhythm, he looked up at the sound of someone’s voice.

“You will all suffer for this. And Otrera. You betray me? After all I’ve done for you?”

He found a moment to get his breath. What few skeletons remained were either in front of him, and being stomped into powder by Chimera, or behind him. The mob was doing good work, swarming over the remains of the guards, and attacking the few the three of them had missed.

Darian struggled to get his lungs working again. Sweat started to bead on his forehead, and his muscles in his arms started to ache. Only a little, only enough to tell him he was going to get tired soon. Bad time for the sorceress to appear.

Otrera raised her voice. “You deceived me! Tricked me! These people do not deserve to die!”

Darian frowned and glanced back at the mob. A swarm was too accurate a word. Locusts. He couldn’t entirely agree with Otrera.

Lightning struck, close enough to blind him for a moment, and loud enough to shake the very ground he stood upon. He gasped hard, and caught himself holding his breath as the thunder worked outward. He knew the feel of lightning, the sound of thunder. Knew them too well.

“You bring a swarm of insects to my door, and hope to do battle? So be it.” Andromeda slammed her staff down from on high, and unleashed havoc.

Red eyes started to join the white sorceress. More. And more. More until Darian was left blinking, eyebrows raised, and looking around to see if the other skeletons were indeed destroyed. They were.

But the wailing wind cry of a thousand undead filled the air, and stopped everyone. Chimera finished with the last of the guards before him, reached up to his chest to pluck a spear from his flesh, and stared at the oncoming cloud of red dots. Otrera’s raised sword slowly fell to her side. The mob behind him all came to a standstill as Medusa slithered up to stand near Darian.

The eyes of the undead flowed over the mountainside road, but did not follow it. Like water, they poured over the mountain and down toward them, stopping on the mountain road only long enough to run across its width and then back down upon the nearly flat cliff face.

As they came into view, lit by stars and torchlight, more people began to gasp, and step back. The eyes of the undead running down the mountainside, ignoring the road, were literally running down the cliff wall. Their arms were held high, and the glint of metal caught the moon from each hand. These undead had no armor, sported no spears or shields, but swords and axes instead, and their mouths were open as they screamed their death wail upon them.

Otrera bashed her sword and shield together. “Flanking positions! Darian, Medusa, up the road. Chimera says you can fight, Medusa, prove it. Start shooting, and when it’s time for melee, transform.”

Medusa slithered up between them. “B-b-bu—”

“No buts! Shut up, get over here. Chimera, here next to me, away from the cliff side. They’re not shields and spears, they’re swords, axes, and a lot of them. You’ll get hacked to pieces if you take them head on.”

Chimera obeyed. Not a moment of hesitation or even a glance the queen’s way to check if she knew what she was doing. Giant had a lot of faith in the Amazon.

“And you!” Otrera pointed to the mob that had slowly come to a stop behind them. “Form ranks! Shields at the front! Xiphos swords second row, Kopis swords third row.”

A new thunder joined them from the small warrior woman. Otrera cut through the noise, the panic, the growing cries of the mob, and shut them up hard. Darian took a step back from her, eyes wide, as the queen pointed her sword to the crowd and then where she wanted the line formed on the center of the bridge.

They looked to each other, to Patrius, Tritus, to Hieremias, but Otrera took a step toward them, and frowned.

“Now!” Thunder once again.

And the people listened. No longer a riot, or a mob. Now they were an army. They pushed past each other, did their best to get into the positions given them, and prepared themselves. They knew each other at least, and working together was something many had done before, Darian could see. They got shoulder to shoulder at the shields, swords up and ready.

How could such a tiny woman make such a loud noise?

Otrera bashed her sword and shield together again, and turned to face the oncoming tide.

“First row! You will defend the man next to you with your shield, and you will aim for the legs of the undead in front of you. Stay low, shield up. Second row! You will hack through the arms of the undead that break against the shields. The enemy will fall forward and onto the first row, so be ready. Third row! You will deal with any and all breaks in the defenses.” And again, she bashed her sword and shield together. “We will weather this storm!”

The swarm had become the defending wall, and the enemy had become the oncoming swarm. Not part of the plan, not at all, and Darian gulped as he looked between the mob and the wave of undead running at them. Enough red dots, it looked like a river of red was streaming down the mountain.

But Darian’s heart settled as he watched the mob fall into formation, and their wide eyes harden, along with growing — if nervous — smiles. Damn that woman could lead.

