Inside was a tall creature, appearing human, with very pale skin and bright red hair. His skin was stretched tight over his bones, making him appear skeletal. His eyes were screwed shut against the invasion of dim light. His body twitched and shook as the deep sleep faded from his cells.
Donnchadh leaned close and spoke in the language of the Airlia. “The Gods must die or you will never escape this. You will die a miserable death after a long and worthless life.”
The words echoed off the stone walls of the chamber and the shocked face of the creature inside as he comprehended them. The eyelids rose. His eyes had a reddish tint to them and the suggestion of an elongation of the pupil. Evidence, Donnchadh knew, of his Airlia roots. Gwalcmai was standing in the entrance to the cell, watching back the way they had come, sword in hand.
Donnchadh placed a finger on the creature’s throat as she peered deep into his alien eyes. There was the tip of a shuntimplanted in the skin. “You’ve been used for a very long time, haven’t you?”
The creature sat up. He was secured to the inside of the tube by a chain around his waist. There were straps around his legs, arms, and torso with leads to the side of the tube— the stimulators that kept the muscles active during the deep sleep, Donnchadh knew. She saw him look at the other tube. Donnchadh went over to it and powered it down, tapping the correct hexagonals. Then she opened it. A female was inside.
Donnchadh went back to the male. He had not spoken a word. He was staring at her, waiting. Patience was a virtue that Donnchadh could appreciate.
“You won’t last much longer,” she said. “You have no choice. If you do not act, you will eventually die. Each time they drain you, the percentage of their blood in you is reduced and the human percentage grows. Soon you will no longer be effective for their needs. Then they will take another human female and make your replacement. They may already have a child, like you were once, growing up, guarded closely on the surface, ready to come here and be placed in this tube and drained as needed. They are very good at planning for their own needs and pleasures.”
The male finally spoke. “How do you know this?”
“It is their way. They are not Gods, but creatures from—” Donnchadh pointed up. “From among the stars. They use us — humans — and they use you, half of their blood, half-human. It is hard for me to determine which is the worse of their sins. At least what they are doing to you is obvious. Their rule of the humans is more devious, pretending to be that which they aren’t.” She shrugged. “There is also the possibility that the Gods may decide to go into the long sleep, as their brethren have done in other places, in which case they will kill you and the others they keep down here, as you will longer be needed.”
The male seemed confused. Donnchadh imagined this was all too much for him to grasp, but she knew the clock was ticking. They couldn’t stay here and chat. Gwalcmai glanced into the cell and she nodded.
The female spoke. “Why do you want to help us? You are human. We aren’t. We’re half like them.”
“Because you must hate them as much as I do and more than those above,” Donnchadh explained. “Most humans”—she shook her head—“they are like sheep. Simply happy their harvest comes in and the Gods make all the decisions for them.”
The female spoke again. “You cannot kill the Gods. They are immortal.”
Donnchadh pulled aside her robe, revealing six daggers tucked into her belt. “With these you can. They were made by the Gods themselves for use against each other.”
The female half-breed remained skeptical. “Even if we kill the Gods, the priests will then slay us, won’t they?”
Donnchadh looked at the female. “Not if you are immortal.”
The male was the first to grasp the significance. “The Grail?”
Donnchadh nodded. “You kill the Gods. You go into the Black Sphinx and recover the Grail, which is hidden there, then partake as has been promised by the Gods since before the beginning of time. You become immortal.”
“Who are you?” the male demanded.
“My name is Donnchadh. My partner and I have fought the Gods in other places. That should be enough for you. Your enemy is our enemy.”
“Your enemies are our parents,” the male said.
“One of your parents.” Donnchadh stared at him. “Yourother parent was human, taken by an Airlia — the Gods— for their pleasure and to produce you so they can use you for their pleasure also. The Gods deserve neither your homage nor your respect. They will drain you and kill you without a second thought once they have a replacement ready or if they no longer desire the pleasure your blood brings them.”
“How can we do this that you propose?” The male rattled the chains holding him in the tube.
Donnchadh pulled a long piece of Airlia metal from inside her cloak. “Tonight. After the ceremony of the solstice. You can follow the Gods who oversee it from the ceremony to their hidden places along the Roads.” She placed the tip inside one of the links of chain that bound him. “Do you want your freedom?”
The answer was what she expected. “Yes.”
Donnchadh applied pressure and the link gave way. She worked quickly and soon the male was free. As he climbed out of his tube, Donnchadh went to the female and freed her. She saw Gwalcmai roll his eyes as the two creatures embraced. She held up a hand, begging his patience. But even she was shocked as the male put his mouth to the female’s throat and began to drink her blood.
“We don’t have time for this,” Donnchadh said. “The ceremony has started above. You do not have much time to free the others and be ready.”
The two were whispering to each other. Donnchadh could feel Gwalcmai’s impatience permeate the cell. “If you do not act now, you will die.” She didn’t wait, moving out into the corridor and going to the next cell, which Gwalcmai had just opened.
“And who are you?” the male asked Gwalcmai.
“My name means nothing to you. I was called Gwalcmai, long ago. I have had other names and I will have others in the future.”
“I am Nosferatu and this is Nekhbet.”
Gwalcmai shrugged.
“Vampyr and Lilith are in here,” Nosferatu added as they went into the second cell. Donnchadh didn’t acknowledge this either as she opened up the two tubes and moved on to the third cell.
“Mosegi and Chatha,” Nosferatu said as Donnchadh opened the last two tubes, freeing the occupants.
One for each of the Airlia, Donnchadh thought as she broke the chains around the last half-breed’s waist. Done, she turned toward the exit, where Gwalcmai waited. “I will leave you to do what you must.”
Nosferatu put a hand out, stopping her. “Tell me more of the Gods. Why do they need to do this?” He touched the shunt in his neck.
“As I have said, they do it for pleasure. It is an elixir for them. They prefer it over pure human blood.”
“That is all?”
“Do you not relish the feeding you receive?” Donnchadh asked.
Nosferatu nodded.
“And was not her”—Donnchadh pointed at Nekhbet— “blood so much more pleasurable to you?”
“Yes.”
“Then you should understand.”
“We exist only for their pleasure?”
“Yes.” Gwalcmai nodded his head, indicating they needed to leave.
“It is said the Gods are immortal,” Nosferatu said.
Gwalcmai was restless in the corridor. “We must hurry.”
“In a sense,” Donnchadh said, “they are.”