Illusion (38 page)

“If you ask nicely, I might help you release your friend,” called Esmonda. They were nearly at eye level.

Maya smiled and nodded. “I owe you one.”

Esmonda looked so pleased it made Maya slightly nervous.

She offered Esmonda a rueful smile and shielded her eyes from the wind. The beast launched away, muscles bunching beneath her legs, and spiraled close to the moon, so close it felt like she could reach out and touch its cold surface. Wind blew through her hair and her clothes flapped against her body. Ahead she recognized the bulky frame of Resh on the back of the huge Enim, whirling about a massive beast, only feet from the gaping chasm. The Khereb wore Jhara the mage’s face. In that moment, the Khereb launched a cracking blow at Resh. He ducked, but the blow struck the Enim warrior across the neck, decapitating the Anubis head. Resh dropped from the sky like an arrow. Maya flew toward the fight. She swung out with the
kila
and eviscerated Jhara with one swipe. Blood and entrails poured from the open wound. She bared her teeth and cut again. Jhara burst into flames and screamed before nose-diving into the chasm.

The pillars closed with a thunderous clap and the sky darkened to a reddish glow, just like in her dream. Everything burned, the sky red with fiery arrows, the flames catching on the wood below and making it burn.

Resh plummeted toward earth. Maya gripped the Enim with her legs, urging it toward Resh’s falling body. The world spun, fire illuminating the smoky atmosphere. Just before Resh hit the earth the Enim snapped its jaws and grasped his cloak. They landed on the ground with a heavy thud.

Mortals emerged from the swampy forest and the Order dismounted among cries of relief multiplying across Tau.

But all she could do was jump off the beast and grope under its broad neck for Resh. On the other side of the Enim, a tall warlock pushed himself to his feet and dusted fire off his armor. A raven cawed and landed on his shoulder.

All in black, Resh stepped forward, shaking his head and smiling from ear to ear, his white-scarred mouth pulling up in a gruesome smirk.

It would serve him right if they had to live with the witches. They made a lousy pair: she never did what he asked and he struggled to be honest. Perhaps the coven would teach them a thing or two. He dropped his sword and dashed around the Enim, plucked her off her feet, and swung her in circles before clasping her close and whispering in her ear. The sky lightened as the sun rose to the east and broke through the clouds.

The raven flew off his shoulder and circled above his head, meeting its mate. The black birds tumbled in midair and flew east, small specks against a high stretch of orange sky. Before they disappeared, a raven’s cry echoed back to those watching.

“The Enim Empire might have stood as one, but Earth is divided,” Pia cawed. “Easy pickings.”

The End

Dy lives and writes in Adelaide, South Australia. Her partner is a great cook and doesn’t mind when she works through dinner. She has a ten-year-old daughter who inhales chocolate and looks like Twiggy, shares a house with two dogs, two cats, an annoying but loveable Alexandrine parrot, and several fish.

She longs for the day that her daughter stops bringing home refugee animals. Snails inching down the staircase are no fun.

Her background is in classics, anthropology, and social work, and she spent much of her childhood traveling throughout southeast Asia and the South Pacific, learning about other cultures.

Her days are spent writing, spending time with family and friends, and chatting with crit buddies. If she’s not on the computer you can find her reading, daydreaming, drawing, haunting antiquarian bookshops, or researching her latest novel.

Dy has a MA in Creative Writing from Adelaide University and is a graduate of the Odyssey Science Fiction Fantasy Workshop 2012.