The four of them turned to face the wave, and prepared themselves. A loud snap of a string forced Darian to look Medusa’s way, and he smiled as the gorgon unleashed one of the large arrows onto the waves. And another, and another. She shot fast, and pulled the arrow deep each time, deeper than any human could. And each time, the arrow crashed against the rocks above them with a visible crack of light. The unusual, large tips of each arrow must have been tearing through the rock and creating sparks. Skeletons started to shatter. Wherever Medusa’s arrows managed to hit one, the undead ceased to exist as the arrow ripped it apart.

But there were hundreds of them, and while each shattered skeleton brought a cheer from the crowd, it did little to stem the tide.

And when the tide finally came to join them, it was a sea of bone. Swords and axes running fast and wild as the skeletons landed upon the bottom of the mountain road, and ran toward the bridge the four monsters blocked off. Wails of unnatural death reached a new height.

But once the blades were within reach, and Darian was forced to engage, that was when things got easier. He turned off his brain, turned off the thinking and the worrying and the dreading, and embraced what he did best. The glow of his eyes returned, Otrera’s as well, and the two of them stepped in toward the river of the dead. The wave came at them, crashed into them, and the two Fate’s Children each put a large dent into the tide as they lashed out with shields first. The ring of ax and sword against his black shield was music in his ears. The shatter of bones against it his melody, a sound he’d never heard before this battle, and adopted as his new song. His feet kept him grounded, his sword sliced through undead with ease, and his armor blocked the reign of white shards.

Too many. Soon he could no longer see past the wave to the other side, to Otrera. Chimera was tall enough he could see him, but to get to him would have been crossing death. The undead were everywhere. He stepped back and back, with the occasional veering of a skeleton or two from the swarm pushing him away from the bridge, and further up onto the mountain road.

Medusa stayed behind him, unleashing her volley of arrows. From so close, it must have been easy for her to hit her targets, and the arrows were able to tear through multiple skeletons in a single shot. Bones were everywhere, and they fell around his feet as his sword cut through rib cages, spines, arms and wrists. White splinters washed over the ground like water, and he continued to step back and further up the mountain, Medusa still behind him.

He managed to peek toward the bridge he was being pushed away from, and grit his teeth. The wave of bone met the humans like a ravenous flood, and the layers of white crashed into their shields.

But their lines did not break. Yet. The mob held strong, and did exactly as Otrera told them. The front line got low, down to a knee, shield up to guard their heads and chests while they sliced for the legs of the skeletons. The undead crashed upon them, hacking down but unable to break their shields, and the men and women behind the front lines cut and hacked at the undead that came up and over the barrier.

But the undead were endless. So many red eyes, they outnumbered the torches until their eerie glow was enough to match the light of the fire. The whole bridge and mountainside looked alive with red fireflies until they came closer, and the obsidian magic that hid their corpses was peeled away. They smashed against the mob’s shields again, and again, until they cut through the center and started to pour over the people.

Screams of agony joined the choir.

“No!” Medusa started to shoot faster, but the two of them continued to get pushed up the cliff road. Further, and further, until the winding turn of its rising length cut around the mountain and blocked their eyes. They couldn’t see the battle anymore, but they couldn’t push forward with dozens of the mindless abominations in front of them either, swinging their weapons with reckless abandon.

The gorgon shrieked her frustration, and threw down her bow. Her body erupted. Snake hair shot out and exploded in size, her body grew longer, thicker, and her fingernails turned into massive claws. Her face distorted, elongated, and her beautiful snake eyes shifted to the sides of her head as her human skin was replaced with large snake scales. The monster emerged, and unleashed itself on the crowd of bone.

Darian thought Chimera was brutal. Medusa, now transformed, threw herself into combat with total disregard for her own safety. He called out, but in the madness and crescendo of noise, his voice might as well have been a whisper. And for a moment, he almost threw himself into the swarm to try and reach her, grab her and pull her out, but there was no way he’d be able to get her out of there.

And she didn’t need his help. The monstrous snake reached out and tore the skeletons apart like parchment. Their swords cut into her scales, but she kept moving, swiped her colossal tail, and destroyed half a dozen of the undead, shattered. Her snake hair struck out in pairs, and pulled apart the limbs of the enemy. Her blood joined the rain of white shards along the road, and as she spun around with another shriek of rage, Darian jumped back yet again, further up onto the hill to avoid her tail as much as the undead. Mistake. He got pushed further from his love as he blocked yet another skeleton’s swords, and bashed them aside.

“Bellerophontes!”

