Demon Stone

by D E Boske

  Kyler saw the book Darian held in his hands. He’d never seen him with it before. It was unmarked, the cover black leather. It was a costly treasure, the elf knew. The binding was exquisite, the edges of the pages were painted in gold. As Darian paged through it, looking for the map to the tunnels, Kyler noticed it never grew in size. It must be a magical tome! Darian obviously did not want anyone to see it; even Kyler, but he had no choice.

  He called the demon and the grey smoke billowed across the tunnel floor. When the smoke cleared, Sigorna stood tall with a fearsome gleam in his eyes.

  “I am ready Darian,” he growled.

  “Good, I will need you before this is all over.”

  “Will he be safe?” asked Kyler.

  “Aw, you do care!” said Sigorna.

  “He will be fine. He cannot be killed except by my hand as long as we’re bound.”

  A look of alarm crossed the Falahari’s face before he quickly hid it. The Mage was far more clever than he’d given him credit for. How had he found that out? He should have known better, they had a history. He’d known

  Darian for many years now and he still did not know how Darian had learned his name. No matter how many times he asked, the Mage never spoke about it and always changed the subject when the topic came up.

  He was lucky to be bound to such a powerful and intelligent Mage. In the past, he’d been bound to many a Mage who had not the wits of one such as Darian Brade. Each time, he’d been sent on a fool’s mission. A mission not becoming a powerful Falahari demon. A task that could have been performed by the Mage himself. Except that it was a Mage of The Order. They liked to stroke their own foolish pride. The tasks assigned to the demon were beneath a Mage of The Order.

  Darian understood the power of a Falahari and never let Sigorna down. The young Mage had many powerful enemies and had promised that Sigorna would enjoy himself before this was all through. He wondered how long this quest would last. Sniffing the air, he caught the scent of the dragon. Growling deep in his throat, he looked Darian in the eye and nodded.

  Darian could see the sincerity in Sigorna’s gaze and it made him falter for a millisecond. When he looked again, all he saw was fearsome hatred. His leathery wings were outstretched, his tail curling up to reach the middle of his back. Maybe he’d imagined it?

  They followed the tunnel for more than three miles before the stench of the dragon became overwhelming. Before long, they could hear voices and muffled whimpering. Tynuviel! Kyler grabbed Darian’s arm, keeping him from running in blind. So far, it appeared the wyrm had no idea they were here.

  The dragon’s booming voice was heard giving orders to some unseen foe. The stench of goblin’s filled their nostrils. The demon closed his eyes, leaning back, aroused by a battle that was so close to fulfillment. It was a terrifying sight.

  The Mage made eye contact with Sigorna, making sure he understood what he was to do. The demon nodded his understanding, flexing his muscles and clenching his fists.

  Walking the last mile or so was almost too much for the Mage to bear. The sound filtering to them was distorted. Sound carried in the tunnels, but it was hard to follow and discern one voice from another.

  When at last they were upon the lair, Tynuviel could be heard whimpering and crying freely. There was another voice that none present recognized. Morphindinaetlus chuckled lewdly and the goblins snuffled.

  The companions burst into the room and the huge chamber exploded into chaos.

  ﴾﴿ ﴾﴿ ﴾﴿

  Kelindril and his Gor Li’ Khan continued to follow in Kyler’s footsteps. The forest kin hid their passage well, but they were Gor Li’ Khan. The assassins had no trouble reading the signs and following them.

  They must have an elven mage with them who used his magic to hide the shelters from sight. But the elves were sensitive to the Weave and felt it as soon as they drew near. It was but a small ripple. Morphindinaetlus would pay it no mind. To catch his attention, it must be powerful.

  There were many magical creatures in Corillia. If the wyrm were to search out every tug on the Weave, he would be exhausted, frustrated and angry. No, he would think nothing of this because he was too arrogant to believe anyone would dare come to his domain to attack him. Though surely he must realize the elves would launch an attack for the abduction of the princess of Kiri A’ Nouell.

