Yup, you guessed it. Fic again.
Oct. 29th, 2007 02:45 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mad_andyBattles and death.
Yoz straightened herself as she looked up the short slope where she knew the entrance to Tiamat's lair was. She looked down at her feet, inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly, giving herself a little shake. “Well, c'mon boots. We've got a long way to go tonight. Best we get started.” Looking back up the slope, she turned her head to the west, watching the last rays of the sun subside behind the hills before assuming a fierce expression, and setting off.
By the time she reached the entrance to the cavern, no-one would have realised that she'd had a moment of…reflection…a little further down the hill. She stopped in front of what would have appeared, to a person with normal sight, to be a blank wall; draped with ivy and lichen, it appeared as immovable and permanent as the mountains themselves. She placed both hands on her hips and assumed a confident sneer.
“So, you gonna let me in or what?”
The illusion flickered and faded, revealing her erstwhile lover on the other side of it, standing gravely beside a man-sized opening in the rock.
“Chapman.”
“Yolanda.”
“You haven't changed a bit, you know. Eighteen forever.”
He bowed, dipping his head low before straightening and facing her, looking directly into her eyes with grief written all over his face. “You have.”
“It's called ageing. But you'll never experience it, will you?”
“Yoz.…”
“Let's go. I've got some friends to free.”
Sweeping past him, she strode swiftly down the corridor that plunged into the hill, coat flaring behind her like a piece of the night itself. Steve tried to catch her up, almost having to hop as she had taken a direct midline, forcing him into the walls if he tried to walk beside her. In the end, he had to settle for trotting one pace behind her.
“You've come armed.”
“No projectile weapons. I know the rules, friend.”
“She won't let you win.”
“So I've seen.”
“And you're still here?” he pulled up in shock before shouting down the corridor after her. “You're insane!”
She skidded to a halt before whirling around to face him. “Yeah? Y'think? You ain't seen nothing yet, my friend.”
They glared at each other.
“Besides,” she added quietly, “I'm not the one who gave up life because I was afraid to die. I know where my soul is going,” she smiled nastily at him, “and I'm still prepared to give up my life for my friends. How's that for crazy?”
He never got to give an answer, because at that moment the deep, oily, but nevertheless utterly compelling voice that belonged to the ancient, desiccated creature known as the Queen of the Vampires rolled up the hollow corridor.
“Children,” it intoned, with a hint of amusement, “come now. I don't have all night. And neither do you.”
Yoz whirled on her heel and resumed her stride along the corridor. Shaking down his mane of dark hair, Stephen followed reluctantly. “You're mad.”
“And you're already dead, so shut the fuck up.”
Yoz strode calmly into the centre of a large, sand floored cavern, its arched ceiling clearly a mixture of natural formation and the handiwork of man - or rather, sentient forces. After all, standing in the very centre of a large number of Eire's vampire population it would be unwise, she thought wryly, to make too many assumptions. She stood calmly at a parade ease, hands loosely folded behind her back, feet shoulder width apart, back straight and head high.
“My lady,” she addressed the creature before her, seated on a raised dais in the middle of the far wall, her carved wooden throne surrounded by a contingent of heavily muscled and highly competent looking vampires. Stephen paused by her shoulder.
“See?” he whispered, “you're crazy.”
She inclined her head to him and smiled. “Thanks for the tip. Now fuck off,” she murmured.
Shaking his head, the young man rejoined his queen, moving to stand at her left.
“Yolanda,” the creature intoned, with a smile. She moved to stand, and the row of men in front of her moved to the sides; Yoz controlled her breathing when she saw what the bulk of the bodies had been concealing.
Ian and Vic, in chains, kneeling in front of the throne. They wore no shirts, but had on the same black trousers and boots that the rest of the contingent did; she must be planning to induct them into the ranks after I'm dead, thought Yoz grimly. He's right. I know I studied the time streams, but even so…I really must be insane.
She smiled slowly. But then, if I am? Why then, I have nothing to lose.
“You smile,” purred the queen again, stepping down from the dais and approaching her enemy, flanked by a single vampire.
“I do. Looking forward to defeating you and reclaiming my friends, in accordance with your own rules.”
“And if I choose not to let them go?”
Yoz shrugged. “Hey, you made the rules, not me. If you're a pathological liar what am I to do about it?”
Tia stiffened, anger flashing across her face. “I do not lie.”
“Really? That's good, then. I'd hate to think you might be going senile. Five thousand years is a long time, after all.”
“Impudent whelp.”
She bowed her head in acknowledgement. “To business. I defeat two champions, you release my friends, correct?”
“That is what is usually agreed, yes.”
“One more thing.”
The ancient vampire arched one finely made eyebrow and curled a rose red lip, delicately. “You are hardly in a position to make conditions.”
“A clarification only.”
