Demonkin (9 page)

“Our prince needs us.” Anylus strode into the stone hall beyond his study and Kara hurried after him.

They walked into one of the three greater halls running the length of the royal palace. Bells tolled as they passed rich tapestries depicting the All Province War and a dozen before it. They passed courtesans in diaphanous silks, supplicants in brown robes, and a good two dozen clanking legionnaires.

“Anylus, what— “

He silenced her with a raised hand, looking beyond. Another trick Soulmage Adepts mastered was projecting their souls outside their bodies. Perhaps Anylus was projecting his spirit to the reason for the tolling bells. His body kept walking on blind instinct and his last instructions.

Was Tarna under attack? Who would attack them here, Tellvan? How had they penetrated the Ranarok blockades?

They climbed a tower and entered a circular room with a stone floor. Lines of magesand formed a five-pointed star. A woman stood inside those lines, eyes glowing with blue energy. A Skywatcher, like Elder Ine in Solyr.

Tarna had six Skywatchers, two in the towers of the royal palace and one at each cardinal point of its outer walls. The city sprawled two leagues from south to north, parkways and alleys running every direction. It would take hours to walk to the south wall, but by teleporting, they would cross the entire city in the blink of an eye.

“Lirith,” Anylus said, now back in his body. “Please teleport us both to the south tower.”

The woman named Lirith inclined her head. “Yes, Royal Adept.” Her soft voice had an odd echo, like it was two voices instead of one. “Two to the south wall.”

A Skywatcher's vision stretched across the night sky, but teleporting themselves or others using astral glyphs required a great deal of blood. It was not easy work. What must it be like to see through that light?

Anylus took Kara's elbow, pulled her into the center of the circle with him, and released her. Lirith looked up, eyes lighting her red bangs, and raised fingers oozing blood. Her hair fluttered as she painted glyphs and whirling blue light rose around Kara and Anylus.

Lirith’s echoing voice spoke. “They travel.”

Kara's vision swam as the stone floor stretched like a cheek with a tongue in it. One breath later she dropped to her knees, retching. Anylus and another woman helped her up.

“Easy,” the woman said, a dark-skinned Skywatcher on the other side of the glyph. “You're fine and the nausea will pass. Stand and breathe.”

Kara did that and nodded thanks. Together, she and Anylus stepped out of the tower onto one of Tarna's high walls. Chaos held court below.

Shopkeepers, soldiers, and peasantry jostled each other, shouting and pushing. Carts and other animals threatened to crush the throng. Dogs barked, children shrieked, and street vendors desperately collapsed their stalls. Probably because of all the blood.

Kara traced a path of carnage up the street to the ruined wooden gates of Tarna's south wall. Blood splattered broken stalls, and entrails covered cobblestones, and human bodies bent in ways they should not. Like Taven's Hamlet. Kara shook as she remembered all those poor dead people.

Tarna's gates were massive constructs of oak, iron and stone, half as thick as a horse. Something had blown them off their hinges and melted the thick portcullis behind them. The hole in those steel bars would admit a carriage.

Kara counted bodies without thinking. She made at least thirty dead people or pieces of people before she saw it. The demon. The giant red-armored general with its grinning skull-faced helm, holding its lightning sword.

It was the Mavoureen general Trell cut in two beneath Terras. It was
here
, even though it couldn't be. How? Torn had sealed that gate!

No Mavoureen could enter their world as long as the High Protector's wards locked them out, and Torn had locked those wards forever. Kara knew his power. She had possessed his body, for a time. Could there be more than one demon general?

Anylus touched her shoulder. “Is that a revenant?”

Kara shuddered. “No.”

“What is it? How did it penetrate Tarna's wards?”

Fifty soldiers marched toward the demon, constables, enlisted men, and legionnaires. A phalanx of shields and spears. This demon would slaughter them all.

“It's no revenant, and no wards can stop that thing. It's a Mavoureen, Anylus. An actual Mavoureen.”

