Astarte's Wrath (Kythan Guardians 0.50)

My eyes sweep the city for any sign of the Leymak, but now that their leader has been destroyed, they’ve fled. Vanished. But if they’re in this world somewhere, I’ll find them.

Just like I’ll find Lunia.

For now, I sharpen my vision, locating each Narcolym below. If not for their treachery, the queen’s army wouldn’t have lost the war, and the Shythe wouldn’t be roaming the deserts like exiles. And Xarion—

I force my eyes closed. The memory of his emerald gaze seeking mine right before Candra took his life cuts into me like a dagger. Clutching my chest with a white-illumed hand, I send a jolt into my heart, pushing the ache deeper—fueling my veins with my sorrow.

Later. I can mourn him later. At this moment, all others who played a role in the fall of Egypt must pay.

From my perch on Sekhmet’s shoulder, I watch the soldiers scramble like ants, fleeing the Flame of the Narcos. I brace my blood-soiled sandaled feet on her solid stone and stand tall, my back straight, my skin lit with the celestial ultimate power.

Then I call down on the city. “Traitors!” My voice rumbles, like the goddess herself is speaking from the heavens. “You. Are. Dead.”

Leaping off the statue, I descend to the earth and land with a thunderous boom, the limestone cracking beneath my feet. The combat ceases: swords held mid-swipe; blood halting mid-fall; Flame pausing mid-flicker.

But time has not stopped. I move faster than time.

My fist meets the side of a Narco’s face and his cheek shatters, his bones splintering under the impact. An arc of white light links the tips of my fingers to five torsos. The Narcos convulse, their skin melting from their bones like candlewax. Fitting, I think.

In a flash of blurred movements, I slice through the battle, decimating every Narco along my cut route. I’m not intent on Octavian’s legions, though I feel little pity when their demise is met by my hands. They are dead regardless. This whole city is.

My feet splash through puddles of crimson, and I think back on the Sekhmet feast. Xarion’s arms around me. His warm breath caressing my skin. The chills covering me from his laughter.

I scream.

I unleash my pain on the brawny Narco—the one who slowed my attempt to get to Xarion in the temple.

His bulging arms are lit with his red Flame, the veins beneath his skin thick molten rivers. His eyes widen as I come at him, and he does try to fight. His mass and strength give him false confidence that he may even win.

He should run.

Using the winds to lift me, I meet his flaming eyes straight on, then drive my fist into his chest. The hard muscle gives like papyrus as I tear through his breastbone. His sputtering pleas annoy me, so I rip out his heart to silence him. I toss it to the earth. My foot smashes it into the street before I move toward the next traitor.

The Narcos and soldiers scurry out of my path like cockroaches fleeing the light. My light. I glow with the wrath of the goddess, and I punish all. Just like The Eye of Ra, my bloodlust cannot be sated. Not until every guilty soul has paid.

And as I’m about to end another foolish Narco who thinks herself strong enough to defeat a goddess, a whisper comes to me on the ocean breeze. It stills my hand, my breathing, and my thoughts.

“Xarion . . .?”

The blood and battle and pain fades away as my body hovers toward the silky voice calling my name. My mind blanks at the impossibility, but I don’t care. I’ll gladly welcome the madness if it means I can see him once more—even in death.

Near the harbor, a faint form shimmers into existence, and my heart bangs against the wall of my chest. “Xarion!” And I’m running. I’m to him in a blink, my feet having never touched the ground.

He looks the same, as if he was never taken fro

m me, as if he’s only been away at the palace. “Tell me you’re real,” I plead, reaching my hand toward his smooth face.

“I’m waiting for you.” He presses his palm over my hand, and I shudder at his touch. A hot tear burns a trail down my cheek. “But you can’t meet me yet.”

“No,” I whimper, my body wracked with tremors. Then I can see the difference; his Akh radiates pure light. “Together, forever, remember? I’ll come to you now. I’ll hurl myself into the ocean and be at the gates of the underworld this minute—”

“You must stop, Star.” His hands go to my nape, his fingers sliding into my hair. I imprint his touch. “You can’t become this.” His eyes flicker over the destruction I’ve caused, and a pang hits my chest. “The anger and hatred and vengeance—release it. It will only destroy you, and I need you.”

I nod, over and over. “I’m coming.”

He shakes his head. “I need you to live.” A smile stretches his beautiful lips as his hand moves toward my waist. Then his palm settles on the swell of my belly.

Realization slams my heart, and I press my lips to his—steal this one touch—but he begins to dim. Panic flares as I try to hold on to him. The power demands to take me, and I fade, blackness covering my vision. Xarion’s whispered words of love echo through my mind as I drift away.