Tear Down Heaven: Urban Fantasy Action with Witches and Demons, page 18
Bex looked at her sword in shock and nearly lost a leg when the Prince of Fear shot out of the alley behind her to take advantage of the lapse.
“Demonkind?” she repeated as she whirled out of the way. “You mean I can armor my skin like a war demon or change my shape like Lys?”
Something like that, Drox muttered in a frustrated voice. Like I said, your new abilities are very hard to read. I was only made to be Wrath’s sword, not all these other demons’. I don’t know what to do with their—
“I do,” Bex said, stepping back into an attack position. “Let’s give it a try.”
Give what a try?
Bex couldn’t explain. It was more of a realization than a technique, like suddenly remembering you had toes. They were easy not to think about if she wasn’t actively using them, but as soon as Drox had pointed them out, Bex was suddenly aware of a whole new landscape very similar to her fire. Things she simply was now, not things she used.
It’d felt so natural she hadn’t even noticed, but when Bex reached out for them, the new powers reached back like they’d always been a part of her, flooding her perception with sensations she’d never felt before but that still felt like extensions of her own body. Literally her own body, because the very first one Bex tried covered her skin in fear-demon scales that looked just like the prince’s. The only difference was that Bex’s scales were black instead of Gilgamesh’s unholy white. As black as the blood that boiled in her veins when she stopped defending and covered her sword in flames to slice through the buildings where she’d last seen her enemy.
The strike was nowhere near as powerful as the one she’d used to knock down Gilgamesh’s tower, but Heaven’s over-embellished white mansions were much less sturdy than the palace of its king. One swing was all it took to reduce them to rubble, flushing out the scaled prince, who suddenly looked much less sure of himself.
“You really are a monster, aren’t you?” he said, flipping his curved blade over in his hands.
“You should take a look in the mirror,” Bex suggested, gripping her own sword.
It was impossible to tell behind his white scales, but Bex swore the prince smiled at that.
“Gilgamesh originally earned his fame as a hero by slaying monsters, you know,” he said as he braced his clawed feet. “They were also creations of the gods, tools designed to spread fear so mortals would panic and pray for salvation. My father is the one who freed humanity from such abuses. He’s spent his entire life protecting mortals from things like you. Now I shall follow in his footsteps by ending the Queen of the Hells for good.”
Bex rolled her eyes behind her new protective scales. She was still trying to process just how far Gilgamesh had misled his son when the Prince of Fear leaped into the air. He kicked off the rubble of the broken building behind him and launched at her from an unexpected angle that forced Bex to roll out of the way before she got skewered.
“Gotta give you credit,” she said when she made it back up to her feet. “You’re one of the fastest princes I’ve ever fought. Pretty impressive when you consider how much armor you’re wearing, but your speed and scales won’t save you from this.”
She lashed out with her flames, covering the wrecked street in a raging inferno fueled by her wrath at this idiot who was attacking her when Gilgamesh was the monster who needed to be stopped. As always, her flames didn’t touch Adrian’s plants, but they turned all the luxury goods packed inside the Heavenly mansions into kindling. It was the sort of satisfying power move she’d wanted to pull from the start, but even Bex had a hard time getting a bonfire going in a rainstorm. Out here in the clear, though, nothing was holding her back, so Bex let her fire roar, covering the entire block in a sea of red-hot flames.
“Not so easy to hide in a burning city, is it?” she yelled as she watched the prince jump from house to house ahead of the destruction. “Why are you running, monster hunter? I thought you were going to slay—”
Her taunt turned into a gasp when she felt the prince’s white sword cut through her flames like a spear. She’d thought she was looking straight at him, but the Prince of Fear was suddenly behind her. If Bex hadn’t been covered in scales of her own now, his blade would’ve torn straight through her back, but she was more than just her people’s wrath now. She was also their fear, a wall against anything that would hurt them, and that wall held firm. Firmer than the prince expected, because he stumbled when his sword slid off her just like Drox had been sliding off his scales all morning, giving Bex the opening she’d been waiting for.
