Still holding the skull, Nimby heads back to Quail and stops when he sees a winged form crouched on the hedges. At first, he thinks it is a gargoyle that they never noticed until now, but the demon’s maned head moves when it yawns. Seven-fingered hands grip the edges of the portrait below, the serrated claws digging into the wooden frame. The hair on the creature’s legs is thick and dark brown, the curls reminding the mortals of a sheep. Dropping into the courtyard, the beast stands at its full height to intimidate its prey and reveal the scaly plates that protect its chest. Curling out of its rear, the demon’s barbed tail is a thick coil that occasionally stretches until the entire spine pops.
“My name is Tygog,” the creature says with a small bow. The movement brings its head close enough to sniff at Quail, who tenses at the stench of rotting meat. “You three appear to be lost and it is my job to help those in need. I heard you say that you want to reach the courtyard to meet with your friends. That is within my power if you accept my offer. After all, nothing in this world is free.”
“How are you still alive?” Nimby abruptly asks, catching the monster by surprise. He smiles at how the towering demon nervously coughs and sweats. “I don’t see any food sources besides those sparrows and vines. Something like you needs meat, which is proven by the scraps stuck in your teeth. Where are you finding prey? Is it safe to assume that you find travelers in here and eat them without really helping?”
“Tygog is a Guide Demon who specializes in groups,” Quail answers while hopping back a few steps. Fumbling with a notebook, he uses his teeth to flip open to a page that is dotted with dried blood. “Grandma Babs told me about creatures like him. They can be summoned and attached to more than one location, so he gets food by having multiple contracts. He only helps groups because his payment is always one of the travelers. This is a double trap since the choice is to fight or sacrifice someone, both of which would lead to the group’s destruction. He probably already knows who he wants to eat too.”
“More or less,” Tygog admits, his wide tongue slipping out of his mouth. Hot drool falls into the grass, which grows several inches and becomes forked at the ends. “I take it you’re a mapper given the smell of ink wafting off you and your knowledge of what I am. Yet, you are wrong this time. I want the tiny spirit inside the halfling. Give me that delicious morsel of darkness and both of you can return to your normal, mortal lives.”
“I should be insulted that you think so little of me and my own knowledge,” the Lich replies, making a fist and hardening the black sap on his arm. He returns it to a liquid state and creates talons on his fingers, which glint in the sunlight. “Very cute that you try to make this situation out to be a special case. My friend here isn’t the only one who knows about your type. You eat the flesh and spirit of your victims, which is where this ooze comes from. The tree is filled with the aural refuse that remains after you dine.”
“Please stop playing with that stuff,” Nimby requests with a smirk. Throwing the skull over his shoulder, the thief’s eyes search for an escape route that does not involve leaving Quail behind. “Here’s the problem. We need Tyler to finish our journey. Not that we like him, but he’s essential to our success. Perhaps there is something else we can offer you? Our friends have a possessed toy with them that might interest you.”
The impatient demon frowns and its eyes releasing beams of red light that drift across the clearing. “I never make deals for things that I don’t see for myself. Besides, I took a peek at your friends. That toy would be too much trouble to swallow and not worth the agony. If you had that delicious channeler with you then we could change the deal, but we can only work with what is before us. Between a bland chaos elf, a rotten halfling, and a tasty spirit of nurtured evil, I must go with the one that makes my stomach rumble.”
“What if we refuse your offer?” Quail asks, his good leg quivering from supporting his weight for so long.
“Rejection means I kill all of you, eat what interests me, and wait for new victims.”
“I thought Guide Demons have to leave if rejected.”
“Normally, but I’ve been here for centuries and have made adjustments to my rules.”
“Then, why make a deal in the first place?”
“Because I would be a disgrace to my kind if I didn’t try. Now, who to eat first?”
