The Nightstone (28 page)

“We’re in Demia?” Kehet asked.

“I know you cannot travel between the worlds on your own,” Beldithe said. “I can go anywhere, but I tend to stick to where I have the most influence, Mealth. But, I wanted to see how your friends fared and I’m sure you’d like to see Heather do her thing.”

Kehet could see the portal clearly and by adjusting his perception, it seemed as if he were standing just feet away from the structure.

A woman’s voice, with even more purr than Beldithe at her most seductive, brought Kehet’s attention back to where he stood. A crimson skinned woman with glowing gold eyes and a pair of bat-like wings waving gently from her back stood with Beldithe. She wore a gown made of pale blue translucent crystal chain links. “Something is about to happen at the portal?” the woman asked.

“Yes,” Beldithe said. She nodded to Kehet, “He won’t remember you.”

The woman held a hand out toward Kehet and said, “They call me Lady Glacia.”

Kehet carefully took her hand a kissed it. “I take it you know me,” he said.

“Not as well as I’d like,” Glacia purred. Unlike when Beldithe was being seductive, when the demoness spoke, Kehet felt like he was prey. It unnerved him slightly.

“She’s doing it on purpose,” Beldithe said. “With Glacia it’s more about the power than the conquest.”

“And with you it’s all about the experience without agenda,” Glacia said. “We all have our means and our reasons. If you are here, Pantros is coming to seek a more permanent conclusion to this game.”

“Game?”
Beldithe asked.

“Everything is a game,” Glacia said. “This one is my game. I wanted to see if I could get a pesky minor lord to destroy himself.”

“By helping him
try
to conquer our world?” Beldithe asked. There was nothing seductive in her voice as she spoke.

“Relax, pretty,” Glacia said, still with a purr in her voice. “No demon has ever successfully conquered a mortal world. None have lasted more than a season. And I have the benefit of knowing of proof that Pantros will survive at least long enough to father a son.”

Beldithe looked at Kehet and he knew that she knew what Pantros had done the night before. “You think?” Kehet asked.

“He did, and it’s done,” Beldithe said. “There’s no guarantee of his safety today.”

“Well,” Glacia said, “Then the show is about to get interesting. It’s always a bit boring when we know how the ending will go.”

“The portal opens,” Beldithe said.

Kehet shifted his perspective back and saw Heather step through a shimmering mist. She looked around, spread her arms to the sky and took a deep breath. The demons around her gathered close to her but none made any aggressive action toward her. Heather closed her eyes and released her breath. Halfway through the exhale, Kehet’s perceptions became nothing but a bright orange light. He felt his skin singe.

“Ouch,” Beldithe said. Without shifting his vision back, Kehet knew the fire had reached where he, Beldithe and the demoness stood.

When the flames passed, Heather stood nearly alone on a sheet of black glass more than a league across. Only a couple dozen of the demons had survived on the ground, but those that were there were among the largest. One drew a huge sword of flame from his back and started to step towards Heather.

“That would be Murdread,” Glacia said. “He’s a tough bastard.”

Murdread wore black and gold armor that covered every inch of his huge figure, even covering his wings.

Heather stumbled and fell back through the portal. Two breaths later Estephan came running through with Marc close behind. Mirica followed and stopped just a step from the portal. She extended her hands to the ground and threw a jet of air so dense that Kehet could see it at the ground. Of course, Kehet realized. The ground was still hot. Adria came next, loosing an arrow as she stepped to Mirica’s side. The arrow pierced a demon through the chest, dropping it. Sheillene came next and took a moment to pick her target. She chose the demons closest to Marc and Estephan.

“I thought Pantros was coming too,” Kehet said.

“He’s there,” Glacia said. “He bends light around him. He’s not invisible, but if you don’t know where to look, you won’t notice him. Right now he’s behind that demon flanking the archers. See, that was his sword that tore through the demon’s heel.”

Kehet was able to see Pantros after that. The king of thieves was staying close to the portal.

The first to reach Murdread was Estephan. Mirica’s air blasts had been able to make the large demon stumble, but did nothing more. Estephan threw his shoulder into Murdread’s thigh and swung Bryan’s sword towards the demon’s knee. Murdread dropped a hand from his sword and swatted at the prince with a huge claw. Estephan flew several paces before landing with a crash of metal. Murdread was still holding the prince’s breastplate. He threw it at the fallen prince with enough force to roll the prone body of the prince. A puddle of blood began spreading from Estephan’s chest onto the glass-like ground.

