The Demon City

by Evan Currie

  When the dimension inevitably fell, they would move along ahead to the next front. Occasionally a few of them died . . . it could happen. Though time would never end the life of the forsaken, violence certainly could. A few others gave up, found some ignored part of creation to shelter in, and tried to ignore the war.

  Some turned.

  Any who went back to the origin were dead in the eyes of those like the brothers. They’d sacrificed too much against the abominations over the eons, so had no forgiveness in them for those who spat on those sacrifices. forsaken either way, the only question was which side wanted you dead the most.

  For Sindri and his brother, they’d long since decided that they would never join the abomination. They would die on their feet someday, but until then they would throw what problems they could into the advance of the circles.

  They had already stayed longer than expected in this dimension. In reality, it had been lost a long time earlier after all. The two were among the last of the forsaken to remain in this dimension . . . only perhaps a few thousand, at most, remained . . . it was always hard to say. Those like themselves were almost impossible to tell apart from humans, and they could even infiltrate into the company of lower-circle demons easily enough.

  He knew that humans were likely down to a few tens of thousands now, a stunning loss of numbers in their population, but they likely outnumbered forsaken by at least three or four to one even so.

  There was a time when we were not even one in ten thousand, Sindri thought as he was filled with melancholy. So many died for the sick, twisted ambitions of that abomination . . . and this is merely one dimension among thousands or more.

  He reflexively looked up to the sky, seeking the higher power he knew existed yet no longer responded.

  Why? Why so much death? Did you create them just so they could die in droves? Sindri had no answers, only questions. He remembered Eden, during the Golden Era . . . and did not understand how it had all gone so very badly.

  *****

  On a rooftop some distance from the docks, Elan faced off with the brothers as she tried to convince them of what should be done. She ignored the curious looks from the shadows. People had followed them when they fled the docks . . . likely for the best, since the fight would inevitably draw attention and that would be bad for any who remained behind. But the only people who mattered at the moment were the brothers, and they were driving her mad.

  Elan honestly wanted to scream in frustration. No matter what she suggested, one of the two would tear it apart with ease and make her feel foolish in the process. She despised feeling foolish and the way it seemed too easy for people like the brothers here, or Merlin on Avalon, to make her feel that way.

  With that in mind, she set every criticism they threw at her to memory and tried to fix the problem in the next idea.

  It was a more complicated issue than she’d ever dealt with in the past. Normally she just had to react to what others were doing. This time, she had a chance to be the one who initiated the action, which was something of a novel affair. Unfortunately, it meant she had to think about the best way to do things, rather than just charge in and hope for the best. She’d never had to worry about escape in the past.

  The city was a maze the likes of which Elan had never imagined until she’d encountered Lemuria. Buildings towered to the clouds, making her dizzy just thinking about it, blotting out the sun and sky. For demons it was a paradise, leaving plenty of places in shadow for them to lurk from the light of the sun. She wasn’t sure what the advantages for humans were, though there must have been some reason for them to have built such insane constructs.

  In any case, the maze of stone and glass and other materials left her with so many options for her proposed attack that she found herself even dizzier than when she had been looking down from the unreal heights.

  “What about if we do it this way?” she said finally, laying out yet another option for the brothers to pick apart, with a detailed escape plan that included alternative routes and ambush points to derail any pursuit.

  When she was done, Elan waited with flashing eyes as the two short men exchanged glances that seemed to have great meaning.

  “Not bad,” Sindri said finally. “It’s a workable option, at the very least.”

  Brokkr nodded. “We’ve fought worse plans, that’s true enough.” Then he turned and looked at Elan. “Of course, she hasn’t convinced me that we should fight this one at all. Never was one for hopeless wars, brother, and this is as hopeless as they come.”

  Sindri nodded. “There’s truth in that. Whether we fight or run or just curl up here and die, the end result will be the same by my estimation.”

  Elan’s expression darkened, her eyes flashing as she glared between the pair.

  “Why get up every morning then?” she asked. “I don’t care how old you are, how long you live, we all die someday. So why fight for anything? Curl up and die, if you choose. I’ll fight here and now for no other reason than that I would rather die standing with my foot on a demon’s throat than lying in a bed with a demon’s foot on my own.”

  She spun, looking out over the city beyond the rooftop they had chosen to observe from, eyes hot with anger and emotions barely held in check as she thought about what her father had taught her and the touch of her mother’s cheek before the night her life had been changed forever.

  “If we don’t fight for what should be ours by right,” she said in a softer voice that nonetheless carried with crystal clarity to everyone listening, “then we may as well be dead already.”

  Elan straightened, not turning back, as her eyes now glistened with moisture she had no desire to show.

  “So what if the darkness is coming no matter what we do? Rail against it if you choose. Curl up and let it swallow you if that is your preference. Me?” she asked, her armor snapping up around her face, covering it from view as she turned back. “I’ll strike a flame and light the world on fire if that’s the only way to see the darkness end.”

