by R W Thorn
But Jack and Brigette weren’t the only two people on the floor. The tar man had joined them as well, closer to the door. He was already rising, his grin firmly in place. Jack thought the man must have been carved out of tungsten carbide. Durable beyond belief. The force of the blast would have been too much for Jack to withstand if it had caught him directly. Yet the tar man, aside from a few rips in his jacket, seemed largely unscathed.
Facing him, framed by the gaping hole her magic had created, stood Lennox Valdis.
Jack’s first response was a relief so profound it felt like bliss. Lennox still lived. She had been able to hold her own against the tar man when Jack could not do so. Then that relief turned into worry, because the Lennox standing where the doorway used to be wasn’t the Lennox he knew.
This Lennox was a creature of power. Despite the suppressant she’d taken, she was a raging demon. Clothed in Hellfire magic, her hair stood on end as if charged with static, a white halo that contradicted nearly everything else about her. The demon horns on her forehead were no longer barely noticeable stubs. They were curved, as long as a finger, and looked sharp. Her complexion, normally the color of light coffee, had become as red as a blush, and her eyes were on fire.
She had become madness and fury and hate all rolled into one. Normally a novice with demon magic, now she shaped Hellfire in her hands as if born to it, as if the words of the spells she used were burned into her soul.
As Jack watched in increasing horror, Lennox stalked into what remained of Madame Brigette’s Arcane Emporium. Her focus never left the tar man, and her intention was clear.
She wanted to obliterate him. To rip him apart with her magic. To send the demon blood in his veins straight back to Hell.
This intention must have been plain even to the tar man himself. Yet he still laughed like a madman, like a clown in a horror ride at a carnival. He laughed as if he’d witnessed the world’s greatest joke.
And Jack thought he understood why.
The tar man’s strengths included nimbleness and a durability that seemed all out of proportion given what the Daemon Ocularum showed, and he was also cunningly clever. But it was the man’s ability to produce and control demon spawn that made him a terrifying force that could threaten all of New Sanctum.
Jack didn’t know why the tar man hadn’t used this strength against Lennox already. Perhaps his penchant for offering taunts instead of attacking directly had backfired. Or perhaps she had fought hard enough to keep him off balance.
Either way, it didn’t matter any more. Through chance or design, he no longer needed to conjure his demon spawn to mount an attack.
In here, in what remained of Madame Brigette’s store, there was already demon spawn enough.
As Lennox gathered her power, the tar man stepped backward, past Jack and Madame Brigette, and into the demon spawn mass.
The fire the tar man had set had become no more than a few smoldering embers, but Lennox’s Hellfire magic would do the same job. And Jack feared that Lennox had forgotten what happened when spawn met fire. She looked for all the world as if she wanted to unleash another blast. She began to pronounce the words that turned Jack’s stomach.
But Jack had recovered enough to act.
“No!” he shouted as loudly as he could. At the same time, he used all of his strength to heave himself to his feet and lurched over to stand between Lennox and the tar man.
To the tune of the tar man laughing hysterically at this outcome, Jack tried to make Lennox see reason. “You cannot! If your fire hits the spawn, it will be impossible to stop!”
At first, his words made no impact. The rage and madness in Lennox’s expression didn’t change. Her focus just swapped from the tar man to Jack himself. Jack wasn’t sure she even recognized him.
He felt Amelia stir in his mind. The ghost of his wife took in what was happening in a heartbeat, and Jack felt her exasperation. “Turn away for one minute…” she muttered, but Jack couldn’t spare the attention to listen to her.
And Lennox did recognize him. “Get out of the way!” she snarled.
Jack clenched his fists. “Lennox!” he said. “Listen to me!”
Lennox’s expression took on an overtone of determination. She muttered under her breath, and the Hellfire in her hands swelled and pulsated with power.
Jack feared she would cast it despite his warning. Despite the fact that he stood between her and her target. Nevertheless, he stayed put. With the growing sensation of nausea in his gut, he gritted his teeth, braced for impact, and willed her to stop.