“Ah,” Anylus said. “That would explain why the wards have no effect. A being of that power—”

“It led the revenant army that slaughtered Tellvan villages under a Mynt flag. It killed ... it killed everyone.” Kara dug her nails into her palms. “Trell hacked it in two beneath the ruins of Terras.”

“Trell.” Anylus stared at the demon. “Killed that?”

“Well.” Kara closed her eyes. “The Five helped.” Sera was far away now and Kara had to think about Tarna.

“I seek Life's Champion!” the Mavoureen general bellowed. “I seek the one called Trell! Tell him Abaddon has come! Tell him we will duel once more or all of you will fall upon my blade!”

So that was the demon's name. Abaddon. Its booming voice made clay roof tiles shudder. Kara opened her eyes and glared. She
would
not be afraid.

A ball of fire dropped on the Mavoureen, glyphed by a slim blonde woman in red robes standing on the roof of a nearby building. One of the Mynt army’s Firebrands! The brave mage had climbed above the crowd, where she could sight the demon and end it!

Her ball of fire simply vanished when it touched Abaddon's blood-red armor. Abaddon raised its sword and the air flashed white. The building on which the woman stood disintegrated and debris exploded through the churning crowd, tearing panicked bodies apart.

The tremors sent Kara stumbling and she looked for Anylus. Her ears rang. Anylus looked to her and mouthed a name, one Kara knew. Her stomach clenched.

Trell. They had to find Trell. Abaddon would slaughter hundreds in its quest for vengeance and Kara could not allow that. Neither could Trell.

She still wasn't going to watch Abaddon murder him.

TRELL STOPPED AS A LOUD VOICE boomed through the streets of Tarna, coming from everywhere at once. “I seek Life's Champion! I seek the one called Trell!”

Beren halted his column of legionnaires and fixed narrowed eyes on Trell. Trell was Life's Champion. He had Life inside him or had, before Cantrall banished her.

“Tell him Abaddon has come!” The voice echoed from every stone and wall. “Tell him we will duel once more or all of you will fall upon my blade!”

Now Prince Beren's legionnaires were staring at him too. Beren crossed his armored arms. “Is there anything you'd like to tell us?”

Trell knew the time for deception was over. “When Kara and I fought the army that attacked Highridge Keep, it was led by a revenant of particular power and skill. Their general. I believe it was an actual Mavoureen.”

“A Mavoureen,” Beren said. “Here.”

“Yes.”

“In my city.”

“It appears so.”

“Well, that's troubling.” Beren motioned his column to march. “So you dueled this demon, and now it's here?”

Constables and squires parted the gawking crowds ahead, barking orders. People were slow to comply but sixty stomping, clanking legionnaires with spears got them moving. That sort of display would get anyone moving.

“I defeated the Mavoureen general,” Trell said, “with the aid of powerful magic.” He glanced at those soldiers within earshot. “I can only say so much.”

Kara had told Trell only those in the magic schools knew the true story behind what ended the All Province War: the Five entering their world by possessing the bodies of people who died. The academy leaders kept this story secret because otherwise, desperate people might try to kill themselves in hopes of gaining the Five's favor.

“I know what you're talking about.” Beren looked ahead. “I did not know it had happened again, and we're hours from the gate. What does this demon want with you?”

Trell pondered. “If I had to guess, I would say it wants a rematch.”

Someone guffawed in the line, possibly Dynara. How many could Abaddon slaughter before they reached the gate? Could Trell save anyone at all?

Beren turned. “Dynara!”

She left formation and charged over in clanking heavy armor. “What?” It was a familiar greeting, but she was a familiar woman.

“Lead Trell to Lirith and get him to the south wall.” Beren pointed to the palace tower. “Our Skywatchers can't send an army through the portals, but they can send Trell.” Beren turned. “I can't order you, but every delay means more deaths at those gates.”

Trell breathed easier. “Show me where to go.”

