The Demon City

by Evan Currie

  “But . . . why now?”

  Sindri shrugged. “Many reasons. I expect that the trigger for this was, at least, twofold. You’ve been paying too much attention to the girl, Jol, and not enough to what others were seeing . . . and saying. They’ve been watching someone fight, and win, against powerful demons. That’s emboldened them.”

  “This is because of Elan?” Jol felt . . . he didn’t know how he felt about that. He had fought and won against demons many times in his life, but he had always hidden that fact.

  “No, this was always coming,” Sindri told him. “It’s not in the nature of man to kneel forever. She just brought it a little closer to the surface. No, I suspect that the demons did the rest themselves. Look over there . . .”

  Jol followed his guidance and frowned as he saw demons pulling struggling people out of a building, dragging them into the streets. He tightened his grip on his hammer, eyes narrowing.

  “Someone, I expect Herself,” Sindri said, “lit the fires here. Those demons are likely tasked with retrieving sacrifices for the stones. Back even the meekest into a corner from which there is no escape, and you had best prepare yourself for the fight of your life.”

  “We’re going to help, aren’t we?” Jol asked, eyes burning as he watched the scene.

  Sindri smiled slightly, gesturing ahead of them. “I will follow your lead. Show them what you can do.”

  “With pleasure,” Jolinr said, striding forward as his knuckles whitened around the leather wrap of his hammer’s handle.

  *****

  They were enjoying their current task.

  Demons of the Ninth and Eighth Circles were in pain all the time, and it did little for the disposition, which was already undergoing some nasty changes. The urge to lash out at anything around them was an intentional part of their mental conditioning, turning what had once been normal enough people into sadists by nature. Not hurting people took discipline or fear, and there was plenty of the second in the city. Now they were off the leash, and despite the violence raging around them, or rather because of it, the weakest demons in the city were experiencing a near orgasmic rush.

  None of them had anything that really resembled names anymore. At most they responded to some specific series of grunts, but more often just to whatever was directed most obviously in their direction. Their orders had been clear and wonderfully open to interpretation.

  Bring humans to the stones alive. No other requirements.

  For the likes of the weaker circle demons, that was a smorgasbord of delights being offered up. There were so many things they could do to humans without killing them, after all, and they intended to do every single one of those things.

  So it was perhaps understandable that the group that dragged a family from where they had been cowering in one of the buildings was a little overly focused on their pleasures, such that they never saw their death coming from behind them.

  The first hint they had of trouble was when a meaty crack sounded loud above the screaming and the largest of their fellows froze in place, with a halo of black blood surrounding his skull. For a long, interminable moment, the body and the blood just hung there, . . . and then both fell to the ground, revealing a tall, angry-looking human standing with a hammer in one hand and death in his eyes.

  The group had just begun to move in response when the man surged right into their midst, that hammer coming with a force unbelievable. A demon’s jaw shattered as it was lifted off the ground and sent flying back a dozen feet, and then another’s neck and skull were turned into broken remnants of what they once had been. Three fell in just seconds, before the rest could focus on the threat, but once they had done that, half of those remaining were cut down from behind by a short man no one even saw coming.

  The fight was over in just a few seconds more then, sword and hammer turning the remaining demons into twitching messes on the ground as the two fighters carefully ensured that the area was as secure as it could be and no other demons were rushing to stop them.

  The family on the ground cringed back from the blood-spattered duo, but the short man ignored them. The taller of the two looked them over with tired acceptance and gestured to the building.

  “Go hide,” he said, “or pick up a weapon and fight . . . but don’t stay in the streets. We won’t save you a second time if you’re determined to die here.”

  *****

  Jol was surprised when two of the younger ones both instantly volunteered to fight.

  He hadn’t expected that.

  Their parents—or he assumed they were the parents—tried desperately to dissuade them, but the two young boys—almost men, he supposed—refused to be turned. They stripped some of the demons of what they could find, mostly stone weapons.