It was a battle of wills in which Jack had everything to lose. This time, Amelia couldn’t help him. Jack’s wife had yet to regain sufficient strength to do more than watch. Nor could she cross the distance between Lennox and Jack without the aid of Jack’s ring.
Despite everything, Jack stood resolute.
And, after long seconds ticked by, he saw Lennox falter. He heard her trip over the words she uttered, then stop altogether. A shadow of frustration briefly covered her face, to be replaced by a hint of confusion.
All at once, she appeared far less demonic. Her eyes returned to their normal shade, and she blinked as if seeing him for the first time.
She seemed human again. No longer ruled by the demon inside her. The suppressant was doing its job.
“Jack?” she said, her voice strangely subdued. She let her ball of Hellfire dissipate. Then part of her determination and anger returned. “How do we kill him?” she demanded. “And the demon spawn. How do we defeat it?”
Jack had no immediate answer, but he didn’t need one. Madame Brigette was sitting up on the floor, rubbing her wrists. Given the ordeal she had just endured, she looked surprisingly well.
“The glyphs,” she said, her voice a harsh croak. “They will work against the demon spawn.” Despite the weakness of her voice, legacy of having to breathe so much smoke, it held a measure of fire and hate that demanded respect. Her anger at what the tar man had wrought against both herself and her shop gave her strength. One look at her face told Jack she was more than anxious for a chance at revenge. “They will work against anything with demon blood in their veins. I can activate them.”
“Do it,” Jack said. The danger to himself meant nothing, but he would do all he could to ensure that Lennox was safe. “Lex, go with her!”
Madame Brigette heaved herself to her feet, but the tar man had other plans. All through Madame Brigette and Jack’s capture, the demon spawn had been largely inert. It had moved enough to keep both of them in place and had drained much of their strength. But the demon spawn Jack and Lennox faced in Mario’s Pizzeria and Bar had been much more mobile.
Jack suspected this was by design, and now the tar man gave him his proof. As soon as it appeared Lennox wouldn’t give him what he wanted, the vile man turned and knelt among the roiling black mass with his hands buried within it. Already, the demon spawn heaved and flowed with far greater animation.
As Madame Brigette started to make her painful way to the door, an extra large pseudopod extended from the loathsome, gelatinous mass toward her.
“Jack!” Amelia said, her ethereal voice not yet back to full strength.
Jack didn’t even need to think. He drew both of his blades and pivoted, placing himself between the pseudopod and Madame Brigette. The woman was the key to defeating the tar man and his spawn. Jack would protect her like he would protect Lennox, like he had protected Amelia in the past: with everything that he had.
If that included sacrificing his very life, then so be it.
With a growl of determination and rage, he crossed his blades and pressed them into the pseudopod flesh. The demon spawn started to whine and blister around the metal, and it gave off the same putrescent vapor as before. But this demon spawn was far bigger than those Jack and Lennox had defeated in the alley. It couldn’t be defeated by Jack’s blades alone.
Although the first pseudopod already withered, others were growing out of the main demon spaw
n body and heading Jack’s way.
Jack did what he could. Cursing with rage, he pressed the flats of his blades against every vile extrusion he could reach. But he didn’t need the tar man’s vindictive laughter to tell him how hopeless his efforts were. Within moments, a tendril slipped past his guard and wrapped itself around his shin, burning him like a branding iron and making him cry out in pain.
It spurred him to redouble his efforts. He didn’t back away or even think to give up. He’d accepted his fate. He just laid about him with his knives as efficiently as he could, pressing them into one tendril after another.
He intended to keep fighting for as long as he could, to give Lennox and Madame Brigette the time they needed to activate the glyphs. What happened after that wasn’t his concern.
As he fought, he felt his rage and hatred for all things demonic start to take over. It gave him new power and strength, but this time it wouldn’t be enough. This time, he would be overwhelmed. Whether he would wake up sometime after or not, he didn’t know.
