[i]Days later.[/i]

Alien sounds rasped around Tauga's head. Every now and again she realised that the clamour was nothing less than her own pounding heart and rattling breath, thick, crackling gasps like a dying animal. Then she'd take a few more steps, forget, and realise again. Her back slouched forwards, and her arms hung, spasming, fingers twitching. Through darkly bloodshot eyes she stared at the ground and the sky as she walked, each step requiring several seconds of work. Only her tentacles guided her way, semiautonomous as they were.

The memories were continuous and clear as glass, but her ability to recall them had collapsed as she came down. Images and words floated through her brain unbidden.

[i]It was broad daylight when she descended, letting herself drop effortlessly to her feet on the deck of the ship. Sunshades and marquees had been erected above the wooden slats and rugs had been laid down on them. Her tentacles expanded into the pleasure barge, tasting everything, scanning it all, driving a thrill of precognitive terror into the naked nobles, their slaves, their kidnapped toys.

In the moment it took to draw her khopesh, she locked eyes with the bejeweled captain spread-eagle on the pillows before her.[/i] [colour=antiquewhite]'My ship now,'[/colour] [i]she mouthed, opening her pockets as she blurred into the mess of bodies.[/i]

One of Tauga's legs forgot how to walk and she tripped on air. By miracle alone did she pull herself back to her feet, swaying.

[i]What the hain Victor saw as he moved from the shadows was not pleasant. With her mask off, the Blowfly's eyes could be seen, bloodred, the thin skin encircling them pulled taut as they sulked back into Tauga's skull. The black goggles of her mask were almost more human.

He knew she was there, and she knew he knew. It was part of her game. Two of his sisters had already died this way. That much was clear to him, now that he saw himself facing the same fate. He did not fear death. Only reviled the means and purpose through which it should come. He bared his steel.

If anything, it was, at least, a chance for him to spite the Jvanic Entity and all its malcreations.

Minutes later, the Blowfly wrenched her hammer from what was left of the Victor's skull. Her muscles burned, an almost pleasant sensation she didn't really feel. The new training regimen was suiting her well.[/i]

From the waist up, Tauga was slowly losing balance, her path meandering left and right as she vainly tried to restore her balance. This time she didn't get up when she fell. Lying there, she could hear voices coming closer. They were dimmer and further than the memories.

[i]There were nine of them. Scholars, a few, and the rest artisans, craftsmen. Slaves, all, a distinction that had become arbitrary to the Blowfly lately. Slave or no, she could do whatever she pleased.

Before them was a long table, and on that table was makeshift equipment, bowls, pegs, knives, scoops. Buckets of slop, raw meat and fruit. Powders and crushed leaves. Cups of arksynth. Nine tiny specks of red flesh.

[colour=antiquewhite]"Sit. Listen."[/colour] The slaves obeyed immediately. [colour=antiquewhite]"I'm gonna teach you how to use it and make more of it. You're gonna figure it out and then move to the palace, where you'll fuck around with it as I say until I find a ship to put you on to get you the fuck out of here. Got it?"[/colour] They nodded. One of them nodded hesitantly. Tauga caught her eye, lifted her by the throat and hurled her from the palace window, where she screamed until the ophan's razor cord caught her in midair.

The Blowfly picked up her share of the sweetmeat and put it on her tongue. Waste not. [colour=antiquewhite]"Eat this,"[/colour] she said. They did.[/i] [colour=antiquewhite][i]"Now we understand each other. If you so much as blink at me the wrong way, you'll join[/i] her.[i]"[/i][/colour]

[i]Now, with the checks in place, the learning could begin.[/i]

Someone was lifting Tauga by the shoulders; She tried to resist, couldn't. One of the voices was familiar.

[i]Tonight had been the first time the Rotfly Watch had spoken to her in days. The Blowfly didn't walk anywhere now, only flew. Nobody knew her plans. Not even Sen.

"Why are we doing this?" asked the captain, for the fifth time. No response from the figure in the suit, who was now smashing wine barrels with her hammer. Quickly and systematically, without wasting time on a response. Sen continued his own task, standing guard with the rest of the squadron as the slaves crushed boxes of fruit.

"No matter how much we spoil, the Énas will just make more. He visits these storehouses often. There's no way you can starve the dark carnival out of existence."

Tauga replied by snatching the torch out of Sen's hand as carts of large, sealed jars arrived from the palace. Between her and the slaves, the clear, sharply aromatic liquid within was soon dumped onto the stores. Sen sniffed. Faintly like vinegar, only sweeter.

The militiamen and slaves were motioned out of the storehouse. Tauga hung back only long enough to toss Sen's torch into the building. Immediately, the soaked straw flooring flashed alight. The whole structure was ablaze in moments.

[color=antiquewhite]"What fucking storehouse,"[/color] muttered Tauga, and disappeared into the night sky.[/i]

Sen stopped calling Tauga's name; Her eyes were focusing on him but she clearly wasn't capable of speech yet. After a brisk exchange with the hain alongside him, they decided she was safe to move. He lifted the young beakie in his arms, and began a steady walk back to the barracks, flanked by his detachment.

She was light. So, so light.

[i]The dark carnival seethed and roared below. Houses had been burned just to make room for some of the larger... Festivities. Dances that turned into orgies. Boxing rings that became brawls. Games that became lynch mobs for the loser. Despite everything, the madness had grown. Bonfires dotted Xerxes.

As the Blowfly began to descend, the ophan cords hummed a familiar dirge of scythed air.

The Bludgeons careened into the mass of people, ophanim scraping sparks from roads that quickly soaked in blood. A single sweeping movement blew each pyre apart in a flare of light and embers. Back and forth the iron spheres passed over the festival grounds, crushing. Bodies flew, bones crunched.

When the survivors scattered in the streets, Tauga ended her slaughter. She was splattered. Mangled people lay everywhere, some still moaning. That would scare the cultists off for a day or two, maybe. Precious hours to move men and supplies safely through the City.

And then they'd be back. She hadn't even dented them.[/i]

"Oh, Tauga," sighed Sen, setting down his general on a stretcher. The Rotfly Watch clustered around, filling the barracks, waking their comrades just for a glimpse of what had become of their Blowfly. "You poor kid."

Only faint murmurs stirred the militia. [i]Broken-hearted Tauga,[/i] they whispered. [i]The girl without a soul.[/i]