Execution Read online

  Callodax’s spider mount has its rear legs dug into the platform. Its middle legs rake at the branchwall as it strikes with its upper limbs.

  Callodax’s rifle discharges, but of course, the bullet does nothing to Amirani’s infidel armor. I sheath my gladius as I run to them, avoiding fireballs and drawing the Old Lady. The spider is using three of its bladed legs to jab at Amirani. I take aim at where the silver meets the natural part of the spider. The end of the blade-leg seems almost like a sewing needle, and I can see the insectine tendon which threads through it. I blast away, green ichor erupting from where the shot pierces the exoskeleton around the joint.

  Callodax reaches down to the spear stuck in the spider’s side and tugs it free. Then he adds it to the weapons attacking Amirani. The infused bastard is quick, but Amirani stays clear, moving away from me along the branchwall. It takes two more blasts at the joint before the silver blade falls free.

  Callodax and his mount turn their back to me and give chase to Amirani, running beside him along the branchwall, the points of the seven remaining legs throwing up wood and plant matter into the air. I give pursuit, loading more shells as I dodge around fighting treemen.

  Amirani turns on a dime, slipping the spear thrust of the infused, burying his sword into the face of the giant silverleg.

  Before Callodax strikes again, the Infidel Friend darts out, goo and bits of spider eyes trailing off his sword with the consistency and color of infected phlegm. The spider, perhaps blinded, charges on for a second, slower to stop than Amirani.

  I hear the telltale whistle.

  When I look back to Amirani, I see him diving behind the branchwall. I take his cue and jump down, landing beside him.

  He acknowledges me with a nod at the exact instant that the explosion goes off. Fire, shrapnel, and spider guts erupt from behind the wall as I feel the boards beneath me tremble. Beside me I can see the wicker hut where the children have been gathered. Two heroic treemen make their stand, fending off an Icanitzu with their spears.

  Through the wicker wall I see Fabian’s wife, huddling with another pair of women amidst the kids. For the first time I see the women civilians through infidel eyes. Why aren’t they fighting? How could they trust these men around them to ensure their safety?

  And worse, what fucked up society poisons everyone’s minds so badly that not even Hell can shake off the brainwashing?

  I want Amirani to give me orders, to tell me something that will make sense of the mess, but instead he leaps back up to the branchwall, expecting me to be what I am not. Or perhaps trusting I can become what I so badly need to be.

  I follow him onto the branchwall using a knot to propel me upward. My balance does not fail me as I come to the top.

  The spider is below us, still alive, dangling from the edge of the platform with two of its bladed legs buried into the burnt wood. Callodax, strapped to his saddle, is struggling to free himself.

  Amirani hacks at one leg, and I level the Old Lady at the other. I hold my trigger down and pump out five shells, one a slug and the other four buckshot. Both legs detach and the spider, Callodax and all, plunges down into the canopied mists below. Icanitzu and dezendyitzu dive over the ledge after them.

  I hope somewhere far below those mists, when Callodax hits bottom, the spider lands on him.

  Again the treemen cheer.

  “Is Cid out?” Amirani yells, ducking a dyitzu fireball.

  “No!” I respond. “I sent someone—”

  “I’ll ensure she’s free. Hold the platform. Keep the kids safe.”

  I see Fabian and his men heading our way along the longbridge. If I hold this place for just a little while, and if Fabian has to make it to the Safe tree, my son will come to me. For once, being this thing, this infidel, and being Cris, are perfectly aligned.

  There is nothing so restorative to a warrior’s soul than purity of purpose.

  Amirani eludes a few fireballs as he heads down the platform. I see a couple of Icanitzu returning, fluttering back up from where they’d dived fruitlessly after Callodax.

  “Stay at the wall!” I yell to the treemen. “We’ll rush the devils when Fabian arrives to make sure he can get to safety.”

  For some reason they obey me. Somehow I knew they would. I’m pretty sure when Fabian gets here, he’s going to want to kill me, but that shit won’t fly when I’m leading Dendra’s soldiers.

  That means Fabian and I are on the same side right now. Of all the fucked up things . . .