A blast of shadows strikes Tygog in the chest and peels away the protective plates, exposing his pale flesh. The energy turns into a clawed hand that burrows into the demon and coils around its three hearts. Shuddering against the magic, the creature snarls and hisses at Nimby, who is staring at his skeletal arm. As the bronze ring pulsates and shoves more dark energy into the binding spell, the Lich appears as an illusion. His gaunt body is naked and covered in rotting flesh until part of the darkness separates to wrap him in layers of billowing rags. The demon roars in defiance as the necrocaster’s crimson eyes release daggers that merge with the rest of the spell. Pulling Tygog’s torso apart even more, the Lich is able to insert all of his lethal traps and target all of the vital organs that he can identify. Satisfied with his work, the grinning phantom closes his new servant’s wounds and leaves behind an array of red stitches that release an uncomfortable heat into the connected flesh.
“I have another deal for you,” the Lich whispers while his ghost fades away. Returning to the ring, he shakes off the last of the shadows that sizzle against the grass. “You will bring us to the rest of our group and escort all of us to the crests. Refusal will result in your death. Failure will result in your death. Anything I do not like will be a reason to kill you, demon. Do you understand?”
“Yes, master.”
“I so missed those words.”
14
Leaping through the heat haze at the end of the path, Trinity and Altia whirl around to watch the pursuing sparrows explode against the barrier. Tiny feathers drift into the central courtyard that has nine sealed doors built into the surrounding hedges. Erected in the middle of the cobblestone-covered ground is a marble statue of the Baron, the figure in the same pose as the portraits. Large skulls are at his feet and living serpents slither around the cracks, the hungry reptiles searching for rats and the occasional lizard. A thick boa is sunning itself across the entire length of the dais, the predator moving only to stay within the moving light. Berry bushes with blue leaves make a half circle around the backside of the statue. Ivory butterflies flutter around the fist-sized blossoms that are dripping with a sweet juice that can be smelled from across the courtyard. A pool of clean water sits in a corner where a palm tree has grown high enough to attract the vines, which coil around its upper trunk. Ripe coconuts litter the ground around the plant and many of them show signs of a large creature having tried to eat them. Scanning the open space, the travelers see no animals big enough to leave such bite marks or anywhere that the beast could be hiding.
Trinity takes Vile out of her pocket and examines the toy, which is covered in beak and claw marks. Placing the battered figurine on the ground, she puts a finger to her lips and leads the way to a nearby gazebo. The red paint has blistered and cracked, revealing damp wood that is on the verge of decay. A broken chair has been pushed beneath a metal table that is covered with rust, which flakes off at the slightest touch. Refusing to speak, Trinity signals for Altia to watch their backs while she examines a framed picture. It takes her a minute to recognize the faint lines and words of a map of the maze, an item that she wishes they had hours ago. Out of curiosity, she turns the document over and finds a single word carved into the wooden frame. Running her finger along the rough letters, she struggles to recall the few lessons of ancient Orc that she had in her youth. All she can remember is how to threaten an enemy’s family and the proper way to demand a cow from a rival tribe.
“It means fang,” Vile says from one of the railings. He scrapes some of the paint off and stabs the wood to see how deep his weapon can go. “This structure should have collapsed long ago considering how soft the supports are. I
worry that us entering first has blocked the others from getting inside. We should search for a way to open all of the doors.”
“If those even lead to the other paths,” Altia argues, her eyes locking on movement by the palm tree. Gripping her whip, she walks down the steps and stops when she sees a large rat emerge from the water. “There could be monsters behind them and opening all of the doors would get us killed. It’s obvious that something large lives here. We might have locked it out, which is a lucky break. Unless we’ve doomed the others because now they’re trapped in the maze with an angry predator.”
“Please try to stay positive,” Trinity mutters as she finishes checking the crumbling gazebo for clues. Glancing from the pool to the statue, the channeler scratches her head and tries to decide on their next move. “I don’t like the idea of splitting up, but it isn’t like we’ll lose sight of each other. You two see if there’s anything in the water and I’ll check out those bushes. We’ll tackle the statue together in case the snakes are more than they seem. With our only clue being ‘fang’, I assume they’re dangerous.”
