The Demon City

by Evan Currie

  “That was a runic weapon!” she hissed, startled out of her confidence briefly. “Where did a human like you get a runically enhanced weapon?”

  Jol said nothing. He merely stepped in closer and swung again, battering at her defense and driving her back another step.

  “Answer me!” Ser’Goth’s voice dropped into the reverberating and guttural tone as she began digging deeply into her own demonic powers. She drew her long blade in preparation of showing the boy who he was truly dealing with.

  Jol merely grinned as he pressed the attack.

  *****

  Ser’Goth was infuriated as she deflected blow after blow, careful now not to meet the hammerblows straight on, as she was certain both her jaw and forearm were fractured. Both were already knitting themselves together, of course, but the fact that a human in her city had acquired a runic weapon without her being aware was absolutely unacceptable!

  This human had been within arm’s reach of her more times than she could count, even! If he’d actually developed a spine and a modicum of cunning, he might have been able to kill even her with a properly placed blow.

  Unlikely, but possible.

  “Answer me, Jolinr!” she snarled, batting his strike aside. “What abysmally stupid, and soon to be dead, fool gave you a runic weapon?”

  Infuriatingly, the young man was calmly ignoring her. Worse, he appeared to actually be enjoying himself!

  This was completely the wrong way around. She was supposed to be the one entertained by this, not the human of all people. Roaring, her rage building to nigh uncontrollable levels, Ser’Goth went on the attack.

  She battered her way through Jol’s nearly nonexistent defenses, slapping his attacks aside as she stepped into him and slashed at his face with outstretched talons.

  The redheaded human had anticipated her, however, and evaded by diving clear and rolling along the ground to where he came back to his feet some distance away. She turned, stomping after him, but he merely evaded her again, with a casual air about him that just stoked her fury.

  “You’re a dead man, Jolinr!” she snarled, chasing him around in circles. “You will tire long before I do, and when you do, I will take you apart a limb at a time. You know I will!”

  *****

  Elan was floating, barely aware of herself enough to realize that she was somewhere similar to the dreaming again. She didn’t know if it was the dreaming, however. Her senses seemed muffled, and there was a pounding in her head that just wouldn’t go away.

  That is the concussion.

  Elan blinked, wondering where that thought had come from. What is a concussion anyway? she wondered. It was the second time she’d had one, but she couldn’t remember if Merlin had ever told her what exactly it was.

  A moment later, she knew. A flash of human physiology and the inside of her own brain had unfolded before her eyes, and she was disgustingly aware of the bruising in her own skull. Honestly, she could have done without that.

  Apologies.

  There. That stray thought again. Elan was almost certain that it wasn’t her own that time, even though it seemed to originate with her. Where had that come from?

  The book.

  The book? Elan frowned. Wait. The book? But it was back in Avalon.

  The book is where it is needed. Where it chooses to be. Always. Now and forever.

  Elan had no idea where she was getting these thoughts, but another more important memory came to her as she realized just how she had arrived where she was.

  Jol!

  He was fighting . . . she had been fighting. The demoness.

  Elan stiffened as remembrance and realization set in. She had to get back!

  A flood of images rushed across her mind, including a memory of how she had performed that single effective strike against the demon. Elan was shocked at what she’d managed, having been almost unconscious at the time.

  Awake you have become. I can show you so much more now.

  Elan shook her head, trying to look around to see if she could find another source for the voice in her head besides herself. There was no one else present, but that wasn’t much of a surprise since as far as she could see, there was nothing else present. She was surrounded by darkness on all sides, above and below.

  She didn’t know where she was, but she did know that she had to wake up. She needed to get moving; otherwise everyone was going to die . . . or worse.

  Agreed. Twice awake you will be now. Go.

  Elan awoke.

  Chapter 18

  The world was pain.

  That was as close as Elan could get to describing the feeling as she started away, the hard, cold stone of the city square pressing into her cheek as remnants of her armor bit into her leg and side. Pain or not, she was still alive, which was better than she expected.

