Legion

by Catrina Burgess

  “Even a lowly soldier such as you? Already my powers are greater than yours. You may be a guest at my ascension, or perhaps part of the sacrifices. We will have to see. In the meantime, I have only a small request for you, and then we will send you back.”

  The demon changed his tactics quickly. “Are you sure, my lord? We could be of great use in the preparation. We know all rituals, spells, and glorious sacrifices that can be done. Your ascension could be the greatest in a millennium!”

  “I need no help from a minor soldier. My fate has already been written. All I need from you is a small sacrifice. The Queen of the Dead requires it to come into her full powers. She would owe you a debt, and that is no small thing.”

  The demon turned its snake eyes toward me. I tried not to flinch under the scrutiny. It considered me for a long moment before turning its attention back to Gage. “It doesn’t look like much, my lord. I can see our taint is already on it. It will be ours one way or the other very soon. How would helping it aid the cause of the masters?”

  “Look again. Her blood carries the path to the bridge between worlds, the path that your masters have sought for a hundred years, the path that has been closed since the last of the demon hunters were killed by angry mobs.”

  The demon looked back at me and I fidgeted uncomfortably. After a moment, its gaze switched to Jamie. “This one has it, too, and she has already been opened to our use. Would she not be a better choice?”

  “Perhaps, but she is still too young to come into her full powers,” Gage said. “It will take nearly a decade for her to be a serviceable tool. I am sure that your masters would understand the delay. And your part in it.”

  The demon stared unblinkingly at Gage. It gave me the general impression that it was trying to decide whether or not to try and kill him. Finally, it relented. “What do you require of us?”

  Gage smiled. “Nothing you would miss. Just a small bit of your horn.”

  The demon rocked back on its heels, moving cautiously away from Gage and talking quickly. “That is not possible. Our horn would not serve for the great lord’s purposes. If the lord will allow, we will find you a more powerful horn for your spell.”

  Gage moved forward aggressively, grabbing the demon around its throat and swinging the knife in a long, vicious arc. It struck the demon’s skull just below the horn, slicing off the horn as well as a large chunk of its scalp.

  The beast’s mouth opened and screamed, and in that shriek were dozens of voices calling out in outrage and pain.

  Gage released the demon, which crawled away to the far side of the pentagram, holding its head and muttering in the disturbing demon language.

  Gage walked calmly to where the horn lay in a puddle of black blood. He bent to pick it up, stopping to lick the demon blood off of his fingers. He stepped out of the pentagram without looking back, marching to the table Mildred had set up against the wall.

  The demon watched him go, hate and fear obvious on its face.

  I shook myself out of my shocked stillness and approached Gage, but Luke slipped around me, blocking my path to the table. Hellfire flickered along his hands.

  I was too weak to argue, so I watched as Mildred took the horn from Gage’s hand with distaste. “I don’t need this much. Just a small piece would have done.”

  “Are you feeling sorry for the creature? I can give it back if you want, but I’ve always found that you should acquire a surplus of rare ingredients when the opportunity…” Gage was cut off abruptly as Dean’s armored form slammed into him.

  Dean smashed Gage against the stone parapet, his hands crushing Gage’s throat. Gage was taller than Dean, but his feet were still lifted from the ground as Dean throttled him. “Why did you have to kill her?! Not happy just screwing up her life—you have to slaughter her like a pig!”

  Gage didn’t try to fight back. Instead, he just peered curiously at Dean. Gage didn’t seem to be in any distress, but my heart still fluttered in response. I took a shocked step back. I was worried about a man who had just brutally murdered his girlfriend. I felt disgusted at myself. I knew I had no control over my emotions when I was around Gage. The spell was powerful, but a part of me felt ashamed I wasn’t strong enough to fight against it.

  I turned to look back at the pentagram. The pillar of fire had almost completely consumed Sonja’s body, but one pristine arm lay on the floor next to the flames. Red, brightly painted nails glittered in the flickering candlelight.

