As if in answer, the chorus of women spoke again. 'Hail, oh beloved Blasphet!'
CHAPTER NINETEEN:
BRAIN-DAMAGED FREAK WITH A VIOLENT STREAK
Beat one: Anza inhaled deeply as she pushed all distractions from her mind. The ice in her bones, the weakness of her legs, and the pain of the burn mark on her breast were blocked out as she twirled the twin steel tomahawks around her fingers.
Beat two: Her eyes narrowed, turning the world into a tunnel. At the end of that tunnel was Blasphet's throat. His trachea slid beneath the smooth onyx scales of his neck. His jugular vein, thick as a man's thumb, would run directly beside this.
Beat three: Anza danced forward, swinging both tomahawks around in a graceful arc. Using the full momentum of her body, she released the left tomahawk, holding the right in reserve in case she needed a second shot. She wouldn't. The small, finely balanced hatchet spun almost lazily through the air in her hyper-aware state. The axe edge hit Blasphet's hide and sank into it.
His serpentine neck jerked as blood gushed from the wound.
Anza knew she'd just killed Blasphet. Unfortunately, it might take the giant beast a moment before he'd lost enough blood to realize it.
She stood before him, blinking off her tunnel vision, cataloging the gauntlet of potential dangers around her. The Sisters of the Serpent were numerous, but none were armed, and they looked stunned by Anza's action.
Behind Blasphet, there was a sky-dragon who glowered at her. This dragon, too, was unarmed but that didn't mean he wasn't a threat. The dragon spread its wings, revealing diamond studs within the folds of skin there. As he moved, silvery dust fell from his fore-talons. Anza blinked. In the span of that blink, the sky-dragon vanished.
She'd spared as much time as she could surveying the room. She was ready to make her retreat, once she dodged Blasphet's counter attack. She focused on the Murder God, anticipating that his huge jaws would be shooting toward her any second.
Instead, Blasphet reared up, his head nearly brushing the high rafters of the barn. He didn't look angry or frightened. Instead, he gazed at her with eyes filled with pity. His fore-talon moved to his throat and pulled the tomahawk free, letting it drop. Splashes of red dappled the canvas he stood upon.
Whatever the cause of the delay, Anza decided to exploit it. She spun, bolting for the door. She didn't make it even a yard before Colobi jumped on her back. She hit the ground hard as Colobi fell on top of her. The white-robed woman straddled Anza's hips, pinning her.
'Defiler!' Colobi shrieked as she closed her hands around Anza's windpipe. 'This is how you repay our kindness?' She squeezed with all her might.
The battle gears in Anza's mind clicked forward a notch. Colobi's choking attack was a reasonable one for unarmed combat. Under the present battle conditions, however, it possessed a rather serious flaw. Anza swung her remaining tomahawk, driving the blade several inches into Colobi's forehead. The young woman's eyes rolled upward until only white showed, and she fell.
Anza pushed the corpse aside, freeing her tomahawk with a slurp. She rolled to her hands and knees and looked up.
If not for her ordeal in the river, she might have stood a chance. The remaining Sisters of the Serpent fell upon her like a wave. Anza swung her hatchet, but it was too late. A trio of women caught her arm, pressing it down, tearing the tomahawk loose. Another woman wrapped her arms around Anza's waist and pushed her once more to the ground. A dozen hands grabbed her legs. More hands grasped her right arm, pinning that limb to the straw- covered floor.
Anza arched her back, wriggling, trying to kick free, but for every hand she knocked loose, four more seized her. In seconds she was pinned, immobile, spread-eagle on the ground as the dark form of Blasphet loomed above her.
Blasphet had his fore-talon pressed against his throat. When he pulled his gore-wet claws away, blood no longer squirted from the wound. The blood on his claws and neck faded, absorbed into his dark hide. The wound was no longer visible.
The black beast stared at Anza, his brow furrowed.
He ran his claws along his chest. The scales of his breast were malformed, no doubt due to the poisons that ran within his blood. The scales were bunched up, looking more like fat ticks than the smooth overlapping plates of a serpent. He plucked one of the scale polyps free and handed it to the woman who sat on Anza's chest.
'Feed this to her,' he said.
Anza clenched her jaws. One sister pinched her nose shut. Another clawed at Anza's lips, sinking her nails into the gums beneath. Anza fought the pressure until she trembled, but it was of no use. Slowly, her jaws were pried open. One of her own knives was placed between her teeth to keep them from closing. A woman's fingers flickered against her tongue, pushing the seed-like scale toward the back of her throat.
A jug carried by one of the women was held over her head. A stream of water poured into her open mouth. Suddenly the knife was pulled free and her jaws were forced shut. She closed her eyes, fighting to the urge to breathe. Against her will, Anza swallowed.
The women released her mouth. When she opened her eyes, Blasphet no longer loomed above her. The black dragon leaned over Colobi's fallen form, ignoring Anza for the moment.
'Ah, my faithful one,' he said, his voice mournful as he lifted her limp body. 'You've known nothing but violence all your life.' He brushed the bloody hair away from her forehead. He placed his scaly talon over her face. 'I know you acted out of love, but there's no need for fighting.'
He pulled his talon away. Colobi's forehead was intact; there was no sign of the tomahawk wound, not even a scar. Colobi's eyes opened, glistening with tears. She whispered, 'I've defiled your holy presence with my anger. I'm not deserving of your mercy.'
'You're wrong, my child,' said Blasphet. The skin around his eyes creased. Dragons couldn't smile, but his eyes signaled affection. 'All are worthy of wholeness and mercy. You understand what you did wrong; you won't transgress again. You've paid for your sins. When I picked you up, you had no heartbeat. The woman who acted in anger is dead. You are a reborn creature now, free from the sins of your past.'
Blasphet set Colobi down. She stood on unsteady legs; tears ran down her cheeks. Driven by emotions that Anza couldn't fathom, Colobi spun and ran from the barn, weeping.
Blasphet turned toward Anza. His great, long face, bigger than a horse's head, snaked down toward her. He exhaled as he studied her. His breath was pleasant, smelling of mint. It was nothing like the carrion breath of most dragons.
He took a long, deep breath inches from her face. A fine silver dust rose from Anza's flesh. It reminded her of the residue that had been left behind by Jandra's bracelet.
Blasphet's eyes stayed focused upon her as she searched his face for any possible weak points. If she could get her hands free, she still possessed a chance. The silver halo that hung above Blasphet's scalp reflected candlelight, meaning it was solid. It was plain, and didn't look strong, but it did have a small triangle near the front that rose up into a decorative peak. A sun-dragon's ears were large, flat disks on the side of their head, almost like the surface of a drum. If she could grab the circlet, then drive the point into Blasphet's ear, the pain would immobilize him. Then, if she could reach her throwing knives…
Blasphet observed, 'You're calculating how best to kill me. This is one reason I hold such affection for mankind. The best of you cling to hope long after a more rational being would succumb to despair. Tell me my child, what is your name?'
Anza glared at him.
'There is no need to fear me. I will not harm you.'
Anza stared silently as Blasphet cocked his head, waiting for her answer. In the candlelight, she saw more of