“You're a brave man.” Dynara gripped his hand and led him off. “Let's hope you don't die like one.” She pulled him on as Beren and his column resumed their march.

Trell and Dynara rushed through the streets of Tarna, drawing curious stares and open gawking. They passed through an archway, then a courtyard with poles flying pennants of blue and white. Finally, they climbed the stairs of the royal palace.

Dynara huffed as they topped the stairs, but even in heavy armor she had stamina befitting a warrior. As they entered the palace's ornate halls Trell's own stamina faded, icy bones hardening up. He pushed through it. Dynara led him up a spiral staircase.

They were both huffing when they reached the top and Dynara's cheeks were flushed, but they kept each other going. Neither wanted to flag. Dynara threw open the door to reveal a kneeling woman with short red hair, eyes closed. That woman stood and her eyes glowed bright blue.

“How many?” The woman's face was pale, as if she'd already been scribing heavily.

“Two,” Dynara said. “South gate.”

“Step into the circle.” The woman raised her hands and her glowing eyes flared. “Anylus is waiting.”

“Always happy to see that humorless old sot.” Dynara marched Trell forward in a firm grip. “Stand close. Each trip drains Lirith's blood.”

“Two to the south gate,” Lirith said, but it didn't seem like she was talking to them. “They travel.”

She traced a bloody glyph and the world slipped out from under Trell's feet. He dropped, coughing hard, and Dynara pulled him up and marched him forward. “Walk it off.” They were now in a different tower entirely.

“Trell!” Kara shouted from outside the tower. He straightened to find her running at him.

He rushed out to meet her and found himself on a high wall overlooking the splintered south gate. Paces away, Royal Adept Anylus stared down at the city. Kara threw her arms around Trell and he almost fell.

Dynara shifted in her armor as they embraced. “I didn't hurt your boyfriend.”

Kara stepped back and brushed tangled hair from her face. “It's that demon general from Terras. What do we do?”

“We stop it,” Trell said, as lighting crackled and a house exploded. He wanted to help Kara stop trembling.

“Kara, it is killing again!” Anylus shouted from the battlement. “Bring Trell here!”

“It wants you.” Kara gripped Trell's hand and walked him along the wall. “I don't want you to go.”

“More people will die if I don't face this demon.” Trell followed and watched her walk, taking in her brown hair, her slim form, her strong arms.

Kara didn't slow and didn't argue. “How will you defeat it? What's your plan?”

“We'll figure that out together.” He pulled her to a stop and turned her to face him. “We always do.”

It was only now, standing on this battlement facing his own death, that Trell realized he
had
grown to love Kara on their harrowing journey from Solyr to Tarna. Her bravery and resilience had charmed him, and whether this love was his own or Five-made did not matter. It felt real, warm, wonderful, and now it would never be.

“Hey.” Dynara clanked closer. “I'll stab it in the face if that'll help.”

Kara's tense shoulders sagged. “It might.” She turned to the royal adept. “Anylus! Get us down there!”

Anylus hurried over. “I know one Aerial glyph. It will get us down, but it may not be graceful.”

“Do it,” Dynara and Kara ordered at once.

Air grabbed them and sucked them off the balcony. Trell's stomach lurched as all four of them dropped. The cobblestones rushed up and stopped close enough to touch.

They slammed down.

The crash of Dynara's armor echoed through the street, as did her loud obscenity. She had hit facedown. Anylus, by comparison, had landed on his feet. He brushed himself off and stepped aside, muttering an apology.

Trell and Kara helped Dynara up. A giant revenant in crimson plate armor strode toward them, lightning sword crackling. Some demon blacksmith had hammered the faceplate of its thick helmet into a grinning skull. This was the monster that slaughtered Taven’s Hamlet, slaughtered Carn, and murdered hundreds of innocents.

“Trell.” The Mavoureen general, Abaddon, raised its free hand in greeting. “How good to see you again!”

