Rune and Ruin

14 - More Than That

391 B.C.E. - Road to Rune from Caere, Coast of the Tasurian Peninsula, Spring, Month of Maius

Falx

Quintus holds down the demon as my claws crush through scales and bones to wrap around his still-beating heart. As the demon thrashes, his horns perilously close to my arm, Quintus shoves his claws into the demon's eyes, blinding him before yanking his hand clear of fangs dripping with poison. I yank, and the soft organ squishes in my palm, sending blood spurting from the hole in his chest cavity. His unbarbed tail whips free, slapping at Quintus and me ineffectively. The demon howls, the eerie sound choking off into a quiet gurgle as he draws his last breath.

I wipe my hands on the tattered remnants of the Tasuri's clothing before standing and looking down the road to Rune.

"Damn the gods. We are truly a gods-damned island," Quintus mutters as we stand at the edge of what was once the well-paved road.

Ahead of us is the sea, still frothing madly as it devours more and more of the land. The peninsula has been rent in two, east and west, and Caere is separated by this new inlet.

"We can easily fly back and forth," Flavius points out. Behind him is his legion, spread out along the remaining stretch of road leading back to Caere. All along the road and the fields between the city and the new sea are Runions seeking to return home. Flavius's legion keeps them in check, but the panic and fear are so thick in the air that my demon's tongue flickers, tasting it.

Nearby, another Tasuri goes through the Change. He's a weak noble, or perhaps a servant, judging by the look of him. It only takes four Tasuri warriors to end his life. A few other bodies of fully-changed demons litter the sides of the road. In shock, afraid for their lives, the scattered Tasuri fleeing Caere sidestep the carcasses as if they were nothing.

"Most of the Flight are already here on our side," Quintus points out. "Thania was correct. Caere is, in effect, much safer now, especially from the Shapers."

"True. You are safe from everyone but the few who couldn't control the Change and the Flight. You control half the Flight, Fyrrin," Flavius points out. "Ulster the other half. He wants an Arthe priestess. I suggest you use that to your advantage."

My demon's fangs threaten to grind to dust as my jaw clenches. Ulster was too close to Thania yesterday. He was practically threatening her. My demon is not in the mood to parlay with Ulster.

"They aren't whores," Quintus rumbles.

"They are valuable. Potential hatchling bearers," Flavius says quietly. "It draws powerful males here. You know that, Fyrrin. It's why you sent notice of the Arthe priestesshood to Rune."

"When we have time, General," I say, watching as a large section of earth falls into the churning sea, "you will join my family for cena. I'm curious about the rumors you seem to have heard about the Arthe priestesses."

The male's eyes grow hard. "I'm sure Perla would like to join your family for a meal, Warlord," he accepts warily. Flavius has already started his month-long courtship of his chosen priestess.

Feeling petty, I tell Quintus, "We will return to the city to assess the damage. Flavius, I leave you in control of the road."

We take to the sky, leaving Flavius to walk back to Caere. It only takes a small amount of time to fly back into Caere. As we approach, I feel my heart dip. The banditticia, the cemetery of plague hatchlings, is swarming with bodies.

"Do you see her?" Quintus asks, his voice grim as he lands on the top of the hill next to me.

I can feel Thania through the bond. I know she's down there, in the teeming mass of Acera below, but I can't spot the bright turquoise robes I chose for the Arthe priestesses for this very purpose.