I think Mathias was expecting more from his father, but it was easy to see just how outclassed the stripped down drach was in the face of his son's magic. How had the young man gone so long under the thumb of one shackled by the loss of the majority of his strength? The fallen drach couldn't even swell his size, his massive body all physical, not augmented by magic.

And the subtle fizzle of what remained of his rainbow energy made me sad. I almost looked away, but for the moment of elation turned to horror on Mathias's face as he, too, realized just what he'd been afraid of.

Had his magic been somehow locked down until now? It roared within him like a creature newly woken, so I could only imagine that was the case. If so, it made sense then that Mathias spent his life in fear, though I had little doubt from my objective Daeva perspective on the outside of this conflict if it came down to a fight right now, right here, the ancient drach who was no drach any longer, not really, didn't stand a chance.

"You were the worst mistake I ever made." I almost laughed at that pathetic attempt at an insult, only to see agony ripple over Mathias, through his magic and his physical body. How pathetic this hideous creature who had done such damage to one so young. And for what?

Control and power? Bitter resentment surely ate him alive inside as he faced down his own flesh and blood now far surpassing who he had ever been. At least, I told myself so.

"I'm not afraid of you anymore." Mathias sounded sad, weary, while the ordinary humans huddling in terror moaned their fear at his words. They, at least, had something to worry about. Even stripped so close to the bone the old drach had the power still to harm them. Had he somehow found a way to use that which Mathias now controlled? Possibly, though hardly worth the time it would take to sort out the truth. Not when I was now sure this would all be over well before anyone could find an excuse to end it.

My focus wasn't so tight I missed the encroaching pressure of outside attention. Being Daeva had its advantages and keeping track of my environment wasn't something I let go of in a situation like this. I felt them coming, the big, black vehicles and the weapons and armor, the steady pressure of their surety of conflict and their own skewed sense of right and wrong.

Government of a type I hadn't yet encountered but seemed more than familiar with this landscape and the compound itself from the way they spread out and surrounded the small retreat.

Someone's coming, I sent to Mabel, though I had no doubt she was also aware.

He will have the time he needs. Her magic pushed outward, sealing the perimeter of the compound, keeping the humans without at bay. I shivered at her control, at the enormity of her magic and longed with a sharp jab of envy to be so practiced. She glanced at me, eyes glittering. Pay attention, Reena, she sent, intense calm in her massive mental voice.

Mathias seemed frozen by whatever old baggage he still carried and I ground my teeth together, impatience pushing against his back. To get on with it, then. So we could move on already. I'd taken those steps myself, longed for the same for him, though he meant little to me, honestly. At least, I so chose to believe as he finally sagged. No, not giving up the fight, was he? When he was so close to winning?

"All my life," he said, voice low and rasping in the still, hot air filled with dust and the scent of human sweat, "I have longed for the power to stand against you. To free Mother and Winda and Blaise, to be free of you forever, Father." He shook his head then, dark hair a short shadow

over his scalp, faint scales appearing on the back of his tanned neck as the drach within him stretched and groaned. "But it's not you we need to be free of. It's what you've made us believe." He turned slowly, facing a woman and two children, the younger boy beaming and near bursting with excitement, the girl weeping. His mother and siblings, then. But there was no joy in the woman who gave birth to him. Just fear and an odd kind of loathing that made me want to slap her. Even more so when Mathias raised one hand to her and waited. "Mother," he said then, voice aching with loss he seemed to understand loomed over him much as Mabel did. "Please.

He's not a god or a prophet or anything special. He's nothing."

The old drach grunted as if Mathias struck him, shock on his face while the woman flinched and looked away. She grasped the two younger children closer to her and shook her head while the gathering of humans hissed and spit at the young man who came home to save them.

"I don't know who you are," the woman said, turning to look the twisted leader of this sad group of humans in the eye, "but you are not my son."

What was it about people that they chose the hurt over the truth every single time? I tsked in frustration but clamped my lips together, arms crossing over my chest while the rattle of weapons and the hum of communication devices powered by electricity instead of magic echoed on the other side of Mabel's shielding. And wished she'd just let them in to finish off the mess Mathias was making.

Because fight or no fight, no matter what he did, he'd lost. And from the defeated way his arm dropped and his face set, he knew it.

I don't know when I decided to move, only that a moment later I found myself at his hip, my arms falling to my sides, letting the other humans feel my utter loathing and contempt for what they'd become. And showed the old drach who'd instilled such fear I wasn't afraid of him. That he, instead, should be very afraid of me.

"Demon," he snarled, fear in his diamond eyes.

"Abomination of Creation," I snapped back. "You shall not be allowed to spread your disease further. The drach have spoken."

Maybe speaking for Mabel and the first race wasn't the smartest thing to do, but it caught the attention of the other humans. They flipped back from defiant refusal to believe in anything but their leader to sheer horror the one they'd believed in was exactly what he claimed and here, in shining glory, stood the proof of how far he'd fallen.

Mabel sighed, but softly, kindly, as she seemed to do everything. "Enough," she said, weight in the multitude of voices that rang with the power of the drach. She sang the song that was the fallen one's name and mimicked Mathias's gesture. "It is time. Our people wait for your return."

For a moment the old drach seemed hopeful, agonizingly so, a flash of joy on his face as he lurched toward her, closer to Mathias who staggered back with a soft cry of protest such a return to grace could come true. But his father ignored him, hands rising, the hate in him fading just enough I caught the touch of the drach he used to be. How very sad, his fall. Whatever triggered his darkness, he'd worn it for so long the truth of who he'd been barely made it through.

I think he understood on instinct that Mabel wasn't making the offer he assumed. Because it was only a moment later all the searing light died, and the black and hate returned. He snarled at her.

"To judge me again," he growled, turning to gesture at his people, sermonizing as though to show them everything he'd said all along was true. They swayed and wept. "To finally end my life."

Mabel didn't hesitate, nodded. "As was meant from the beginning," she said. "He who spared you is no longer with us and you will find I do not bear his sympathies or guilt."

She was talking about the former leader, Max. I had heard through Raethnn he had been the cause of the split in the Universe, dividing sorcery into the various elemental magicks separating everything into two separate paths of Creation. He died repairing that damage, at least from what I was told. Could it be the cause of this old drach's downfall stemmed from Max's initial error?

I guess I'd never know.

Nor, honestly, did I care. Not when the drach turned to his son in a flash of action, hands raised, grasping Mathias's head in such a way I knew what came next. I'd practiced snapping necks myself not so long ago, knew how to kill another living being in that way with the barest pressure and torque.

Was too slow, though, to save Mathias. Too shocked this creature would think to kill his own son. Shouldn't I, an assassin who had lived her life surrounded by the threat of death, anticipated such a move? Damn it, I was a demon, and our kind held each other's being in contempt for a living.

It didn't matter. Not that I was slow, or that Mabel didn't move in time. Because Mathias was much, much faster than I gave him credit for.

I barely saw his arm move, his wrist snapping his father's grip, rainbow power slamming into the old drach's chest. Driving him to his knees, draining with purpose the final bits and pieces of magic left to him until he collapsed, his diamond eyes glazed in death at Mathias's feet.

***