"What just happened?" Senrii shouted at Morvin.

The legionnaire, binoculars crawling on his eyes, stared up at the entryway through which Tvorh had disappeared a few minutes earlier. "I don't know, Ductrix," he said. "But it's sealed."

"Tvorh, can you hear me?" Senrii shouted, hoping Tvorh's powerful ears would catch her words.

"I'm here," came his muffled reply.

"What are you doing, you numbskull?"

"I found the Tool."

"We already found--"

"The center. The core of it. The person at the center."

Was that how they did it those days? Did they actually leave the kernels exposed in the Last Era? What were they, insane? "And?"

"I tried to unlock it using my blood. I don't think it worked."

"Neuter it, Tvorh. You should have waited for the inquirer team."

Legatus Morvin raised an eyebrow as he worked to get a rope set for climbing.

"I've got a problem," Tvorh said.

Aoife, who was a few feet away, started. Senrii waved frantically to the legionnaires to hurry their belaying preparations. "Don't worry. We'll get you out of there."

"Uh. I think it's going to eat me."

"Come again?"

"The walls are closing in. It's going to crush me."

Senrii glanced aside at Aoife, who looked stricken. "We've gotta blast through," Senrii said to the legionnaires.

Tvorh's voice crackled on the shortsphere. "No! Don't."

"We have to hurry, Tvorh."

"I know. But if this thing was built with safety in mind--"

"They have an exposed kernel and it's trying to eat you, Tvorh. I don't think 'safety' is really in the cards."

"But if it was--"

"It's not!"

"But if it was, then it would have to fail safely. If it died."

"You can't kill the kernel."

"Why not?"

"Because we don't know if it'll work! Besides, if those really are stasis chambers"--and Senrii was pretty sure they were--"it might kill whoever's inside them."

"Better them than me. How are you going to get them out safely if I don't? My blood was our best bet."

Senrii didn't have an answer for that. "All right," she grumbled. "You're authorized to use deadly force."

"As if I needed your approval."

"You're talking about killing an ancient Tool here in my Duchy, Tvorh. Of course you do."

"Technically, we're in the Wildlands. And I don't need your permission to keep on breathing, Senrii. I'm doing it."

Senrii sighed. There was nothing to do now but wait.

***

"Sorry about this," Tvorh said quietly. "You deserve to live, too. But since it's you or me..."

It was already starting to get cramped in here. Tvorh leaned forward, hanging closely to the Tool, so closely that its face was mere inches from his. "Here goes nothing," he whispered, and called on his SOPHIOS.

Naphthgel filled his hand. Tvorh slammed his palm against the head of the Tool, smearing the viscous fluid over its pate and face. Then he scrambled off the throne and crawled as far back as he could.

The Tool loosed an all-too-human scream as the gel burst into flame. It thrashed and wriggled, but the gel held fast, burning away moss and leaves and then skin. Smoke, acrid with the stench of burning human flesh, filled the ever-shrinking room.

Tvorh took a single deep breath and vacuum-sealed himself.

With all of his orifices closed, he couldn't hear; and if he couldn't hear, he couldn't see. All he could do was hunker down and wait as deep rumbles shook the tree.

Through the wood he felt cracks forming. The ceiling that had been touching his head, pressing down against him, split in half and retreated away to either side.

The chamber lurched, and he tumbled, impacting against the floor and walls and ceiling. Then the air changed around him, and he wasn't hitting anything anymore. He released the vacuum-seal STIGMOS just in time to confirm that he was, in fact, falling end over end through the air just above Senrii and the escort. There was no time for wings.

Tvorh twisted in the air. Musculoskeleture.

He crashed into the ground. The shock reverberated through his feet, his legs, his knees, all the way up his spine. But he held fast. Once he was sure that he was still alive, he stood to his feet and grinned. "Hey, Senrii--"

Senrii crashed into him, carrying him away from his landing point and rolling him over and over on the ground as a chunk of flaming wood came down right where he had been standing.

"Idiot!" Senrii said, smacking him on the head as they stood.

"Sorry."

Then she flung her arms around him and squeezed him so tightly that he was sure she'd cracked a rib. Not that he minded. Not expected, sure. But not minded, either.

Senrii held him out at arm's length. "Number one rule for leaping from high places?"

"Don't get killed."

"Because?"

"Because your dad would never let you hear the end of it?"

"Attaboy. Now, let's--"

"Ductrix," Morvin said. He was staring down the length of his rifle at the arcing ledge above them. Senrii followed his aim. A bulb there was unfurling.