  As I watched, the demon scuttled forward, snatched the arm, and retreated again. It began to gnaw eagerly on the arm.

  With a shudder, I turned away before I could be sick.

  Luke cleared his throat. “Dean, I’m not sure if you actually want an answer, but if you do, you’re going to have to stop strangling him.”

  Finally, Dean jerked his hands away and stepped back.

  Gage collapsed in a heap, taking long deep breaths but otherwise looking unruffled as he climbed back to his feet. “I do what is necessary, what others are unwilling, unable to do. That is what makes me stronger than you’ll ever be. I do whatever has to be done, no matter how distasteful.”

  I sputtered, “Distasteful! Is that how you describe a murder?”

  “Not usually. I generally enjoy a good murder, but I had invested a lot of effort into Sonja. Not only was she a beautiful and compliant bedmate, she had power and connections that I still had plans to use.” Gage looked at Luke and Dean. “I would have happily chosen someone else, but you tied my hands with that binding spell.” He looked back at the demon crouched in the middle of the pentagram. “The sacrifice wasn’t accepted. The door was open, but not even a minor demon would come for such a minor gift. If I had not acted, you would soon be dead. I repeat, I did what was necessary.”

  My stomach turned. Another person died because of me. The fact that I had not wielded the knife was scant consolation. Gage had killed her to save me. To save himself more likely, but I was still the cause of her death. I tried to tell myself that death was preferable to a life of servitude to a psychopath, but I didn’t really believe it. Where there is life, there is hope. And now Sonja had no life, no hope. She had died a pointless death.

  Mildred ignored us all as she stood at the table and concentrated on preparing the spell. She sliced a thin sliver from the horn and then ground it up thoroughly in a stone mortar with a pestle. When it was a fine powder, she dumped it into a slowly simmering pot. The fluid turned blood red immediately, and its surface seemed to writhe as if bundles of worms were wrestling under the surface. It didn’t steam; instead black smoke floated slowly from the surface, carrying thick strings of black ash. Mildred used thick gloves to pick up the pot, pouring some of the mixture into a heavy stone mug. She quickly set the pot back onto the fire, pulled off the smoking gloves, and dropped them to the floor, where they slowly dissolved into a pile of ash. Mildred carefully picked up the mug and walked toward me, gently shoving Luke out of her way and extending the mug.

  All conversation stopped and every eye turned to watch as she stood in front of me, mug extended. I stared down into the cup, unwilling, unable, to make myself take it out of her hands. Its contents swirled restlessly, its surface never quite still or flat. It didn’t behave like a normal liquid, and the thought of pouring it down my throat was terrifying.

  “It is simple, child. Drink or die,” Mildred said.

  A breeze blew a wisp of the smoke in my face, and the smell of blood and sulfur made me gag. “It looks like something is alive in there. What is it?”

  “Not really alive, but near enough. The essence of a demon is hiding inside you. This will track it down and kill it. It will save you, but I don’t promise that the process will be pleasant,” she answered.

  “Will it hurt?” I asked, trying to force back the fear building inside me and the bile rising in my throat.

  “Oh yes. If the demon’s poison has spread too far, it may even kill you.” She looked straight at me, and the mug never wavered in her h
ands. “It’s your choice, child. Take the potion and possibly die, or don’t take the potion and definitely die.”

  It really wasn’t much of a choice. With trembling hands, I reached out and accepted the mug. Surprisingly, it wasn’t hot; it looked a bit like molten metal hot from the crucible, but it was only lukewarm under my fingertips. I raised the heavy thing to my lips, forcing myself every inch and trying not to breathe in the foul stench.

  As soon as I tipped it up, the entire contents flowed into my mouth and down my throat. It felt as if a nest of baby rattlesnakes was squirming down my throat, sinking their long fangs repeatedly as they went. I tried to scream and swallow at the same time, but only a gagging burble rose from my lips. The taste was of new blood and rotten meat, mixed with ground up matchsticks. As soon as it was down, my stomach tried to bring it back up. I fell to my knees, retching and gagging, but nothing came up.