  “Be careful with those.” Jol nodded to the stone axe and hammer they’d retrieved. “Stone will kill a demon, but not easily. If you can find iron, trade up to that as soon as possible.”

  The boys nodded with grim looks on their faces, earning a laugh and a grin from Sindri.

  “I think we can do them one better,” the short man said, extending his hand to the first for the axe.

  It was reluctantly handed over, and Sindri took out a steel tool and quickly etched a few symbols into the stone. When he was done, just a few seconds’ work, he handed it back.

  “That will hold for a short while,” he said. “No more than days, at most, but enough for your needs tonight. Your axe will kill.” He took the hammer and did the same, handing it back to the boy. “As will your hammer. Now, take your family and get them somewhere secure but not too hidden. We may need to find them later if things go badly. Running may be our only option here.”

  “Where can we run to?” the oldest male asked, eyes wide. “The city is surrounded by water . . . I . . . I can’t swim.”

  “Wouldn’t help much if you could,” Sindri said. “We’re miles from shore. There are ways out of the city, some better than others. We will see what happens. Now go! When you’ve done that, find others and help them.”

  The two young men nodded, grabbing up their younger siblings and pushing them all away, leading them somewhere safe.

  Jol watched as the group limped off, stealing a look at Sindri.

  “I’ve never seen you offer help to people like that before,” he said, a touch of wonder in his voice.

  “Never been impressed enough to bother,” Sindri replied before tipping his head to the hammer Jol himself carried. “Almost never.”

  Jolinr nodded slowly. “Thank you.”

  “Come. We have more to do tonight,” Sindri said with a grin. “I doubt this revolution has a chance, but if it is going to happen anyway, we might as well see to it that it at least makes the demons pay some small amount of their debt.”

  *****

  The old basement of the building was covered in dust, so thick Elan could feel it crunch slightly under each step, but it wasn’t the slime and muck of the surface, so she supposed she should be happy about that. It was odd how she’d stopped noticing the mess after a while, right up until it was gone. Now she felt filthy for having been exposed to it and, in fact, was rather filthy in all truth. Being bounced around by that demonic bitch hadn’t done much for her clothing once the armor had been peeled off her, after all.

  So now she had dust clinging to her in addition to the unspeakable muck she’d been tossed in.

  So much better.

  “Check here.” Brokkr gestured to a section of the wall with what looked like a thin section tacked onto it.

  Elan looked it over briefly, then realized it was a panel like she’d seen on Avalon. She pulled it open and found the inside looked familiar enough, though most looked far worse than similar sections on Avalon. There was a blinking light still functioning, though, which was what she’d been hoping to see.

  “There’s power,” Elan said happily. “I think we can get through here.”

  She carefully reached in and felt around for the connector switch, then pul
led it clear. It was just a friction fit, requiring no tools, thankfully. Merlin had made her fiddle with similar cables on Avalon and on the redoubt at Atlantis. The systems were solid and lasted a long time, but as good as they were, they still needed maintenance. She checked the remnants of her armor, pulling the helmet portion up so she could find the section Merlin had called the input connector, and jammed the cable in.

  Her vision flickered briefly, then a new section of information appeared in front of her eyes.

  Elan found the open communications channel and changed it over to what Merlin had called the emergency channel.

  “Merlin, are you listening?” she asked, ignoring Brokkr as the short man winced. “Please be listening . . .”

  *****

  Sitting in the web of Avalon, most of the elemental intelligence’s attention was set on the fighting around the nearby standing stones, but he kept a thread focused on Lemuria, despite not having the time to spare to do a full search for the missing Elan. So when a message in a familiar voice came over the emergency channel, Merlin’s attention snapped back in an instant as he shifted fully to a new stance and poured focus into Lemuria.

  “Elan? What happened?” he demanded. “Are you alright? Can you get back to the transport facility?”

  “I’m fine,” Elan’s voice returned, causing him to relax marginally. “I’m not going to the transport yet. I have things to do, but I need help. There’s a situation here . . .”