“Which is?” they were standing almost nose to nose now; Tia's humanoid form was taller than Yoz', so she had to tilt her head back slightly to look her in the eye, still without changing her relaxed stance. The vampire was looking down her nose at the shorter Mage, lip still curled in disgust as though she smelled bad; the general impression was that Yoz had just crawled out from under a rock, and Tia was having to exert all her considerable good breeding to avoid simply squashing her like a bug.
“Do you release one when I defeat your first champion?”
“You will not.”
“If I do.”
Tia laughed coldly, the sound sending a shiver down Yoz' back. “Alright then, whelp. Should you defeat my first champion, I will release one of your friends. But you get to choose which one.”
Yoz inclined her head once more in agreement, and the queen turned her back on her with a snort of disgust, striding back to her raised throne. The vampires all drew back, lining the walls; despite the fact that she hated to see them vanishing out of her peripheral vision, Yoz stood rock still, eyes on the controlling force in the room.
“I see you are prepared,” the voice rang out, “so meet the instrument of your death. I choose the Count de la Pole, for four hundred years unbeaten with his chosen weapons; which I note are the same as yours. How amusing.” A ripple of sound from the assembled undead as they agreed with their queen, deriding Yoz for her foolishness and impetuosity.
Yoz removed her coat, tossing it to the floor behind her, and drew her swords. From behind the dais slowly walked another vampire; poised and self assured, he carried a rapier and main gauche, as did she.
He approached her, and raised his weapons in salute; she did the same, never taking her eyes from the dead, flat expression of her opponent.
“Begin,” rapped Tiamat, settling herself more comfortably on her throne.
They began to circle cautiously, Yoz flicking out her tongue to moisten her suddenly dry lips.
“Nervous?” asked her opponent, in a voice as dry as dust.
“You wish,” replied Yoz cheerfully, as he attacked. A flurry to right and left, grating steel striking sparks and the sound of her breath suddenly harsh in her ears as she parried his attacks with skill and a touch of flair.
“An adept student.”
“Ta.”
He attacked again, probing her defences, looking for weakness; she narrowed her focus of attention, giving him her all as she began to fight not just for her friend's lives, but her own as well. It didn't help when she suddenly became aware of a pressure behind her ears; an irritating little itch that refused to go away despite her efforts to the contrary.
She recognised it; someone - a very clumsy someone - was attempting to make telepathic contact with her. She had a good guess who it was; her room, doubtless worried about her, had let Pete in and guided him to the relevant grimoire. He had read what he needed to do, and was attempting to do it.
“Not now, O’Reilly,” she hissed between her teeth, barely blocking a swift attack.
“Distractions?”
“Yeah, don't you just hate 'em?” she grinned at the Count, baring her teeth in an approximation of amusement.
She buried her attention in the fight, light on her feet, boots scraping on the sand; the sweat was beginning to run down her face, making her flowing silk cling to her body but not slowing her down in the slightest.
“You tire.”
“You wish.”
And he came at her again - and again - and once more, testing her to the limit.
:Yoz? Can you hear me?:
:Not now, Pete:
Thrust and parry, breathing hard now, clash of swords and scrape of boots in the sand.
:Hey, it works:
:Hell of a time to make the discovery:
She broke through his guard, slicing his dagger hand and rendering it useless. He drew back, frowning; she pressed the attack and drove him onto the defence with only one weapon to shield himself.
:Where are you?:
She swore under her breath as she saw the wound healing itself; a vampiric power that could prove to be very inconvenient, in the long run. It meant that unless she got him square in the heart, then he would heal and be as good as new; the same could not be said for her, rapid healing or not.
:Next page, read the next page!:
Even if she could defeat this champion, she knew that Tiamat would be angry enough to cheat next time. If Pete could read and understand the instructions in the book, and if her friends could get here in time…well, she still had to win this round.
They fought on, watched in stony silence by the small crowd of vampires lining the walls. Ian and Vic stared dully at the battle; they had no interest in the outcome as yet, because Tia held their minds in her fist; only Stephen, who had once loved the little Mage, bit his lip and wondered where his loyalties truly lay.
Finally, she slipped and failed to parry a single swift stroke. His blade bit across her shoulder; at the sight and smell of the blood the crowd moaned and shivered forward a pace; the queen ordered them back with a single word, sharp and commanding.
:Got it. On our way:
:Hurry. If you ever loved me, hurry!:
Rolling to her feet, she crossed her blades above her head and blocked a downward blow that would, had it connected, have taken her head clean off.
She couldn't cheat. While Tia appeared to observe the forms, she had to as well; knowing that the queen didn't intend to let anyone leave this cavern who wasn't already a vampire didn't matter, not right now.
The count drew back, allowing her time to get to her feet. She cocked an eyebrow in surprise; Tiamat was also taken off guard, if the words she spat across the echoingly empty space were anything to go by. The ancient Count inclined his head to Yoz, and his next words would, had he been alive, undoubtedly have been kindly delivered.
