All That Lives Must Die - Eric Nylund [97]
Mr. Ma sighed, shook his head, then looked to the rest of Team Scarab.
Amanda stood behind one of the stones, barely peeking out, trembling.
Robert sighed and looked at Amanda, then said, “I’ll stay here and watch.”
Jeremy crossed his arms. “I have no desire to see the blood and guts of gods and devils, up close, thank you very much.”
Sarah Covington glanced uneasily from the battlefield, to Mr. Ma, to her cousin, and then whispered, “I guess I’ll be staying here as well.”
Mr. Ma turned to the rest of them. “Stay close to me, then, and always behind. I will tolerate no wandering off.” Then more to himself, he said, “Something is very wrong.”
He strode down the hill, and they followed.
Eliot trotted next to Fiona, apparently just as curious about their family, although he was looking more at the Infernals. She was fascinated with them, too . . . in a grotesque, can’t-take-your-eyes-off-it-because-it’s-so-horrific way.
How could she and Eliot be related to them? And how could they look so human one moment and so completely monstrous the next? Which was their real form?
Overhead, flocks of crows and vultures circled.
Was their father a man or that thing they’d caught a glimpse of standing over Beelzebub as Del Sombra burned down around them? A bat-winged nightmare?
Mr. Ma led them past heroes who fought valiantly, picking a path through the debris of broken catapults, and gingerly avoiding where the earth smoldered as cooling lava.
The fog parted before them.
Immortals and Infernals clashed in combat, but moved out of their way with perfect timing as if these memories were squeezed aside by the presence of real people.
Fiona wanted to touch something, pick up a sword and fight—help her family somehow. But if this was just a memory from the weeping stones, she couldn’t interact with anything here—and vice versa.
So why, then, was Mr. Ma looking so concerned? He paused and surveyed the battle through the mist and smoke.
A stone’s throw away, Aunt Dallas battled for her life against the Infernal with flaming hair. Her enemy was smaller now, but Dallas fought alone. Every soldier that had been in her group lay in the dirt with throats and arms and chests torn out.
“That is Abaddon, a Destroyer,” Jezebel dryly commented. “A match for any god.”
The Infernal slashed. Her nails scraped down the length of one of Dallas’s swords as she parried. The metal sparked and shattered at the hilt.
Dallas stabbed with the other sword, and penetrated the monster’s heart. It didn’t slow her down.
Abaddon drove her back against jagged rocks, forcing her to her knees. Dallas fought on, tears of rage streaking her face, and would not give up.
The Infernal was going to kill her.
Fiona had to do something.
She glanced back at Mr. Ma, who had his back turned, surveying the far side of the battlefield.
Fiona wasn’t stupid enough to break her promise and run off on her own, but she had to do something.
She knelt, grabbed a fist-sized rock, and threw it.
The stone hit Abaddon on the side of her head and bounced harmlessly off . . . but it did connect.
And it got her attention. She turned.
“You shouldn’t have been able to that,” Mitch whispered.
The Infernal turned back to Dallas . . . then halted again and cocked her head as if hearing something.
Fiona felt motion in the air—like an arrow’s whistle or a blade just before it cuts.
The woman in bone armor emerged from the mist. Audrey was wide-eyed, long white hair flowing over her shoulders, teeth bared, and holding twin curved daggers of sharpened tooth and tusk.
She slashed at the Infernal so fast, feinting and weaving a razor pattern in the air.
Abaddon hissed fire.
Audrey ducked, rolled, the flames unfurling over her head, and then she bounded forward again—slashing.
The Infernal held out a hand to block.
Her pinkie severed and wriggled upon the ground. She screamed and took three strides backwards. Abaddon glared at her opponent . . . then turned and fled into the smoke.
Audrey helped Dallas to her feet.
They hugged—then Audrey wheeled about, staring straight at