  The dragon had to know they would never let her remain in his custody. Dead or alive. The elves and Morphindinaetlus were mortal enemies whose hatred went back before the Niv Dol’ Meh. The war of all Faerie creatures that battled against the Dark Mages and demons until the Dark Mages were destroyed and the demons banished. Whenever their paths crossed, the Magical Weave vibrated with raw power, clashing in a terrible, frenzied burst.

  When in service to Mogan Dar, Kelindril had been given the opportunity to peruse the library. Of course under strict observation. He was only allowed to read the volumes on history, nothing of the magical arts. He didn’t mind. He wasn’t interested in magic anyway. He read everything he could find on the free peoples of Corillia. He became fascinated by the thought of the elves being one. At first, the very idea was objectionable to him. But the more he read, the more intrigued he became.

  Though he had no desire to live there, the fact that they were one people… Kelindril tried to imagine living in the forests of Kiri A’ Nouell. He understood and accepted that the elves at one time had been one people. Most elves could not remember their long ago union. He knew of many Gor Li’ Khan in Kaleika Bay who did not believe the elves ever lived together under the forest canopy. In fact, most of Kaleika Bay dismissed it as no more than a fairy tale. A lie dreamt up by the oldest living elves to try and unite their peoples.

  For thousands of years, the Lira Tu’ Malay, in common it meant people who change, had lived in Kaleika Bay, separated from their forest kin. Kelindril always wondered the real reason behind the Niri Ku’ Yamma, or the Great Split as it was referred to in common. None of the volumes in the libraries in Mogan Dar spoke of the reasons. He’d asked several Mages, but they did not know either. For some reason, Kelindril had to know why.

  Though the elves were immortal, their memories faded over time. The past fading into distant memory, becoming legend, then myth. So long ago now, only the oldest elves even remembered anymore, half the elves left the forest, making the long and treacherous journey through Blavven Krill to make Kaleika Bay their home. The rest remained in Kiri A’ Nouell. Until very recently, with the departure of Nephraete, their people remained apart. Neither had contact with the other.

  Kelindril did not believe in coincidence. There must be a reason why all of this was happening. Fate was a cruel bitch indeed. All of their lives were about to be changed irrevocably, he could feel it, sense it. The Gor Li’ Khan leader was not sure if he was pleased with the prospect of change or not. He guessed it would depend on what changes were made. He knew in his heart that he would have his answers when he met up with Kyler and Nephraete. He felt something big was going to happen.

  He hoped Nephraete would want to return home. He thought about dragging her by her hair if she refused, but the memory of her Crebellan scrapped that idea quickly. Calisha would never let him close if he knew Kelindril meant any harm.

  He wondered if she’d claimed Calisha as her lover yet. He was sure that’s why they left. Thelarki was forcing her to marry Kryndale; the brave bastard. Kelindril would never take her to his bed with the Crebellan lurking in the background. He’d seen Calisha nearly break an elf in two for a comment directed at the seer that he thought was too vulgar. What would he do to an elf if he knew he took her to his bed? He knew this was why the elves kept their distance from the tiny seer. Otherwise, she’d have had too many suitors to count.

  Kelindril thought back to when he worked with Kryndale. In the beginning, they complimented each other. Even made a good team. But over the course of a five year span, they both began to change. Where once they depended on the other, now they despised each other.
/>
  It became clear they would no longer be able to work together. The communication had stopped, each had shut down, turning inward; only relying on themselves to get the job done.

  As a result, the rest of their detachment had been killed. Both of their hands were stained with Gor Li’ Khan blood that would never wash off. Kelindril had been directly under Kryndale. He was second in command. The others didn’t deserve the fate that was dealt them. He was partly responsible for each and every one of their deaths.

  When they returned to Kaleika Bay angry and defeated, they both got reassigned to another unit. Kelindril was finally given command of his own taskforce. They had become the most feared of the Gor Li’ Khan. Their success rate was over two hundred percent. They acted above and beyond the call of duty to ensure their orders were carried out.