  After a moment the nausea eased and I breathed heavily in relief. The worst is past already? I looked up at Mildred with relief, but she just looked back with sadness and pity in her eyes.

  And then the real pain washed over me. It felt as if dozens of burning pokers were traveling through my body from the inside out. Still on my hands and knees, I looked down at my forearms. Something was traveling down the arteries and veins in my arms. My skin bulged and moved as what looked like snakes wriggled painfully along the lines of poison. They advanced toward the black lines, and when they met, a red light began to glow from under my skin. The pain redoubled. The stones of the floor around me began to glow with the reflected light coming from inside me.

  I screamed, overcome by more pain than I had ever felt before, more pain than I thought possible. It overwhelmed me, everything fading into a craven wish for it to end, no matter the cost. If I had the strength, I might have thrown myself from the wall of the castle, but the pain crushed me to the ground, pinning me in agony.

  Finally, blessedly, I passed out.

  * * *

  When I came to, I lay on my side on the hard stones, my head cradled in Luke’s lap. He gently brushed the hair from my face.

  My entire body ached and tingled like it had been asleep and was just now waking up with that classic pins-and-needles sensation. I groaned and attempted to sit up slowly, but needed Luke’s help to make it. “How long was I out?”

  Luke looked relieved. “About twenty minutes, I think.”

  Once on my feet, Luke grabbed me close and hugged me tight, but I could barely feel his arms around me. My body was numb. I felt the pricking all through my limbs. Luke helped me to a chair. I rubbed my hands together, uncoordinated, trying to convince the numbness to pass, but it seemed to take forever for normal feeling to return. I felt tired, but not the bone-weary exhaustion that had plagued me since the demon bit me. I sat unsteadily, kept from toppling over by Luke’s balance more than my own.

  I looked around. The scene hadn’t changed much. The demon still sat in the pentagram, chewing on Sonja’s arm, but all that remained was white bone. As I watched, the beast bit down heavily on one of the two long bones, cracking it open so that it could scoop the marrow from inside with its long curved tongue. I fought down a wave of nausea and looked away.

  Near the table, Mildred and Gage spoke quietly together, occasionally looking at the demon in the pentagram. Jamie and Dean were huddled together in one corner.

  Gage stopped talking to Mildred when he saw that I was conscious and strode toward me, beaming. “Your Highness, I knew you were too strong to die.”

  “Can you knock that queen crap off, Gage? I’m not any kind of royalty.” I pushed myself away from Luke. I felt strong enough to stand on my own two feet.

  “But you are wrong, my love. You are Queen of the Dead, with power over the dead and the wall between their world and our own.” Gage’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “Your ancestor brought forth the Legion. Your blood carries powerful magic. If you so choose, you might rule the world. You could be a queen with me as your humble servant.”

  I rolled my eyes. All that ever came out of Gage’s mouth was a pack of lies. “The word humble coming from your mouth sounds so unnatural.”

  Mildred spoke up from behind him then, her voice quiet with no hint of madness. “I’m afraid, child, that it is true. You have power. It’s up to you what you do with it. You will choose your path.”

  After they were sure that they had cured me and we no longer needed the demon, Gage and Mildred began the ritual that would send it back and close the portal. Mildred’s binding spell still flared strongly around the pentagram, holding the demon and keeping him contained. Mildred told us we had until the candles burned out to send the creature back. The candles had burned down about halfway, so there was still time left to close the portal.

  But then the death dealers arrived, and everything changed.

  Chapter 16

  Darla led the first group out of the north tower. They spread out in a fan from the stairway, and we turned to face them just as another group burst out from the east tower. Soon, dozens of death dealers crowded the rooftop. They circled around us, spreading out to cover us from all angles, and began raising their banshees.

