Rowan's shy look at his help, perhaps accentuated by the singularity of her eye, sparked a frison of cool release in him. It was....oddly peaceful. Not like what Valeriya made him feel, the lioness that she was, fire and fight, passion incarnate. It was the other side of the coin, the yin to her yang, black and white, dark and night. Sun and moon.
Maya, looking out through three eyes, holding on to him. The Moon Queen, he thought, trying to understand all of this, a ghost of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
Time had telescoped it seemed, as if he had gone somewhere, the moment stretched out to some sort of infinitude ...
Only a second had passed as they began their walk, Valeriya, her tiny calloused hand warm in his, Rowan's cool in the other. He turned to look at his beloved, naked in her majesty, deep smile of contentment beginning to form on his face, when a cry erupted from Rowan, her sudden lurch tugging him down.
His mind shifted and he spun about scanning, looking for the threat. A quivering spear of some sort was plunged deep into the sand where Rowan had been just a moment before. His nostrils flared at the smell of blood and his eyes sought the wound, a tearing at her leg that dripped.
He looked at Valeriya but thankfully she was unharmed, though confusion painted her face.
He turned back and despite her hurt, Rowan was clearly lucid and looking out at the lake. He turned to see some sort of water creature, female in form standing half out of the water, a crown of swords about her head. Memory tickled but nothing concrete came to him as the thing disappeared, only to burst from the surface a few moments later, the large spray and crashing waves making it difficult to see its movements.
His telescoping blade would be useless against it. Maybe one of the god weapons Theiss had supplied him with before they had left Moscow. For any dangers along the way, he had told himself. Not for Rowan. He knew that, now.
Too late he saw a spear flying through the air toward them and he tried to figure its trajectory so he knew who to push out of the way. That was their only chance. Perhaps as it dove down again, they could make it to the camper and get away.
Rowan's hands moved and even as he started to moved towards her to shove her out of the path- it was aimed at her- the spear clanged against something invisible. His eyebrows shot up and he looked at Rowan, surprised.
"Maya," he whispered in awe.
Despite the pain evident in her eyes, her concern was for them.
Incarnation they both might be, but they could bleed and be killed. He felt as if dice rattled in his head, as if pieces of him were in danger.
Without a thought, he scooped Rowan up into his arms, the words "Run Valeriya!" on his lips, the sound of waters crashing behind them as the thing must have resurfaced. He braced for the piercing of a spear through his back, as Valeriya ran in front of him, Rowan held protectively in his arms.
They must live!!
Whatever she had done before still held, it seemed, though he dared not look back to check, for fear of tripping and spilling her onto the rough ground, hurting her more.
They were at the camper in moments and he quickly deposited her onto the couch, confident that Valeriya would tend to her, threw himself into to the console and began their escape.
His heart raced as he waited to feel the vehicle lurch as another spear launched inevitably hit its mark. Thankfully, there was nothing. The bumpy road gave way to pavement, but he still drove on, faster than usual to put as much distance between them and that thing as he could.
"How is she, Valeriya?" he called out to his love, worry evident in his voice, the image of her, wounded and bleeding and having acted to protect them all, asking them if they were safe, burned into his mind.
Maya, looking out through three eyes, holding on to him. The Moon Queen, he thought, trying to understand all of this, a ghost of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
Time had telescoped it seemed, as if he had gone somewhere, the moment stretched out to some sort of infinitude ...
Only a second had passed as they began their walk, Valeriya, her tiny calloused hand warm in his, Rowan's cool in the other. He turned to look at his beloved, naked in her majesty, deep smile of contentment beginning to form on his face, when a cry erupted from Rowan, her sudden lurch tugging him down.
His mind shifted and he spun about scanning, looking for the threat. A quivering spear of some sort was plunged deep into the sand where Rowan had been just a moment before. His nostrils flared at the smell of blood and his eyes sought the wound, a tearing at her leg that dripped.
He looked at Valeriya but thankfully she was unharmed, though confusion painted her face.
He turned back and despite her hurt, Rowan was clearly lucid and looking out at the lake. He turned to see some sort of water creature, female in form standing half out of the water, a crown of swords about her head. Memory tickled but nothing concrete came to him as the thing disappeared, only to burst from the surface a few moments later, the large spray and crashing waves making it difficult to see its movements.
His telescoping blade would be useless against it. Maybe one of the god weapons Theiss had supplied him with before they had left Moscow. For any dangers along the way, he had told himself. Not for Rowan. He knew that, now.
Too late he saw a spear flying through the air toward them and he tried to figure its trajectory so he knew who to push out of the way. That was their only chance. Perhaps as it dove down again, they could make it to the camper and get away.
Rowan's hands moved and even as he started to moved towards her to shove her out of the path- it was aimed at her- the spear clanged against something invisible. His eyebrows shot up and he looked at Rowan, surprised.
"Maya," he whispered in awe.
Despite the pain evident in her eyes, her concern was for them.
Incarnation they both might be, but they could bleed and be killed. He felt as if dice rattled in his head, as if pieces of him were in danger.
Without a thought, he scooped Rowan up into his arms, the words "Run Valeriya!" on his lips, the sound of waters crashing behind them as the thing must have resurfaced. He braced for the piercing of a spear through his back, as Valeriya ran in front of him, Rowan held protectively in his arms.
They must live!!
Whatever she had done before still held, it seemed, though he dared not look back to check, for fear of tripping and spilling her onto the rough ground, hurting her more.
They were at the camper in moments and he quickly deposited her onto the couch, confident that Valeriya would tend to her, threw himself into to the console and began their escape.
His heart raced as he waited to feel the vehicle lurch as another spear launched inevitably hit its mark. Thankfully, there was nothing. The bumpy road gave way to pavement, but he still drove on, faster than usual to put as much distance between them and that thing as he could.
"How is she, Valeriya?" he called out to his love, worry evident in his voice, the image of her, wounded and bleeding and having acted to protect them all, asking them if they were safe, burned into his mind.