Kehet reached out to aid the prince, but Kehet’s body was not the same place as his perceptions.

“You cannot help,” Beldithe said. Kehet knew it to be true. He had to let the battle play out without divine intervention.

Mirica’s wind then started throwing demons into the few remnants of walls near the portal. Between the arrows, and the Sorceress’s magic, it was only a moment before only Murdread stood fighting Marc. The man, who Kehet considered a giant, looked tiny beside the demon lord. For several passes, the two dodged each other’s swings, throwing attacks that served no other purpose than to feel out the defenses of their opponent.

Murdread took the first serious swing at Marc’s side. Marc tried to parry, but the blade of Murdread’s flaming sword was made of nothing but fire and passed around Marc’s sword as if it wasn’t there. Marc stumbled back. There was a charred gash across Marc’s chest armor, but he wasn’t bleeding. When Marc swung back, Murdread blocked with his arm. Even the Abvi made swords didn’t penetrate the demon lord’s armor. Murdread cackled a roaring, mocking laugh.

Marc then was forced to go on the defensive. Instead of blocking the flaming sword on the blade, Marc was throwing blows at the cross-guard of Murdread’s sword. Though smaller, the man was clearly as strong as the larger demon lord.

Marc’s parries were holding Murdread’s sword away, though the giant now had his back to a wall.

Estephan climbed to his feet and staggered over to stand behind Murdread. Estephan raised the Blade of the Baron above his head and just held it there.

“Prince,” Marc yelled. “Why aren’t you killing this guy?”

“I can’t strike a foe from behind,” Estephan said. “I just can’t bring myself to do it.”

Hearing Estephan speak must have gotten Murdread’s attention. The demon lord
spun,
his blade even with Estephan’s neck.

Estephan didn’t waver. He brought the Blade of the Baron down, cutting through Murdread’s skull and deep into the demon’s chest.

It was one of Marc’s blades that deflected the flaming sword up and over Estephan’s helm. The flaming sword then fell from Murdread’s hand as the demon slowly slumped to the ground.

Estephan fell over on top of the demon.

“Prince!”
Marc yelled. He dropped his sword and pulled Estephan away from Murdread. The giant rolled the prince on his back. There were two deep cuts all the way across the prince’s chest. Kehet could see a splintered rib jutting from the lower of the two.

“I can help now,” Kehet said. He stepped back and changed into a Unicorn then leapt from the balcony.

“Wait!” Beldithe cried. Kehet felt a tug on his tail as he fell toward the ground. Suddenly the ground was much closer. He landed hard just a step away from Estephan. Beldithe lay on the ground behind him. “Gravity is unforgiving,” she moaned as she crawled to her feet. “Being able to move between worlds means I can use the same methods for somewhat shorter trips.”

Kehet nudged Beldithe’s shoulder to show his thanks and then rushed to Estephan. He touched his horn to the prince’s wounds. The bones slid back into place and then the flesh closed. The prince, however, did not awaken. He touched his horn again to the prince’s skin, but Estephan did not stir.

Frustrated, Kehet changed back to his human form to ask Beldithe, “Why isn’t this working?”

“You can mend flesh and remove fatigue,” Beldithe said. “As a god, you can even mend bone. You cannot make blood. Prince Estephan has lost quite a bit of
it,
probably so much that consciousness is difficult. He breathes, though.” Kehet noticed the slight movement of Estephan’s chest. “I suspect he will be fine after a few days of rest.”

“Can you heal a bit of a burn?” Marc asked and pointed to his chest.

“I’m sure I can,” Kehet said. “Well, mostly sure, anyway.”

“Wait,” Marc said. “Maybe I’ll want the scar. They say scars are stories.”

“Scars are stories,” Beldithe said. “I usually prefer the pure beauty of unmarred flesh, but there are always exceptions.”

“You’ve got the memory, my goddess,” Marc said. “I would not be averse to giving you another.”

“A tryst is nothing more,” Beldithe said. “I’ll treasure the memory of our night. Adding another would only diminish the one I have.” She stepped over and kissed Marc’s wound. The charred flesh healed instantly into a mottled scar. “You’ve already captured another heart. I shall not interfere again.”

“Who?”
Marc asked.