  Darla looked at me, rage oozing from every pore. She didn’t even glance at anyone else; her anger was focused on me alone. Freddy stood behind her, fear and worry just as clear on his face. She took in the demon and the pentagram. There was a sneer on her face when she turned back to me.

  “What do you think you’re doing, traitor? Raising demons, opening a portal to hell!” Darla shouted.

  “It’s not what it looks like, Darla.” Luke advanced on her slowly, his hands raised as if in surrender. “You have to trust me.”

  Darla’s eyes burned with anger as she faced her brother.

  Gage walked calmly forward, moving between Darla and me. “What a pleasure to meet you, my dear. Such authority for one so young—you must be a very special girl. Phoenix Guild, I believe? I haven’t been able to do much damage to the Phoenix Guild; you all run and hide so well. Leaving, of course, your brother guilds to fend for themselves. I’ve met and killed so many of your kind that I’ve lost track. For example, the Gryphon Guild. It no longer exists; that was one of my greatest successes.” Gage looked around at the death dealers. There was no fear in his eyes. “I must thank you for bringing so many of your guild members to me. You’ve saved me a lot of work tracking them down.”

  Darla hesitated, her eyes focusing on Gage for the first time. She looked from me to Gage and then her eyes filled with fear. We had told her all about Gage back at the stronghold—all about the power he wielded and about the men and women who followed him and now she recognized him..

  Darla looked nervously around her.

  Gage gave her a wide smile. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. My name is Gage St. Clare.” He picked up the dagger from the table, slicing it quickly across his palm. Black blood rushed across his fingers, forming into the now-familiar blood sword. He dropped the knife back on the table. “The power I draw from death dealers’ blood is so much more potent than any other. You and your little friends will make a nice snack.”

  Darla’s fear seemed to fade. Anger once again filled her eyes. She looked around at the men and women surrounding her and shouted out. “Take that evil bastard out first!”

  Before Gage could say anything else, Darla’s banshees rushed forward. Luke and Mildred immediately sprang into action to defend me, and Dean stayed in his corner with Jamie, standing in front of her protectively. And then the other death dealers released their banshees until a black cloud of spirits filled the air. Every banshee that the nearly forty death dealers could raise swirled around us like a fog hazing the air and filling every space with the dead.

  And then the huge crowd of banshees rushed toward Gage. The mass of screaming dead washed over him, slashing him countless times as they streamed past him and toward the flaring pentagram.

  A death dealer rushed at Gage, screaming in rage and swinging
what looked like a curved sword. Gage bled from a dozen wounds, but they closed and healed rapidly. He swung the blood sword almost casually, slicing off the death dealer’s arm and watching curiously as the man fell to the ground. Gage stepped forward into the growing puddle of blood. He seemed to draw the blood into himself until the rock below was bare.

  As the banshees crossed the pentagram lines of the binding spell—the space designed to trap demons—the demon rose to meet them, eagerly stepping into their path wherever he could reach them. If a banshee came too close, the demon would snatch it from the air and stuff it into its mouth. Each time, the banshee disappeared in a puff of ash. More and more banshees fell to the demon’s appetite.

  It’s feeding on them, I realized in horror. I began screaming, “Stop! No!”

  The banshees were giving their dark essences to the demon, and with their power, the creature began to change. The demon began to grow at a horrifying rate, swelling from five feet tall to a full head taller than Gage—seven feet. Within minutes the beast became heavily muscled, and its one remaining horn extended by nearly one foot. Fire dripped from the creatures eyes and splashed into flaming puddles on the ground.

  The death dealers didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late. They desperately called back their banshees, but the damage had been done.

  The demon threw back its head and laughed, the awful noise echoing into the night air. Several death dealers clasped their hands to their ears, overcome by the horror of that sound.

  The demon strode to the edge of the pentagram. It raised both fists to strike what appeared to be the empty air over the salt boundary. With each strike, a flash of light flared. The lines of the spell began to glow more brightly, the flame of the candles at each point growing until they were nearly a foot tall and causing wax to burn off of them quickly.