  With those words, Elan again turned away from them and simply stepped off the side of the building, dropping several floors down to a landing and then leaping away.

  “Well, brother,” Sindri said, amused, “I think we may have pushed a little too far that time.”

  Brokkr looked at him dryly. “Really? What gives you that idea?”

  Jolinr, however, wasn’t amused.

  The big man gripped his hammer up in his hand and glowered at them as he marched over to the edge of the roof.

  “And where do you think you’re going?” Brokkr asked.

  “To light the world on fire,” Jolinr growled, following the girl . . . …albeit via a less spectacular and far less risky route.

  “Do you think that’ll be enough?” Sindri asked softly, shifting his focus slightly to pay attention to the others who had been listening.

  Brokkr shrugged as he too sought out the witnesses to the girl’s explosion. There were fewer there now than had followed them from the docks. He hoped that they would wake up, stand on two feet rather than be the sheep they had become, but he was doubtful and unwilling to raise his hopes by much.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted, “but if it isn’t, then they’re not worth fighting for anyway. Let’s be about it, brother.”

  Sindri nodded, drawing a weapon he hadn’t unsheathed in a long time, grinning as he did. “One last fight before the end comes to this world then? Sounds like fun.”

  *****

  Ser’Goth paced her suite, unable to shake the feeling that had been growing since she’d heard the news from the docks.

  An authorized human warrior hadn’t existed on this world for well over a century, quite likely a lot longer than that. The last confirmed encounter with such had ended in the annihilation of said warrior, along with nearly three-quarters of a lord’s legion, just over three and a half centuries earlier.

  Since then, they’d been the monsters whispered about after the sun rose, usually to fri
ghten gullible demons.

  Now she had one in her city, just as they entered the point of no return with the elder summoning.

  Ser’Goth had to admire the fates, vicious bitches that they were. They knew how to turn a blade after they drove it home.

  She stopped, making a decision as she turned toward the door and strode out with clear purpose in her strides. “Aides! To me, and bring my armor.”

  Whatever was going on, there was only one real thing of import in the city at this time. If anything was going to happen, it would happen at the standing stones, and when it did, she intended to be there to deal with it.

  Her aides met her at the front hall, her armor already polished and prepared as several aides waited for her to step into the greaves and have them strapped in carefully.

  It had been a long time since she’d worn her gear of war with intent, she realized as a calm sensation settled over her. The layered metalwork of the bodice covered more flesh than Ser’Goth preferred, but armor was its purpose, and though she needed far less than lesser beings, proper defense of certain organs still mattered. Bracers and other accoutrements finished up the ensemble, and in a few moments she was ready to face what might come.

  Ser’Goth accepted her blade from a servant, belting the heavy weapon to her side as she stepped out of the suite and headed for the nearest balcony. Wings spread wide as she walked out and off into space, dropping a few dozen feet before she started to glide easily away from the tower, turning toward where she knew the standing stones had been established.

  I’ve come too far to allow anyone to ruin my plans now, she thought grimly. Especially not some hopped-up monkey with delusions of adequacy.

  *****

  Elan landed on an exposed ledge that overlooked the standing stones, still fuming as she checked her surroundings for any sign that she’d been spotted.

  The demons of the city seemed uninterested in the area around them, as if they were supremely confident of their position and as relaxed as one of their type could manage. She pretty much assumed that was exactly what they felt, and she fully intended to take advantage of it while she could.

  Elan forced herself to calm down, using breathing techniques from the book as she surveyed the area more carefully, taking note of every demon she could see and what they were up to.

  The human slaves were still on-site as well, but they were huddled off in a guarded area now instead of actively working. Elan briefly wondered why they were still holding them there if there was no more work for them to do but decided that it didn’t much matter, and in all likelihood she didn’t really want to know.

  A scraping sound behind her caused Elan to shift, drawing her sidearm partially before she recognized Jol as he dropped into place beside her. She looked at the well-muscled man for a moment, then beyond him to the path he must have followed to catch up to her, and was impressed. She’d not have dared try what he had done, not without her armor at least.

  “They’re just testing you, you know?” Jol said earnestly as he caught himself and rested briefly against the side of the building.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Elan said after a moment’s thought. “Whether they’re testing or serious, I’m still going to do what I’m here to do.”

  Jol nodded, rapping his hammer twice on the side of the building. “My arm and hammer are with you. I’ve lived my life under the heel of the demons, and if this is the end either way . . . I’ll go out lighting a fire against the dark.”

  Elan just nodded, turning her focus back to the standing stones.

  “I’m going to try to destroy them the easy way,” she said, patting the sidearm on her hip. “If that works, then we can withdraw quietly before they have any idea we were even here.”

  Jol nodded, understanding.

  It took her several more minutes to make certain that everything was as close to being in order as it could be before she drew her sidearm and started picking targets along the circle of standing stones. If the brothers were right, then destroying those would certainly delay the action, if not entirely stop it, and that would be enough for her.