He regretted only that he’d waited so long with Lennox. He’d only just accepted the possibility of sharing some of his life with her, and now it looked like he wouldn’t get the chance.
It was ironic, really. Ever since Amelia’s death, he’d struggled to find something to live for. And now that he had….
It didn’t matter. He just had to keep fighting, to keep applying his blades as effectively as he could regardless of what the outcome would be.
Despite his efforts, it wasn’t long before a second pseudopod got through his guard, and then a third, and a fourth. They wrapped themselves around anything they could find, and this included both of Jack’s wrists. He gritted his teeth against the agony of the burning and knew he couldn’t last much longer. Yet he still struggled, still twisted and turned, laying his blades where he could.
“Hold on, Jack,” Amelia said.
And then he was no longer alone. Lennox stood there, fighting furiously beside him.
“No!” he cried out, the word wrenched from his soul without his volition. He felt beyond distraught, beyond dismayed that she was there. He thought she’d left with Madame Brigette to help activate the glyphs. “You have to go! You have to get away!” he said. He’d never been so afraid before in his life. It felt as if she’d reached into his chest and crushed his heart in her fist. He could bear any outcome of this battle if only he knew she was safe. But she wasn’t safe. She was there by his side, her knives flashing next to his.
Amazingly, Lennox took the time to give him a grin. It wasn’t quite her usual teasing expression, but contained a touch of glee and madness. Her demon wasn’t completely back under control.
“I said you have to come back to me,” she said. “And I meant it!”
Jack was shocked. Horrified. And in his mind, he felt Amelia respond the same way, with wordless dismay.
“You shouldn’t be here!” Jack said.
He didn’t pause in his efforts to combat the demon spawn, but he was awash with emotion. Anguish and grief competed with his usual rage and hate. In desperation, he cast about for inspiration, to figure out some way to keep this woman alive.
The tar man still had his arms buried up to his elbows in the demon spawn mire. He laughed as if he were truly insane as he willed the demon spawn to even greater activity. The spawn itself had become a tentacled monster, a kraken made of stinking black madness. There were tendrils probing for weakness all around Jack and Lennox. It was all they could do to keep those tendrils back, to burn off any end that came close and cauterize it with their blades.
So far, they had kept it back. Jack and Lennox had kept the tar man’s attention focused on them. Which was exactly what Jack intended.
But now things had changed. Jack didn’t know how long Madame Brigette needed to activate the glyphs, and didn’t know what to expect when she did. He knew only that instead of buying time, now he was looking for a way to get Lennox to safety.
He gave voice to a howl of anguish mixed with hate, ignoring the burning of his flesh and muscles and willing his fatigue to fade. He attacked as fast and as often as he could, hoping to create an opening. But if anything, the wall of demon spawn tentacles became even thicker. The number that got through his guard and latching onto him was increasing. Soon, he and Lennox would be so mired in the vile flesh of the spawn that they would not be able to move.
It was enough to drive a man mad. To push him over the edge into a sea of despair. Nor was he the only one to give in to his most basic instincts. Lennox appeared to be crossing that line as well, and unleashing her demon again. She howled like a whirlwind of fury and hate, as graceful as any dancer and as lethal as the blades she wielded.
On another day, Jack would have stood back to admire her. But today, he just kept fighting by her side, hoping for a miracle.
And then the miracle happened.
He felt it first. Nausea, a sense of revulsion like when Lennox cast a spell. And yet, different as well. More powerful.
Then there was a blinding light. An instant later, he heard Lennox cry out in fear mixed with madness as she flung herself at him. He felt an instant of warmth and comfort, and then he was hit by a detonation like Lennox’s Hellfire blast but much, much stronger.
He heard Amelia’s voice very clearly amid the conflagration. “Oh, my love,” she said, her words full of fear for him and Lennox both.
The world turned into darkness and he knew nothing more.
Glyphs
Consciousness flickered.
