In the Company of Ogres (38 page)
The emperor salivated. Drool dripped from his lips to puddle beneath his hovering body.
Strangely, Ned didn’t sense anything else wrong with him as the magic did its work. His pain faded, and the Void continued to rumble within him. But despite the awesome magics being unleashed (to be honest, this was just a guess since Ned knew nothing of minor magic much less the awesome type), Ned didn’t feel anything else. There was only one explanation. He was fading away, and because he wasn’t real, he couldn’t even sense it.
He didn’t want to die. And not just because his death meant the end of the universe. There was more at stake. Less, actually. But for the first time in as long as he could remember, Ned wanted to live. He didn’t know why. His life had been a remarkably dull affair up to now, excluding the last few days of dragon wizards and demon emperors. But maybe that was his fault. Or maybe he was just destined to live a boring, eternal existence. And maybe one day he’d be sick of it. But not today.
Damn it all, he was Never Dead Ned, and if there was one thing Never Dead Ned was good at (and as far as he could tell there was only one thing), it was not dying. Actually, he was pretty good at that, but staying dead was another matter. And after all this time yearning for the icy whisper of true and lasting oblivion, Ned decided he wasn’t so keen on ending his days after all. He had to do something. At the very least, he had to try.
The sorcerers’ voices blended together into a low rumble that vibrated the throne room and, indeed, the entire fortress. The Mad Void grumbled, though only Ned sensed it, and even he wasn’t so sure about that anymore. There seemed every possibility that what he thought was awakening unspeakable evil was nothing more than a hearty case of indigestion.
Ned wondered if a mistake had been made. He didn’t feel all-powerful. Nor did he feel as if he was fading away after all. He felt ... well, he felt like Ned. But it didn’t seem likely that the Red Woman, the sacred stones, and the demons could all have been wrong.
The chant reached its crescendo. The lights of the pendulum gathered into a swirling cube over his head that settled on his body, and for a second Ned thought he might throw up.
Rucka pounced. The demon forced Ned to the floor and pressed tiny, sharp claws to Ned’s face.
Ned belched.
The light faded.
Rucka’s smile vanished. He pulled back his empty hand and squinted at Ned. “What’s this? Where is it?” He hopped to stand on Ned’s chest and glare at his sorcerers. “Where is the power?”
The sorcerers lowered their pendulums but dared not speak. With a grunt, Rucka blasted a fireball out of his nostril that slowly and painfully incinerated one of his minions. The sorcerer writhed in twisted agony, screaming and begging for mercy.
Rucka seized another by the robes. “Please, speak up.”
The sorcerer’s voice sounded muffled and distant, logical given his lack of a mouth. “Forgive us, oh dreaded lord, but we do not know. It should’ve worked.”
Rucka disintegrated this sorcerer in an instant, discarding the gift of agony usually granted to those who failed him. He had more pressing concerns than such infernal civilities.
The remaining sorcerers cowered as Rucka stalked toward Ned. “I felt it. For the briefest of moments, I sensed ... something. Something inconceivable, even to my intellect. Yet it remains hidden.”
He clasped his hands behind his back and paced twice around Ned. “I see now that I must settle this affair personally.” He turned to his sorcerers. “You’re dismissed.”
“Thank you, oh merciful dark lord,” said one.
“Think nothing of it.” Rucka waved a hand. The floor opened up beneath them, and they tumbled down into the depths, into the literal bowels of the Iron Fortress itself.
Rucka’s many eyes glowed with blue flames. He made no move toward Ned, just stared at him. The demon picked up a pendulum and channeled his dark powers through it. The stone burned a murderous red, bathing Ned in a crimson spotlight as Rucka’s magic clawed at the illusion of flesh, striving to tear it away, to strip away the chimera of mortal bone and blood. Ned blurred around the edges for just a moment. His lack of reaction surprised the emperor, but he kept this to himself. A cruel grin remained across his face as he pushed more of his awesome power against the ancient spell that was Never Dead Ned.