JYLLITH AND MALKAVET were approaching the scraggly border of the Valerun when she saw her opportunity on the edge of a nearby cliff. She had spent the last two days traveling with demons through the dark and rocky Unsettled Lands, listening to Malkavet prattle on about this torture or that.

Malkavet knew she was planning escape, of course — it wanted her to try — and even now it gave her every opportunity to flee, hoping for another merry chase. Malkavet was entirely confident its davengers could run her down, secure in the possibility that it could not be destroyed. She would use its ego against it, soon.

Or die trying.

Malkavet had just turned to look behind them when Jyllith sprinted toward the cliff, scribing as she went. Malkavet's davengers moved to intercept, but Jyllith's Hand of Breath exploded before they could reach her. It tossed her off her feet and then right off the cliff.

Malkavet's loud curse was her first hint that she had caught it by surprise, but she had no intention of falling to her death. Even as wind twisted her hair and stung her eyes, Jyllith scribed again. A new Hand of Breath turned her fall into a controlled glide. She streaked across broken, rocky ground and landed at the edge of a blasted copse of trees.

She turned and backed into the trees, searching for davengers. Even after scrambling down the cliff and sprinting across the rock they were already closing, outdistancing Malkavet as she had hoped they would. Jyllith scribed a Hand of Breath, fresh from two days of recovery, and knocked the furthest demon off its feet.

The lead davenger closed the distance as Jyllith backed into the copse of trees. Those trees would obscure them from beyond. She did not see Malkavet, but it would be here soon enough.

The davenger snarled as it tore into the forest and Jyllith scribed two Hands of Breath. As the davenger leapt at her Jyllith slammed those hands together. She knocked it to the earth and, in the short time her air paralyzed it, scribed Davazet's glyph on its flank.

The davenger shuddered, all struggle ceasing as it thrashed and snarled. Then it was over — transformation complete — and the demon looked at her with yellow eyes. Her desperate plan had actually worked.

The second davenger tore into the woods and the first reacted, leaping to its feet. “Pin it!” Jyllith shouted.

Her davenger pinned its fellow as Jyllith ran over, slammed a Hand of Breath into it, and scribed Davazet's glyph on its flank. Another twitch, another thrash, and it was hers as well. In the distance, the third davenger appeared. Malkavet followed it, a spindly dark form drifting on the wind.

“Pin me,” Jyllith whispered. “Now!”

The second davenger tackled her, pinning her to the earth, but it didn't drip any acid drool on her. The first prowled as Jyllith whispered one last command. “Obey Malkavet,” she whispered. “Until I tell you not to.”

These trees had shadows and Malkavet grew from those, shadow made flesh. “Well done, my luscious! I feared you'd lost your spirit.” It snapped its fingers and the davenger pinning Jyllith leapt off her. “I'd hate to think I'd broken Paymon's toy.”

Jyllith stayed down, truly exhausted. She had burned a lot of blood with those two demon glyphs, and burned more blood and sprinted before that. If she didn't escape Malkavet today, she never would.

“Get up,” Malkavet said. “We're not finished.”

Jyllith pushed up, glaring at Malkavet as two of the three davengers stared at her. The demon hounds had them encircled and Malkavet's yellow eyes focused on her, not its hunters. Good.

“Kill the davenger first,” Jyllith said.

Both of her loyal davengers leapt into the third and savaged it, ripping it apart with thick claws and jagged teeth. The stricken davenger screamed a sawblade scream as her davengers tore it apart. Malkavet, however, acted on instinct.

The Mavoureen lunged at her, but Jyllith ducked under its spindly arms and sprinted away. She unslung her staff and smacked it in the face with a loud cry. Her blow crushed its demon nose and sent it bending backward, like a scraggly tree caught in a forceful wind.

“What did you do?” Malkavet shouted as her davengers turned from their slaughtered fellow. “What treachery is this?”

Jyllith snapped her fingers. “Kill him!”

Her davengers launched themselves at Malkavet. It hissed and slipped away but they stayed on it and caught it paces distant. They drove Malkavet to the ground and buried their claws deep in its chest. As they pinned it and black blood started to spew, Malkavet screamed.

