Demonsouled Omnibus One
Page 118
The source of the spirit creatures both Lucan and Malavost conjured up, no doubt.
A stone altar rested before the dais, and Malavost stood over the altar, gesturing, green light flaring around his fingertips, his long black coat dancing in the wind. And upon the altar lay an unconscious child no more than five or six months old.
For the first time, Mazael laid eyes upon his nephew.
Several things happened at once.
"My son!" said Gerald, stepping forward.
But Romaria was faster. Even before Gerald had begun to move, she had her bow in hand, her hands blurring. Before Mazael could blink she had an arrow in the air, and then another, and another, all streaking towards Malavost's back. The arrows slammed into Malavost, and shattered with flashes of green light, falling in harmless splinters to the ground.
Malavost turned, one eyebrow lifted, as if in amusement.
Then something black and misshapen moved atop one of the pillars.
###
Malavost paused his spell, the power thrumming and snarling as it awaited his attention.
There were four of them. An Elderborn woman he did not recognize, holding an oaken staff. One of those annoying druids, no doubt. A tall woman with black hair and icy blue eyes, a bronze diadem on her brow and a bow in her hand. Romaria Greenshield, and it been most amusing to listen to Ultorin's endless rants about her. A knight in polished armor - Sir Gerald Roland. And Mazael Cravenlock himself, his ancient longsword burning with azure flame in his right hand.
Only four of them. He had expected more. Still, Mazael was the only one that was truly dangerous.
"You have my son," said Gerald, pointing his longsword, "and I..."
Malavost snorted. He had no reason to talk to any of them.
"Kill them all," he said. His summoned servants leapt into motion, and Malavost began casting one of the spells he had learned from the Malrag shamans. The spell upon the Door of Souls would start to unravel soon, but Malavost had more than enough time to first butcher his enemies.
###
Romaria sent another arrow flying for Malavost's face, but she knew it was useless. The arrow shattered an inch from Malavost's eye, breaking apart against his wards. She saw the magical power gathered around the wizard - he was strong, stronger than Lucan Mandragon, far stronger than Ardanna, and at least as strong as the Seer had been.
And behind him she saw the immense vortex of magical power swirling around the Door of Souls. The Door would tear open the veil between the mortal world and the spirit world, allowing the power of the serpent god to enter.
And even as Malavost began casting a spell, emerald fire flickering around his hands, more of the giant human-headed scorpions appeared. One clung to a pillar near the dais. Another scrambled over a pile of rubble. Still a third perched atop another pillar, and a fourth raced around a fallen column, its legs clicking against the marble floor.
Four of them. One of the great scorpions had almost been enough to kill them upon the stairs, and now they faced four of the things, in addition to the might of Malavost's spells.
Romaria spun and loosed an arrow at the charging scorpion. The arrow caught the creature in its human face, and it reared back with a scream, black slime bubbling over the wound. But the remaining three scorpions charged forward, barbed tails waving.
She threw aside her bow and changed, her body blurring into the form of the great black wolf. Her senses, already sharp, became far keener, and she smelled the vile reek of the scorpions, the sweat upon Mazael's face, the sharp scent of Malavost's potent magic.
Gerald and Mazael ran to meet the scorpions, shields raised, but Romaria was faster. She darted past them, fangs snapping, her jaws closing about the base of the scorpion's first leg. The taste was unspeakably vile, but the scorpion lost its balance.
It was all the opening Mazael needed to bring Lion sweeping down, taking the scorpion's head from its neck, and the black-armored body went into a mad dance, tails lashing at the air.
###
Mazael spun from the dead scorpion, even as its body dissolved into gray mist, and turned to face the remaining three creatures.
The spirit beasts watched him warily, their tails twitching back and forth in preparation for a strike. Mazael kept his shield up, watching for an opportunity to land a telling blow. He had to act quickly. Malavost might kill Aldane at any moment, or loose his powers in the fight...
No sooner had the thought crossed Mazael's mind then Malavost raised his hand, ghostly fire crackling around his fingers.
A green lightning bolt screamed down from the sky. The blast slammed into the earth at Mazael's feet, shattering the marble flagstones, the shock knocking him from his feet. Gerald crashed hard into the base of a broken column, armor clattering, and toppled to the ground.
He did not get up again.
Mazael scrambled backwards as the scorpions pursued him, their long tails snapping like whips. He caught five of the barbed tails on his shield, but two more bounced off his armor, leaving scratches in the steel.
And two more barbs penetrated the joints of his armor over his knee and shoulder, pumping their poison into his flesh. Mazael stumbled, felt a cold numbness begin to spread into his left arm and leg.
And still the scorpions kept coming, and Malavost began another spell.
###
Romaria saw the blast of Malavost's spell drive Gerald to the ground, saw Mazael stumble back, the scorpions pursuing him.