Another of the legionnaires took aim at the next bulb in line. The petals of it, too, were pulling away from their center.

"Tvorh--"

"I hear all of them giving way."

"Failing safely," Senrii said. "How many?"

Tvorh paused for a moment to count. "Thirty around the edges of the room, maybe? Another ten down here."

"What's inside them?"

"Uh..."

"Tvorh? What do you hear?"

"People."

The odor of rotten eggs...

"Not people, Ductrix!" Morvin said. The sound of gunshots blinded Tvorh.

"Chimeras!" Aoife shouted. She drew her pistol and loosed upward.

"Of course they're Chimeras." Senrii said through gritted teeth. "If the people of the Last Era had to put anything asleep for millennia, it would be Chimeras. Because that would just be so helpful."

Tvorh drew his knife.

Forgebone bullets tore apart three of the beasts before they could even leave their bulbs, but a burst of naphtha from above broke apart the escort's defensive position and left one of their number charred on the ground. Tvorh whipped his knife across the side of a leaping monstrosity that landed next to him, rolled under the sweep of bone talons aimed at his head, and stabbed upward into the belly of a spider-thing.

"Hang together!" he heard Senrii cry. "Don't let 'em pick you off!"

Slash at spindly legs, dodge beneath a shredder's shell worth of spines, blade jammed up through a gaping jaw--

Senrii's breaths came hard and fast from wherever she was. "Get 'em off me!"

A high ululation broke through the sounds of dying men and used-to-be-men, and an angel crashed down into the battlefield right next to Tvorh.

Feathered wings spread from the angel's back as she stood. Long hair swept from a topknot down to her feet, transformed into vipers, and lashed out, grabbing six Chimeras and drawing them inward. The Chimeras twirled into the air like a gigantic six-balled flail, bowling away six more Chimeras unlucky enough to be in the path of their spinning, and Tvorh barely had time to duck in order to avoid getting knocked over himself. The serpents unlatched their jaws and faded back into long, fine locks of hair; centripetal force flung bodies to every end of the chamber.

The angel at the epicenter-- tall, naked, beautiful to Tvorh's ears, her scent an intoxicating lavender, smiled and raised her hand.

The world exploded. A mighty force, a blast of heat and flame, flung Tvorh to the ground. Screams more or less human in tone echoed throughout the cavern as Chimeras flew through the air, collided with one another, the floor, the walls. Arms and legs and more exotic limbs battered Tvorh in passing as he hunkered on the ground; blood and sticky ichor splashed over him.

And then there was silence.

The angel lowered her hand and tossed her head, an expression equal parts casualness and vanity that set her fine hair dancing around her form. Behold your goddess, it seemed to say, and for a moment Tvorh didn't mind the beholding of her. The stench of sulfur was gone, swept under beneath her scent; she smelled so...

So...

Clack. Morvin chambered a round, then pulled up one of the legionnaires from the ground with one hand as he took aim at the angel. "State your name and Gens," he demanded.

Senrii was up on her feet as well. She held her ichor-dripping sword in a defensive posture as she prowled in a wide arc around the intruder.

If the angel was disturbed by these threatening displays, she gave no indication. She merely stood on her tiptoes, reached to her neck, and gave her mane a final flick with the backs of both hands. Then she nodded indulgently to Senrii and spoke.

High Post-Exarchian, again. Now Tvorh was doubly disappointed that he didn't know the language better.

"Have to do better than that," Senrii said. The angel didn't respond; she appeared to be brushing the detritus of the battle from her bare arms and reabsorbing her wings as she did so. Senrii growled. "Hey! Blue bitch! I'm talking to you!"

"Blue bitch"--had Senrii called her that as a literal reference to her color? Sometimes not having eyesight could be a real pain--paused in her grooming, glanced back up at Senrii, and said a few words that Tvorh couldn’t understand.

"Oh, I'm loving this...In case you don't get it, honeycakes, I don't speak that language."

The surviving legionnaires, a half dozen out of the original ten, fanned out around the angel. Senrii was holding her attention. Tvorh was still on the ground. And since he couldn't speak the language, he wasn't going to be any help in proving to Senrii or the escort that this goddess was--

Goddess? What was he thinking? What was he doing? Had he hit his head?

"Speak that language," the angel said, her mellifluous voice the platform that bridged the space of the missing beats of Tvorh's heart. She took a step toward Senrii.