Jack’s head throbbed as if he’d been hit repeatedly with hammers. Every muscle in his body felt heavy and leaden. Even his eyeballs hurt.
He groaned out loud and was surprised when someone responded.
“Oh, so you’re alive, are you?”
It took a few moments for his muddy brain cells to connect. Who spoke? Was it Lennox? Amelia? Deedee, perhaps?
Jack groaned again and opened his eyes. It was Madame Brigette. She was sitting on what looked like a broken-off chunk of stone, looking tired and worn, her red and yellow dress appearing gray in the gloom. For a moment, Jack found himself wondering at the broken-off chunk of stone, but then he became more aware of his surroundings.
The Arcane Emporium was a total ruin. The building had collapsed into a pile of rubble. It was like it had been hit by an earthquake, or maybe a bomb, and the only light was from a nearby streetlamp.
Jack shivered in the cold of the night. “What happened?” he asked, his tongue thick and clumsy. Then a more urgent thought intruded. “Lex!” he said.
“Relax,” Madame Brigette replied. “She’s alive. She had to make a call. Over there.” She waved a tired hand at a small chunk of the wall that was still partially whole.
Jack felt a wave of relief wash over him. It was so strong it rocked him. He closed his eyes against it and felt his fragile consciousness start to fade….
When Jack next woke, he found himself in an ambulance, strapped onto one of the stretchers in the back and hooked up to a variety of medical instruments. It was dark and he could sense the ambulance moving.
“Lex,” he muttered again, his tongue no more adept than before.
A dark shape shifted next to him, one of the ambulance crew checking readouts, but otherwise showing no interest.
Jack cursed and started to struggle, which encouraged the ambulance man to place a hand on his shoulder to hold him in place. “Easy, there,” the man said, and Jack would have ignored him entirely if it weren’t for Amelia.
“Jack, Lex is okay,” she said. “Unharmed, and in control of herself.”
Jack calmed down immediately. “Where is she?” he mumbled.
“Huh?” said the ambulance man. “Sorry, man, I dunno who you’re talking about.”
“She’s on her way back to the lair. She called them. Deedee sent some of the brothers out, but Lennox wouldn’t leave until she knew you were going to be okay.”
“What happened?” Jack managed.
This time, the ambulance man ignored him. Seeing that Jack was no longer struggling, he settled himself back on a seat.
“Madame Brigette’s glyphs. As near as I can tell, they did what they were meant to do, and then some. The spawn turned into just so much demonic sludge. Lennox cast a shield at the last moment, but couldn’t protect you completely.”
Jack closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He had more questions, but only one seemed important enough to ask just then. “Where are they taking me?” he murmured so quietly the ambulance man didn’t hear.
“This is a Brotherhood ambulance,” Amelia replied. Jack couldn’t see her, but she nevertheless conveyed the impression she was smiling. “A normal hospital wouldn’t know what to do with you,” she said.
Jack tried to nod, but he was fading fast. “Tar man,” he said.
But Amelia didn’t answer. “You’ve taken a lot of punishment,” she said. “More than usual. Rest now. There will be time for questions later.”
There wasn’t anything Jack could do. He’d already drifted away once again.
Jack faded in and out of consciousness throughout the rest of the trip. At one point, he became aware that he was no longer inside the ambulance. Instead, he was staring up at the night sky outside the Lair, with Deedee standing over him, issuing orders as brothers scurried about. He stared at her, remembering how she’d looked when she’d been young and reflecting that she’d aged very well. She caught him staring and gave him an affectionate grin as she patted his shoulder.
“The tar man,” he managed.
Deedee looked confused, but only for a moment. “That loathsome fiend you were battling? He’s alive, if that’s what you wanted to know.”
Even though Jack was still strapped to the stretcher, he started to struggle, and his veins surged with hate once again.
“Easy,” Deedee said. “He’s made from concrete and barbed wire, that one, but we have him. Your friend Madame Brigette saw to that. She carved a glyph into his flesh that should keep him nice and docile.”