“She is a worthy opponent; and I am no slaughterman, my Queen.”
She saluted her thanks, and they began to circle once again, each looking for a weakness, a gap; thinking hard, Yoz knew that she had one advantage over the master swordsman that he may not realise.
Creativity.
The stasis that bound all the dead things in the cavern did not affect her; his skills, vast and sharply honed as they were, as sharp as the blades he wielded, couldn't change. All he could do was select the appropriate response to each of her moves, not come up with anything new.
:We're here. Give us a minute:
Time for the endgame, then.
She attacked, flinging her energies into what appeared to be, to those watching, a final, desperate attack. She pressed into her opponent, and his flat, dead eyes watched her closely, anticipating each move and swiping them aside almost negligently. Banking everything on her last move, she flung herself forward but instead of the thrust he was expecting Yoz dropped to her knees, sliding forward in the sand and striking upwards with almost the last of her strength. His sword missed its intended target, the centre of her chest; it slid straight through her shoulder instead, making her shout with pain and, ultimately, triumph.
The ancient vampire's eyes widened in shock as he looked down at his own chest; he briefly fingered her rapier where it entered his clothing, and bestowed upon her a tentative smile.
“Finally…” he breathed, as she gave the blade the final twist that pierced his heart and showered her with his dust as he disintegrated explosively above her.
Collapsing to hands and knees, she coughed out a lungful of his powder, spat, and sat up on her knees. Carefully taking the vampire's blade in her hands, she gritted her teeth and pulled it free, swearing sulfurously as the pain ripped through her. Staggering to her feet, she raised both blades in salute to the furious queen upon her carved throne, and grinned.
“My game, I think.”
Tiamat was too angry to speak. Yoz could feel the ripples of emotion coming from the powerful creature before her, and hoped like hell she would stick to her own rules for just a little longer. The queen nodded, and gestured sharply to the two men chained before her. The question was clear; which one?
Yoz took a long, long look at her adversary, noting the elegantly painted mouth was now drawn tight and hard, no longer the delicate rosebud of earlier; she wondered just how long she had before the horde were ordered to tear her to pieces. She took a breath, painfully, and straightened further, pointing her blade to her choice.
“That one.”
Ian staggered to his feet, swearing; brought up short by the chain around wrists and throat, all he could do was splutter furiously.
“What the fuck -”
“Let him go,” snapped the Mage, gesturing with her sword. Tia motioned with her hand, and the chains fell to the floor in fragments. He staggered back, crashing into Yoz and spinning around in confusion.
“Yoz?”
“The very same. You done any Kendo?”
“A while ago, but -”
“No time. I would suggest you remember it, though.” She passed him the vampire's blade and drew her own dagger once more.
“But -”
“I'm the good guys, the other ones in black are the bad guys. Got it?”
Shaking his head at her, he nevertheless positioned himself at her side, ready to fight if he had to.
“Whatever.”
“Good man.”
:We're in the passage:
:Good. Stay there:
:But -:
:Ian's free. Now shut up and wait:
“What did she say?” hissed Alan, looking around nervously. He was determined to help as much as he could, but all this waiting was getting on his nerves.
“She's busy,” grumbled Pete, rubbing his forehead and frowning. This telepathy lark was hard work.
Yoz faced down the Queen, expression immobile. “Pick a champion, lady. You still have one of my friends. And I am not leaving without him.”
The vampire sat straight in her throne, taloned hands gripping the arms so tightly her knuckles showed dead white through the papery skin. She appeared to be having trouble maintaining her form; there was the sense of an altogether more bestial shape raging beneath the skin of the beautiful woman sitting like a statue before them.
“So, that one'll be in charge, then?” whispered Ian in Yoz' ear.
“Yeah. Ssh.”
For a moment - a single, furious moment - she lost control of her appearance. Even Yoz flinched back briefly from the glimpse of angry, torrid flesh that briefly reared over them, like a huge cobra-headed slug made of fleshy tendrils and filthy cloud. The projection of Tiamat's true shape was soon vanquished; from what Yoz had learned it wasn't a form she could hold in this reality anyway, not for more than a few microseconds at a time. Something to do with the physics not being right.
It had affected more than a few of the vampires, though. Her anger flaring so brightly had scorched the ones standing too close; mewling heaps of torn flesh were all that remained. Tia glared out from under a tousled fringe at her adversary, slowly gaining control until the shredded remains of her footsoldiers stopped twitching. Vic, thankfully, appeared to be unhurt.
“That's better, lady,” smiled Yoz brightly. “Now, to business. Kindly bring on your next champion.”
Tia straightened, narrowing eyes that suddenly glowed blood red.
:Be ready: Yoz warned Pete through their link.
“Right, looks like it's all about to kick off in there,” hissed Pete to the others, “when I say go, we go. Got it?”