“You want to be like your father?” she yelled, letting go of Drox so she could whip around and grab the prince by his neck. “Then look upon what he has wrought! Let me show you what your king defends, and then we’ll see if you want to keep being his loyal servant.”
The prince was taller than she was, so Bex couldn’t lift him off his feet like she wanted, but that didn’t matter. Her new scaled fingers still dug into his neck like daggers, but she didn’t rip his head off like her anger was urging her to. She ripped into herself instead, reaching out with Sorrow’s power this time as she opened the floodgates and poured five thousand years’ worth of suffering straight into the prince’s brain.
He screamed as it swallowed him. Bex screamed as well, but she didn’t let go. She didn’t want to kill a prince who thought he was dying a hero. She wanted him to understand, wanted him to feel what her people had suffered at his father’s “heroic” hands. The only cure for lies was the truth, so Bex poured it straight down his throat, holding him with one hand while she reached out to her people with the other.
She had to drop her guard to do it, but that didn’t matter anymore. The prince was no longer capable of fighting back as Bex reached through the connection she’d forged with every demon who’d given her her name. They were no longer actively praying to her for salvation, but they were all still there, and they answered when Bex called, offering her their sorrow just as readily as they’d offered their wrath.
The result was a wave of tragedy strong enough to wash all of Heaven under. If Bex had been the one being hit, she would’ve sunk even deeper than she’d fallen when the actual Blade of Sorrow hit her on the chain. Fortunately, she was just the conduit this time, but that was still enough to bring tears to her eyes as she poured her people’s sorrow—their suffering, their grief, their loneliness and pain, their lost loved ones, everything Gilgamesh had stolen—into the prince.
They were both on the ground by the time she finished, but Bex was the only one who stood back up. When she finally unclenched her scaled hand from his throat, the Prince of Fear was sobbing in the fetal position. He showed no reaction when she poked him and did not respond when she called his name. Bex was wondering if it was possible for someone to die of grief when a man suddenly stepped up beside her.
“Now you see my princess’s suffering.”
Bex jumped. She’d assumed the newcomer was Adrian, but Prince Leander was the one standing next to her when she turned her head.
“War wasn’t the only one who hated the duty Ishtar sentenced her to,” he told her quietly. “Mara despised it as well. Who wouldn’t loathe being forced to consume the entire world’s sorrow? She only did it because her demons would’ve had to consume the poison by themselves if she’d abstained, and as you can see from my brother, no one should have to suffer that alone.”
“If you want me to apologize, it’s not happening,” Bex said, pulling back her new scales so Leander could see her face. “He knew what Gilgamesh was doing in the Hells and still supported him. He should feel the pain that he ignored.”
“I wasn’t asking for mercy,” Leander promised as he glared at his sobbing brother. “Fear was my father’s loyal dog. Unlike me, he served most eagerly. That’s why he was entrusted with the job of guarding the final gate, but…”
He trailed off with a sigh, and Bex looked over just in time to see his gaunt face grow stricken.
“I hate all my fellow princes,” he explained at last. “But Mara hated her powers even more. He’s sinking in the sea of her sorrow, of all your sorrows.” Leander’s thin hands squeezed into fists. “Mara never wanted anyone else to feel that way. So please, for her sake, would you put him out of his misery?”
Bex sighed. When Leander put it that way, it did sound monstrous. She hated Gilgamesh with everything she was, but she’d never enjoyed been cruel.
Compassion is a queen’s prerogative, Drox agreed. And you can’t get your sister’s hand back while her prince is trapped in a sorrow-induced coma.
“Fair enough,” Bex said, trying not to let her relief show on her face as she reached down to press her hand against the prince’s scaled forehead.