"There we go!" Senrii said. "Something people speak today, please."

"Today, please." The angel rolled the words in her mouth as if trying them out as she took another step in Senrii's direction.

"Unless you're just going to repeat everything I say."

"Repeat everything I say."

"Oh, give me a break."

"Repeat everything I say."

Senrii drew the sword across her body defensively. "Step back, missy."

"Repeat everything I say."

Senrii's eyebrow twitched. "I said--"

"Repeat everything I said."

"Repeat-- what are you--"

"You...repeat everything I say." The angel was inside Senrii's guard now, but Senrii didn't move to strike. The newcomer put a long-nailed hand on the sword near its guard and gave it a considered stare. "You repeat everything I say."

"Repeat-- you repeat--"

"Everything you say." She looked away from the sword, looked back into Senrii's eyes, and nodded her head toward the weapon.

"Sword," Senrii said, her voice catching on the syllable.

"Sword." The angel nodded thoughtfully. "Sword. You?"

"Maga Ductrix Senrii Generosa Orta Nethress."

"Maga Ductrix. Generosa Orta. Senrii Nethress." She stepped back and held out a hand. "Sword."

"Ductrix," Morvin said. "Your orders, Ductrix?"

Tvorh pressed through the fog in his mind. It was impossible to think straight in this room, so close to this woman.

No. Not impossible. Nothing was impossible for him, if he set his mind to it.

Senrii held out the weapon.

"Don't do it, Senrii!" Tvorh cried.

The angel's hand touched Senrii's. Tvorh heard the nerves exit the angel's palm and push into Senrii's flesh. He heard their nervous systems intertwine.

"Tvorh?" Aoife stumbled toward him. "I can't... I can't lift my gun. What's happening?"

Why did the angel smell so good?

The angel's face whipped toward Tvorh and Aoife. Her visage softened into a smile and touched a finger to her lips. Quiet. Tvorh's throat constricted.

The angel coughed slightly and turned her attention back to Senrii's blade. She reached out and gently took hold of the weapon with her free hand.

"Blue bitch," she murmured.

She retracted her nerve-meld from Senrii's hand.

"Bitch."

The angel gripped the handle with both hands, drew back, and rammed the sword into Senrii's gut.

Aoife gasped.

"Senrii!" Tvorh shouted.

"Ductrix!" Gunshots filled the room, but the angel was now a wall of forgebone, and bone bullets shattered on the unnatural growths.

Tvorh leapt to his feet and charged as the bullets stopped flying. The forgebone wall vanished, and the angel reappeared, standing in front of the impaled Ductrix. Senrii had kept her feet, but the shock on her face was plain even to Tvorh's echolocation. She was bent slightly at the waist, and her hands gripped at her gut around the blade.

The angel casually held out a hand toward Tvorh as he rushed her. "Stop."

Tvorh didn't stop. He crashed into the angel, bringing her to the ground.

Her scent... she was so... so beautiful, so...

Murderous.

They rolled end over end, Tvorh trying to find some way to hold her, restrain her, and being frustrated at every turn. His hands slid off of slick, wintry flesh with every grab. "Morvin!" he hollered as they rolled to a stop.

Her long locks wrapped around his wrists and ankles and neck. She slid on top of him, straddling him, and her face was next to his; though he couldn't see it, he could sense its presence, the overwhelming scent of her, and could hear every move she made.

She leaned in closer, brought her nose to his neck, and sniffed.

"Stop it," he heard Aoife moan. She sounded like she was waking from a dream. "Get off him..."

With all of his strength, Tvorh slashed one of his hands at the side of the angel's exposed neck. The blade of his wrist made contact. Her prehensile hair ripped his hand back to the floor as she leaned back and hissed.

She coughed once, and despite the danger he was in, the jiggle that it brought to her breasts excited deep yearnings within his stomach. The moment passed, and then her hands wrapped around his throat.

"Morvin!" Tvorh gurgled as he struggled fruitlessly against her grip.

Her mouth dove for him, and in an instant of blind animal panic, Tvorh was certain that she was intending to bite out his jugular vein. Instead, her wet tongue found the flesh of his neck, and she licked from his collarbone to his earlobe.

The angel sat back and shuddered once. A starburst of ecstatic fragrance burst from her, and she drew her hands up her body, biting her lower lip as she did so.

"Stop... it..." Aoife gasped. "He's... not yours..."

Tvorh wanted the angel. She was a perfect genetic match for him; he could smell it. And here she was, grinding against him, with only a thin skinsuit the barrier between his naked body and hers.