With a gulp, Darian peeked behind him. Perseus smiled at him, returned with his huge, golden shield, and sword pointed. Such beautiful golden armor, Darian was almost jealous; and the thought sickened him.

“You,” Perseus said, and he pointed to the skeletons still swarming up the hill to reach Darian. “Turn your attention to the gorgon and giant. Kill them at all cost.”

The skeletons turned around and ran back down the hill. Medusa would soon have the undead on both sides of her, hacking into her with sword and ax, spilling her blood. Darian swallowed the the acid in his throat, and forced himself to stare at Perseus. If he turned his back to him, he’d lose his head.

“You’re a real piece of work,” Darian said, and he stepped up the mountain road closer to Perseus. “Destroying lives for the sake of your fame.”

“You’re one to talk. Everyone knows of you, Bellerophontes. But perhaps they shouldn’t. Slayer of Chimera, except not. Slayer of an Amazon queen, except not.” Perseus laughed, brushed his blond hair with his sword hand, and posed for Darian with a foot forward and sword pointed high. “A fame built on lies!”

“Take it from a man who’s lived and breathed fame, Perseus. It’ll destroy you, one day at a time.” He came closer, grip tightening around his sword grip until it hurt. He was going to cut this worthless man into tiny pieces; see him heal from that.

“It is in your power as a Fate’s Child to challenge the gods as you did! And with Andromeda’s help, we can be free of our chains!” Perseus came closer as well, and as he did, he slashed out with his right hand against cliff next to him. “You were a fool for defying Olympus so openly, brashly. But you know as well as I the gods, the Fates, they need to be removed.” The blade, a mirror of Darian’s except for its golden grip, scraped along the rock with an ear-splitting rake.

“Get to the top yourself someday,” Darian said. “Let it get to your head, blind you, and you’ll think you can fly.” That sword was dangerous. They both wore Fate-gifted armor, Perseus’s likely from Andromeda, and it was strong enough to stop a sword. But if the sword met flesh, it was going to cut deep, if not cut a limb off entirely.

“We can fly! Pegasus is ours. Mine! He should have been mine, he was supposed to have been mine!”

And Perseus was upon him. The man jumped high, starting from his position higher up the rising road, and he came crashing down with his shield. Darian had to roll to the side, to the bastard’s shield side. With his shield down, Darian took a chance and sliced out for Perseus’s shield arm as he rolled by, but Perseus rolled in the opposite direction of him, and his shield came up to the side as a giant wall, massive, golden.

The two men got up and faced each other again. The road was wide enough for them to circle the other, and in Perseus’s case, flourish his weapon several times.

“What do you mean supposed to have been yours?” Darian said.

Perseus laughed and stepped in closer. “Andromeda knows much, fool. You have no idea what has changed from what was planned. Medusa should be dead at my hand, Pegasus mine, and my name known throughout Greece!”

The psychopath jumped in again, but landed on his knee and foot this time, sword coming down in a chop. Darian raised his shield at an angle to force the sword to come down to his side, and when he slashed toward the exposed arm, Perseus slashed upward to catch it. The blades clashed, and the ring of metal on metal echoed into the scream-filled air.

“Andromeda can change fate,” Perseus said. “That is why we are here! That is why we fight upon this cliff, you and I. Oh, and such a glorious duel it is!”

Their battle took them higher. Darian tried to inch it back down the road, to his companions, but Perseus was larger than him, stronger, with a much bigger shield. Any time Darian tried to take advantage and get a cut or stab in when the man exposed a limb, Perseus countered with a speed and accuracy that could have only come from training, from years of practice above Darian’s own.

Darian managed a quick peek over the edge of the road. The two of them were on the other side of the sea cliff now, and the drop to the water below was high enough to risk death. The ocean stretched out over the horizon, and a hint of sunrise wisped upon its edge. He didn’t really care if Rhea died, but Medusa did. And that was reason enough to care.

“Medusa was to die at my hand, and Pegasus was to be mine. He and I, we were to rescue Andromeda from the sea creature. She and I were to rule!” Laughing loud enough to carry over the battle below, Perseus stepped in and stabbed forward as he slammed his closer foot into the ground. Darian blocked it and sent the attack to the side, but Perseus capitalized, and rushed in with his larger shield. Shield to shield, larger man against the smaller, Darian fell and rolled backward onto his feet. “We gave up that destiny.”

“I hear she plans to kill the Fates,” Darian said. “I don’t entirely disagree with that plan, but enslaving a city, sacrificing people to fuel rituals?”