She felt her people’s sorrow the moment she made contact. It was like dipping her fingers into an ocean of suffering, but even though Gilgamesh’s loyal prince was the one drowning in it, Bex still hated that all of that pain had come from her demons. The whole reason she was doing this was to free them from such suffering, so Bex did the only queenly duty she’d always been good at.
She burned it.
It took more effort than she was used to. Unlike rage, the tears of sorrow were wet and cold. They didn’t burn easily, but Bex had always been a bonfire. Her new name didn’t change that, and eventually, everything was consumed. The prince, the sorrow, the suffering, the pain—she ignited them all, transforming the Prince of Fear into a pyre that rose to the sky. She burned until even the ashes were consumed, and when she pulled her flames back at last, the only thing left on the ground was a woman’s severed hand curled into a terrified fist.
“It’s okay,” Bex whispered as she reached down. “I’ve got you. You don’t have to be afraid any—”
A blast of noise knocked her off her feet. It was so loud that Bex didn’t even recognize the sound as a bell until she saw Gilgamesh’s fingers reaching through the air to grab her sister’s hand just like he’d done in Adrian’s clearing. Bex surged back to her feet with a roar, but even with all her new powers, she was still too slow. Gilgamesh grabbed the Queen of Fear’s hand and vanished before she could reach him, leaving her diving at nothing.
“You thief!” she screamed, bellowing up at the golden palace that still towered above them. “I’ll burn your whole kingdom to ash!”
“I wonder why he did that,” Leander said in a much calmer voice. “Does he still need the queens’ hands for something, or did he just not want you to have it?”
“Either way, he’s dead,” Bex snarled, brushing the ash off her tattered clothes.
As always since she’d learned to control it, her fire hadn’t touched anything she wasn’t furious at, but the fight had still taken a toll on her outfit. Everything was technically still in one piece, but her leggings were sporting some unfashionable new holes, and her beloved black bomber jacket definitely looked worse for wear. That was her fault for wearing it into battle, but the damage on top of Gilgamesh’s thievery still had Bex seething as she reached up and mashed the button on her comm.
“Iggs,” she barked, “is the fight at the plaza finished yet?”
“Yeah,” came the tired reply. “It was rough. The front hall was packed to the rafters with sorcerers, but we pushed them all back with minimal casualties on our side. I’m guessing you took out the prince?”
“Like trash,” Bex said, zipping up what was left of her tattered coat. “Leander and I are headed your direction. Don’t go any deeper in until we get there.”
“We won’t,” Iggs promised. “We need a breather after that fight anyway. I thought we’d have bigger numbers for the main assault, but half our army still hasn’t made it up the damn road. If the witches hadn’t rolled in with their death storm, we’d all be goners.”
“Good thing we’ve got reliable allies, then,” Bex said, smiling at the swarms of witches she could see flying around on their brooms now that the thunderstorm was breaking apart. “It’s like I said back in Adrian’s clearing. Gilgamesh made enemies of the entire world, and he’s paying the price.”
“You reap what you sow,” Iggs agreed, his voice oddly tight. “I’m afraid I have to pass out now. See you when I wake up?”
“I’ll be there,” Bex promised, calling Drox back to her finger as she ran into the still-flooded plaza, leaving Leander trailing far less urgently in her wake.
CHAPTER 11
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THE FRONT OF GILGAMESH’S palace was swarming with witches by the time Bex arrived. They were everywhere: using their brooms to sweep the rainwater dumped by the storm into buckets, picking up bones dropped by the undead dragons, helping the vines that grew everywhere get better traction on the palace’s smooth white stone. Several were tending to demons who’d been wounded during the assault while others were up on the battlements, sorting through the scrap left by the lightning-struck constructs. A whole team was up on the roof between the towers, taking apart the giant lion cannons with blowtorches, while their cat familiars watched from a safe distance like a line of furry vultures.