White faced, Andy and Alan nodded, tightening their hold on the weapon they had dragged with them into the passageway.
“As all vampires are one vampire,” Tia rolled grandly, “then I choose that one vampire as my champion.” She opened her mouth in a wide smile, showing a massive gape like that of a snake, lined with razor sharp fangs, “begin.”
“Oh shit,” muttered Ian as the wall of vampires began to close on them, murder in mind.
:NOW:
“Go!” shouted Pete, and threw his weight into the hurriedly jury-rigged shoulder harness of the generator. Andy hit the electric start, and it caught with a roar; he then added his pulling power to Pete's, accelerating their progress considerably. Alan ran beside them, freeing his part of the equipment and ensuring he had a tight grip for when they entered the cave.
Ian and Yoz stood back to back, holding swords low, ready to defend each other to the death if need be. Surrounded by a closing circle of vampires, their time was clearly short.
“Hell of a way to die,” snorted Ian, swinging the tip of his blade at a particularly adventurous female. She snarled and slunk back into the line, which advanced ever closer.
“I can think of worse,” grinned Yoz, shaking her head to flip a sweat-soaked length of hair from her face.
Ian opened his mouth to answer, but whatever he had been about to say was lost in the war-cries of two Northern boys and a beserker scream from the Celt. The vampires, as one, turned to see what was happening; when Yoz realised what was going on, she let out a delighted whoop.
“Go PETE! Ian?”
“What?”
“Get down.”
And she grabbed the back of his neck, dragging him to the floor and covering his body with her own even as she prepared the mental strike that would smash Tia’s hold permanently - once she was sufficiently distracted.
Alan stuck the pole he was holding into the ground as Pete and Andy dragged the generator to a halt, and closed his eyes. “Now!”
Pete flipped a switch, shut his own eyes and groped in his pocket for a small pair of goggles; Andy already had his on, and passed a pair to Alan.
“Remember,” Pete yelled over the noise of the generator and the squeals of vampires beginning to explode into flame, “it won't be enough to finish 'em off immediately, so if any of them start to come this way then be ready.”
In the end, it was an unnecessary precaution. There were only two ways out of the cavern; a small door leading into the mountain, which Tia and several of her closest guard took, escaping with a minor scorching; and the main passageway to the outside, which was blocked by Pete and his portable sunlamp. It didn't take long for the smaller doorway to be blocked by burning debris, and the screams slowly subsided as one by one the attacking vampires were incinerated. Not a pleasant way to die; even though he knew what they had done to him, his friends and his lover Pete still found it hard to stand fast and watch these creatures thrash and beg for mercy as they slowly burned to death.
Wedging the lamp in place, Pete ran over to where Yoz and Ian huddled on the cavern floor, two pairs of goggles in hand. Alan headed for Vic, struggling against his chains and swearing about the bright light.
“Here,” Pete gasped, passing a pair each to his lover and his friend. As soon as they were on, he swept her up in his arms, swinging her around and kissing her exuberantly. She yelped briefly with the pain of her shoulder, but hugged and kissed him back just as enthusiastically.
“You did it! Pete, you did it! Ultraviolet light! You're a fucking genius!”
“Yeah. But it's your friend in Guildford you've got to thank.”
Yoz leaned back in his arms, legs still wrapped firmly around his waist, and raised both eyebrows. “Moira?”
“Aye,” grinned Alan, approaching them with a very confused Vic, “or rather, her new man.”
“What?”
“She faxed through an idea he'd had for destroying younger vamps, complete with diagrams and everything…”
“And Pete remembered the genny in the outhouse, for power cuts. Turned out Ellen's boy has been keeping it fuelled and greased and ready to go since Pete bought it,” added Andy, grinning madly.
“On a whim, I might add,” chuckled Alan.
“How’d you get here so fast?” She asked him, leaning in for another tight hug.
“Ah, now that,” grinned Alan, “was blind luck. Not long after you vanished we got the fax; we sorted the gear out and loaded the Landy to keep Pete’s mind off…stuff.”
“And then, because he was being a bloody nuisance fretting,” added Andy cheerfully, “he went and got into your room. The rest is history, I guess.”
Yoz slid down her lover and leaned on him heavily. “D'you think we can continue this conversation at home?” she asked plaintively, “because, for some reason, every time we get together I seem to get the shit kicked out of me.”
They all snorted with laughter, a little delirious.
“What about the lamp?” Asked Alan, giving the portable sunbed an affectionate pat.
“Leave it here,” grinned Yoz, “it'll give the buggers something to think about if they try to follow us through the hill.”
“The generator should run till daylight,” added Andy, “so we can pick the stuff up in the morning.”
Turning to leave, the six of them began to file out, leaning on each other and letting the occasional hysterical cackle get the better of them.
“Just one thing,” asked Vic of Alan, as he helped him to scramble up into the narrow
passageway.
“Yeah?”
“What the fuck is going on?”