“Is this really the place to talk about affairs of the heart?” Pantros asked. Kehet hadn’t noticed his approach. The thief then said, “Should we go home, maybe?”

Mirica stood by the gate and gestured for them to run.

Beldithe walked toward the gate, unrushed. Marc handed the Abvi Swords to Pantros and picked up Estephan. Kehet picked up the Prince’s sword. It was heavier than his sword, but not as heavy as it looked like it should be.

Demons were standing at the edge of Heather’s destruction, but none stepped closer. The walk to the portal was unhindered. Kehet passed through last. Aven had the portal closed just behind him. Beldithe was already gone when Kehet returned to Mealth. Heather lay on a pile of blankets.

Kehet stepped over, changing to a Unicorn as he did, and touched his horn to Heather’s arm. She awoke with a smile.

Kehet returned to his human form and knelt beside Heather. “You got to push your abilities,” Kehet said. “How do you feel?”

“Exhilarated and scared,” Heather said. “That damage was far more than Blackstone. If I did that here, now, I’d kill just about every Abvi in the whole kingdom. Nothing of this city would be standing.”

“I cannot stay here,” Heather said after Kehet didn’t comment.

“I’ll take you as far away as you like,” Kehet said.

“No,” Heather said. “Your place is here. You have worshippers and friends and kings who rely on you. I’ve learned of places where the magic of this world is weaker, where I cannot channel so much power.”

“Velamore,” Mirica said. “The city is supposed to be bereft of magic of any kind. I’ve heard rumors of there being a tiny bit of magical energy, but it’s a very small amount. Then again, no one goes inside the walls except those that are already there and no one ever comes out.

Velamore was a walled island people talked about like it was forbidden to mention, like ghost stories during harvest season. The island had a port town in a cove but outside the city walls. A few men claimed to have seen inside the walls and described a city run by diabolical mechanisms.

“You can’t go there,” Kehet said.

“I need to go somewhere,” Heather said. “Somewhere with less power to channel would mean I can’t explode. Since I can destroy things farther than I can see
,
I can’t just trust a place that’s remote.”

“I know a place,” Thomas said in a quiet voice as he knelt beside Kehet. “It’s a place where there is almost no magic. There would be nothing for Heather to channel.”

“Tell me more,” Heather said.

Kehet heard Thomas’ voice over his shoulder and looked back to see Tara and Thomas laughing with Marc and Pantros.

The Thomas beside him nudged his shoulder. “Don’t draw attention; I’m not ready to explain myself to me yet. Anyway, this place is both far and close. Like Demia it’s another world in another universe. The problem with such a place is that Kehet would not be able to enter that world, ever. You could go there, and return someday, but you could only make each journey once.”

“I’ll go,” Heather said.

“But…” Kehet protested.

“Anywhere I cannot destroy a city is a good place for me,” Heather said.

“I can go to Demia”, Kehet said then asked, “Why can I not go to this other world?”

“You are a god here. Gods are intimately connected to the worlds in which they preside. You can go to Demia because it’s a half this world. Demia is half every world,” Thomas said.

“How do you know so much?” Kehet asked. “Who are you if Thomas is over there?”

“I’m him, just a bit older and wiser,” Thomas said. “I’d say I know everything, but every time I do, someone surprises me. Let’s just say I’ve heard all the stories and told most of them.”

“So how do I get to this world?” Heather said.

“With this,” Thomas held up a crystal with a familiar shape. The crystal scintillated from one color to another, passing through the spectrums. “This is a key to anywhere and I am its keeper.”

“We use the same gate we used to get to Demia?” Heather asked then said, “Please tell me I don’t have to go through Demia to get to this other world.”

“Come,” Thomas said. “I have places to be and you, if I recall, are not one for long goodbyes.”

Kehet and Heather walked hand in hand out of the city. The crowds on the streets, still in the throes of celebration, made conversation impossible. When they arrived at the gate, the Abvi standing guard bowed to Kehet and let them pass.

“Goodbye, my love,” Heather said.

Kehet said. He pulled the ring from the middle finger of his left hand. “Take this. Think of me from time to time. I’ll wait for you.”

“Don’t.” Heather reached out and gave his arm a little nudge. “I don’t know when or even if I’ll be back.” She took the ring from his hand, though,
then
looked at Thomas, “How do I get back here when I’m ready to return?”