Tangles and Temptation (33 page)

Her feet reached the brink before she had formed a solution. The sound, now deafening, beckoned to her. She latched onto the narrow outer walls at the mouth of the cave and peered over the ledge. She saw nothing but emptiness. Frowning, she turned her eyes upwards. Surely the stars and moon would reflect off the water. But above her was equal looming darkness. No tiny twinkling stars winked at her, no bright, glorious moon shone on her. There was just blackness. And all the time the hush from below called to her.

The rhythm was mesmerizing, hypnotic. She found herself edging forward without intention. She stared down into the inky blackness. Her ears echoed with the enticing call. She was powerless to resist. She closed her eyes and surrendered. She toppled over the edge.

* * * *

Eris sensed the presence before he saw or heard it. His body clenched. His breaths became short, swallow. He sniffed the air, openly receptive to all the scents of his plantation. The unwanted odor assailed his nostrils and made him want to gag. He turned quickly in that direction. His feet stepped lightly, hardly disturbing the swaying wheat surrounding him. Without the aid of moonlight, he had to rely on his sense of smell. Hearing was close to impossible. The roar around him, the constant, endless swishing of the crops, was thunderous as they swayed in the raging winds.

He stared ahead as he proceeded. This was indeed a night in which evil lurked and roamed. The air, the surrounding darkness, seemed to rejoice and revel menacingly. The stars and moon had taken refuge in other parts. This place lay crowded with menace, death. He stopped. His hand caught the spear just as it flew out of the darkness. The breeze from the motion of the weapon continued and caressed his cheek. “You choose cowardly ways of battle. Where is the honor of attacking a man’s back?” Eris hissed as he held steadfastly onto the sharp spear blade. The tender flesh at his palm stung as he gripped it unrelentingly.

Without relieving the pressure of the attacking blade, Thyone spat out, “There is no honor in death. It chooses not heroism over cowardice. Death is simply death. And it will have its way as it pleases, as my lord decrees.”

Eris smirked as he pushed the weapon away. “You would feel such, as you have forfeited life for death already. Now take your due as you deserve and prepare for your descent to the darkened bowels of Hades.”

Eris’s senses prickled. Thyone was moving, producing a possible second weapon. The hushed sound of metal sliding against leather sheathing caught his straining senses before Thyone laughed without humor. “Not this night, Erpo, the snake. Can you not feel the power of this night? Evil travels free and at will. Tonight all light shall be smothered, and good shall be dealt a crushing blow. Tonight the true lord of this realm shall reign victorious.”

The sickle was within Eris’s hand as quick as a flash. He swung the weapon leisurely, taunting the enemy before him. He struck fast and heard the satisfying rip of cloth. He mocked, “It would seem the demon is yet again proud without cause. You are surprisingly slow for one whose hand is guided by the dark arts, for one who anticipates victory. Fortunately I shall not dither as you do, and your death shall be delivered swiftly. I waste not my energies on mere minions.”

The insult spurred the enemy into action. Eris ducked low as the spear swept above him. His sickle arm darted out quickly. The sound that greeted his ears, flesh been ripped apart and the scent that assailed his senses, fleshly spilt blood, fueled his lust for battle. The snake upon his chest hissed and snapped for the ultimate satisfaction—
death.
Eris smiled cunningly. “Your words are as weak as your actions, meek and without substance.” He leaned forward and hissed, “Where is your wagging tongue now? You sold your soul to the devil for the benefits in life. What wondrous boon would he now bestow upon you in death?”

The air shifted erratically as Thyone staggered. Eris detected the stench of hot, fresh blood. Low, probably from an injury on Thyone’s thigh. He growled. “The true rewards come only after life, in death. I die for the cause of the great Cronus, and he shall elevate my status.”

Eris laughed. “And what has happened to death being just death? Come then, let me speed your journey to your illustrious reward.”

The shift in the air came again. This time marking an emptiness in the space he had predicted to be Thyone’s position. A short distance away, Eris detected a faint disturbance in the air, only for that also to become suddenly still. Eris growled impatiently. “Do not seek to cloak yourself in false illusions and the trickery of black magic. They only aid in prolonging the evitable. Your blood shall feed the soil this night.”