“Not possible!” It writhed as davengers chewed and pulled at its long limbs. “Not fair!”

Jyllith advanced, wincing as her davengers tore at Malkavet's darkened flesh. It shrieked, but she blocked out the demon's cries. Mercy was forbidden and empathy was weakness. Cantrall taught her that.

“I'll serve you!” Malkavet cried. “I know secrets!”

One of the davengers tore off Malkavet's spindly left arm, a disgusting sucking sound. The Mavoureen shrieked as the davenger worried its severed arm like a dog on a bone.

“I'll tell you anything!” Malkavet shouted. “Please!”

“What you will do,” Jyllith said, “is die.”

She turned her back and squeezed her eyes shut. She did not know if her davengers could actually kill Malkavet — she did not know if an immortal could truly die — but ripping it into hundreds of pieces might slow it down.

Malkavet's screams grew desperate as Jyllith knelt and checked her pack, made sure she hadn't lost anything in her escape. Bones snapped and tendon tore as Malkavet shrieked, pleaded, and sobbed. Jyllith thought about her mother, her bedtime stories, until the screaming stopped.

The endless storm roiled and colored lightning flashed. Thunder rolled across the charred plains. Soon enough, Jyllith breathed evenly. She was a hunter again.

She took up her pack and staff and turned. There was nothing left of Malkavet but scattered limbs and smoking viscera. Her davengers snorted stream and black blood stained their teeth.

She had just murdered a Mavoureen.

“With me.” Jyllith strode away from the mess and both hound-like davengers walked at her heels, tame as hunting dogs. They were hers now.

The border of the Valerun was visible and she was again free. If not for Malkavet's ego, she would still be walking to her doom. Unfortunately for Paymon, Malkavet always had been one arrogant son of a bitch.

This nightmare might work in her favor. Two davengers would help her convince Cantrall's cult of her loyalties. She could say they had been Sentinels, or townsfolk, and for all she knew they had been ... poor souls tossed into the Underside. She remembered the first soul she'd sacrificed, Tarel Halen. She still had nightmares about him.

Malkavet might not be the only demon Paymon had sent into this world from Pale Lake. Jyllith wished she had time to travel to Tarna and warn Kara, warn Trell, but it was a week in the wrong direction. The curse upon her gave her no time to do anything but complete Melyssa's charge.

Even if she had to send more souls to the Underside.

TRELL EVALUATED THE CARNAGE in Tarna's streets and glanced at Kara. She scribed something. He pushed down her hand, mussed her glyph, and blood dribbled to the ground. Kara opened orange eyes and glared.

“Why?” she hissed.

“That won't work.” All the dead people and scorched ground assured Trell iron and glyphs were no match for Abaddon. “It will simply make it angry.”

Dynara stepped forward with a clank of heavy plate and readied her longsword. “It's not angry now?”

Abaddon waited. More spear-wielding soldiers circled it at a distance, anxious to attack. Abaddon did not advance and it did not kill again.

Just before he cut it apart at Terras, this demon had bowed to him, showing genuine respect. If he offered it a duel, he could use its odd sense of honor to stop this carnage.

Too many innocent people had died today. He had to try it, even if the offer got him killed. It was almost certainly going to get him killed.

“Guard Kara,” Trell ordered.

Dynara thumped his shoulder. “Tear him up, swordking.” Her sabatons clanked as she stepped in front of Kara and Anylus.

Trell unsheathed his broadsword and tested its weight. The ice inside him chilled his aching muscles. He had to walk, no matter how it hurt.

Kara rushed into his path. “No!” They locked eyes. “You don't have Life. You can't face him.

“I have to,” Trell said. “People will—”

“Stop.” She huffed. “I know.” Kara pushed his sword aside and threw her arms around him. She kissed him with urgency he could not help but return.