“Tell you later.”
Yoz straightened herself as she looked up the short slope where she knew the entrance to Tiamat's lair was. She looked down at her feet, inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly, giving herself a little shake. “Well, c'mon boots. We've got a long way to go tonight. Best we get started.” Looking back up the slope, she turned her head to the west, watching the last rays of the sun subside behind the hills before assuming a fierce expression, and setting off.
By the time she reached the entrance to the cavern, no-one would have realised that she'd had a moment of…reflection…a little further down the hill. She stopped in front of what would have appeared, to a person with normal sight, to be a blank wall; draped with ivy and lichen, it appeared as immovable and permanent as the mountains themselves. She placed both hands on her hips and assumed a confident sneer.
“So, you gonna let me in or what?”
The illusion flickered and faded, revealing her erstwhile lover on the other side of it, standing gravely beside a man-sized opening in the rock.
“Chapman.”
“Yolanda.”
“You haven't changed a bit, you know. Eighteen forever.”
He bowed, dipping his head low before straightening and facing her, looking directly into her eyes with grief written all over his face. “You have.”
“It's called ageing. But you'll never experience it, will you?”
“Yoz.…”
“Let's go. I've got some friends to free.”
Sweeping past him, she strode swiftly down the corridor that plunged into the hill, coat flaring behind her like a piece of the night itself. Steve tried to catch her up, almost having to hop as she had taken a direct midline, forcing him into the walls if he tried to walk beside her. In the end, he had to settle for trotting one pace behind her.
“You've come armed.”
“No projectile weapons. I know the rules, friend.”
“She won't let you win.”
“So I've seen.”
“And you're still here?” he pulled up in shock before shouting down the corridor after her. “You're insane!”
She skidded to a halt before whirling around to face him. “Yeah? Y'think? You ain't seen nothing yet, my friend.”
They glared at each other.
“Besides,” she added quietly, “I'm not the one who gave up life because I was afraid to die. I know where my soul is going,” she smiled nastily at him, “and I'm still prepared to give up my life for my friends. How's that for crazy?”
He never got to give an answer, because at that moment the deep, oily, but nevertheless utterly compelling voice that belonged to the ancient, desiccated creature known as the Queen of the Vampires rolled up the hollow corridor.
“Children,” it intoned, with a hint of amusement, “come now. I don't have all night. And neither do you.”
Yoz whirled on her heel and resumed her stride along the corridor. Shaking down his mane of dark hair, Stephen followed reluctantly. “You're mad.”
“And you're already dead, so shut the fuck up.”
Yoz strode calmly into the centre of a large, sand floored cavern, its arched ceiling clearly a mixture of natural formation and the handiwork of man - or rather, sentient forces. After all, standing in the very centre of a large number of Eire's vampire population it would be unwise, she thought wryly, to make too many assumptions. She stood calmly at a parade ease, hands loosely folded behind her back, feet shoulder width apart, back straight and head high.
“My lady,” she addressed the creature before her, seated on a raised dais in the middle of the far wall, her carved wooden throne surrounded by a contingent of heavily muscled and highly competent looking vampires. Stephen paused by her shoulder.
“See?” he whispered, “you're crazy.”
She inclined her head to him and smiled. “Thanks for the tip. Now fuck off,” she murmured.
Shaking his head, the young man rejoined his queen, moving to stand at her left.
“Yolanda,” the creature intoned, with a smile. She moved to stand, and the row of men in front of her moved to the sides; Yoz controlled her breathing when she saw what the bulk of the bodies had been concealing.
Ian and Vic, in chains, kneeling in front of the throne. They wore no shirts, but had on the same black trousers and boots that the rest of the contingent did; she must be planning to induct them into the ranks after I'm dead, thought Yoz grimly. He's right. I know I studied the time streams, but even so…I really must be insane.
She smiled slowly. But then, if I am? Why then, I have nothing to lose.
“You smile,” purred the queen again, stepping down from the dais and approaching her enemy, flanked by a single vampire.
“I do. Looking forward to defeating you and reclaiming my friends, in accordance with your own rules.”
“And if I choose not to let them go?”
Yoz shrugged. “Hey, you made the rules, not me. If you're a pathological liar what am I to do about it?”
Tia stiffened, anger flashing across her face. “I do not lie.”
“Really? That's good, then. I'd hate to think you might be going senile. Five thousand years is a long time, after all.”
“Impudent whelp.”
She bowed her head in acknowledgement. “To business. I defeat two champions, you release my friends, correct?”
“That is what is usually agreed, yes.”
“One more thing.”
The ancient vampire arched one finely made eyebrow and curled a rose red lip, delicately. “You are hardly in a position to make conditions.”
“A clarification only.”