She howled and leapt into the fray, attacking the scorpion on Mazael's left. She sprang upon its back, claws scrabbling uselessly against its armored carapace, but her fangs sank into the soft flesh below its human neck. The scorpion reared back with a scream, its pincers and barbed tails lashing at the air, and Mazael got his feet under him, shield raised.
But the scorpions' poison had slowed him, she saw. His Demonsouled essence would purge the poison from his blood, but not fast enough, and a claw or a barb through the heart or brain would kill him as surely as any other man.
The scorpion shrieked, its entire body heaving, and threw Romaria to the ground. She rolled back to her feet, paws gaining purchase upon the white stone, and stood at Mazael's side, fangs bared as the scorpions advanced.
###
Mazael tried to keep his balance, breathing hard.
A cold numbness spread through his left side, making it difficult to keep his grip on his shield. Or to keep his feet, for that matter. The world was beginning to spin around him, and from time to time his vision flickered. The scorpions' venom, no doubt, and soon his Demonsouled power would heal him.
But not before one of the scorpions ripped his head off.
The scorpions rushed him, tails cracking like whips. Mazael backed away, trying to catch the blows upon his shield. Romaria snapped and snarled, and the scorpions shied away in fear. But they were too fast and too strong, and they pushed forward, bit by bit. Sooner or later they would drive Mazael and Romaria against one of the pillars or piles of broken stone, and then the fight would be over.
Where the devil was Romaria's mother? Why had she not intervened in the fight?
No sooner had the thought crossed Mazael's mind than a barrage of razor-edged ice chunks slammed into the scorpion on his left, sending the creature crashing to the ground in a spray of black blood. Mazael risked a glance to the side, saw Ardanna standing atop one of the rubble heaps, staff thrust forth, fur cloak billowing in the wind rising from the Door of Souls. She cast a spell, launching another barrage of dagger-edged ice chunks at the scorpions.
On the dais, Malavost wheeled to face her, and green lightning fell from the sky.
Lucan had been able to deflect the lightning bolts with relative ease, despite the obvious cost in pain to him. Ardanna barely had the power to deflect one. She fell to her knees with a scream, staff clutched in both hands, and the lightning bolt rebounded to shatter one of the pillars. Ardanna remained on her knees, trembling, face white and drawn with exhaustion.
One of the scorpions surged forward, tails whipping. Mazael swept Lion in a blazing arc, managing to sever one of the barbs. But the second tail's spike bounced off his shield, and the third crunched deep into his side, the poison pumping into his blood.
###
Rachel stumbled up the final steps, breathing hard, Sykhana's sheathed daggers in her hands.
She stood in an ancient courtyard, a great temple, splendid even in its ruin, rising over her. Through the temple's doorway she saw flashes of light, heard the rumble of spells and the sounds of battle.
She hurried towards the arch, still clutching the poisoned daggers.
###
Malavost watched the Elderborn druid collapse, watched his summoned spirit creatures drive Mazael and Romaria back. Behind him he felt the strain as his spell upon the Door started to unravel.
He turned his back on the melee and resumed the spell. At once the darkness within the Door's arch congealed, becoming thicker and blacker. Tendrils of shadow, like long serpents, reached out from the Door, feeling the dais and the nearby pillars like the questing fingers of a blind man.
Malavost reached into his coat, drew out of the vial of Skaloban's blood and threw it towards the Door of Souls. The blood spilled out in a crimson arc, and even before it reached the floor, one of the tendrils wrapped around it, sucking the blood into the arch.
The darkness within the Door roiled, an ominous green light shining in its depths. The sense of power emanating from the Door redoubled, and then doubled again, until the mountain itself seemed to vibrate with it.
The power of Sepharivaim, waiting for him to claim it.
Malavost's fingers trembled with excitement. One more spell, the blood of Aldane Roland spilled, and the power of a god would be his.
He began casting the final spell.
Malavost leaned over the altar. The green light in the Door of Souls grew brighter, the tendrils of shadow more agitated in their thrashing. He forgot the scorpions, forgot Mazael Cravenlock, forgot everything except the spell.
And the great power that awaited him.
He drew his dagger, ready to spill Aldane Roland's blood and draw the power into this world.
###
Romaria ripped at the injured scorpion's flank, tearing at the wounds Ardanna's spell had left in its side. The scorpion reared back, screaming, eyes narrowed in rage and pain, but its pincer lashed out. It caught her across the flank and knocked her from her feet, sending her rolling across the flagstone.
She righted herself, saw Mazael sink to one knee, blood streaming down his side.
###
Rachel ran into the temple, uncaring of the danger.
Aldane, she had to find Aldane.
