CITY OF THE GODS: FORGOTTEN (77 page)

“Aavi, stay down, don’t move!” he insisted, hoping to prevent her from being targeted again. It was of no use. More arrows came, two of them finding her. When D’Molay reached her, her she lay on her back with new arrows in her side and torso.

She turned her head and looked at him, “D’Molay? I-it’s you.”
 
Despite her obvious pain, she managed a smile upon recognizing him.

He scrambled to her side and embraced her, “Oh Aavi! Why did you come up here?”
 
Why?” Tears started to fall from his eyes.

“The beast . . . I had to go to stop . . . all the fighting . . .” she said, looking up at him with a confused, pained look on her face.

“Oh, Aavi.” He reached out and brushed the hair out of her face.

“I . . . I can’t move anymore.”

“Shhhh, I know. I know. I’m here with you, we’re together now.”
 
D’Molay hated how meaningless his words were. Even in the dark he could see that her wounds were fatal unless he could get here to a healer immediately. He knew that he too would be dead soon as well.
 
If he didn’t bleed to death, the enemy troops nearby could kill him quite easily at this point.
 
He was in no condition to fight back now.

“I think . . . I think this must be what dying is like.”

“Don’t say that, Aavi. You helped me live, and I’ll help you, I promise.”

D’Molay tried to scoop her up in his arms. If he could get her to the healers perhaps there would be hope. In vain he struggled to lift her, but he found he could no longer stand. His leg would no longer support any weight.
 
Aavi felt limp in his arms, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. “Help us! Help!” D’Molay cried out forcefully to anyone who might hear.

A muted light broke the darkness. It came slowly toward them, from the direction the beast had gone. “I . . . feel so . . . cold. It’s almost here, hurry,” Aavi whispered. D’Molay squinted toward the light. His vision was so blurred from exhaustion and pain he could hardly be sure of what he saw. It seemed to be the beast, but it now had a golden aura around it. D’Molay blinked as he caught a fleeting glimpse of noble wings on its back and a flaming mane around its neck. For a few seconds he was seeing what Aavi was seeing - the aura of the creature. The vision was gone after he rubbed his eyes, but Aavi’s words confirmed what he had seen. “It’s so beautiful.”

“It can’t have you,” D’Molay muttered jealously. Aavi seemed to rally in his arms.

“D-don’t you see? It had to end like this. I was never meant to stay here.
 
I-it is my companion. You were right.” She managed to smile at him. “And now . . . I - I know what I am, and why we met.”
 
She closed her eyes and struggled to take in another breath.

“Then tell me,” D’Molay pleaded, his voice cracking. “Please, Aavi.”

“It’s about to h-happen. Hold me close. You’ll be . . . safe.” She closed her eyes as the pain overwhelmed her.

“What’s going to happen? What, Aavi? Aavi!” D’Molay shook her gently. He felt her try to embrace him, but she could not, for the strength in her arms was gone. She was slipping away. He could see Mayans with drawn weapons approaching as well.
 
He knew that this was the end for both of them.
  

D’Molay fell into desperate grief, hugging her to him and sobbing uncontrollably. He didn’t care if he lived or died; his only thoughts were of Aavi.
 
Her eyes opened one last time and she stared up at the sky, seeing something far away. Then her body suddenly fell into spasms and a bright yellow glow emanated from her very being. The golden light engulfed her and D’Molay.

He clung to her, squinting into the brightness. “No! I won’t let you go!” he cried out.

It was as if they were inside a swirling sphere of energy. He could see nothing but the glow as it grew in size and brightness. When it turned from gold to almost white, he had to shut his eyes as it was too bright to behold, but still he held Aavi in his arms refusing to let go of her.

On the battlefield, the troops nearby saw the round yellow glow appear. Those closest began to back off, fearing it was some enemy spell or trick. Further back, some warriors stopped to see what it was, but most continued to fight. They had their orders and no glow would stop them from serving their gods’ command to kill their enemies. As the ball of light turned white, it retreated into itself, compacting into a brighter orb. For a second, all the sounds of weapons and armor clanging against each other stopped. The cries of battle went mute.
 
There was no sound at all. Then the bright white glow exploded forth, traveling in a wave across the entire field and engulfing everything in its path. Even the warriors of the air were not spared as the white glowing bubble expanded high in the sky. Mayan air rafts, strange flying squids and Greek heroes on flying horses were lost in the whiteness along with the forces on the ground.

The energy washed over a large circular area outside the fortress engulfing trees, tents, warriors and then rushed toward the beast itself. The six-legged creature was killing the Mayans and Greeks indiscriminately as it ran wild through their ranks. When the beast saw the energy ball, it stopped rampaging, seeming to recognize the glow. It rushed forward and plunged into the swirling energy, disappearing completely. The white bubble gave one last great burst of energy and expanded a bit more. Then, like the remaining sparkle of a firework in the sky, the globe fizzled away, leaving the battlefield burned and destroyed. Every single living thing within the bubble had been turned to white sandy statues, save one.

D’Molay slowly raised his head and looked at the devastation surrounding him. The battlefield was blackened, smoking as far as he could see almost all the way to the fort itself. The scorched land was dotted with transfigured warriors and creatures. The strange unworldly mix of black earth and white statues was surreal, even in the realm of the gods. He recoiled in shock as several statues fell out of the sky and smashed to the black earth, shattering into scattered piles of white crystals. He huddled, stunned by all the destruction and death around him.

Then he realized he was still clinging to Aavi, but she too was lifeless, her perfect face now cast in white sand.