“Which is?” they were standing almost nose to nose now; Tia's humanoid form was taller than Yoz', so she had to tilt her head back slightly to look her in the eye, still without changing her relaxed stance. The vampire was looking down her nose at the shorter Mage, lip still curled in disgust as though she smelled bad; the general impression was that Yoz had just crawled out from under a rock, and Tia was having to exert all her considerable good breeding to avoid simply squashing her like a bug.
“Do you release one when I defeat your first champion?”
“You will not.”
“If I do.”
Tia laughed coldly, the sound sending a shiver down Yoz' back. “Alright then, whelp. Should you defeat my first champion, I will release one of your friends. But you get to choose which one.”
Yoz inclined her head once more in agreement, and the queen turned her back on her with a snort of disgust, striding back to her raised throne. The vampires all drew back, lining the walls; despite the fact that she hated to see them vanishing out of her peripheral vision, Yoz stood rock still, eyes on the controlling force in the room.
“I see you are prepared,” the voice rang out, “so meet the instrument of your death. I choose the Count de la Pole, for four hundred years unbeaten with his chosen weapons; which I note are the same as yours. How amusing.” A ripple of sound from the assembled undead as they agreed with their queen, deriding Yoz for her foolishness and impetuosity.
Yoz removed her coat, tossing it to the floor behind her, and drew her swords. From behind the dais slowly walked another vampire; poised and self assured, he carried a rapier and main gauche, as did she.
He approached her, and raised his weapons in salute; she did the same, never taking her eyes from the dead, flat expression of her opponent.
“Begin,” rapped Tiamat, settling herself more comfortably on her throne.
They began to circle cautiously, Yoz flicking out her tongue to moisten her suddenly dry lips.
“Nervous?” asked her opponent, in a voice as dry as dust.
“You wish,” replied Yoz cheerfully, as he attacked. A flurry to right and left, grating steel striking sparks and the sound of her breath suddenly harsh in her ears as she parried his attacks with skill and a touch of flair.
“An adept student.”
“Ta.”
He attacked again, probing her defences, looking for weakness; she narrowed her focus of attention, giving him her all as she began to fight not just for her friend's lives, but her own as well. It didn't help when she suddenly became aware of a pressure behind her ears; an irritating little itch that refused to go away despite her efforts to the contrary.
She recognised it; someone - a very clumsy someone - was attempting to make telepathic contact with her. She had a good guess who it was; her room, doubtless worried about her, had let Pete in and guided him to the relevant grimoire. He had read what he needed to do, and was attempting to do it.
“Not now, O’Reilly,” she hissed between her teeth, barely blocking a swift attack.
“Distractions?”
“Yeah, don't you just hate 'em?” she grinned at the Count, baring her teeth in an approximation of amusement.
She buried her attention in the fight, light on her feet, boots scraping on the sand; the sweat was beginning to run down her face, making her flowing silk cling to her body but not slowing her down in the slightest.
“You tire.”
“You wish.”
And he came at her again - and again - and once more, testing her to the limit.
:Yoz? Can you hear me?:
:Not now, Pete:
Thrust and parry, breathing hard now, clash of swords and scrape of boots in the sand.
:Hey, it works:
:Hell of a time to make the discovery:
She broke through his guard, slicing his dagger hand and rendering it useless. He drew back, frowning; she pressed the attack and drove him onto the defence with only one weapon to shield himself.
:Where are you?:
She swore under her breath as she saw the wound healing itself; a vampiric power that could prove to be very inconvenient, in the long run. It meant that unless she got him square in the heart, then he would heal and be as good as new; the same could not be said for her, rapid healing or not.
:Next page, read the next page!:
Even if she could defeat this champion, she knew that Tiamat would be angry enough to cheat next time. If Pete could read and understand the instructions in the book, and if her friends could get here in time…well, she still had to win this round.
They fought on, watched in stony silence by the small crowd of vampires lining the walls. Ian and Vic stared dully at the battle; they had no interest in the outcome as yet, because Tia held their minds in her fist; only Stephen, who had once loved the little Mage, bit his lip and wondered where his loyalties truly lay.
Finally, she slipped and failed to parry a single swift stroke. His blade bit across her shoulder; at the sight and smell of the blood the crowd moaned and shivered forward a pace; the queen ordered them back with a single word, sharp and commanding.
:Got it. On our way:
:Hurry. If you ever loved me, hurry!:
Rolling to her feet, she crossed her blades above her head and blocked a downward blow that would, had it connected, have taken her head clean off.
She couldn't cheat. While Tia appeared to observe the forms, she had to as well; knowing that the queen didn't intend to let anyone leave this cavern who wasn't already a vampire didn't matter, not right now.
The count drew back, allowing her time to get to her feet. She cocked an eyebrow in surprise; Tiamat was also taken off guard, if the words she spat across the echoingly empty space were anything to go by. The ancient Count inclined his head to Yoz, and his next words would, had he been alive, undoubtedly have been kindly delivered.
“She is a worthy opponent; and I am no slaughterman, my Queen.”
