There was a light ahead, not daylight nor starlight, but something diffuse and obscene to Falco’s eyes. He tightened his grip on the staff and probed ahead with his mind. It was as if he could see two blocks of ice just outside the entrance to the tunnel. Cold, that was the aura of whatever waited; cold and uncaring.
He paused. “General.”
“Yes, Centurion?”
“Guard her.”
“I do not—“ Kaia began, but Falco shushed her.
“There is nothing you can do against these things that wait for us.” He held up the Naga staff. “This is the only weapon we have against them, and I am the best trained to handle it. Wait here until I call.”
Cassius looked back at the red glow. “We do not have much time.”
Falco edged forward, feet spread in the fighting stance he’d been taught as a child. He could see out of the entrance now and noted the fog that covered the area. He could still sense the two cold spots, definitely not like anything he had ever faced before, and he had killed not only humans but every manner of beast in the arena. This was something completely new. They flanked the entrance, about ten feet back on either side. Always the pincer; it was the classic maneuver of a larger force. Falco had encountered it numerous times before.
He knew there was only one way to face this threat, and that was to attack. It was a lesson that had been pounded into him by his various lanistas over the years. When in doubt, attack. When surprised, attack. When desperate, attack. In the arena there was only one inevitable end to the defense: death.
He gathered himself, then dashed forward out of the tunnel onto the hillside, and spun to the right. But there was nothing there. As he tried to adjust, he realized his opponent was above the hillside, floating in the air, coming in for a strike. He could also sense the danger closing from behind, He had a brief glimpse of a figure covered in white armor, red eyes, then he jabbed, missed, and rolled downslope, taking the impact of the rocks and ground and letting his body absorb the blows.
He hit the beach and rolled to his feet at the ready. The two Valkyries were coming toward him, ten feet between them, hands glittering with sharp extensions on each of the fingers. Falco tucked the haft of the staff under his left arm, blade forward, and drew his sword from across his body with his left. He knew from the words of the oracle that it could not hurt these creatures, but he needed it to protect himself.
They attacked. He jabbed at the one on the left and backed the one-handed slash of the one on the right with his sword, feeling the impact through the blade, up his arm. He staggered back. The metal was chipped where it had been hit. Falco growled and turned as they circled him. He could not sense their intentions as he could in the arena with more earthly opponents, only their cold presence. That, combined with their ability to hover and the sloping ground, put him at a distinct disadvantage. His military training had taught him that the army that controlled the high ground had the advantage, so he rushed upslope at the Valkryie closest to him.
He thrust with the staff, and the Valkyrie parried it with a slap of a clawed hand. Then it emitted a noise such as he had never heard, a scream that cut through his brain, the pain doubled as the other one added its own inhuman yell.
Falco jabbed again, and as the Valkryie slapped, he pulled back on the haft of the staff and pivoted with all his strength, directing the edge of the blade at the hand. The edge caught right at the wrist and sliced neatly through, the clawed hand falling to the ground.
Instead of blood, black steam issued from the stump, and the Valkryie screamed once more, but there was different timbre to this, one that gave Falco confidence, as it echoed of disbelief and pain. Falco’s feeling was short lived as he sensed the other creature right behind him. He spun, ducking down, just in time as the tips of razor-sharp claws, sliced along his armor in the back, then cut his shoulder, splitting skin.
He stopped his slide with the Naga end of the staff, jamming it between two rocks on the slope, hands wrapped around the haft tightly, blade pointing up. The second Valkryie halted just short of splitting itself on the point.
“Come on!” Falco yelled at it.
The wounded Valkyrie joined the other, black still issuing out of the stump. As they came closer, Falco got to his feet, pulling on the staff. To his dismay, it didn’t move, the snakeheads jammed tight between the two rocks. He twisted and yanked to no avail. His sword was ten feet away where he had dropped it and the staff was useless.
Falco let go of the staff and stood, hands raised, ready to fight the creatures bare-fisted. They closed on him, then paused and turned slightly. Falco saw what had caught their attention. Kaia and Cassius were in the mouth of the tunnel, silhouetted in red. The priestess had a long dagger in one hand, the skull covered in her robe in the other, while Cassius had his sword in his one good hand. They were yelling to attract the attention of the Valkyries. It worked. Both floated up the hill toward the two, leaving Falco. He cursed and rushed after them, scrambling up the slope, picking up his sword as he went.
As the Valkyries closed on the tunnel opening, Kaia pulled aside the cloak, revealing the skull. It lit up the fog around it, and Falco could swear it was pushing the foul air away from it. The Valkyries stopped abruptly. With a chorus of screams, they rose up and retreated, moving back out to sea as the fog rapidly retreated also.
Falco stopped his charge, watching the creatures disappear with the strange fog. Kaia and Cassius came down to his location. Behind them, lava began flowing out of the entrance of the tunnel.
“You’re wounded,” Kaia said.
Falco glanced at the cuts on his shoulder. “It’s nothing.”
“It could be diseased from the creatures,” Kaia said. “We need to clean it.”
“We need to get out of here,” Falco said, pointing at the lava now flowing down toward them. He turned and went down to the Naga staff, freeing it from between the rocks. As he passed, he also picked up the severed claw of the Valkryie, sticking it in his belt.
He led the way to the boat, and they clambered aboard, Kaia covering the skull with her cloak once more. As Falco pushed off, he felt the ground shake again. Looking up, he could see what the smoke coming out of the top of Palaia Kameni was much greater than before, a thick, dark plume rising to the heavens. He hopped and grabbed one oar while Kaia took the other. They pulled, rumbling in the air giving them urgency.
“Head for the opening,” Cassius ordered. “I ordered Captain Fabatus to put out to sea near there if there was any trouble, and it will be quicker than going over that ridge.”
Falco adjusted the course of the boat, leaning into the oar.
“What about the oracle?” Cassius asked as they passed the smaller island.
“She’s dead,” Falco said. He glanced up and met Kaia’s eyes. He knew she had felt the old woman’s death deeper than he had. “Why are these things killing the oracles?”
“They want to wipe us out,” Kaia send. “End the line of priestesses.”
Falco gave up the conversation and concentrated on rowing. There was the sharp crack of an explosion behind them, and he looked back. A section of Palaia Kameni had collapsed, spewing dust into the air. Lava was flowing out of the tunnel and the destroyed area, heading down toward the water. Where it touched, there was an explosion of steam as heat fought liquid. Falco and Kaia strained hard at the oars, and even Cassius tried to help with his one good arm, splashing at the water.
There was another explosion behind them, and they didn’t even bother to look. The boat lifted as a five-foot-high swell passed under them and headed out to sea. The wave gave them some momentum, and Falco risked a glace back, feeling a tremendous pressure in the back of his head. At that moment, the top of Palaia Kameni blew with a thunderous explosion. Rocks and dirt flew high into the air, and a fiery cloud came racing outward.