She saw Gerald, lying motionless against a pillar. But he was still breathing, and she had to find Aldane. Mazael and a great black wolf faced off against three creatures of nightmare, hideous hybrids of scorpion and human, but she did not see Aldane with them.
Then she saw the dais, and the darkness swirling atop of it, tendrils of shadow radiating from a pointed arch of white stone. The Door of Souls, no doubt. Before the door stood Malavost, a dagger in his hand, his arms and shoulders trembling with strain as he cast a mighty spell.
Aldane, her Aldane, lay motionless upon a stone altar, eyes closed.
Malavost's voice rose to a bellow, the dagger coming up.
Rachel screamed and ran for him.
###
Mazael dropped to his knees, breathing hard, the world spinning around him.
He could not regain his feet. The poison was too potent. He felt it healing, felt it passing from his blood, but not quickly enough. Every blow from the scorpions' stingers sent another dose of venom coursing through his veins, and even his Demonsouled healing could not fight it off fast enough.
And the scorpions...he and Romaria had hurt them, but not enough.
He had failed, and they were going to die.
The scorpions drew closer, pincers snapping.
And then Mazael saw Rachel.
She ran at Malavost, shrieking. Malavost noticed her, hand coming up in a spell, and the scorpions whirled to aid their master, but too late. Rachel had a black dagger in her hand, and she buried it in Malavost's chest, once, twice, three times. The wizard staggered under the blows, his eyes wide with shock and pain. Blood burst from his wounds, spraying Rachel, the altar, the child upon it.
And some of the drops fell upon the writhing ropes of shadow.
"No!" shouted Malavost, voice hoarse.
One of the dark tendrils wrapped around him, drawn by the blood, then another, and another. Malavost fought and screamed, clawing at the tendrils, magical flames bursting from his fingers. Some of the shadowy cords vanished beneath his attack, but more wrapped around him, more and more.
Serpents, Mazael realized. The twisting cords of shadow looked like serpents.
And the serpents dragged Malavost back, screaming, into the Door of Souls, into the dark place within the arch. Mazael had one last glimpse of Malavost, face frantic, and then the wizard vanished into the darkness. There was a dazzling flash of silver light, and the darkness within the arch vanished, along with Malavost himself.
The Door of Souls had closed.
The scorpions shivered, and vanished into gray mists.
And silence hung over the ruined temple.
###
For a moment Rachel stood frozen, watching as the writhing serpents of shadow pulled Malavost into the netherworld, as the Door of Souls closed.
Then she flung aside the bloodstained dagger and scooped up Aldane with a cry.
Larger, he was so much larger than the last time she had held him.
He was warm, he was breathing, but his eyes were closed. What had Malavost and Sykhana done to him? Had they hurt him? Put him into an enspelled sleep from which he would never awake?
Then Aldane opened his eyes, took a deep breath, and began to wail at the top of his lungs.
Rachel sobbed and hugged him close.
###
Mazael dragged himself back to his feet. His wounds throbbed, but already he felt the cuts closing, the numbness beginning to fade away. His Demonsouled nature would heal him in short order.
It had been a close thing, though.
Besides him Romaria blurred back into human form and picked up her bow. She had bruises on her face, and walked with a limp, but seemed otherwise unhurt.
“How are you?” she said.
“I've been better,” said Mazael, taking careful steps towards Gerald. “But I'll be well again, soon enough.” He knelt, helped Gerald to his feet.
Gerald groaned, pulled off his helm, rubbed at his head. “Did we win?”
“We did,” said Mazael.
Gerald nodded, then his eyes got wide. “My son...”
Romaria grinned. “Still alive.”
Gerald pulled free of Mazael's grip and half-ran, half-staggered to the dais. Rachel stood there, weeping, Aldane cradled in her arms. Gerald put his hand on her shoulder, and she beamed up at him.
“She killed him,” said Romaria, voice soft.
“She did,” said Mazael.
Romaria shook her head. “Malavost was a wizard of power, so strong he killed the Seer and defeated Lucan. And your sister...your sister is not the kind of woman to face such a man. Yet she killed him. I can scarce believe it.”
Rachel was laughing and crying at once, her face tight with joy and relief.
“She loves her son,” said Mazael, voice quiet. “She followed Aldane all the way from Knightcastle. She would have followed him into hell, if Malavost had gone there.”
Romaria looked at the rubble heap, where Ardanna climbed to her feet. She made no move to help her mother. “I wonder what that's like.”
Mazael remembered his own mother, who
had lain with the Old Demon. “I wouldn't know.”
Ardanna hobbled down the pile of rubble, leaning on her staff. “You have done well, Lord Mazael. The temple is safe, and the power of Sepharivaim will not be loosed upon the world.”
She did not look at her daughter.
“Rachel killed Malavost, not I,” said Mazael. “And we could not have done it without Romaria's aid.”