He felt the whisper against his neck, the cold stroke of death’s gnarled hand. He stood still. The snake upon his chest reared its head slowly. The tongue flicked forward, testing the air, tasting it. Thyone could not go concealed for long. The beast smelled his flowing blood, and it would sniff him out. Eris’s nostrils flared as he allowed the beast’s superior senses to prevail. It did not disappoint.

In one swift move, Eris swung his sickle. Its motion stopped only when it found its mark. Above them a storm was gathering. A brief flash of lightning gave Eris a quick view of Thyone’s face. His stunned expression did not have the chance to change before Eris moved once again. The jagged edge, now submerged in the opponent’s middle, began to slice a slow and precise upward path.

Thyone could do naught but stay rooted to the spot. The blade finally reached its mark. Eris hissed in satisfaction as he yanked the weapon mercilessly forward. “Victory belongs to me.” The tip surfaced. The skin ripped, the flesh gorged. The heart pumped furiously. Each pulse of the organ gurgled and bubbled around the destructive tip of the sickle, now protruding through its center, with the flow of precious blood.

The scent, the sight of the flowing life, blood that spilled forward like froth, red and hot, sent a thrill through Eris’s beast. He retracted his weapon with a mighty jerk and stabbed at the dark skies. His head fell back with a savage roar. “Victory is mine.”

A thunderous roar greeted his demand as the clouds ground together, deafening thunder clapped, and lightning streaked across the heavens in celebration. The tiny flickers of light that had begun toward the ending of the battle suddenly produced a single bolt that raged to the earth. It struck hard, searing the still figure upon the ground. Thyone’s body rattled and shook under the assault, and then it began to smoke, began to char. The rancid stench of burning flesh and bone permeated the air as the lightning incinerated the corpse to a pile of blackened ash. The heavens called up its weapon, and the skies closed up. All was once more still, dark.

The scent was the first thing that prickled Eris’s senses. The scent was pure panic, fresh fear. His tongue darted out, forked, and tested the air. The rest of his body quickly followed, in direction and transformation. The snake wound and slithered, constricted and expanded, crushing all vegetation and stone in its path. It had sensed the presence of its mate. Kyra was not far.

* * * *

The night was now not as dark with the aid of the silent lightning provided by the merciful Gods, but still remained ominous and menacing nonetheless. The air was alive with energy, anticipation for the impending battle of good and evil. The outcome would be impossible to predict. The darkness gathered quickly after each illuminating lightning bolt, but as determined the Gods lashed out enthusiastically. The prayer that echoed through the temple, muttered on each person’s lips, was that light would overcome this sinful darkness.

Unbeknownst to them, the snake slowed its desperate forward movement as it approached the dipping valley, cleverly concealed within thrashing wheat, until he finally drew to a complete halt. The body gathered close in tight folds. The time was upon it. It had defeated the minion and now it would defeat what it had been created to destroy, the ultimate beast sent from Cronus.

On a more personal level, an intimate war would have to be faced. It would face the companion it had been created to love, or witness her rejection. Eris lingered, a concerned but determined presence, within the tension-filled, half-coiled body. He drew in a deep, fortifying breath and urged his beast forward.

Images flooded his mind as he crested the ledge. Everything was just as he had imagined—unfortunately. He spotted Kyra. She quivered as violently as the stalks of wheat surrounding her, eyes wide, searching. Her rushed breaths and pounding heart sliced through the deafening noise and reached his keen ears. The scent of her fear, pure and overpowering, permeated the air that slapped heavily against his face. She stood alone, naked and terrified. Every fiber within him called for self preservation, longed to turn and slither away in the opposite direction. He yearned to blind his eyes and deafen his ears to the forthcoming rejection. But even as those tempting thoughts flickered through his mind, he slithered forward. Her terrified body called for his comfort. Her heart drummed a heavy tempo, drawing him. He was helpless. He went to her.

As in his dream he rose high, knowing what was to come, but he was powerless to resist. His pride in his marking, his mighty beast, bid him not to hide. He raised his head, majestic and splendid, and displayed his glorious sea-green and golden-yellow scales. Kyra detected his presence. She turned to him. He froze.