  She bit her lip as she tried to get up, pain screaming at her from so many places it all melded together into one big blur of agony. She got her knees under her and then planted her hands flat on the ground, ignoring the pain as she pushed off. Her head felt like someone was banging on the inside of it, trying to get out, but she ignored it as best she could as she voided her stomach.

  Ugh. Elan moaned unintelligibly. This is a familiar feeling I could do without.

  Digestive acids spattered the stone as she got to her feet, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and looking around.

  Elan blinked away the blurry film that coated her eyes and found herself staring in astonishment at Jol as the powerfully built redhead engaged the tall demon woman in battle with the short stone hammer he always carried. She started forward to help him but staggered as a wave of dizziness swept over her. While she was looking at the ground, trying to breathe and not fall over, Elan realized that she didn’t know where her weapon was.

  Twisting, slowly enough to avoid another wave of dizziness, Elan cast about, trying to get her bearings and find her sidearm. The compact weapon of her forebears was nowhere to be seen.

  Where is it? she wondered as she looked around herself.

  Before she could find it, however, Elan’s attention was drawn to the surrounding crowd that had formed a giant circle around the two combatants. Mostly demons and mostly looking eager to get involved. Elan had a bad feeling that any withdrawal plan she might’ve had was now both incredibly important and totally useless.

  They’re everywhere, she realized as she looked about. Interspersed within the demons were some of the human slaves, watching with those creepy dead eyes devoid of hope, as though they had no interest in who won or who lost. The outcome for them was already set.

  Elan clenched her fists as her eyes darted back and forth, seeking something—a way out, a way through, a way to accomplish what she’d set out to do, or simply a way to escape so she could try again another time. With her arm hopelessly damaged and now being surrounded on all sides with her back literally against a wall, she found none of those things.

  Concussion aside, Elan almost jumped clear out of her skin when a quiet voice whispered almost in her ear.

  “Amusing how fast everything goes to, pardon the pun, the hells, isn’t it?”

  She turned and did a double take, surprised that the two brothers had gotten so close to her and yet not been noticed just a few seconds earlier when she had been actively looking about.

  “Where did you two come from?”

  “Been here all along, girl,” Brokkr told her with a grunt. “Fine mess you make of things, I’ll say. Should have backed off the second Her Ladyship arrived, or at least got a clue when your first barrage was stopped. There are times when pressing the attack is just plain stupidity, child.”

  “If you’re not going to help, just shut up,” Elan snarled, “and tell me where my weapon is.”

  Sindri snorted. “Lot of good it did you the first time. What do you expect to get from it now?”

  Elan, fighting a headache the likes of which she’d only felt once before, was not in a mood for any oblique attempts at teac
hing her a lesson.

  “Look, if you have something positive to add, just spit it out,” she snapped. “If not, just back off.”

  She returned to looking for her weapon, opting to ignore the brothers as she searched. Finally she spotted the carbon-black blade of the sword, jammed into the wall of the building not too far away. Elan staggered over and grabbed the hilt, pulling on it with all her strength, only to find that it refused to budge.

  She hissed angrily, planting her feet on the wall, and pulled until her entire body was trying to break the blade loose but succeeded only in making her headache worse.

  “Hurts, doesn’t it?” Sindri asked, walking up behind her as she slumped over the jammed weapon.

  “What does?” Elan asked, grumpy and pissed off.

  “Being strong,” he answered, “being superhuman . . . and then losing it.”

  “I don’t care about that,” she snarled. “I just want my sword.”

  Sindri chuckled as though nothing was happening around them, casually wrapping his hand around the hilt of the carbon blade and jerking it loose with an easy motion. He then held it out to her, a mocking smile on his face.

  Elan grabbed it from him and turned around, swaying as dizziness hit her again.

  “I need to stop getting hit in the head,” she groaned.

  “Aye, that would be a good place to start,” Sindri told her, amused.