  “I’m going to fire,” she said softly. “Get ready.”

  “I’m ready,” Jol said from beside her.

  Elan hefted the weapon, watching the target information float across her eyes as she steadied it. Her finger tightened around the firing controls just as movement caught her eye, and she did a bit of a double take as she saw a flying figure swoop in.

  “What the . . .?” Elan blurted softly as the flying figure landed not far from the captive slaves.

  “It’s her,” Jol said, his tone stricken and broken enough to cause Elan to turn to look at him.

  The big man was pale, with wide eyes as he stared in naked fear at the winged demon below.

  “Her?” Elan asked, confused more than anything as she examined the rather obviously female demon.

  “Ser’Goth,” Jol whispered, almost fearfully, causing Elan to glance sharply at him again. “Her Ladyship, the Lady of the City. She . . . rules everyone here.”

  “She doesn’t rule me,” Elan said firmly, extending her weapon again, only to pause and frown slightly as she spotted something else change. “Now what?”

  The demons were pushing the human slaves out of the area they were in, forcing them closer to the standing stones.

  “I . . . I don’t know,” Jol admitted, looking more confused now than afraid. “I’ve . . . oh no.”

  “What?” Elan demanded. “What is it?”

  “It’s a sacrifice,” he said in a sickly tone of voice. “I’ve never seen one this big, but they’re going to kill them all.”

  Elan’s face twisted as she considered their odds, but she saw no way to possibly save them. She couldn’t just let them die, though, and made her decision in that moment without further hesitation.

  “I’m going to take out the stones,” she said, “and then as many demons as I can. If you see an opening, get them out of here.”

  “But . . . there’s nowhere in the city to hide from the demons—or . . . her.”

  “We’ll solve that problem later,” Elan said as her weapon came up, her arm extending it out. “Die on your feet or die on your knees. Make a choice.”

  Her sidearm fired the first of several negative matter charges even as she started moving, stepping off the ledge and dropping the twenty-odd feet to the ground, leaving Jol to make his choice.

  Chapter 17

  Ser’Goth landed easily in the giant square that sat at the center of the city, a shiver running down her spine as she sensed something . . . off in the air around the stones that had been erected. She pushed the feeling aside, figuring that it was likely just the power of the runic carvings being charged to capacity, and turned to meet the overseer and his two aides as they ran out to meet her.

  She ignored the three at first, looking over the square with judgmental eyes. All things seemed to be in order, but still she could not shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong.

  Finally Ser’Goth turned to the overseer and glared down at the shorter demon. “Report.”

  Shaking very slightly, the overseer nodded vigorously as he wrung his hands.

  “All things are as expected, my lady,” the overseer insisted in a nervous, high-pitched tone that did nothing to soothe her worries.

  Ser’Goth ignored the nervous demon and his attempts at placating her, instead opting to walk past him and sweep her eyes across the standing stones that lay before her. There was something she didn’t recognize there, something she didn’t like the feel of, but she was uncertain what it was.

  “What remains to be accomplished?” Ser’Goth demanded without looking over her shoulder at the overseer.

  If anything, that made the small demon even more nervous. The wringing of his hands and the slight tics to his features stood out even more as he stepped up beside her and cast a glance out over the square himself.

  “My lady,” he stammered out, “the bl
. . . runes need to be charged yet. The power of the city is not what it once was. Natural charging from the ley will take much longer than expected.”

  “Unacceptable,” Ser’Goth growled, now turning to look at him with fire in her eyes. “Charge the runes. Now.”

  The overseer gulped. “We will have to move up the sacrifice.”

  “Are the slaves here sufficient?” she demanded.

  The overseer nodded vigorously, seemingly unwilling to trust his voice.

  “Then do so.”

  The overseer nodded again and fell back, turning on his heel as he rushed over to deliver the orders. Wails went up from the gathered slaves as their guard started to push them out into the square. Ser’Goth ignored all of it as she looked upon the stones, the little tremor of uncertainty still eating at her.

  She hadn’t figured out what was wrong when a flash of light and a blur of motion in the corner of her eye caused her to twist into a half crouch. An unfamiliar sound washed over her, niggling at some half-buried memory as her sharp eyes spotted three gleaming and pulsing orbs flying through the air toward the stones.

  The runic wards hummed with power in response, and the orbs slowed rapidly to a halt until they were floating in the air just fifty feet away. Ser’Goth frowned as she slowly straightened back up and cocked her head to the left, looking at the orbs as they pulsed and hummed louder and louder in place.

  The memory suddenly locked in, and she realized what she was looking at as her eyes widened and she instinctively lifted up a hand in her own defense. “Everyone down!”

  She didn’t even manage to finish her warning before the magnetic containment of the negative matter particles failed in midair. Atmospheric molecules rushed in, contacting the negatively charged deuterium particles and self-annihilating. The flash explosion tore across the square with the force of a hurricane wind and a thunderclap loud and powerful enough to throw everyone but her to the ground.