  Every mission they were sent on, their bloodlust grew insurmountably until they became something more than mere Gor Li’ Khan. Thelarki began to use them more and more, especially on the most secretive and reckless jobs. The Gor Li’ Khan flourished under Kelindril’s leadership and they became Thelarki’s most prized possession.

  Their fatal skill was legendary. Their bloodlust feared. When Kelindril was sent on a mission, the recipient knew there was no way out. There would be no bargaining with this one. You could see it in his copper colored eyes. They would die a horrible, agonizing death.

  Some tried to run, which only amused the assassin. His tracking skills were impeccable. He let them get a small head start, toying with their resolve. Sooner or later, they’d make a mistake and they both knew it.

  “Kel, it’s getting dark. We should stop and rest the night,” said Gavil. “We found another one of their camps. We should make use of it.”

  Kelindril only nodded his agreement. He was still too deep in thought. He wondered how they would find a way in without being seen or felt. The mountain loomed in the distance. They should be able to reach it within a day or two.

  They found the shelters easily enough. Though hidden, it seemed they were meant to find them. Hidden only from the creatures who called this desolate place home. The fire was built quickly and supper was warming on the fire when Nymdal pressed a cup of hot tea into Kelindril’s hand.

  “I thought you might like something hot,” he said, beginning to walk away. Most times, Kelindril did not speak to them, preferring his own company.

  “Nymdal,” Kelindril called.

  “Yes?” he asked, a bit surprised.

  “Thank you.” It was said simply, but Nymdal knew Kelindril enough to know he meant it.

  The comment took him by surprise. Though Kelindril took care of them, he was not friendly with them. Since his separation from Kryndale, he’d been friends with no one. Things had obviously not went well for them. Kelindril kept his past tightly closed to any and all. If you got too close, you got your nose chopped off.

  “You’re welcome,” Nymdal replied, walking back to the others.

  Kelindril surprised them all when he rose to join them. They made room for him at once, passing the night talking, telling stories and enjoying each other’s company.

  20

  They reached the base of the mountain just before dawn two days later. Their keen elven eyes searched for any conceivable signs of an entrance. Kelindril did not have a mage with him. He never felt it was necessary before. Now, he wished he would have chosen at least one. Maybe a mage could find a way into this abysmal place.

  Nym came trotting back to Kelindril, flushed with excitement. “I found a way in. There is a doorway concealed by magic. Kyler must have left it propped open for us.”

  Once inside, they made sure the door closed soundly behind them. Utter blackness engulfed them. The air was stale, musty and close. The silence, all encompassing.

  Whelan held a stone that glowed softly in his hand, helping him to follow the footsteps in the dusty tunnel. The elves with Kyler barely left any discernible trail, but the Ni’ Kulana, that was altogether different.

  Whelan bent low to the ground to inspect a print. Dwarves! Kyler traveled with dwarves, so this must be the way he’d come. It was slow going, the tunnels twisted and turned back on themselves.

  They’d begun to doubt following this trail any further. That is, until finding dwarf boot prints in the dust. This tunnel had seen no use until very recently. They walked for two hours before beginning to hear reverberations of sound.

  They continued to follow the trail as quickly as they could. It was evident a great battle was being fought the closer they got.

  Abruptly, the tunnel straightened out. This must be the heart of his lair. The clash of steel on steel created an eerie song that was difficult to dance to. Unless you were a Gor Li’ Khan.

  Light spilled out into the passageway. They were right on top of them. A soft whining from someone or something… A scream.

  Running the rest of the way, the Gor Li’ Khan burst through the huge, unhewn doorway. It was like flinging themselves into an angry abyss filled with fire and lightning. Although quite truthfully, that may have been preferable.

  A quick look around showed an elf female naked, bloodied and chained to the wall. A dirty, disgusting goblin stood over her, fondling himself as he watched her cringe.

  She tried without success to free herself, but her bonds were far too strong. The goblin tired of the game and drew a long dagger, meaning to filet the elf. From out of nowhere, a Falahari demon appeared, slicing the goblin in two with its hard black nails.