  We charge down from the wall as Fabian, his men and my son arrive. The dyitzu, leaderless and caught off guard by our sudden willingness to engage them, do not react well. To my right a few treemen spear an Icanitzu. AK-47 blasts from Fabian’s six white-cloaked guards take out a few returning dezendyitzu from the sky.

  I fell a dyitzu on my way to Fabian.

  The dyitzu hiding in the gaps between planks are forced to find new cover as we advance. They flee across the ruined and burning boards, diving off the edge of the platform and onto the supporting branches.

  Fabian’s got Aiden’s hands tied behind his back, bastard. My boy’s black eyes are completely expressionless, his face set in something like the wight equivalent of an infidel’s stoicism.

  Is he glad to see me?

  “This way!” I shout to Fabian and his men, and then louder, so the rest of the treemen can hear me. “Back to the wall.”

  My men lay down a little extra fire at the dyitzu’s new positions and begin an orderly retreat.

  I keep my eyes on the dyitzu as I usher Fabian and his soldiers back across the body littered platform. “When was the last time you talked to the Tree Lord?” I shout over the sounds of the remaining combat.

  “At the beginning!” one of Fabian’s men answers. “We were ordered to get the wights and deliver them to Callodax in exchange for help in this fight.”

  Wights? As in plural? What happened to Durgan?

  Fabian gives his man a sharp look, but then speaks up himself. “At the time we didn’t know Callodax was the one attacking.”

  “Makes sense,” I say. “Down everyone!” A pair of fireballs floats over us. “When the blast knocked out my bars, I immediately went to the Tree Lord. He said you guys had left a while before. He’s pissed as hell right now.”

  Fabians snorts. “Damn right.”

  Lying to Fabian makes me feel better about fighting alongside him, for some reason.

  I leap up, mounting the branchwall with two giant steps.

  “Back over the wall!” I shout to the soldiers. “Covering fire!” Then I turn and offer a hand to Fabian and his men. “He said he wants Callodax dead. And he doesn’t want the wights anywhere near them.”

  Fabian is first. I crouch low and strain with my legs to power the huge man up.

  He’s suspicious, but his men aren’t. Fabian, in this case, has the right of it, but I can’t help but feel like this means his guys are better people. The next man is much easier to help up.

  “The Tree Lord gave me permission to fight in the battle,” I say.

  This eases Fabian, not because it makes the story any more believable, I’m guessing, but because my lie makes it sound like Dendra’s power structure is still intact. I look back to the Prima Tree. Hell, it’s entirely possible that the Tree Lord’s already dead.

  With my gladius, I cut Aiden’s bonds as if it’s the most normal thing a person can be doing. Fabian’s eyes bulge.

  “Infidel,” one man shouts to me, “look!”

  My cockles warm at the realization that he reported to me rather than Fabian, but the sensation doesn’t last.

  A stream of pigmaditz are soaring across the chamber, and they’re taking a ninety-degree turn right toward us.

  I look back to Fabian. “The Tree Lord said keeping the wights away from Callodax was priority number one. Get those kids,” I point to the nursery, “and your wife to the Safe Tree. I’ll hold the imps, if they can be held.”

  Fabian’s nostrils fla
re, but then he sees his wife and becomes lost looking at her. I guess maybe, deep down, he might actually love her.

  “Aiden,” I tell my son, “stay with Fabian and stay safe. Try and keep the kids away from the dyitzu.”

  “Yes, Cris,” he responds.

  “This way,” Fabian orders his men, apparently now on board with my plan.

  “We’re going to buy the women and children time!” I shout to the treemen, still finding it a little fucked up that Dendra has somehow convinced its women that they aren’t fighters. “Hold the line.”

  My men steel themselves, drawing bows and shouldering rifles and shotguns.

  “I’m low on arrows,” one wicker-helmed man says.

  A chorus of others agree, and a few say they’re out.

  “Then make sure you have a spear,” I answer.