“You would sacrifice them too if they were destined to tie you to a rock and sacrifice you, Bellerophontes. Imagine your own family, your own people, your own mother and father, chaining you and leaving you for the sea creature.”

Darian gulped again. He remembered the sea creature that destroyed the prison ship, quite vividly.

“If you had left Pegasus out of this, I would have let you and Andromeda continue your plan, Perseus. Even after you tried to kill me, I would have let it happen.”

The beautiful man stopped, lowered his sword, and blinked. “ ... all this for a horse?”

“He is no horse! A horse cannot draw pictures in the sand. A horse cannot play games with you. A horse cannot shield you from the rain with its wing! A horse cannot ... a horse cannot be your best friend. A horse cannot hit you when you are being rude to others, or congratulate you when you are kind to others. A horse cannot share in your vision to see the top of Olympus, to challenge the gods and their rule!”

The white of his eyes grew with his rage, until the road about the two of them shone with its glow. How dare this man, how dare this psychopath, this idiot fool, this stupid fucking piece of shit, cast Pegasus aside like dirt.

“Where is he!?” Darian came at him again, faster this time. Perseus took a step back and raised his shield, and Darian crashed upon it with his own. Instead of letting the weight difference send him to the floor, Darian drove his weight into his feet and into the air. Up and to the side, he slashed out at Perseus, and again the man took a step back as he brought a sword up to deflect. “Where is Pegasus!”

“You are the ones who shot him!”

“Better that than let a murdering psychopath leave with him, a slave to him!” Again, faster. Darian ducked lower, sliced up, and again Perseus took a step back, but Darian didn’t let him. He got in close, shoulder in, and spun out his shield hand to crash it against the bigger man’s breastplate, toppling him. “Where is he? Where is he!?”

Perseus got down, far down, further than Darian expected. Before he knew it, a giant gold shield was underneath him and launching him into the air, flipping him several times before he landed twenty feet away on his stomach. Chest crushed and back bent, the wind burst from his lungs and refused to come back. He raised his head, focused through the pain and blurry vision, and rolled to the side as Perseus stabbed his sword down and into the rock of the mountain next to him.

“Your beloved horse — bleeding profusely I might add — is in the acropolis with Andromeda.” Perseus stomped after him, his eyes glowing to match Darian’s. “Defeat me, Bellerophontes, if you can. Pegasus is mine. And soon, so will be Medusa’s head.”

~~Chimera~~

It was like swimming in bone. There was no blood to these enemies, nothing for him to sink his teeth into, nothing to tear and bite and rip apart. There was little satisfaction in smashing bones to powder.

But when swords started to cut into him, atop the spear wounds that were still healing, pain was a marvelous stimulator. He had no shield to defend himself; perhaps he’d look into getting one made for him when this was done. The humans would owe him one, and a shield made for his strength and size would be a grand thing indeed.

As the skeletons swarmed him, the idea made him smile. But their sword bites drew his attention back to the pain, to the immediate, to the sight of his own blood dripping onto the mountain road before the bridge. The great bridge was behind him, and the undead swarmed over it to crash against the mob’s phalanx. The phalanx was holding though, and that too made him smile. Queen of the Amazons was a true marvel.

Otrera was close to him, out of range of his sweeps, but close enough he could still see her as he destroyed the bones around him. And destroy he did. They were just bones, and without the protection of muscle, skin, sinew, and blood, bones shattered. He dove through them, leaned in to tear them apart with his arms and claws. When their swords raised to stab at his face, he stood up, and kicked out in horizontal swipes. What few managed to not shatter, or ducked, he stepped onto and ground their bodies into powder.

Some of the undead dropped their swords from the impact, and in the chaos, they scampered up his body. Without weapons, they could do little damage, but they clawed and bit with their weak fingers and teeth, enough to hurt. He roared and reached up to grab them, but they hid in between his shoulder blades, and he spun around to try and dislodge them. But he was no fool, he had a job to do: kill everything. He did not let the undead upon him distract him for long before he got to all fours, and dove into the mess of bone and swords.

Otrera was doing fine, though she was drifting back onto the bridge, and stood upon it at the gate where it connected to the sea cliff. Sword and shield up at all times, the Amazon cut any undead who approached her into pieces. Some were smart enough to block with their swords, but the Fate’s Child was strong enough to send them down to their knees where a sword cut through the spine, behind the chest, and shattered their core.

The mob phalanx broke. Shields fell to the sides, and the sea of bone poured between the broken dam. Moments later, an inhuman shriek joined the mess. The gorgon joined them.