There were few external signs of the invisible magics. Shafts of unholy fire poured from Rucka’s eyes. A single drop of sweat formed on Ned’s forehead, and he felt kind of itchy. But he didn’t scratch. He didn’t want to give Rucka the satisfaction.
Scowling, Rucka hissed a rancid, orange mist that wrapped around Ned. His itchiness grew, and that stinging indigestion stirred again, much like the sensation triggered by the sorcerers but a little stronger. Ned stifled a gag. He scratched his nose and wiped the tears from his eye. But that was the worst of it.
Rucka grumbled. He’d expected Ned to melt away. The magic at work was more complex than he’d first imagined. Unmaking such spells demanded subtlety and patience, but he’d never been very good at these. Instead he poured more of his dark magic through the sacred stone and into Ned’s false mortal shell.
Ned’s indigestion roared, though by the time it crawled out of his belly and up his throat to push its way out his closed mouth, it was barely a dull snarl. Some alien presence rose in his guts and lashed out at the bothersome nuisance of the First and Greatest Emperor of Hell.
Rucka exploded.
For such a little demon, there was a terrible mess left behind. Slimy goop covered the walls. Ned was splattered with the malodorous stuff. He would’ve thrown up, but he didn’t have the energy. Rucka’s many eyes littered the floor. Each and every one glared at Ned. It was a good indication that the demon wasn’t dead, though he was clearly very annoyed. Ned couldn’t blame him. Rucka’s might was beyond understanding, yet the Mad Void had swatted him away as casually as if the terrible demonic emperor were some easily swatted away thing. Ned didn’t have the energy for metaphors right now either.
The Void settled back into its slumber. Although it hadn’t really awoken. If it had, the universe would probably be ash by now. Except the stuff that was already ash. That would probably become some lesser class of ash. Dust, thought Ned. Or soot. He wasn’t sure which, and it seemed largely irrelevant. What was relevant was that the Mad Void was a very deep sleeper and had little interest in waking up. That was good.
However, it had also crushed Rucka with the barest flex of its metaphysical might. Which meant if it ever did wake up, even against its will, there would be no force capable of putting it back to bed. Rucka didn’t understand that, and he’d keep poking the Mad Void with a stick. The results could only be disastrous to the entire universe, including Rucka. The goop that was the emperor was slowly but certainly drawing himself back together. And that had to be bad since Ned doubted the exploded emperor had learned his lesson.
The throne room doors flew open, and in rushed a squad of demon soldiers. Ned could identify them as soldiers by their gleaming black armor and wicked scimitars. He could identify them as demons, though their armor covered them almost completely, because it was a safe bet that almost every resident of the Iron Fortress was a demon. Even him, when he thought about it.
“Forgive us, great and merciless lord,” said the lead soldier, “but the fortress is under—”
The slimy remains of his master interrupted his report. He slipped on a bit of intestine and fell flat on his back with a resonating clang. Two others followed his example, sliding across the floor. The remaining three learned from their example and didn’t cross the threshold.
The soldiers, those not trying to rise to their feet, took in the scene. Ned couldn’t see their faces behind their closed helmets, but he assumed their expressions were of awe. It appeared as if he’d destroyed their fearsome leader. He didn’t see any reason to correct the assumption.
“I guess I’ll be leaving now,” he said, “if that’s okay with you.”
Rucka’s minions were so used to bowing before omnipotent masters that they lowered their scimitars without hesitation and stepped aside to let Ned pass. He didn’t know how long it would take Rucka to reform, but the more distance between the emperor and Ned, the better. The trickiest part would be crossing the throne room without ending up sprawled helplessly across the floor. Before he could begin the delicate journey, a shadow fell across the window.
Ned turned just in time to see the painted glass shattered by a shrieking roc. The bird planted its feet in the slime and skimmed forward, driven by its momentum. Ned barely managed to dive to one side as it coasted by him and crashed against a wall. The moment’s stop was enough to allow it to dig its claws in the floor to gain some stability, though it was a stiff breeze away from toppling over. A dozen goblins dropped from the roc’s feathers and charged the demon soldiers. In other circumstances, the experienced demon warriors would’ve slaughtered their foes, but there were few opponents as wily and unpredictable as a squad of greased goblins.