Time stood still as her eyes traveled the long length of his body. Everything surrounding them faded to nothing, to silence, as he focused only on her, on her reaction. He shivered as her gaze climbed higher and higher. His breath caught painfully in his chest as her gray eyes reached his head. Her pupils were too large, covering her irises fully. Her jaw dropped as her blood drained from her face.

Eris’s erratically thumping heart drew to an abrupt stop. He stood rigid before her, refusing to conceal what was part of him. His tongue flicked out with quick, uncertain darts, testing. He tasted the breeze. The stench of fear seeped deep within him, paralyzing him. He could not close his eyes to her horror. He accepted the full brunt of her panic. His head lowered in disappointment. His mother had been correct. What he saw in his dreams would come to pass.

A stench suddenly permeated the rushing wind. The enemy lay at his back. Eris did not move. He did not turn to fight. He did not draw back for protection. Eris simply stared down, dejected, at the woman who he would have given his life for, at the mate who would never accept him. He watched in cold, immobile silence as her mouth opened on the predicted scream. He stiffened, awaiting the torment to tear through his soul, as it had done in his vision. The scream came. He flinched. Her mouth moved. But unlike in his dream, he heard her.

“
Scorpion sting
.”

The words pounded and tumbled through his confused senses. He struggled to make sense of her warning. Frantically, he opened his mind fully to the images he had, until now, desperately tried to extinguish. They flooded his mind. He knew where the attack would come from. He ducked down as a mighty sting whizzed above his head. But he was not fast enough for the heavy sacs of venom attached to it. It brought him crashing to the ground.

A searing pain tore through his head as he connected with the solid, packed earth. He stared, dazed, at Kyra. The beast would go after her next. He had to save her. As he drew himself up, her terrified scream rang out. He watched, helpless, as evil, red eyes flashed viciously in the darkness, the head dropped with fangs extended. Eris moved, but he knew he was much too far to reach her in time. He hissed in relief as she scrambled back and the lethal protrusions crushed into the ground. It missed her by a hair’s breadth.

Eris edged forward as the beast roared in rage only to stop as the enemy rose. Eris stared in horror. The head was scaly, much like his own. The hooded eyes glowed hideously as the teeth flashed dangerously. The gaping jaw was huge, large enough to swallow him whole. Its body was long, thick, but differed from his in two major ways. The scales were an unholy black, blending in with the shadowed background, and it was massive, doubling his own mighty length. As he studied the great stretch of its body, he found a third difference, the tail. He recalled Kyra’s cautioning words, finally comprehending. It possessed a sting. Eris winced. His own sorely naked tail flexed and curled. He growled in disgust, self loathing. It possessed the scorpion sting he lacked.

The creature’s attention was still on Kyra. He had to distract it. His length extended into the winds as he hissed. The sound ended on a sigh as the glowing eyes turned to him. Kyra could get away. He prepared himself for the battle. His body strummed in anticipation. The blood thundered through him in a deafening roar. He eyed the demon, mockingly, challenging it to advance. It moved.

A large rock sailed unexpectedly through the darkness. The aim was good, but the delivery lacked strength. The stone bounced harmlessly off the scaly neck. Eris stayed rooted to the spot as the opponent once again turned its attention to Kyra. His large jaw dropped open, silently stunned. Kyra arched back and threw another useless rock. She was intentionally calling danger back to her. He hissed in outrage as her plot proved successful. The enormous snake lurched after her as she sped away.

* * * *

Kyra’s lungs burned as she vaulted higher. The lightning provided sufficient lumination. She had run at full speed back to the entrance of the cave from which she had fallen a short while ago. To her great relief, it had been the swaying wheat that had beckoned to her, not the sea. While she had lacked the swift agility of the snake as she escaped, she possessed a tiny stature. She made sure she was not an easy target as she ducked and dived, using the cover of long crops to her advantage, and moved stealthily during each lightning bolt. She had not paused upon reaching the foot of the steep incline. She climbed.

It did not take long for the beast to cover the distance. More distressing, it took even less time to stretch its body until its head lingered in the air, parallel to her. She ducked as it struck. Without assessing the damage as the head crashed against the rocky mountain, she scrambled on. The earth stood beneath her feet, but she clung tightly to boulders. She kept her gaze toward the sky. Earlier, she had dropped quickly to the ground. But now, ascending and under the threat of bodily harm, her progress seemed infinitely slower.