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New Tricks

Chapter 77

Azrian flew against the stars, her red tail flowing smoothly behind her. Hildrith'el had given her clothing before she departed: a long white gown, sleeveless, with a white hood she kept pulled over her mane. Her red wings extended from the back of the gown, and the skirts were slit up the thighs, making for easy movement. On her hip was also the glass dagger she had sought in the Palace of Light. It hung off her gold belt, pulling the belt lower on one side as she soared higher and higher to the stars.

Aonre was still large behind Azrian. She could see the little blue world wreathed in clouds, turning so slowly its rotation was barely noticeable. Etienne was somewhere down there. And Hellene. She still meant to go back, still meant to deal with Hellene. But she had to put her world someplace safe first. She had to begin her world, because so long as it remained a seed of light, it could be crushed. And Hildrith'el had not promised her another.

"There's no going back if you do this," said a voice.

Azrian's ears pricked forward, standing from the ear holes in her hood. She opened her empty eye socket, and turning her head, she could see the golden light of Skkye streaming across the red vixen who had helped her before. The vixen was standing on a cloud, wearing a flowing white gown, her hazel eyes sad, her red mane blowing in an ethereal breeze.

Azrian fluttered to a stop and stared at the visitor. "Where have you been? You told me you were in Skkye, but I never saw you there."

"Never mind," the vixen said. "What are you doing with that star?" She nodded at Azrian's closed fist.

"I'm going to make it a world, of course. I didn't fly out here to have lunch with it."

The visitor frowned sadly. "You won't be able to return to Aonre."

"I know," Azrian said softly.

"Is that really what you want?"

"Of course not. But someone has to help my kin. If the gods won't do it, I will."

The visitor smiled. "I am so very proud of you, my girl." She started to fade.

Azrian shook her head. "But who are you? Wait --!"

But the visitor dissolved to nothing. And no matter how many times Azrian opened and closed her empty eye socket, she could not see her.

Azrian turned away. The little seed of light was in her fist. She lifted her fist to her chin and slowly opened it. The seed hovered there, setting her golden eye and the tip of her pink nose aglow with its yellow fire. And she remembered what Hildrith'el had called her. She was not only the child of water. She was the child of light, too. She took a breath and blew on the seed . . . and stardust scattered across the black sky.

Azrian hovered on her wings, watching with her lips parted in awe as the light danced and swirled, flew apart and collected, until it was a whirling ball of golden light, blazing like the sun. The shining globe rose higher and higher, swelled larger and fuller, until it obscured the dark sky and winking stars, until the heat of it slapped her face like steam.

Azrian soared high and watched from above as her tiny seed of light became a monolithic ball of yellow flame. It spun slowly on the spot, snaking over with little rivers, dipping with valleys and rising with mountains, sprouting trees, cracking with canyons, yawning with chasms. Her world was taking shape before her very eyes, and its light reflected down to Aonre in the form of a long, golden bridge. Azrian smiled. The foxes would see the light. And they would come.

"Proud of yourself?" snarled a voice.

Azrian spun to see Hellene barreling her way on glowing wings of fire. Her black dress was torn, and the great skirts had come off in tatters, so that Azrian could see her white underwear as she sped along. Her red mane was loose and flying, slapping across eyes that read murder as she came. She pulled herself up as she was upon Azrian and drew back her fist. Azrian deftly caught her fist, and they glared at each other.

"Ready to lose the other one?" Hellene hissed.

"Sorry," Azrian panted back, "I don't care for exchanging witty retorts."

Azrian shoved. Hellene flew back and hovered, glaring at Azrian and panting. She came again. Azrian blocked and followed up with a uppercut to her face. Hellene spit blood as she reeled from the blow. She spread her wings and wheeled around, trailing red fire across the stars as she swooped down on Azrian and brought her nails across her cheek with a wild scream. Azrian spun from the blow, but as she was turning, she pulled the glass dagger and slashed Hellene viciously across the face with it. Hellene's agonized scream tore across the sky. She clutched her face, and they hovered, glaring at each other.

Far below, Aonre was trembling violently. Azrian could hear the rumbling, and she realized that every time she and Hellene struck each other . . . an earthquake happened on Aonre. She would have to make this quick. With her golden eye glinting, she twirled the dagger back and forth, and they circled, sizing each other up.

"It's stupid," Hellene snarled, "to think you can create another world and the foxes will just hold paws and sing. They are going to drown_in their own _blood!"

Azrian grabbed Hellene by the mane and snatched her close. "If it's so stupid, why are you trying to stop me!" She brought Hellene's face down and her knee up, and she felt the dog's nose shatter on it. Hot blood oozed over her knee as Hellene's muffled cry vibrated over her leg.

With her face still in Azrian's knee, Hellene grabbed Azrian by the leg and tossed her down. As Azrian tumbled through the sky, she could see Hellene wobbling in a daze and spitting blood, trying to get her bearings. She shook her head and lunged down after Azrian. They grabbed each other and tumbled across the stars. Azrian brought the dagger back to stab, but Hellene caught her wrist and shoved her off.

Azrian's breasts heaved and she lunged. Hellene laughed and blocked her easily. Azrian came at her. Again. And again. And far below, Aonre was roaring as the earth split, as trees collapsed and sank into chasms. Azrian could see clouds of dust rising, could hear mountains trembling with avalanches.

Hellene saw it too and scowled. "You stupid slut!" she shouted, and Azrian choked a scream when the dog's heel came up and kicked her in the stomach. She flipped back as Hellene soared after her, shouting, "Look at the mess that's happening down there! And all because you want to play savior to a bunch of murdering savages!"

"You're the only _savage_I see!"

Azrian righted herself in time to block Hellene's fist. Hellene struck again. Azrian blocked again. Hellene screamed in fury and her fingers licked with sudden flames. She grabbed Azrian by the face, and Azrian wailed as fire snaked hot through her mane. She closed her eyes and summoned water, and the fire hissed out. Hellene screamed in fury again.

"So the daughter of the water has new tricks!" the princess mocked, flying a quick circle around Azrian. "They aren't enough to save you! Nothing can quench the Child of Rage!"

Azrian caught Hellene quick by the neck. "This can," she whispered -- and plunged the dagger in Hellene's heart.

Hellene choked as black blood blossomed around the blade. She looked at Azrian with tears in her eyes, her lip trembled, and Azrian was reminded of Hellene sobbing back at Wychowl, sobbing and moaning and drawing sympathy from the court as her attacker was put to trial. Even now, she looked like a pitiful child, wide-eyed and confused as to what she had done to earn that blade. Azrian decided to clear it up for her.

"This," Azrian whispered, tightening her ringers on the hilt, "is for Primus." She wrenched the dagger to the side, and Hellene screamed. Azrian ripped the dagger free and watched as blood sprayed across the sky.

It worked. Hellene's wings of fire disappeared, as did the rest of her magic: she was mortal. She clutched frantically at herself, her panicked eyes dancing back and forth. Without her wings, she immediately sank away, dropping toward Aonre, until she was a small screaming blot in the distance.