Echoes of Demons (The Memoirs of Abel Mondragon Book 2)

by Chase Erwin

  “I will do anything I can to protect you, from here on out,” he said.

  This time I couldn’t think of anything to say in response. Instead, I returned his kiss.

  We returned to the sofa once more. I only remember us going through a few more pages of the book of legends before falling asleep in each other’s arms.

  10. The Flood

  The rain continued to pour outside as we slept. I awoke a few times, only to listen to the torrent outside for a few moments and slip back into unconsciousness.

  I stirred awake once again soon after sunrise. The rain was still falling in sheets. But there was another sound coming from the balcony. Ricken’s arm was wrapped around me and prevented me from rising to see what it was, so I craned my neck over the arm of the sofa to get a better angle.

  There was a scraping, scrambling sound, like something scratching at the stone walls of the building.

  “Ricken?” I whispered, poking at his shoulder. “Ricken, wake up…”

  An arm hooked over the marble pillars of the balcony. Someone was trying to climb in.

  “Ricken, wake up!” I hissed, trying not to attract attention of the intruder.

  Ricken began to stir. “Hmm?”

  He and I both jumped at a guttural screaming noise from the intruder, who had managed to partially swing themselves over the balcony. Two arrows had gouged the person in the back of the head. Their grip on the balcony softened and they fell over the outer edge.

  I gasped in shock, and Ricken shot off the couch and raced to the balcony doors. “What in the…?”

  I stood up and joined him to look out over the balcony. We stepped out into the rain and looked over the Knowledge District.

  There was chaos. People were running in all directions, screaming in fear. Small bands of citizens were pointing to the eastern boulevard, towards the Church District, which was completely waterlogged. It appeared as if the water was rising and approaching us very quickly. Sandbags were being placed across the street as a makeshift levee.

  Others were shouting and pointing to the western bloc, the Commerce District. Crossbows were being aimed down that corridor, as were intermittent blasts of magical energy.

  “What’s going on out there?” I asked, pointing toward the Commerce District.

  “It might have something to do with that,” Ricken answered, pointing below. We both looked out over the balcony.

  The body of the intruder lay at the ground below us, his limbs and back at an impossible angle. His skin was gray, shriveled. It was obvious the fall had not killed him – he had been dead to begin with.

  “The undead?” I said. “Are we under an attack of some sort?”

  “Of some sort,” Ricken muttered. He rushed back into his flat and towards his dressing bureau. He put on a jacket and ran back to me, giving me a quick peck on the cheek. “Stay put here, would you?”

  “What?”

  “I need to get out there and see what I can do. I want you to stay here where it’s safer.”

  Before I had a chance to protest, he was already flying for the front door. “Love you; be safe.”

  “You too” was all I could say before the door slammed closed behind him.

  I was still standing on the balcony, rain pelting my head. I wiped the excess water off my head, continuing to scan out over the scene.

  “Abel!” shouted a familiar voice. Beltrin. I looked towards the flooding Church district to see the dragonkin pushing Taryn and his wheelchair out past the sandbags. Irek, Caeden and Remi were also there along with them.

  “Abel, can you meet us on the roof up there?” Beltrin pointed in my direction.

  “Uh, yeah, I think so!” I was on the top story, so I didn’t think it’d be hard to find a door to the roof.

  “Great, we’ll see you there in a moment.” Beltrin and the rest of the group started on their way towards the Guild building.

  I exited the apartment and looked to either side. There was nothing but a dead end to my left; on the right, a corridor of other rooms, and what appeared to be a door in the ceiling – that had to be access to the roof.

  I ran to the corridor and underneath the door. The cord to the door dangled just a few inches out of my reach. I tried jumping a few times but couldn’t quite make it. I took a breath and imagined an invisible hand tugging firmly on the cord.

  My telekinetic power engaged, and the door popped open. A fold-out ladder unfurled, touching the floor with a sharp bounce. I hurried up the steps. There was a dark passage about three feet in height, with another door sealed shut with a red lever. This was the exit door. I pulled it open and advanced upwards.

  “What took you so long?” Taryn asked.

  “Sorry, I had trouble reaching the” – I blinked. Taryn sat in his wheelchair just a few feet from the exit hatch. I climbed out, leaving the hatch open. “Taryn? How’d you get up there in the wheelchair?”

  “Just a little teleportation spell thanks to Irek,” Taryn explained. “Your guild should really think about installing lifts in this place.”

  “Would you like to help us fight off these goons?” Beltrin asked.

  “I’ll do what I can to help,” I said. “Is it just the undead?”

  “Right first time,” Beltrin said, wheeling Taryn to the corner of the roof aligning with the Commerce District, where we could see at least a dozen gray, pale walking corpses fighting their way inwards.

  “I’m gonna stand point behind you two,” Beltrin said, “making sure we’re safe. You help Taryn with targeting.”