“Actually, it looks like all of them are constrictors,” the red-haired elf points out. With a crack of her whip, she sends a curious rat scurrying away. “Those might be the real danger since they have large teeth. Somebody could have mistaken the big incisors for fangs. Then again, they may have seen a snake and assumed it’s venomous. My head is killing me with all these contradictory thoughts. I’ll go check the pool and tree.”
Trinity waits for the others to be halfway to the pool before she walks a wide circle toward the bushes. Soon after she begins heading straight for the center of the courtyard, the chaos elf gets the sense that something is changing. Slowing her pace and keeping an acid spell on her palm, she watches for signs of movement and repeatedly looks to where her companions are checking the coconuts. Nearly at the berry bushes, Trinity realizes that it has been getting darker as she approaches the statue. Running backwards causes the light to return, so she keeps her eyes on the sky when she makes another advance. Clouds seep out of the sun, which is eventually covered completely and replaced by a faint, white moon. By the time the channeler is within reach of the statue, the landscape has changed from day to night. She looks at the others to see if they notice the transformation, but the pair are busy with their own investigation. From the way they move and shield their eyes, she can tell that they are in a spot that is brightly lit.
A slithering body touches Trinity’s leg and she jumps back with the acid spray spell moving to her fingertips. The green light from her magic reveals that the ground is covered in snakes that are flowing from the skulls. The animals ignore the tense woman as they seek out holes beneath the bushes and escape into the earth. Only the large constrictor looks at Trinity, the serpent rising high enough to stare into her eyes before darting around her. Hoping to revive the sun and reach the others, the channeler backs away until she hits a wall that prevents her from leaving the thickening shadows. A solid punch dents the barrier, but she stops at the sound of a whistle that sends a ticklish wave along her spine.
The gentle tapping of wings on stone draws Trinity’s attention to the top of the statue where the ivory butterflies have gathered. Flying in circles, they leave white streaks in the air that merge to create the silhouette of a svelte woman. With no true details to her form, the guardian resembles an eerie gap in the shadowy night. The butterflies land on her head and combine to form her hair, which runs down to her knees. Walking down the statue, the specter draws a variety of weapons that she repeatedly rejects until settling on a thin rapier. Spinning the sword at her side, the woman skips over to Trinity and salutes as if they are about to have a friendly sparring match.
“Defeat me and you will earn the door,” the phantom declares, her body rippling whenever she talks. The creature remains motionless with her weapon held in front of her face. “A proper fight requires respect. Please show me what I have shown you. If you are worried about your friends then know that they will share in your victory.”
“Can they see this fight?” Trinity asks as she bows at the waist. The instant she stands straight, the phantom attacks and forces her to leap away from the rapier. “I recognize your voice. You told me the correct path. If you really want to help me then please answer my question. Otherwise, I’ll let you win, which would insult your honor.”
“It wouldn’t, but I will reply,” the guardian agrees while floating a few inches off the ground. Holding out her hands, she conjures a dagger and hurls it at the palm tree, which earns no reaction from Altia and Vile. “They see you investigating the bushes and statue. If they had stayed with you then they would have met me. Instead, they are being kept on the outskirts where they are compelled to search every coconut. The water will always make a noise to draw them close, so they are trapped until you either win or die. Now, show me what the power of a channeler is capable of.”
Trinity’s blast of lightning goes through the phantom and explodes against the darkness, which transforms the energy into stars. Diving away from a lunge, the chaos elf attempts a spray of ice that meets the same fate as her previous spell. Forced to fight defensively, she ducks and rolls to avoid getting impaled while unleashing a variety of attacks that are nothing more than wastes of magic. Hurdling the bushes and rushing around the statue, Trinity tries to gain some distance to think, but the guardian sprints through the solid obstacles to cut her off. Casting an oil spell on the cobblestones, the channeler slides under her hovering opponent and flips up to deliver a kick. She feels nothing as her feet enter the ghostly woman, whose two-dimensional form allows her to continue attacking without having to turn around. A wind blast rockets Trinity into the air to avoid a stab at her legs, which are tingling from touching the specter. She cannot stop herself from giggling at the sensation that overtakes her body, her focus breaking as she continues to launch herself around the courtyard.