“Medusa!?” Otrera stood in the middle of the bridge gate, cutting nearby skeletons as they ran past her. “Where’s Darian!?”

Medusa did not respond. She was transformed, her mane of pythons high in the air, like striking vipers. What few of the crowd managed to get a glimpse were stunned before their attention was forced back to the undead at their feet. But that changed when Medusa threw herself upon the bridge onto where the skeletons clashed against the humans.

Massive tail and body swiped through the undead, and knocked a dozen of them back and over. Many fell off the bridge, many fell apart, some shattered completely. And what ones did not shatter were torn apart by the serpent’s massive claws. She struck out, fast, faster than Chimera knew the colossal creature capable of, and slashed. Claws cut through bones, and her python hair struck out to grab and rip and tear.

Before long, the waves of undead crashing into the mob stopped, if only for a moment, and the phalanx reformed. The unending sea of bones and swords were too busy with the giant serpent to keep attacking the phalanx. They cut and slashed and pierced her scales, and she bled, but did not falter. Her monstrous shrieks broke through the noise, and her snake body crushed yet more of the tide.

“Enough.” Andromeda’s voice rolled down the mountain and into their ears. A sorceress’s trick, no doubt. “If you must all die, then you die. I will find a new city to sacrifice.”

Chimera blinked up at the white robes far above. She did not lack for confidence, and her voice of ice froze the air around them. Staff raised, arms up, she slammed the staff grip down upon the stone once more.

Everything started to shake. Chimera knew the feel of earthquakes, of Gaia’s voice and life, but this was not it. The skeletons faltered, the phalanx faltered, and Otrera and he struggled to remain standing as the ground fought against them. Only Medusa and her serpent body were left standing as the vibrations of the ground, the bridge, and the very air grew until Chimera could feel it in his bones.

And the water started to move.

Near the edge of the mountain road, Chimera looked out over to the water below, and gasped. It rose as would a mountain from the ocean floor. Blackness cut through the blue, lit by the sparkling stars and the falling torches, and rose higher until it pierced waves and dark depths. A mass he could not understand, only a stone’s throw away, started to reach up from the sea near the cliff, and latch onto the rock with a tendril as large as the entirety of the mountain road.

“Do not stop fighting! Get up!” Otrera managed to get back to her feet, but even with both sandals planted to the wood of the bridge, she couldn’t hold her balance. Everything was shaking, the waters churned with rancor, and a low moan Chimera could not hope to match started to grow louder over the panicked cries of the civilians.

And louder. Loud enough Chimera raised his hands to try and block it out, but the deep groan of the sea vibrated through the air until he could feel his organs tremble in his gut. He stumbled around, leaned against the mountain, and stared out over the sea where the rising peak of dark continued to surge upward. It rose higher than the bridge, and then twice that, and higher again until what trickle of sunrise had been teasing the horizon was lost behind its mass. Water poured from its surface, and crashed against the sea with thunderous applause.

As the mountain of black rose higher, the air grew wet, and harsh. The clear skies started to howl, and low clouds formed from nothing. They pooled around the monstrosity’s rising head, covered its titan eyes and teeth in a haze of mist, and dripped rain over the sky.

A hand — a limb of some sort rose from the water, and it too sent the sea cascading over its body as it broke through the water’s surface. It crashed into the mountain, and what rumbling there had been before became a roaring earthquake that ripped everyone off their feet again. Even Medusa tumbled and fell against the wood of the mighty bridge.

Then it bellowed. A powerful stink of death and decay poured over them as it roared against them, and everyone covered their ears as the sound sunk into their bones and teeth. Another of its tentacles climbed from the sea depths and onto the mountain of the bay, each limb a slow-moving mass, as if they were watching the sea itself strike out. Heavy, slow, inexorable, and merciless. Barnacles spotted the deep blue skin of the tentacle as it wrapped around the cliff, and its main body soon stood as tall as the very mountain the acropolis sat upon.

Cetus, still alive after thousands of years. Not once had Chimera ever seen the creature, only stories. And the stories paralyzed him, as the creature did now.

It roared, and the air broke apart. Again another of its limbs broke through the sea surface, and up into the air, high above them, each claw upon its fingered hand as big as Chimera himself. There would be no fighting this monster.

And yet, as the hand came down toward the bridge Otrera and Medusa fought upon, Chimera ran forward. Movement almost stopped, the air heavy and thick, the rampant panic slowed down until it was all a gentle dance. Everything seemed frozen in time as Cetus’s great limb fell toward the bridge.