She saluted her thanks, and they began to circle once again, each looking for a weakness, a gap; thinking hard, Yoz knew that she had one advantage over the master swordsman that he may not realise.
Creativity.
The stasis that bound all the dead things in the cavern did not affect her; his skills, vast and sharply honed as they were, as sharp as the blades he wielded, couldn't change. All he could do was select the appropriate response to each of her moves, not come up with anything new.
:We're here. Give us a minute:
Time for the endgame, then.
She attacked, flinging her energies into what appeared to be, to those watching, a final, desperate attack. She pressed into her opponent, and his flat, dead eyes watched her closely, anticipating each move and swiping them aside almost negligently. Banking everything on her last move, she flung herself forward but instead of the thrust he was expecting Yoz dropped to her knees, sliding forward in the sand and striking upwards with almost the last of her strength. His sword missed its intended target, the centre of her chest; it slid straight through her shoulder instead, making her shout with pain and, ultimately, triumph.
The ancient vampire's eyes widened in shock as he looked down at his own chest; he briefly fingered her rapier where it entered his clothing, and bestowed upon her a tentative smile.
“Finally…” he breathed, as she gave the blade the final twist that pierced his heart and showered her with his dust as he disintegrated explosively above her.
Collapsing to hands and knees, she coughed out a lungful of his powder, spat, and sat up on her knees. Carefully taking the vampire's blade in her hands, she gritted her teeth and pulled it free, swearing sulfurously as the pain ripped through her. Staggering to her feet, she raised both blades in salute to the furious queen upon her carved throne, and grinned.
“My game, I think.”
Tiamat was too angry to speak. Yoz could feel the ripples of emotion coming from the powerful creature before her, and hoped like hell she would stick to her own rules for just a little longer. The queen nodded, and gestured sharply to the two men chained before her. The question was clear; which one?
Yoz took a long, long look at her adversary, noting the elegantly painted mouth was now drawn tight and hard, no longer the delicate rosebud of earlier; she wondered just how long she had before the horde were ordered to tear her to pieces. She took a breath, painfully, and straightened further, pointing her blade to her choice.
“That one.”
Ian staggered to his feet, swearing; brought up short by the chain around wrists and throat, all he could do was splutter furiously.
“What the fuck -”
“Let him go,” snapped the Mage, gesturing with her sword. Tia motioned with her hand, and the chains fell to the floor in fragments. He staggered back, crashing into Yoz and spinning around in confusion.
“Yoz?”
“The very same. You done any Kendo?”
“A while ago, but -”
“No time. I would suggest you remember it, though.” She passed him the vampire's blade and drew her own dagger once more.
“But -”
“I'm the good guys, the other ones in black are the bad guys. Got it?”
Shaking his head at her, he nevertheless positioned himself at her side, ready to fight if he had to.
“Whatever.”
“Good man.”
:We're in the passage:
:Good. Stay there:
:But -:
:Ian's free. Now shut up and wait:
“What did she say?” hissed Alan, looking around nervously. He was determined to help as much as he could, but all this waiting was getting on his nerves.
“She's busy,” grumbled Pete, rubbing his forehead and frowning. This telepathy lark was hard work.
Yoz faced down the Queen, expression immobile. “Pick a champion, lady. You still have one of my friends. And I am not leaving without him.”
The vampire sat straight in her throne, taloned hands gripping the arms so tightly her knuckles showed dead white through the papery skin. She appeared to be having trouble maintaining her form; there was the sense of an altogether more bestial shape raging beneath the skin of the beautiful woman sitting like a statue before them.
“So, that one'll be in charge, then?” whispered Ian in Yoz' ear.
“Yeah. Ssh.”
For a moment - a single, furious moment - she lost control of her appearance. Even Yoz flinched back briefly from the glimpse of angry, torrid flesh that briefly reared over them, like a huge cobra-headed slug made of fleshy tendrils and filthy cloud. The projection of Tiamat's true shape was soon vanquished; from what Yoz had learned it wasn't a form she could hold in this reality anyway, not for more than a few microseconds at a time. Something to do with the physics not being right.
It had affected more than a few of the vampires, though. Her anger flaring so brightly had scorched the ones standing too close; mewling heaps of torn flesh were all that remained. Tia glared out from under a tousled fringe at her adversary, slowly gaining control until the shredded remains of her footsoldiers stopped twitching. Vic, thankfully, appeared to be unhurt.
“That's better, lady,” smiled Yoz brightly. “Now, to business. Kindly bring on your next champion.”
Tia straightened, narrowing eyes that suddenly glowed blood red.
:Be ready: Yoz warned Pete through their link.
“Right, looks like it's all about to kick off in there,” hissed Pete to the others, “when I say go, we go. Got it?”
White faced, Andy and Alan nodded, tightening their hold on the weapon they had dragged with them into the passageway.