Bits of the sand had dusted his face and clothing. As the grains mixed with his tears, and the tears passed his lips, he realized what the sand truly was -salt. Its taste stung bitterly in his mouth. All of the soldiers, the creatures, and Aavi had been turned to salt.
 
As he let go of Aavi’s transformed hand, his tight grip left a depression. She and all the other figures were brittle, easily broken. A heavy rain would wash them all away. He realized they couldn’t even be moved without crumbling into unrecognizable chunks.

“No . . . No!”
 
D’Molay started sobbing uncontrollably.

Time had no meaning as he lay on the field of battle beside Aavi’s figure. He had failed to protect her. He would never again see the joy on her face as she experienced the wonder of new things. She had been with him for such a short time, yet had become the most important thing in his life. In the end, it seemed she had gained some peace and understanding. There was no way for D’Molay to be sure, but he hoped that was the case. Still, he found it impossible to move beyond the overwhelming weight of his failure. When the sun rose and shed even more light on the aftermath of the war, he became even more depressed at the vast, meaningless destruction. There seemed no point to even getting up, so D’Molay just lay there and cried, praying that Aavi would somehow recover.

“Aavi, please . . . come back . . . Aavi.”

Out of the corner of his eye, D’Molay thought he saw one of the statues move. Mustering the initiative to look, he saw a lone figure walking amid the devastation. The figure was in silhouette, but he knew at once it was Mazu. Her staff and Chinese peasant’s hat gave her away.
 
She was investigating many of the statues, gently touching them with her hand as if checking to see if someone was still inside.
 

“Mazu!”
 
he managed to choke out. She turned and headed in his direction.
 

She drew close, a look of sorrow etched upon her motherly face.

“So much destruction. I am pleased to see you survived, though I am at a loss to explain it.” D’Molay turned away from her, drawing her gaze to the salt statue lying at his side. “Oh no, Aavi! Then she, too, fell victim to the beast’s power?”

D’Molay could not bear to look at Mazu as he replied. “No, none of this was the beast’s doing. Aavi did this, and Aavi saved me.”
 
Tears were streaming down his face.
 
He was filled with sadness, guilt and a sense of complete failure.

Bending to one knee and steadying herself with the staff, Mazu placed her hand on Aavi’s chest. She turned to D’Molay, a deeply pained look upon her visage. “She’s gone. There is nothing that can be done.”

“I know that,” D’Molay snapped back angrily. He could not take his gaze away from Aavi’s lifeless form. “I know,” he added more gently as tears flooded his eyes. They fell upon her, leaving matching trails in the salt.

There would be many questions and speculations yet to come, but for now, they were both beyond words, beyond thought. D’Molay tried to force himself not to scream and cry and lash out. His face was that of a man who had lost everything he held dear. Mazu stood beside him in silence. They seemed out of place among the hundreds of statues, like ghosts moving unnoticed among the living.

Despite the huge explosion, there were still many troops left alive. The fort had been spared by the blast. Most of the blast’s victims had been from the opposing forces, although many Greeks had been killed as well. Ares and his loyal followers counted it a glorious victory, but for D’Molay, none of that mattered. He had withdrawn from the world, lost in a sea of grief and self-recrimination. Mazu managed to have him carried back to healers in the fortress, then to the room that he and Aavi had shared. After three days, he was still unresponsive, refusing to open his locked door for anyone. Outside in the hallway, Mazu could sense his mind was intact, but his heart was broken. On that third day, Mazu finally felt it was time to intervene as she once again came to the closed door for a visit.

“D’Molay, it’s me. Let me in.”
 
As usual there was no answer. “Then you give me no choice.” So saying, Mazu turned into water and simply flowed under the door, reforming herself on the other side.

The room was dark. The two windows had been covered with thick canvas sheets that allowed almost no light in.
 
Mazu’s eyes adjusted quickly enough as she walked over to the bed where he lay. She let out a slight gasp as she saw him. For a second, she thought he had died. He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, his eyes red and his dark hair ragged and greasy. He was pale and thin and fragile, not the vigorous Freeman explorer she had come to know.
 
There was no indication that he even knew she had entered the room.
 

“D’Molay?” Mazu reached out and took his hand in hers. His hand seemed to have no strength in it. Leaning forward, she looked closely into his eyes. Though she was right in front of him, he did not seem to focus on her. She took her other hand and placed it on his forehead. It was quite hot. She feared he again had the fever from the pact they made with Glaucus, although she had attempted to forestall its effects over the last few days by making inquires about Circe or Scylla of some of the Greek troops and nearby creatures. She had even gotten a few leads. Mazu partially transformed the palm of her hand into water and slid it across his forehead and along the sides of his face. As she did so, she noticed he seemed to relax a bit and his breathing became deeper and steadier. “Can you hear me?
 
Squeeze my hand if you can.”

She felt him hold her hand tighter. Mazu smiled slightly and sat on the side of the bed and ran her wet hand around his face and neck spoke to him. Hoping to regain his interest in the world, she decided to catch him up on how the great battle had ended. “You must try to recover. Your friends Kastor, Herikos and Tycho have been asking for you. Yes, they all survived, and the Greeks were victorious. The last of the battle was very bloody - I’m sure you would have enjoyed seeing that,” she said with a wry smile. The pained look that marked his face relaxed as she gave him the good news about his friends. Encouraged, Mazu told him more. “Some attackers escaped into the hills and skies, heading back to their own realms to nurse wounds and their bruised egos. There will be serious repercussions once the Council is ready to discuss the attack. I’ve already been told they want to hear from you, so we’ll have to get you cleaned up at some point. I’ll find you some fresh clothes when the time comes.”