  I meet the golden horde of pigmaditz with a canister of infidel fire. I mistime it, and the blast goes off below them, but the shockwave does more to scatter the formation than I could have hoped. The first wave hits the wall at a tumble rather than a glide, propelled forward by the blast. Those immediately above the fire fly over us, and those farther back swoop in too low.

  The treemen are smarter than me. They duck down behind the branchwall, stabbing up with their spears.

  Not me. I’m an idiot.

  I stand there, pistol in one hand, gladius in the other, slashing and shooting at the three-foot golden devils.

  From that vantage point I see a fresh pack of dyitzu coming down the longbridge. They might have been chasing Fabian.

  “We need more fucking arrows,” I shout. “Dyitzu coming.”

  One man is kicking a pigmaditz off the end of his spear. “There’s more in the Safe Tree armory.”

  I take stock of the branchwall. It doesn’t look like these pigs are going to be enough to dislodge us.

  “Hold the wall!” I cry. “I’ll be back with arrows.”

  A cheer goes up. Fuck me. They really are buying this Cris-is-an-infidel shit. I run, legs pumping, past the nursery and back onto the longbridge.

  Fabian is stepping onto the Safe Tree, my son between his men.

  “Fabian!” I shout. “Arrows. We need arrows from the armory.”

  A huge barrage of fireballs roll across the chamber, coming from my right. It looks like a thousand of them. They sweep by, some impacting with the bridge, most tearing above or below it. I keep an eye out to make sure I don’t get hit.

  This run is going to be more exciting than I thought.

  I jump over a puddle of fire.

  The barrage keeps coming, but thankfully it’s mostly over the longbridge now. The structure is as stable as any in Dendra, but that’s not much to brag about. I get more vertigo as the wooden planks bounce beneath my racing feet.

  At some point during the fighting, the air had cleared.

  I make it to the Safe Tree. I see my son climbing into a giant nest next to Fabian’s wife.

  Two of Fabian’s men are coming back with quivers of arrows.

  “Load me up!” I shout.

  Fabian is carrying a quiver for me too. “We’re headed back to the Prima Tree for orders,” he says, putting the quiver around my neck.

  Well, they’ll find out I lied, but hell, maybe that means I’ll get to shoot this son of a bitch.

  I hold up my arms and his men sling the quivers on me. I see a Dendran citizen moving along the Prima Tree bridge in a hurry, headed toward us. He’s calling for Fabian.

  “I’ll get back to the branchwall,” I say. “We’ll secure that tree and start taking them out. With Callodax gone we should be able to finish them off.”

  Fabian nods.

  The longbridge is still in good shape, thank God, but—

  Oh fuck.

  A wave of fire, like the tremendous barrage I saw earlier, hits the branchwall. The inferno rolls over the defenders, cresting with a spray of fiery droplets.

  They’re screaming.

  One man, burning, drops off the platform and plummets to his death. Pigmaditz are soaring over and through the inferno. And there, above it all, held in the clutches of two Icanitzu, is Callodax.

  They let the infused down where the platform meets the longbridge. The conflagration forces the survivors toward him.

  Oh fuck.

  “Fabian!” someone is shouting.

  It’s the citizen coming from the Prima Tree.

  “What?” Fabian is breathless, his eyes on the blazing branchwall.

  “The Tree Lord is dead,” he shouts. “He ordered you to kill the wights.”

  Fabian’s men turn to stare at me.

  “Aiden, run!” I scream.

  Fabian turns quickly and levels his AK-47 as Aiden takes cover in the Safe Tree bunker.

  “No, Fabian!” I shout.

  He fires off some rounds. I leap at him, forcing the gun upward. He knees at me, and I circle quickly around him.

  “Fabian!” I shout again, and wrap up his broad chest with my arms. “Fabian, you can’t. He’s a wight.”

  He grunts, fighting my hold. His men grab the quivers slung around my shoulders and try to drag me off.

  “Your bullets won’t hurt him, Fabian!” I scream. “He’s a wight.”

  Fabian rips out of my hold and shoulders his AK-47.

  He’ll kill civilians, he’ll kill his own—“Fabian! You’ll kill your wife.”