“As all vampires are one vampire,” Tia rolled grandly, “then I choose that one vampire as my champion.” She opened her mouth in a wide smile, showing a massive gape like that of a snake, lined with razor sharp fangs, “begin.”
“Oh shit,” muttered Ian as the wall of vampires began to close on them, murder in mind.
:NOW:
“Go!” shouted Pete, and threw his weight into the hurriedly jury-rigged shoulder harness of the generator. Andy hit the electric start, and it caught with a roar; he then added his pulling power to Pete's, accelerating their progress considerably. Alan ran beside them, freeing his part of the equipment and ensuring he had a tight grip for when they entered the cave.
Ian and Yoz stood back to back, holding swords low, ready to defend each other to the death if need be. Surrounded by a closing circle of vampires, their time was clearly short.
“Hell of a way to die,” snorted Ian, swinging the tip of his blade at a particularly adventurous female. She snarled and slunk back into the line, which advanced ever closer.
“I can think of worse,” grinned Yoz, shaking her head to flip a sweat-soaked length of hair from her face.
Ian opened his mouth to answer, but whatever he had been about to say was lost in the war-cries of two Northern boys and a beserker scream from the Celt. The vampires, as one, turned to see what was happening; when Yoz realised what was going on, she let out a delighted whoop.
“Go PETE! Ian?”
“What?”
“Get down.”
And she grabbed the back of his neck, dragging him to the floor and covering his body with her own even as she prepared the mental strike that would smash Tia’s hold permanently - once she was sufficiently distracted.
Alan stuck the pole he was holding into the ground as Pete and Andy dragged the generator to a halt, and closed his eyes. “Now!”
Pete flipped a switch, shut his own eyes and groped in his pocket for a small pair of goggles; Andy already had his on, and passed a pair to Alan.
“Remember,” Pete yelled over the noise of the generator and the squeals of vampires beginning to explode into flame, “it won't be enough to finish 'em off immediately, so if any of them start to come this way then be ready.”
In the end, it was an unnecessary precaution. There were only two ways out of the cavern; a small door leading into the mountain, which Tia and several of her closest guard took, escaping with a minor scorching; and the main passageway to the outside, which was blocked by Pete and his portable sunlamp. It didn't take long for the smaller doorway to be blocked by burning debris, and the screams slowly subsided as one by one the attacking vampires were incinerated. Not a pleasant way to die; even though he knew what they had done to him, his friends and his lover Pete still found it hard to stand fast and watch these creatures thrash and beg for mercy as they slowly burned to death.
Wedging the lamp in place, Pete ran over to where Yoz and Ian huddled on the cavern floor, two pairs of goggles in hand. Alan headed for Vic, struggling against his chains and swearing about the bright light.
“Here,” Pete gasped, passing a pair each to his lover and his friend. As soon as they were on, he swept her up in his arms, swinging her around and kissing her exuberantly. She yelped briefly with the pain of her shoulder, but hugged and kissed him back just as enthusiastically.
“You did it! Pete, you did it! Ultraviolet light! You're a fucking genius!”
“Yeah. But it's your friend in Guildford you've got to thank.”
Yoz leaned back in his arms, legs still wrapped firmly around his waist, and raised both eyebrows. “Moira?”
“Aye,” grinned Alan, approaching them with a very confused Vic, “or rather, her new man.”
“What?”
“She faxed through an idea he'd had for destroying younger vamps, complete with diagrams and everything…”
“And Pete remembered the genny in the outhouse, for power cuts. Turned out Ellen's boy has been keeping it fuelled and greased and ready to go since Pete bought it,” added Andy, grinning madly.
“On a whim, I might add,” chuckled Alan.
“How’d you get here so fast?” She asked him, leaning in for another tight hug.
“Ah, now that,” grinned Alan, “was blind luck. Not long after you vanished we got the fax; we sorted the gear out and loaded the Landy to keep Pete’s mind off…stuff.”
“And then, because he was being a bloody nuisance fretting,” added Andy cheerfully, “he went and got into your room. The rest is history, I guess.”
Yoz slid down her lover and leaned on him heavily. “D'you think we can continue this conversation at home?” she asked plaintively, “because, for some reason, every time we get together I seem to get the shit kicked out of me.”
They all snorted with laughter, a little delirious.
“What about the lamp?” Asked Alan, giving the portable sunbed an affectionate pat.
“Leave it here,” grinned Yoz, “it'll give the buggers something to think about if they try to follow us through the hill.”
“The generator should run till daylight,” added Andy, “so we can pick the stuff up in the morning.”
Turning to leave, the six of them began to file out, leaning on each other and letting the occasional hysterical cackle get the better of them.
“Just one thing,” asked Vic of Alan, as he helped him to scramble up into the narrow
passageway.
“Yeah?”
“What the fuck is going on?”
“Tell you later.”
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Date: 2007-10-29 03:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-29 03:34 am (UTC)