It felt wonderful and for the briefest of moments, it made every ache inside him fade away. He didn't even feel guilty. Then Kara pulled away and stepped aside, teeth clenched.

Trell stared at her flushed cheeks and wet orange eyes. He would save her from this demon. He would save everyone.

“Don't you even think about dying.” Kara turned to glare at Abaddon. “Just keep that thing busy until I figure out how to kill it.”

Trell smiled. “All right.” They would never know if what they felt was love, but they could still save many. Not a bad reason to die.

He walked past Kara, each step sending knives of agony up his shins. He should not have dueled Dynara this morning, but he had not known what he would face now. Death in crimson armor.

Abaddon waited, lighting sword low and guard down. Soldiers and merchants scurried aside as Trell strode up the middle of the blood-stained street. Abandoned buildings blocked them in, looming tall.

Trell could barely lift his broadsword. Could he satisfy this demon’s bloodlust in his current state? He hoped, even if he died quickly, his death would remove any reason for it to kill people.

“Stop.” Abaddon raised a hand. “Summon Life.”

“Pardon?” Trell did stop, a reprieve from the pain.

“You are Life's Champion.” Abaddon lowered his hand. “Summon her and armor yourself. We must fight as equals.”

“Life is gone,” Trell said. “It's just me now, but I will face you. I'm ready.”

Abaddon tilted its helmet. “That is not why I came.” It ignited its lightning sword. “Summon Life, or I will kill the legionnaire.”

“Try it!” Dynara shouted. “I've never seen a Mavoureen bleed!”

“Think back.” Trell advanced on the demon, urging it to focus on him. “Cantrall took the power of the Five from all of us. Remember? I am no longer Life's Champion, but I will face you.”

Abaddon stood, considering. “I believe you would.” It lowered its sword with the sound of creaking armored joints. “There is no honor in defeating you like this.”

Trell pushed down the urge to scream at it. “Was there honor in the slaughter you accomplished today?” He glanced at pieces of dead people. “These people were not Life's Champion either. Most of them weren't even armed.”

“If they did not wish to die,” and Abaddon sheathed its lightning blade, “they should not have attacked me.” The blade stopped glowing as it slid into the sheath on the demon's back. “How do we awaken Life's power?”

Trell was within ten paces now. “I don’t know.” He did not lower his sword and did not stop walking.

“Does she?” Abaddon pointed at Kara.

Trell glanced over his shoulder. Kara stood with arms out and eyes closed. She painted a series of bloody glyphs in a line on empty air. What was she planning? What would happen if she attacked?

Anylus was not glyphing. He just watched, arms crossed and face drawn. If the royal adept couldn't stop this demon, no one in Tarna could except Trell.

He could not risk battling it here. Too many people would die. Trell knew how to end this now, and also knew Kara would never allow it. So he would not give her a choice.

“I have a counter-offer,” Trell said. “I will leave with you. We will search for a way to regain Life's power and once we do, we'll duel. You may try for your revenge.”

Abaddon sought one thing only: a chance to avenge the defeat it had suffered at Trell's hands. It was strange to find such single-minded purpose in a demon, but Trell could use that. He could lead this demon away.

“Trell!” Kara shouted. “Step aside!”

Trell didn't move. So long as he stood between them, he suspected, Kara's glyphs could not touch Abaddon without harming him. This was how he would save everyone.

“Leave with me.” Trell offered his hand. “Slaughter no others. Promise this and I swear I will remain with you until we can duel as you wish.”

Abaddon said nothing. Trell wondered if a face waited behind its skull helmet, and what that face might look like.

“Move!” Kara shouted again. “Dammit, Trell, I've got this! Get out of my way!”

Abaddon inclined its head. “I accept.”

It extended an armored hand and took Trell’s raised arm. He found its grip surprisingly light, similar to Prince Beren's. They broke and Trell turned to face Kara, Anylus, and Tarna.

“Abaddon has agreed to withdraw! We're leaving!”

Kara’s blood glyphs vanished as she stepped forward. “Not a chance!”