  Taryn took out a case of bolts and arrows from the back of his wheelchair. “Oh, but I don’t have any weapon,” I said.

  “That’s alright,” Taryn said. “I do.” Seconds later, his wheelchair began to make noise as internal components engaged. His wheels began to extend vertically, just like they did when he turned those wheels into harps. A forcefield emanated from those wheels, rising the chair up in the air about 18 inches. Taryn leaned forward. He now had a clear shot over the precipice of the building.

  “I see one I can get already,” Taryn said. He took two arrows from his case and threaded them between the harp strings of his left instrument. He pulled his hand back… and released.

  Accompanied by a beautiful two-note chord, the arrows sailed through the air and expertly into the skull of an advancing undead. It sank to the ground, lifeless. The arrows dissolved from the corpse and appeared back inside Taryn’s case.

  “That was amazing!” I breathed.

  “Thank you,” Taryn said, in a friendly but matter-of-fact tone.

  “There’s another,” I said, pointing to another walking corpse, advancing towards a woman cowering under a tree. Thinking quickly, I conjured up a bolt of fire and fired it at the corpse. The bolt landed in the stomach of the creature, which stunned it momentarily, but it continued its advance on the innocent woman while its middle smoldered.

  Taryn and I watched as Remi sprinted towards the creature, drew her longsword and finished it off by severing its head. Running past the remains, Remi sheathed her weapon and assisted the frightened woman to safety across the street, where Irek was ushering citizens into a shop building.

  “I thought I asked you to stay indoors?” came a voice from an adjacent rooftop. Ricken.

  “They wanted my help,” I shouted back. “I won’t just sit idle while this is going on!”

  “Fair enough. Stay with them,” Ricken answered back, “I need to alert the king!” With that, he stepped on the stone parapet of the building and spread his arms out to either side.

  Standing with a sense of dread, I watched as he made a swan dive to the ground below… but his body cupped and twirled until he fell upon a canvas canopy over the first-floor windows. He bounced with perfect precision, landing with his feet square on the cobblestone path. Spinning on his heels, he turned north and hustled towards Castle O’Hir.

  “Caeden!” Irek called before he closed the doors to the shelter he commandeered. “Th
e levees! See what you can do to hold back the water!”

  While the rain around us had tapered to a slight drizzle, there was still a dark cloud sending torrents of rain just over the Church District. Water was rising rapidly and beginning to leak through the small levee the townspeople had thrown together.

  “Right.” Facing the Church District, Caeden held both hands in front of him. Green energy began to snake around his arms and fire from his fingertips. I watched as the strings of light landed on a wall covered in a small patch of ivy. Immediately, the ivy began to grow and travel down the wall, enveloping the levee. Vines multiplied, sprouting leaves all over the street and the front doors and windows of every building. There was so much flora, the leaves and vines fused together, creating a watertight netting.

  “That should do it,” Caeden said softly to himself.

  Remi and Beltrin stayed in the town square, scouring the buildings and piles of corpses to ensure there were no more undead wiggling about. For about a half hour, the rest of us stayed in place, nervously scanning the horizons. The rain clouds finally subsided over the churches, and the water seemed to just… evaporate, leaving only a few puddles.

  Caeden knocked on Irek’s hideout and gave a thumbs-up. Irek opened the doors and began ushering townspeople back outside. The rest of the Winds and I met Beltrin and Remi by the central fountain.

  “What in the name of creation just happened here?” Irek asked.

  “Exactly what it looked like,” Remi said off-handedly. “Zombie horde plus a monsoon.” Checking the clock on the Guild hall tower, she added, “Apparently the Kaa flies at 8:15 in the morning now.”

  “Obviously, I meant what prompted this?” Irek said. “Undead just don’t … become undead; someone has to cast the spell to create them.”

  “You’re right,” Ricken said, jogging back down the path I last saw him. He barely looked like he broke a sweat. “There is someone up to no good. Enwel wishes to see us all. There’s another problem.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  “I refuse to listen to this!” Enwel snapped, facing Jonathan. “You are wrong about my brother!”

  “The evidence simply says otherwise,” Jonathan said, calmly looking Enwel in the eye. “You know Domnall has had eyes set on revenge ever since the day he was expelled from the castle.”

  This was the first confirmation I had heard of what until now I thought was just nasty gossip. As we stood there silently, listening to the princess and her guardian argue, every rumor was confirmed as fact: Three years ago, King O’Hir expelled his son, Enwel’s brother, from the castle. Jonathan adamantly argued that the king acted off intelligence he had been given that Domnall had been conferring with known Raven compatriots.

  Enwel, meanwhile, maintained that her brother had only been acting on his own personal mission of peace – trying to coax a subset of the Ravens to disavow the group and work for the Kingdom.

  While Enwel and the king had always argued about Domnall’s intentions, Enwel had always taken defense of her brother, believing that he was simply going outside the mores of the royalty for the greater good of its subjects. The king was overtly convinced his only son had been irretrievably corrupted.