It seriously looked like the witches were scrapping Gilgamesh’s army for the gold, which Bex found both hilarious and practical. As she’d seen from the Pumpkin Festival, there wasn’t much money to be made off a forest, and pillage was the victor’s right. Gilgamesh had certainly helped himself when he’d invaded Paradise. Bex found it delightfully appropriate that he should suffer the same, especially since her demons were also helping themselves.
They should be focusing on what comes next, Drox muttered, turning nervously on her hand. We haven’t won yet.
“Oh, let them have it,” Bex scolded, smiling at the demons who were gleefully prying the gold decorations off the palace doors. “They deserve a little joy.”
The sight certainly made her smile. They’d been fighting a losing battle for so long that even something as small as stealing Gilgamesh’s porch décor felt like a life-changing victory. The forces from the Seattle Anchor were still arriving, which meant most of the demons who’d participated in this fight had come from the Hells. They’d lived and died in toxic darkness, scraping sins out of filthy water, while the warlocks who commanded them lived in luxury. If anyone deserved a little looting, it was them.
“Great Queen.”
Bex tore her eyes away from the pillaging just in time to see the war-demon leader Roga kneel at her feet.
“We’ve taken control of the plaza and the entry halls,” he reported as he lowered his helmet of broad, flat horns. “The Queen of Pride and General Iggs await you inside.”
Bex arched an eyebrow. She wasn’t sure when Iggs had become a general, but she wasn’t about to undermine him in front of the war demon. He’d certainly been doing the job, which was good enough for her.
“Thank you, Captain Roga,” she said, looking over her shoulder at the river of demons that was still marching toward the palace from the giant tree. “I want you to hold this position and organize the new arrivals. We’ll use this opportunity to rebuild our forces while I go find our next target.”
“Yes, Great Queen,” the war demon said, then he flicked his dark eyes up. “Um, about the looting. Should we—”
“It’s fine,” she assured him as her face split into a grin. “This city was built on our people’s backs. Way I see it, they’re just taking back what’s owed.”
The war demon looked extremely relieved to hear that, probably because it meant he wouldn’t have to tell a bunch of delighted demons they had to stop.
“Just keep order and don’t let any fights break out,” she said. “I’m going to talk to our allies.”
The captain ducked his horns again and turned around, yelling to his troop of war demons that the queen had given her permission. This caused a huge cheer as the war demons ran off to join the others in stripping Gilgamesh’s palace. Bex watched them go with a grin as she crossed the still-wet plaza to the white steps of the palace’s main door, where the three Old Wives of the Blackwood were waiting with their brooms.
The moment Bex’s boot touched the first stair, all three witches turned to look at her like their heads were attached to the same string. That would’ve been spooky if Bex hadn’t already heard them finishing each other’s sentences during the big curse earlier and pretty much every other time they did something important. She’d already secretly started thinking of them as three faces of the same lady anyway, so this was par for the course. Bex was much more concerned to see that Adrian wasn’t waiting with them.
“Where is—”
“Inside,” the Witch of the Future said before Bex could finish.
“He’s the only one of us who can go in,” the Witch of the Present explained. “It seems Gilgamesh has banned all daughters of the Blackwood from entering his palace.”
“Wisest move he’s made in years,” the Witch of the Past agreed, pushing her stringy white hair away from her face as she stared up at the towers. “Pity. There’s a lot of good bones in there.”
She finished with a hungry smile, and Bex caught her flinch just in time.
“Thank you for your help earlier,” she said, bowing her horns as much as she dared with so many demons watching. “We couldn’t have taken the plaza without you.”
“I’m glad we were able to put our ancient spite to good use,” Agatha said, glancing through the open doorway. “Especially since it doesn’t look like we’ll be able to be of further assistance.”
“If we could storm the palace ourselves, we wouldn’t have needed Adrian or the queen,” Muriel reminded her sisters. “There’ve been some variations, but all the main parts are still going according to plan.” She turned back around to Bex before lowering her head just as slightly as Bex had dipped her horns. “This means the future of our coven is now in your hands. We wish you good luck, Queen of All Demons.”