  Elan blinked away the fog and dizziness, looking around to see that the circle of demons still hadn’t closed on them. “What are they waiting for?”

  Sindri looked around casually, leaning back against the wall. “Herself wants to kill Jol personally, and she ordered them back. A little foolish of her, but demons are like that. Take things personal, even when they aren’t. There’s a good lesson for you, girl, you know. If you live through this . . . don’t take it personal. It’ll always lead you to a bad end.”

  “It doesn’t get any more personal,” Elan said, her voice numb. “They killed my parents. They slaughtered my people. What about this isn’t personal?”

  “It’s only personal if you let it be.” Sindri shrugged. “Everyone kills to live; everyone dies. Does it really matter if some die now, instead of later?”

  “Yes, it matters!” she snapped, turning to glare at him.

  “Why?”

  “What?”

  Sindri laughed openly at the confusion on her face. “It’s not a complicated question. Just one word even. Why? I don’t see the difference . . . death is death. Whether you die now or in a hundred years . . . to the universe, there’s really no difference.”

  Elan hissed, hefting her blade as she turned away from him. “The universe can go to the hells. I choose what matters to me.”

  Sindri watched, an amused look on his face as the girl strode away from him, intent on the fight unfolding between Jol and the Lady of the Demon City.

  “She has spunk, I’ll give her that much,” Brokkr offered as he appeared beside Sindri. “No brains to speak of, but spunk.”

  “The Creator gave them free will, not intellect or knowledge,” Sindri replied, chuckling. “They earned that on their own.”

  “Stole it, you mean,” Brokkr snorted.

  Sindri shrugged. “Really, it was more a matter of receiving stolen goods, if you ask me. Hard to blame them for it, really, no matter what the Creator and the Nim said. It was theirs by rights anyway, in my thoughts.”

  “Too bad they couldn’t handle it when they had it. None of what occurred after would have happened if they could.”

  “The abomination wasn’t on them,” Sindri said sharply. “That one caused all this, not them.”

  “You think they weren’t responsible?” Brokkr asked. “Never pegged him as insane until after they changed, you know.”

  “Still not their responsibility,” Sindri said. “They can’t be responsible for how someone else acts.”

  “Yeah, well, it hardly matters much anymore, does it?”

  “No, I don’t suppose it does.”

  *****

  “Growing tired already?” Ser’Goth asked mockingly as she evaded Jolinr’s swings easily, his weapon being surprisingly powerful but slow and easy to read.

  Jol was looking frustrated as he panted, hanging back a little more than he had earlier, giving her room to move. She took advantage of it, circling him to the left as she waited for Jol to make his next move. He attacked predictably, just as expected, and with the extra distance he’d foolishly offered her, Ser’Goth had time to flex her wings powerfully.

  The force of the displaced air slid her to one side as Jol passed, exposing his left flank to Ser’Goth’s counterstrike. She sneered and lunged in to drive her blade home, only to be stunned when a matte black blade came out of nowhere to intercept her.

  If she hadn’t been so irritated by losing the chance to end the life of her previous toy, she would have been more amused by the fierce look on the blonde child’s face as she glared up at her from across the trembling blade barely holding Ser’Goth’s own at bay.

  “Are you still here?” Ser’Goth asked, glowering down at the girl.

  “Not going anywhere until you’re dead on the ground,” the girl had the sheer nerve to reply, “and those stones are rubble.”

  Ser’Goth laughed. “Delusional and optimistic. I always did enjoy that in you baseline humans.”

  A flicker of motion caught her attention, and Ser’Goth casually drew her dagger in her free hand and blocked the hammerblow directed at her from her open flank.

  “Really, Jol, after everything we’ve meant to one another, you try to kill me unawares?” she drawled. “I rather thought better of you, what with that human honor and all.”

  “Sorry to disappoint,” Jolinr growled.