Regaining her composure, Trinity creates a staff of acid and swings down at her enemy’s rapier. The first strike passes through like all of her other attacks, but the channeler senses that she should try again. The second blow deflects the sword enough that the phantom’s thrust misses by a hair and thuds into the statue. A jab at the guardian’s head fails to do damage, the end of the staff frothing and dripping onto the ground. Settling for being able to defend herself, Trinity blocks all of the incoming attacks while she watches for an opening. She notices the glint of a gem and aims for the spot that would normally be a person’s heart. The staff strikes something solid and a loud crack fills the air, but it is the channeler’s weapon that shatters into tiny shards. Stunned by a magical backlash, Trinity is unable to dodge a slash at her throat. At the last second, she covers her hands in raw aura and catches the spectral blade between her palms. The strength of the phantom drives her to her knees as they push against each other, neither combatant wanting to separate for fear of losing an advantage.
“You’re strong, but weak for a channeler,” the guardian hisses, her blade pushing forward for an instant. It is enough for the tip to cut across Trinity’s chin, which seeps magic-infused blood. “No wonder you lost to the other one. She focused almost entirely on magic while you spread your lessons across many fields. You aren’t that much of a threat when pitted against something that requires only magic to defeat. Unlike this rival I see in your mind, you don’t have the ability to overpower a real challenge.”
“I’ve beaten a lot stronger than you,” Trinity growls through gritted teeth. Flipping the specter over her shoulder, she delivers a blast of energy that becomes a fist and drags the woman across the ground. “Nyx might be stronger, but she’s nothing more than brute force. Even when she uses her head, she aims to overpower her enemies. I prefer style and finesse to being an angry destroyer. Let’s see how you do on the defensive.”
Drawing the pinned phantom back to her, Trinity sprints forward and lands an explosive elbow. A wind spell clears the smoke to reveal that the guardian remains unfaz
ed and is preparing another attack. Knocking the strike aside, the channeler breathes an acidic gas that eats away at her enemy’s form. Thinking she has the advantage, Trinity turns her hand into a wide blade and slams it into the phantom’s chest. Instead of killing the guardian, the chaos elf’s stomach is left open for an easy stab that goes completely through her body. Eyes fluttering and muscles locking, she struggles to remain conscious and clings to the keen rapier even though it cuts her hands.
“So much for finesse and style,” the specter says, twisting her arm to make the wound larger. With a hand around the mortal’s throat, the guardian stretches her arm to lift the woman into the air. “This is unfortunate. I haven’t had a fight in so long and you died so easily. What will happen to your people without you, Queen Trinity?”
The chaos elf grins and presses her fingers into her enemy’s thin flesh. “I’ll ask them when I get home. Forgot to mention that I like being cunning too. One thing I’ve learned about channelers, but never put into practice, is that we can be gluttons when it comes to magic. Not the best table manners either when we give in to our full appetite. By the way, you smell delicious.”
Bubbles appear along the guardian’s arms, which shrink and weaken enough that Trinity is lowered to her feet. The rapier twists and folds into the wound to create a magical patch that heals the internal damage. Refusing to let go of the phantom, the channeler licks her lips and tries not to drool as she absorbs the ancient creature’s energy. Lightning bolts and acidic shields erupt from her body to release some of the magic and make room for more. Cracks form in the night sky, the noise drawing Vile and Altia closer to the statue. With a loud crash, the barrier shatters into ephemeral pieces and reveals the struggling combatants. Trinity sways and fights to maintain her control, the powerful aura of her enemy pushing her into a state of bliss. Shaking her head clear, the channeler focuses on the phantom, which is slowly fading away.
Path of the Traitors Page 28