  “This is Domnall’s doing, Princess,” Jonathan said, his voice rising. “He’s doing whatever he can to play with the citizens of Galek like we were all rats to be drowned or fed to wild animals!”

  “Enough!” Enwel shouted. The air suddenly felt thick and heavy, like before a wild thunderstorm. “Not another word about my brother! I do not know what brought this horde of undead to our streets, but he had nothing to do with it!”

  “There is reason for me to believe otherwise,” Jonathan said, his jaw set. “Your highness… King O’Hir was supposed to check in upon his arrival in Sinanju. That was due to be at nightfall yesterday. No one has yet been in contact with us.”

  Enwel’s face fell. “What?”

  “No one sent the signal to my sending gem,” Jonathan said. He held out his palm, in which lay a brilliant clear crystal. “I’ve sent five messages to Carstairs’ gem since midnight, and there has been no reply.”

  Enwel took the weight of his words seriously. There was a clear problem if they hadn’t made contact or answered a signal from the gem in that long a period.

  “You’ve no proof my brother is involved.” She chose her words slowly and deliberately. “We must search for my father. Perhaps they simply had a breakdown.”

  Jonathan sighed, yet nodded his head in deference. “Yes, milady,” he replied. “I will gather a carriage immediately.”

  “Get two,” Enwel said. “I wish to bring the Winds of Andusk and Mr. Mondragon with us.”

  Jonathan stopped after just a few steps to the back of the foyer. “Pardon me?”

  “If you are so certain we are to meet with my brother – if you are so sure he has become as evil as you say – then we will need as much backup as possible, yes?”

  “Yes, milady.”

  “And if I am correct and they merely damaged their craft, then we can make room for Daddy and his staff and take them on to Sinanju ourselves,” Enwel added. “That will be all, Jonathan. I shall be outside in just a few moments.”

  Jonathan made his way to the exit. Enwel looked at us, her lower lip quivering.

  “Please forgive our argument there,” she said softly. “It was… terribly uncouth of me.”

  None of us knew what to say, leading to an awkward silence.

  “How may we assist you?” Beltrin finally asked.

  “I still believe in my brother’s innocence,” she explained. “But if he has indeed turned to the opposition… he is a much stronger fighter than I. It would be foolhardy to be without a team should it come to blows.”

  She turned her attention to Ricken, who was standing next to me looking quite uncomfortable. “Thank you, Signor Col, for alerting us to this morning’s attack. Are you certain casualties of the living were minimal?”

  “Yes,” Ricken affirmed. “No deaths that I saw, only a few minor injuries from the initial panic. I’d say the only serious loss may be structural damages caused by the flood.”

  “Very well,” Enwel said. “You have shown great courage and loyalty today. You may now return to your usual duties at the Culinarian’s Guild. Good day to you.”

  Ricken’s brow furrowed. “But, couldn’t I – I mean, shouldn’t I” –

  “I said good day,” Enwel said. Her tone wasn’t dismissive, but stern. Ricken frowned and gave me a quick hug. “Be very careful,” he whispered in my ear.

  He turned and hurried towards the front door.

  I stood there feeling as if I had missed something.

  “Come,” Enwel said. “We must make haste. It is time to find my father.”

  11. Ambushed

  With the Winds of Andusk in one carriage, and Enwel, Jonathan and myself in another, we raced off side-by-side towards the Forest of the Lost, known as the site of many mass graves during the war.

  Our coterie flew past warning signs advising travelers to “Turn Back Now – Safety Not Guaranteed! Area Outside Galek Provincial Jurisdiction!” As each minute passed, the foliage of the trees in our sight turned from a lush, lovely green, to a dull yellow, to brown, to an ashen gray… and then there were bare, blackened branches as far as the eye could see.

  “I don’t understand, Jonathan,” Enwel shouted over the wind and the galloping of the horses. “Why did you not accompany Father on this trip?”

  “He said I was simply not required,” her equerry replied as he drove. “He said I would be of better use tending to matters at the castle. And may I say, milady, I am quite glad for it – you have no idea what we may be getting embroiled in!”

  Enwel shot Jonathan a warning look. As she did, a distant echo of thunder rumbled across the skies.

  “There was a large fire here several weeks ago,” Jonathan explained here. “The theory is that it was triggered by lightning, but there had been no storms in the area until
just a few days ago. Our reconnaissance leads me to suspect that the Ravens are doing something out here in this forest. That is what King O’Hir wanted to look into on the way to the summit.”

  “Something isn’t right here,” Enwel muttered. The thunder sounded closer with each rumble.

  “Forgive me for interrupting,” I said, “But why didn’t the king take the Sandport to Sinanju instead of risking his safety in the forest?”

  Jonathan frowned at me.

  “It is a simple question, Jonathan, and one that I demand an answer to,” Enwel said. “We always take the Sandport to Sinanju – why did that change this time?”