  “Oh, my boy,” Ser’Goth smiled widely, “the only disappointment is that you didn’t try to kill me in my bedchamber. I would have made your death so much more enjoyable if you had managed to find the balls to make your play there.”

  *****

  Elan looked between the demon and Jol, confused by the demoness’s statement until she realized that Jol was unwilling to meet her eyes when she looked in his direction. Her mind clicked on the words, and instantly she felt her own face flushing with blood.

  “You . . . and she?” Elan blurted, looking askance at Jol.

  Still bright red, Jolinr grimaced. “It isn’t like that . . . not really. She’s just hard to . . . say no to?”

  Elan grimaced, her expression one of total disgust. “Really? She’s a demon!”

  “A demon in the bedchamber, why, yes, I am.” The demoness grinned at the pair.

  “Look, it’s really complicated, alright?” Jol tried to defend himself. “I mean, really, really complicated.”

  Ser’Goth laughed, vastly amused by the situation. “Really it wasn’t, you know. Tab D into slot V, pretty much the same as with humans.”

  “That’s not what I meant!”

  “It wasn’t?” Ser’Goth asked, mockingly surprised. “Oh my, terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of your new girlfriend here.”

  Elan hissed, angling her blade to slide the demon’s weapon off it as she stepped in and planted a right cross into her jaw. Flesh smacked loudly against flesh and bone. Elan groaned in pain as her knuckles felt like they’d just broken against an iron slab, but she was rewarded by a similar groan and wince from her target.

  “Ow,” Ser’Goth said laconically, making her rethink just how effective the strike had been. “I think my jaw is still broken; otherwise I can’t imagine feeling that little love tap, child. If you wanted to take Jol’s place, you really only needed to ask. I don’t mind playing with little girls like you.”

  Elan’s eyes blazed as she kicked into Ser’Goth’s knee and cleared distance to bring her blade back into play.

  “That will never happen,” Elan snarled.

  “Never say never, child, and don’t go refusing new experiences before you get a chance to try th
em,” the demoness answered with a wide grin, bringing her own long blade up to catch the next attack by Elan with ease, all while keeping control of Jol’s hammer with the edge of her short blade. “You really might enjoy it.”

  Elan shrieked and renewed her assault amid laughter from her target.

  *****

  “Children,” Brokkr said, shaking his head as he watched the fight.

  Sindri shrugged. “Youth is wasted on the young, or so they say. It’s too easy to rile them up, but if she’s not careful, that might bite Her Ladyship in the backside.”

  “I believe that’s what she was suggesting, brother.”

  Sindri laughed, lowering his head as he shook with the rumbles of it.

  “We should help them, I suppose,” Brokkr said after a moment.

  Sindri sighed.

  The two rather disliked getting involved directly; it wasn’t their sort of thing to do. Both of them were more known as support as opposed to frontline warriors. Neither had gathered, or had ever wanted to, the skills and reputation that followed Kaern around almost anywhere he went.

  Still, that was Jol out there, and both could tell that there was no way the pair was going to defeat Herself the way they were going. The Third Circle demoness was clearly dominating the battle, despite some surprises being thrown her direction.

  “Well, the girl’s plan is shot to the hells,” Sindri said finally, “so I suppose we should pull their rear ends out of the fire and go to ground. Might even be able to duck the search for a while.”

  “The girl knows where the local transport center is,” Brokkr said. “We can use that to get her and Jol out of here, if nothing else.”

  Sindri nodded thoughtfully. “Aye. We’ll do that. Look for the opportunity.”

  Brokkr didn’t respond as he turned his focus on the fight. As one-sided as it was, the kids would learn a lot here . . . assuming they lived. The brothers would do what they could to assure that, for old times’ sake if nothing else, but that was approaching the limit of their actions . . . possibly even exceeding what they truly wanted to do.

  Kids. How is it they always manage to make a man do more than he intended? Even we, who are childless for all eternity, fall to their influence. The Creator was truly mad when he designed the infinity. Only an insane sense of humor explains any of the things I’ve seen.