curved, razorlike claws. Meren hurled himself into another roll. The ax missed his head and bit into the floorboards. He tumbled over the floor and hit the balustrade. The thing followed, reaching him as he jumped to his feet.
His back to a support post, Meren straightened in time to dodge a slash from those claws. He turned his head to get a look at his attacker's other arm, only to spring backward to avoid another cutting swipe. His foot caught on the pavilion steps. He flew over the stairs to land on his back. His head hit a buried rock.
Meren cried out, but forced his eyes open. He shouldn't have, for the face of a crocodile filled his vision. The reversed end of the ax hurtled at him at the same time that bronze claws clamped onto his arm and began to incise his flesh.
Chapter 14
Eater of Souls hesitated, confused by the rapid movements of her quarry. This one was harder to kill than the others. First the foreigners had intruded, forcing her to wait until they were gone. Then the wait had brought back the pleasures of the Hall of Judgment. There the unjust quivered before her, and she found that anticipating the satisfaction of appetite rivaled the pleasure itself. This creature was the font of the favored one's pain. Killing it would bring more pleasure, more relief from the emptiness, than any of the others.
She should have resisted the urge to savor the moment before the kill. She'd tasted it too long, and the evil one had awakened. The mortal hadn't been asleep at all. It was clever, and it moved with scorpion speed. Scorpions could be caught, though.
Eater of Souls launched herself after it as the mortal fell out of the pavilion. She raised the reversed ax over her flat, mud-green head as she clamped an arm. As had happened countless times, her victim was caught between pain and horror at the sight of the Devouress, frightened into stillness. In that motionless instant, she tasted the grandeur, the beauty and power, embodied in this transgressor. Destroy this mortal, and all that it had gathered to itself would flow to the favored one.
Eater of Souls felt a demon howl build in her gut. It rumbled up her throat as she brought the ax down-on bare earth. The evil one had twisted like a crocodile suffocating its prey, wrenching from her grasp. Eater of Souls lashed out with blood-painted claws and missed yet again. She bellowed her fury at being robbed of the kill.
The blow had to be delivered, or the evil one would get to its feet. The bronze ax head soared back and up, high over her mane, as she uttered the bellow that always turned her victims' legs to marsh mud. At the same time, a terrible noise assaulted her. High, piercing, like the shriek of a thousand burning cats, the sound stabbed into her head.
Eater of Souls spun around on a grunt and drew her head down between her shoulders. There, near the reflection pool, stood the daughter who had brought wine. The girl's mouth formed a black cave of noise. The screams rose several notes and drove hot spikes of agony behind her eyes. Eater of Souls tried to ignore the pain. She turned back to her victim, but the evil one had vanished.
No, there it was, at the pavilion. And it had a dagger. Eater of Souls cringed under a renewed barrage of shrieks and snarled at the daughter as the girl threw a volley of rocks. At the same time, Eater of Souls heard men shouting.
More mortals approached. The Devouress launched herself at the evil one, claws spread, ax blade biting the air. At the last moment, as the victim braced for her attack, she swerved and hurtled past it into the grove of trees. Leaving the mortals stunned, the Devouress clawed her way up a tree and leaped over the garden wall. On the other side she darted quickly into the shadows and pounded through the streets, rage building with each stride.
The evil one had escaped; no one escaped Eater of Souls. She had failed the favored one. Now the emptiness would be renewed, increased by humiliation and time. Pausing, the Devouress lifted her snout and waved it through the air. She caught the scent of the transgressor, still fresh. She could smell its fear, but mixed with it was rage and a hint of cold reason.
Eater of Souls did not inspire anger; inspiring anger meant that the angry one felt equal. None equaled the Devouress. For this reason as much as for the favored one, she would hunt down this quarry and destroy it. And she must do it quickly, before word spread among the living that an evil one had survived Eater of Souls.
He was desperate to protect Bener. Meren raced after the creature that had attacked him in darkness, not thinking of the folly of pursuing it into the black shadows of the trees. Streams of sweat emptied into his eyes, blurring his sight and stinging his eyes. He dashed an arm across his face as he nearly ran into a palm. What stopped him was a rock.
It soared past his head and smacked into the palm tree. He whirled around, shouting. 'Bener, get back!'
Of course, she didn't listen. While shouts of charioteers filled the garden, she charged through the trees and landed beside him, with a fistful of stones, ready to hurl another. Meren hardly glanced at her. His lungs worked; his body tensed in readiness while his heart emptied of all but the need to protect Bener and to hunt down and kill the creature. He searched the grove, strained to hear the slightest grunt or scrape of metal claws. Above them, the limbs of an acacia rasped and squeaked. Bener started, and her movement caused Meren to grab her arm and begin backing out of the grove.
They hadn't gone far before they were surrounded by charioteers. He gave them a brief description of what had happened and sent them after the intruder. He wanted to go with them, but he was afraid to leave Bener. She wasn't crying or frantic, but her body trembled, and she had a dazed look. His men left, but dozens of servants crowded around them.
He gave answers and reassurances he didn't feel, but the chatter and the demands rose anew, fed by darkness and fear. The voices grew louder and louder until he could hear nothing else. Something stung his forearm. He glanced down to see four red slices in his flesh. He turned his arm over and found another, deeper cut. Five, five cuts. He tried to concentrate on them, on Bener, but the wails and entreaties of the servants resounded inside his head, battered his skull.
'Be silent!'
His roar cut through the din and shut even the most importunate of mouths. 'Everyone out. Not you, Bener.' When they were alone, he asked, 'Are you hurt?'
'No, Father.'
She said nothing more, and he knew better than to press her. Leading her to the reflection pool, he knelt and stuck his arm in the water.
She sat beside him. 'Was that…? Who was- what…?' Bener caught her lower lip between her teeth.
'That, my dear, foolish daughter, was Eater of Souls.'
'It was the Devouress.'
'It was what people are calling Eater of Souls.'
Meren scooped water into his hand and allowed it to trickle over the cuts on his arm.
'A demon,' Bener repeated in a harsh voice. Her fists were clenched, and they pressed into her stomach.
'Perhaps.' Meren looked up to find her staring at him. 'Perhaps it was a demon.'
'What else could it be?'
'I don't know.'
'How could you not know?' Bener's voice rose and carried over the water. 'It attacked you! I saw the-the head, the long snout. Even in the dark I saw the claws. I thought I was going to perish of terror.'
Meren rounded on her. 'But you didn't. You threw rocks.'
'It was going to kill you!'
'Next time run for help,' he snapped.
Half closing her eyes, Bener said carefully, 'If I'd run for help, you might have been killed.' She glanced at the cuts on his arm.
'I'd rather risk death than see you in danger.'
'But, Father, I feel the same way.'
Startled, Meren was about to retort when Bener's courageous air vanished and she burst into tears. She