  He freezes. The men tugging at me stop too.

  “He’s immune to bullets,” I say quickly to hammer the point home, “but the women and children aren’t, Fabian. You’ll only kill them.”

  He frowns, slowly comprehending, the nostrils of his hooked nose flaring.

  I let the quivers on my arms fall off and remove the one from around my neck. “The Tree Lord is dead, Fabian. You’ve got to get them to safety.”

  Aiden has made a break for it and is running down the vine bridge to the Prima Tree.

  “We should kill him, Fabian,” one white-cloaked man says, pointing at me.

  Damn, and I thought he was the smart one. I could take a few bullets before they realize they need to shoot for my head, and there’s a nest I can duck into . . . but they don’t have to kill me. No one has ordered them to, so far as they know.

  “One second!” I shout.

  And just like the Tree Lord had paused and listened to Cid for no fucking reason, they listen to me.

  “Callodax is coming!” I say pointing back to the longbridge. “You know I want my son alive, so you know I’ve got to stop him. You guys save the children. I’ll die fighting Callodax.”

  Fabian mulls this over while his men watch. “Okay,” he says reluctantly, probably considering whether he wants to fight Callodax in my stead. “Get the kids.”

  How nice of you.

  I should probably shoot him right now.

  But there Callodax is, his back to me, stepping backward onto the longbridge. Ahead of him, the platform burns, sending small flaming pieces of itself shooting down like falling stars into the mists. Pigmaditz flee the conflagration, taking to the air in all directions, but the dyitzu are shit out of luck.

  A dozen surviving treemen are charging Callodax in an attempt to get by him and escape the flames.

  Callodax has that fucking latch action rifle. They shoot him with arrows and bullets, but he doesn’t care. He just reloads and fires, reloads and fires.

  Fabian rushes after my son as his men direct the women and children out of the nest. I just have to trust that Aiden can stay away. Or kill Fabian. Killing him would be nice. I drop to one knee, flipping my M-16 to single shot mode, and take careful aim. Callodax won’t fear me. I can’t hurt him. I fire a bullet at his rifle. Miss.

  Again.

  Miss.

  Fuck this is hard.

  Again.

  Got it.

  Again.

  Yes!

  Again.

  The smell of the M-16’s gunpowder seems strangely sweet for some reason. Or maybe it’s burning sinfruit.


  He goes to fire his rifle, but no dice. I’d damaged it!

  Callodax tosses the rifle aside and picks up a spear.

  I draw my gladius, snag my last two canisters of infidel fire, pocket them, and drop my pack.

  “Infidel!” a woman’s voice calls from behind me.

  There they are, women and children, waiting at the Prima Tree’s bridge. Why the hell are they still here?

  My heart stops.

  It’s not a planked bridge, so people are only supposed to go across three at a time. Fabian’s got them doing ten or so, but they don’t even have the first group all the way over.

  One girl is lying on her side, and I see a long red bloody line where a blade, probably a silver spider leg, had cut deeply into her thigh.

  They’ll have to carry her.

  But she can die. A thousand of her can die, a million, so long as Aiden lives.

  I step up to the longbridge. The last of the treemen have died. Callodax is already coming. Merciless. Unstoppable.

  Or seemingly so. I’d tried shooting him. I could try dropping him into the abyss again, but the Icanitzu would just flying-monkey his ass back up here.

  Maybe I need to switch up my tactics and kill the Icanitzu which carry him back up. But there’s just one of me.

  Or maybe my sword can run him through.

  I step onto the longbridge, my boots sounding off against the wooden planks.

  Alright, motherfucker, ready or not, here I come.

  Icanitzu hover over Callodax like a flock of gnats. As a bluff, I point my pistol at them. Infidels occasionally have bullets which can hurt Icanitzu. They appear to buy my threat, hovering in place maybe forty yards back as Callodax approaches. If they get any closer, I’m going to fucking firebomb them.

  Callodax has his spear under one arm. He seems remarkably competent with the weapon, which scares me a little. How horribly unfair is this about to be if he’s not just an infused Revenant, but a better fighter than I, too.