  Kelindril’s mouth fell open at the sight of the demon. Whose side was it on anyway? Should they attack it? The more he watched, the more he understood that the demon was protecting the elf. What? He thought.

  The chamber was filled to bursting with goblins. The dragon was in the adjacent chamber, expelling flames at the company. And then the Gor Li’ Khan got the biggest shock of all. In the midst of the battle, stood two identical Mages of The Order, battling each other.

  Simultaneously, as the Mage battled an image of himself, he also called upon his staff, blocking the flames with a wall of ice. Kelindril knew this Mage was powerful, he could feel the magic’s potency radiating from him. Briefly, he wondered if this was the rogue The Order searched for. Now was not the time to dwell on it.

  Kelindril ordered his elves to attack only goblins for now, until they knew for sure what in Shenna’s name was going on. Blending in with the rough-hewn walls, they flowed through the ranks of goblins, killing them by the score. Foul smelling black blood spilled to the floor, leaving it slick and dangerous.

  Kelindril grasped his long dagger and plunged it into the thigh of a goblin passing by. The goblins could not see them and had no defense. When it turned to face its enemy, howling in pain, Kelindril’s keen blade sliced its belly open, spilling its entrails into a steaming pile on the floor. He spotted Kyler, he was unmistakable. The resemblance to Galavad was obvious, but the young elf got an extra helping of good looks. Make that two.

  Then he spotted Nephraete. In the heat of the battle he could not make it to her side. Then he saw Calisha materialize by her side. The Crebellan looked straight at Kelindril, his eyes conveying a silent message. Do not interfere! The Gor Li’ Khan nodded faintly, acknowledging he would not. How had Calisha known he was there?

  The Crebellan was not the only one to take notice of the newcomers. Kryndale and the other Gor Li’ Khan sensed them as well. Could literally pinpoint their location.

  The Knights went straight for Morphindinaetlus, slashing and hacking in a fury. Most of the attacks went unheard by the dragon’s thick scaly hide. A few made it through, but were only superficial.

  Sigorna stayed by Tynuviel’s side. Every time he tried to free her, more goblins came pouring through the doorway. Does he have an endless supply of these garbage suckers? Thought the demon. Little slimy bastards! He wanted to free her, but even if he did he could not leave Darian. She would never survive Oblivion. Not in the broken, damaged state she was in. He knew the Mage was fully a
ware of her condition. He just wasn’t letting himself acknowledge it. Yet. That would be dangerous later when he went to heal her. He might lose his temper, probably lose his control or his composure or very likely, all three. Sigorna would keep an eye on him. Watch him to see how he would handle the situation. It would determine much for their future.

  Morphindinaetlus was furious. Knights of Shorlan! How dare they come here of all places. Why were they even working with the damned Mage? How could they possibly know what was going on? He swiped savagely at them with his long, curved claws. He could not penetrate their heavy armor, but he left dents wherever he struck.

  Tansher went down hard landing on his back, his head bouncing off the floor with a bone jarring thud.

  “Tansher! Takasha are you alright?” Firehawk scrambled over to check on his captain. Blood oozed from the corner of his mouth.

  “Firehawk look out!” cried Thane.

  Firehawk looked up just in time to see the wyrm’s clawed appendage come crashing down. He blocked Tansher from the blow accepting the full force of the attack. He flew backward to crash into the wall, lying very still.

  The dragon growled in pleasure. The captain of the Knights lay unprotected and within easy reach. He drew in air preparing to roast the elf in his armor. He would eat him later when they were all dead.

  He let loose his flames, but damn Darian protected the downed Knight, encasing him in a protective shield. He roared in anger and despite the fact that they were all seasoned warriors, they all cringed to the last man. The sound was utterly terrifying.

  Two Knights rushed forward to grasp Tansher and pull him from the battle. The rest of them attacked furiously, covering for the retreating Knights.

  Darian appeared to be battling himself. The Mage before him was cloaked in a powerful illusion. Upon their entrance to the vast chamber, he’d been standing over Tynuviel pulling up his pants with a wicked leer on his face.