A thin, all-too-permeable barrier.

He could already taste her, could already feel her. His hands went to her hips as her gripping hair fell away from his wrists.

Thought surfaced for one final moment, and Tvorh redoubled his muscles and shoved her to the side. Off-balance as she was, she went to the ground.

Tvorh leapt to his feet. He shook his head as she rose before him. Had he really been considering--

She leaned into a combative crouch, hissed, and bared her teeth. "Generosa. Generate. You. Me."

"Morvin!" Tvorh yelled again, though he didn't dare take his attention off of her. Her perfect breasts, the hair that was a dress around her body, the lean, muscular legs that demanded to wrap around him--

Senrii, down on one knee beyond the angel, her hands still gripping the hilt that was planted in her belly, gurgled and convulsed once.

"Mine!"

Tvorh shook the starlight of sex from his mind. "Take her down now, Morvin!" The chambering of a round came from somewhere behind him. Backup, at last!

Then the barrel of a gun met the back of his head. The angel glanced past Tvorh and nodded approvingly. When she spoke, her voice was almost convivial. "Morvin. Mine. Generate now."

Tvorh wanted to. He wanted her.

He wanted not to get shot.

He wanted to devour her until there was nothing left of her.

He wanted to live.

He wanted his hands to range across her perfect form, to force her into the shapes he chose for her.

He wanted to choose.

He wanted Senrii to survive.

The angel glanced over her shoulder at Senrii, who was now on her hands and knees, heaving. The blade protruding from her back wriggled at every one of her convulsions. "Loving?"

Tvorh's mouth went dry.

"Loving," she said, more insistently.

Tvorh shook his head.

"Loving," the goddess hissed, then coughed. She stalked over to Senrii; her hair whipped out, dragging Senrii upright by the neck and shoulders. Senrii screamed wetly, and blood streamed from her wound.

"Loving," the angel said. She yanked the sword out of Senrii's stomach.

Something changed. Tvorh wasn't certain what. Something about the sound of her hair...

"Loving," she repeated, drawing the sword back for a killing blow.

The sound happened again. The angel's hair changed from locks to snakes to locks. She stumbled and jabbed the sword down into the floor of the cavern to steady herself. "Loving," she hissed.

A gun cracked, making Tvorh jump. The angel dropped both Senrii and the sword as she staggered back, clutching at her arm.

Aoife, her face a grimace of pain and effort, braced her rifle against the ground, staring down the sights.

"Loving. Generating," the angel snarled, her eyes snapping toward Aoife. She ignored Senrii, stepping on top of her and making her cry out as she stalked toward Aoife.

Defenseless Aoife on the ground.

And Tvorh... Tvorh could barely move...

Aoife's eyes widened in fear. The gun trembled in her hand as the air grew thick, fogging Tvorh's mind again.

Then the angel doubled over in pain, went to her knees. She shrieked and collapsed mere steps from Aoife.

"Wha--" Morvin said, his voice like a distant traveler slowly approaching.

"Senrii!" Tvorh screamed as the fog evaporated from his mind.

The angel thrashed on the ground as her flesh began to transform. Senrii jerked, gripping uselessly at the wound in her stomach.

"What happened?" Morvin murmured.

"Morvin! Morvin, can you hear me?"

"Of course I--" Morvin's eyes grew wide at the sight beyond. "Blood, bone, and bile."

Tvorh scrambled to his feet. "We have to get her back to the Libraratory." Maybe it was innate decency. Maybe it was the residue of the pheromones. Whatever it was, Tvorh couldn't countenance the idea of leaving the angel to Chimerize alone in this place. "Both of them. Hurry up and call in an evac."

"Dustoff isn't safe in the Wildlands."

Tvorh turned his attention to the burnt legionnaire, to the several soldiers who'd been injured by Chimerical claws and teeth, to Aoife who was only now shuddering her way to her knees, to the Chimerizing angel. "The spore clouds are farther down the mountain." To Ductrix Senrii bleeding out. "And anyway, maybe dying to spores is better than definitely dying here. Call it in, Legatus!" Tvorh looked down at Senrii. She looked really bad already.

"It's not that," Morvin said. "The shortsphere... it's not likely to reach this far. Perhaps if we were in the air, but certainly not down in the mountainside."

Senrii might not make it back as it was...

"Then you're lucky I followed you," called a voice from the doorway up above the switchback ramps.

Eztli?