by Mark Eller
* * * *
Larson awoke to agonizing pain. From a faint light in the corner, he saw he again lay at the bottom of the steps. “Oh, no,” he whispered, turning his head to the side. His arm. Gone. Only a charred stub remained.
Stifling a cry, Larson vowed he wouldn’t scream like a woman. By the goddess, he was a knight of the Order of the Sword and the Staff. He would not dishonor Anothosia in such a base and cowardly way.
Something crunched.
Larson tensed.
“Mm— delicious,” a husky voice murmured. “Never knew a knight could be so tasty. I wonder if your soul will be as good.”
Squinting toward the voice, Larson had to focus his blurred vision. A squat, man-shaped thing, naked and covered in blood, hunkered by the wall, casually chewing as it pulled at the sinewy remains of Larson’s arm. Bile rose in Larson’s throat when he saw shreds of his charred flesh caught between the hellborn’s long teeth.
“Truthfully, I would’ve preferred your flesh raw instead of cooked, but we can’t have everything, can we?”
Stomach lurching, Larson vomited.
“My, my— how the mighty have fallen,” a woman’s soft voice chuckled.
Jerking his head around, made the room spin. Sulya leaned against the stone wall near the hellhole, smirking. Her long, black tresses had been pulled back into a top knot. Her visible skin had changed to a strange puce. Instead of Anothosia’s shining armor, she wore black, spiked armor with a cat of nine tales insignia inlaid in its breastplate. Zorce’s mark.
“So tell me, Larson, do you like my new pet? Bent, come say hello to your dinner.”
Growling, the devil lumbered forward. “Your pet, Sulya? I ain’t your pet. If you ever address me so again I’ll drag you down to Hell and show you the true meaning of pain.”
Sulya’s smirk widened into a feral grin. Her color darkened into a putrid orange that seeped and oozed like slime over her exposed skin. It pulsed with a life of its own, almost as if it could crawl off her body and become a separate creature.
Larson tried to move, tried to inch away from her, but his remaining limbs had become leaden. He had no feeling from his knees down.
“Bent, you will be anything I wish you to be,” Sulya told the hellborn. “If I tell you to bugger yourself, you will do so.” She pushed away from the wall. “Now step off and stay the hell out of my way until I tell you to move!”
Snarling, Bent leaped across Larson to land in front of Sulya.
Sulya struck as soon as he landed. Orange light exploded from her hand, crashed into the devil, sent it cartwheeling back across the room. When it hit the wall with a solid thunk, Bent screeched and fell into a wiggling mass. Composure lost, it reverted back to its true shape of scales, horns and claws.
“Bitch,” Bent growled. “You’ll pay for that!”
Eyes gleaming, Sulya laughed. “Really? I belong to Zorce. To offend me is too offend him. Shall I tell him you challenged his general?”
Snarling, Bent picked himself up from the floor, but said nothing more.
“I didn’t think so.” Sulya looked smug, victorious.
Zorce’s general? Larson’s throat seized. Calto was in greater danger with this woman than he had suspected. His brother had to be warned, but how?
Larson struggled to make his body move, but the numbness spread rapidly. Thoughts of his unfulfilled mission swam in his head, drowning him in regret. He would never hold his wife or daughter again. He wouldn’t be around to protect the two beings capable of saving the world. Would Zorce’s minions go after them next? Did Sulya know the secret? He didn’t think so, but was unsure. What if Calto had revealed it to her? What if there were demons at his home right now defiling his wife and child?
“Now, where was I?”
Sulya came closer and stood beside him, smiling while her gaze roamed up and down his broken body. “What a waste.” Tsking, she rolled Larson to his side.
Sweet goddess, what was she going to do to him now?
Releasing her hold, Sulya allowed his body to roll onto its back. “Where is it?”
Larson coughed. The bitter taste of metal filled his mouth. “Where is what?” he managed.
“The sword. That damned blessed sword of your bitch goddess.” She didn’t give him time to answer. Instead she grabbed the lantern and furiously searched first the ground, and then between and on top of the liquor crates.
After long minutes of searching, she came back and glared at him. “Where. Is. It.” She punctuated each word with a vicious kick to his ribs. Larson heard them breaking but felt nothing.
“Fuck you,” Larson muttered. “D’you think I snuck around and hid it while you stood over me?” Weary and exhausted, he sighed. He wanted to get up and run her through with his belt knife, wanted to make her pay for her betrayal, but the numbness tugging at his brain made him too lethargic to move.
Eyes narrowing, Sulya’s gaze slid slowly to the devil. Following her gaze, Larson saw the beast had almost finished eating Larson’s arm. “You!” She turned to face Bent fully, her orange skin glowing brighter.
Dropping the arm’s remnants, the devil backed against the wall.
“I can't touch the blade. It’s goddess blessed.” Bent tried to restore its human features. They wavered into focus like a mirage, only to fade again. “Though I did see something glow and then disappear when the lamp was lit.”
Sulya stepped forward in a blur. Bent’s face seemed to explode in a spray of bloody fire as her fist struck its jaw. Howling, the beast reached for her, but when its hands made contact they too burned. Its scream sounded like that of a thousand damned souls. Arms flailing, he flung himself away from her.
Cursing, Sulya rounded on Larson. He cringed but to no avail. She kicked his body and face, sending him rolling across the floor with the force of her blows. Larson tried to cry out, tried to beg her to stop, but his head was cracked and bleeding, and his mouth was full of broken teeth. Finally, energy spent, she stood above him, chest heaving and eyes closed.
His vision wavering, Larson felt no pain. He heard a distant wind gently blowing through trees and smelled lilacs as a blanket of peace settled over him. Before him, Sulya’s face faded away, and her voice grew distant. For a moment, his vision cleared, allowing him to see her eyes open. Looking much calmer, she laughed. “Damn. Didn't mean to fuck you up that badly. Zorce’s poison is potent. Made me go berserk.”
Vision once again fading, Larson became a thing of air as the room grew bright. Sulya’s faint form disappeared. In her place stood a woman of gold and white, her smile welcoming, appearing more beautiful than even his glorious Ani. One hand reached out, beckoned, and Larson followed.