The sounds of a battle raging outside reached Ned’s ears as he gingerly pushed himself to his knees. He spat out some goop. Not surprisingly, Rucka tasted horrible.
“I told you he was in this tower,” said Miriam.
“Yes, yes.” Regina threw down a ladder. “Ned, we’ve come to rescue you.”
“Thanks.” Ned smiled as he crawled his way toward the roc. A rescue at this point was a trifle late, but it was still the thought that counted.
Ace struggled to keep his mount steady. Not easy with the slippery floor and the roc’s natural inclination to pace around. But it would be extremely bad form to have the giant bird fall on Ned in the middle of the rescue.
“What the hell happened here?” asked Ace.
Ned grabbed the ladder and began the ascent. “Nothing much. I just exploded a demon emperor.”
“You?” asked Regina as she helped him to his seat between Miriam and her.
“Sort of.” He smiled sheepishly.
The pile of muck that was Rucka had managed by now to pull itself together enough to form a misshapen head, a lump with eyes and a crooked mouth. “This isn’t done, Ned!” bellowed Rucka. “I will destroy you! I will have your power! I will—”
The roc, slipping and sliding its way toward the window, squished Rucka and his threats underfoot. Twice the bird lost its footing, but Ace’s superior skills kept it from rolling over and crushing its riders.
Ned picked out ogres, goblins, and demons swarming on the Iron Fortress. The glow of the fortress itself bathed the battle in a green and red luminescence. It wasn’t so much a grand battle as a warm-up clash. Right now, Ogre Company was winning by virtue of first strike, but each passing moment more and more demons were appearing.
“Sir?” asked Miriam.
“What?” replied Ned.
“Your orders?”
Again he’d forgotten he was supposed to be in charge.
Now that he remembered, he still didn’t have the experience to be good at it.
“What would you do?” he asked Regina.
“I’d order a retreat back to the citadel, sir. Might give us the advantage.”
“Right, right. Do that then, Archmajor.”
Regina nodded to the goblin bugler clinging to the roc’s tail. “Sound the retreat.”
The bugler blew the call. Ogre Company remounted its birds with surprising discipline. There were a few stragglers eager to get in a few more licks, but the company was soon in the air, sailing back toward Copper Citadel.
The slime-coated goblins battling the demon soldiers skated effortlessly across the slippery throne room to climb back onto the roc, which Ace spurred out the window. The bird plummeted downward until Ace yanked its reins hard enough to remind it to start flying. Screeching with great irritation, as if it’d much rather hit the brick below, the roc flapped its majestic wings and soared off. The slime covering Ned sloughed off to stay behind in the fortress.
The bugler continued to sound the retreat as the rest of the reptilian birds launched themselves. By now, the demons had managed to get their brimstone cannons out. They fired a few volleys of sulfurous flame that went wide except for one that struck a roc’s side. The bird wobbled but wasn’t greatly bothered.
The Iron Fortress shrank slowly in the horizon. It stomped its great feet in an earthshaking temper tantrum.
“You came for me,” said Ned.
“You are our commander, sir,” said Regina.
“And we were worried possibly about the fate of the universe,” added Miriam.
“Oh, yeah,” agreed Ned. “I suppose that’s important.”
Ned glanced back at the fortress again. A few parting shots of stinking fire soared through the air, but were well short of the flight. There weren’t any demons in pursuit. Probably in disarray without their emperor, Ned decided.
But once Rucka reformed, there was sure to be an army of the damned coming.
Ned weighed his options. He could order Ace to keep flying and hope to outdistance any pursuers. There was no shame in running away. But he doubted that would work. He might be able to put them off for a while, but hiding would be a lot harder now. The demons knew who he was. So did he. So did a few hundred soldiers. True, they didn’t know exactly
what
he was, but close enough that obscurity would be difficult to find in the long run.
what
he was, but close enough that obscurity would be difficult to find in the long run.
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