Then the woman’s eyes fell upon Adonis. The queen seemed to realise his intent as he started towards her, but to her credit, she did not try to flee. Rather, she squared her shoulders and took her greatsword in a two-handed grip. Adonis smiled at her courage, but it mattered not. This night would see her end. No human could stand against a Tangata of the third generation.
Crying his rage, Adonis charged, closing the gap with his foe in an instant. Her sword came up, reacting with the speed she had demonstrated with the others, but Adonis was confident in his strength, and his arm swept out to slam against the flat of her blade to turn it aside…
…except the blow felt as though Adonis had struck something hard and unyielding, as though the greatsword were fixed in some vice rather than held by a mere human. For the merest of seconds, he felt bewilderment, confusion—then the point of the sword slammed into his shoulder, tearing through flesh and bringing his charge to a sudden halt.
A cry burst from his lips at the impact and stunned, Adonis twisted, tearing the sword from his flesh. His cry turned to a growl as he regained his balance, swinging again at the human woman. She raised her blade, face hidden by her helmet, but Adonis saw her mirth in the ripples of the woman’s aura.
A frown touched his lips. How had she held the sword against his blow? How could she move so quickly, keeping pace with even his own supernatural speed?
Baring his teeth, Adonis reached a hand to his shoulder, feeling the hot blood gushing from the wound. His right arm had lost some of its strength, but it should still be enough to defeat a human, even one dressed in steel.
Snarling, he clenched his fists and attacked again. This time the queen dropped into one of the strange stances practiced by the humans, sword extended, iron fist held across her chest. Adonis ignored the blade this time, trusting his speed to evade her next blow. All he needed was to land a strike, one with the force to crush her bones, to tear her flesh, and it would all be over.
But as he came at her again, far from awaiting his attack, the queen leapt forward to meet him. For half a moment, Adonis was left frozen. This human dared to attack him? Only the hiss of approaching steel snapped him from his stupor, and gasping, Adonis hurled himself aside…
…and again found himself too slow. Pain erupted from his side as the greatsword slammed against his ribs. Fortunately his retreat took most of the impetus from the blow, but even so, he felt something go crack as he staggered back.
Gasping, he stared at the woman, hot blood running from his side as well as his shoulder now. For the first time that night, fear touched him. This should not be possible. A human could not stand against him, not unless…
…his eyes widened as a suspicion touched him, and without thinking, he reached out with his mind.
What are you?
Laughter rattled from within behind the iron visor, lifting above the screams of the dying. Reaching up, the queen tore the helmet from her head, revealing great eyes of emerald and flaming red hair.
“I am the saviour of humanity,” she shouted into the night.
A roar came from nearby as one of Adonis’s brethren, caught in the grips of the Tangatan rage, crushed his foe’s skull—then caught sight of the queen standing nearby. Before anyone could react, he charged at her.
The queen didn’t bother with the sword this time. Instead, she lifted her empty hand, and only now did Adonis notice how it rippled, how it was different from the rest of her armour. A burning light lit the night, and his brother fell to the ground, writhing against the wooden boards.
“I am the death of gods,” the queen continued, even as Adonis’s brother died in agony.
Adonis shook his head, staring at the human in disbelief. She was human, that he sensed, smelt, but…somehow she had Heard him, had matched him blow for blow, had injured him.
Abruptly, the queen raised her sword and shouted into the night. Too late, Adonis realised his danger as she charged. His brethren were engaged with the last of the humans, leaving him to stand alone against the queen, against whatever creature she was, and the human magic she wielded.
Watching her charge, Adonis realised his death was upon him. Even so, he clenched his fists and readied himself for battle, though its end seemed already written in the night sky.
A sharp crack came from above, then a shadow fell from the above, black-feathered wings flashing out to slam against the queen’s blade, finally tearing it from her impossibly strong grasp. Adonis barely had time to recognise Nyriah before the Anahera launched herself at the queen, fist and boot and wings lashing out, driving the woman back, leaving her no opening to use the magic of the gauntlet.
The queen roared as she matched the Anahera’s blows, revealing a strength beyond anything Adonis knew to be possible for a human, for even a Tangata. His heart hammered hard in his chest as he watched the two battle amidst the flickering lanternlight. This queen could not be human nor even a descendant of his people. She was too powerful, her strength too pure for that.
No, this creature had come from the Anahera themselves.
But the false gods they had their limits, and as the last human soldier fell, Adonis’s brethren formed up around him. This was their
