“I thought the Wraith kings forced them all back into the void and sealed the gate.” The idea that they'd failed made her stomach knot itself into a ball of nausea.
Serovek kicked a spray of slimy water onto the galla, slinging even more as the thing recoiled out of reach. “So did I.”
Anhuset seized his arm. “Enough. You keep doing that, and we'll be standing in a dry fountain with no protection.” She let go of the margrave and kept an eye on the galla who'd retreated but didn't flee. So began a waiting game, and all the odds lay in the demon's favor.
She'd saved herself and Serovek from being devoured for now, but he was far from appreciative. The thunderhead of a scowl descended on his features. His dark eyebrows lowered, and for the first time since she'd met him, he bent the full weight of his disapproval on her in a withering stare.
“Never do such a thing again,” he said, practically baring his teeth at her. “If not for that foolish stunt, you'd be through the gate and safe among the canals right now.”
“And you'd be a bloody stain on those fine clothes you're wearing,” she snapped back. “I don't need a hero to save me,” she continued in a milder voice. “Though what you did was heroic and brave. And stupid.”
“Sha-Anhuset.” He said her name in such a way that Anhuset forgot about the galla for a moment, startled into silence by what she saw. “You misunderstand me. One of us has to survive this little trip to warn Brishen there's at least one galla frolicking about Haradis. Between the two of us, I'm probably stronger, and I know you're faster. Strength isn't what would save us from that thing.” He waved his knife toward the galla, and it lunged at him, snapping four sets of newly formed teeth.
“Your eyes,” she said softly.” He blinked at her, confused by her comment. “They glow like your vuhana's once did. Like they did when you dreamed in the inn's stables and said you saw Megiddo.”
His demeanor changed, posture stilling, and his face took on a far-away look as if he contemplated some inner question with countless answers. “But I'm awake, and Megiddo isn't close by.” A hard shudder shook him. “There are still galla in Haradis. Maybe there is still eidolon in the five of us. Perhaps enough to bind us all together.”
An awful possibility to contemplate, but it made sense. “You don't know that for sure, and even if it were so, you aren't eidolon enough to resist a galla attack. We have to figure out a way to get to the gate before any of your men coming looking for us.” An ugly thought reared its head, and she buried her claws into the back of Serovek's thick tunic, holding tight. “Don't do it,” she warned.
A growl erupted from her throat at the false innocence in his expression. “Do what?”
“Leave the fountain and run toward the city's heart to draw the galla away. If you think I'll leave you so that thing can feed on you, think again. Run, and I'll simply chase after you, and my death will be on your hands.”
Pure extortion with a slathering of guilt, and she wielded it with unapologetic glee.
It was his turn to growl. “If you were my second, I'd remove you from command.”
“If I were your second, we wouldn't even be having this conversation.”
He gusted out a frustrated sigh and raked his free hand through his hair. “Then we're at a stalemate. Any suggestions?”
She was out of ideas at the moment. The fountain's sanctuary was a stroke of luck. She'd caught the glimmer of moonlight reflecting on a liquid surface as they'd raced for the gate and prayed to every god paying attention that the reflection floated on life-saving water. For now, they were relatively safe, but the galla had all eternity to wait them out.
Serovek jerked in her grasp. Afraid he'd ignored her warning and planned to bolt, she tightened her grip on his tunic and prepared to knock his feet out from under him if necessary. Instead, he pointed in the direction of the derelict palace. “Look.”
A crackling streak of light arrowed toward them, pulsing in colors of cerulean, scarlet and viridian. Anhuset automatically bent her knees and raised her knife in a defensive stance, even knowing that steel likely wouldn't work on this newest threat.
The galla, a gibbering, cackling chimera of gruesome and constant transformation halted its contortions, emitted a mad scream, and shot away from the fountain. The luminescent quarrel hurtled after the demon, piercing the center of poisonous darkness. The galla screamed again, a raging cry for help as it convulsed in the grip of an expanding brightness that blinded Anhuset completely. She closed her eyes and turned her head. A flash erupted across her eyelids and silence fell.
Anhuset dared a squint. The world remained a flare of outlines without details, only imprints of brightness. She felt Serovek close beside her. He asked a question, a single word, a single name.
“Megiddo?”
She strained to see, cursing under her breath at the struggle. Another voice broke the silence, a far echo where the distance between life and death was the span of a breath and the measure of eternity. A voice familiar, but also strange.
“Run.”
She was lifted off her feet, set down on dry ground just as abruptly and yanked forward so hard, she thought Serovek might tear her arm off as he launched them both into a dead run. “I can't see!” she cried out, trying not to stumble.
“Keep running! I won't let you fall.”
He was true to his word, guiding her along clear paths as they sprinted through Haradis. She only stumbled once, and he caught her, hand on her waist to keep her upright, never slowing in their dash to safety. Her vision slowly recovered from the flash-fire brightness that blinded her, and by the time they splashed into the first canal, Anhuset could make out the true shapes and colors of her surroundings.
They stood knee-deep in freezing water, Haradis a gutted carcass behind them. She prayed she might never revisit it and suspected Brishen prayed for the same thing in the privacy of his thoughts or in the arms of his devoted hercegesé.
Serovek pressed his hand to her shoulder, coaxing her to face him. His eyes no longer held the ethereal glow, though she found them just as disconcerting with their movements as he scanned her features. “Stop that,” she said.
He blinked. “Stop what?”
“Moving your eyes so much. I keep waiting for them to jump out of their sockets and run off.”
He burst out laughing, and the hand holding her shoulder squeezed in an affectionate grip before he let her go. “Seems your sight is returned without issue.”
“It is.” She offered up a faint smile, enjoying the sight of his amusement and the fact she was the one who'd amused him. “You're almost not ugly when you laugh, margrave.”
He snorted, shaking his head. “Only you can wrap a compliment inside an insult and present it as a gift with all sincerity.” He bowed. “I thank you, madam. Stay with me a little longer, and soon you'll find me breathtaking.”
She sniffed. “The Kai don't live that long.”
More laughter, and this time she joined him, a delayed euphoria singing through her that had little to do with their ridiculous banter and everything to do with the fact they'd survived an encounter with the galla. No small thanks to an arrow of ethereal lightning and a one-word warning from a heretic Wraith king trapped in a world of demons.