  Merlin forced down the urge to argue, becoming all business.

  “Report,” he said firmly.

  “There’s a full rebellion here now,” Elan told him. “The demons are in chaos. The people are burning anything that will light on fire, but the stones are intact. I tried to destroy them, but some kind of defense froze the shot from the sidearm in midair . . .”

  “I’m aware. I reviewed the imagery after I lost contact with you,” Merlin told her. “Such defenses were reported toward the end of the war, but none were confirmed until now. I don’t know how you can get your weapon to penetrate the field . . .”

  “Uh . . . about that,” Elan said, sounding chagrined, “I sort of got the weapon destroyed. Sorry?”

  Merlin groaned, though he’d half expected that possibility. Frankly, it was one of the better case scenarios he’d considered since he’d lost contact with her. Loss of armor and weapon was infinitely preferable to the loss of Elan, not that he was going to let her know that.

  “Another one?” he asked dryly. “Honestly, child—”

  “I know, alright, I’m sorry.” She cut him off. “We need to figure out how to help this revolution, though, and destroy those stones at the same time if we can.”

  “You don’t have many materials on hand for funding a revolution, I’m afraid,” Merlin said grimly. “The facility below was shut down after fighting had basically bled out every resource available. If the reactor were online, you might be able to destroy the city entirely, I suppose . . . That would certainly eliminate the stones . . .”

  “I activated the reactor, didn’t I?”

  “No, just the backup,” Merlin said. “Thorium is too stable for that use, I’m afraid . . . and the yield is far too low, even if it were possible. You’d need to power the main reactor, and frankly, child, there is no possible way you’re ready for an operation of that nature.”

  “There has to be something we can do,” Elan said. “Though, thinking about it, I’d rather not get everyone killed here, if it’s possible, please?”

  Merlin was silent for a time, thinking about the nature of the problem. Problems, actually. The revolt on Lemuria was one issue; the stones were another.

  Can we leverage one to help with the other?

  “Do you think you can contact the leadership of the revolt?” Merlin asked.

  “I don’t know that there is much leadership yet,” Elan said honestly, grinning at Brokkr, who just looked at her quizzically since he was only hearing half of the conversation. “But give us time, and I think that can be arranged.”

  “Time is the one thing you do not have much of,” Merlin scolded lightly. “But if you can, it will make things much easier. There is still the issue of the defense around the stones, and I do not know how you might get through that . . .”

  He trailed off, hesitating as something occurred to him, but the idea was anathema to him, who had known the city in its prime. Finally, Merlin grimaced and just spat it out.

  “You could sink the city,” he said, hating every word.

  “Sink the city? How? Why?” Elan blurted, drawing a sharp, wide-eyed look from Brokkr.

  “Lemuria was built intentionally over a powerful node of energy detected deep within the earth,” Merlin told her. “This node was off the shore of the closest landmass, but that wasn’t much of a deterrence. If you flood the lower pylons, the city will be rendered unstable at least. Likely it will sink entirely. That should destroy the stones.”

  “That will kill everyone,” Elan protested. “There are lots of people here. They’re fighting . . . I can’t . . . I . . .”

  “Child, you won’t save all of them,” Merlin told her softly, “but if you can get to the leaders of this revolt . . . you may be able to get as many as possible to the transport facility. We can evacuate as many as possible.”

  Elan looked down, breathing deeply as she considered that.

  “Okay, fine. Get me what I need to do it,” she said grimly after a moment’s thought. “We’ll bring down the city.”

  *****

  Brokkr listened with widening eyes as he caught the gist of the discussion just from Elan’s side of things. Merlin didn’t pull punches, that much was clear. He shouldn’t have been surprised by that, not after the turn things took toward the closing days of the war.

  Orbital strikes, chemical weapons, and various other methods of mass destruction had rained down on the planet in the last desperate days of the war. When it was clear that losing meant likely extermination, the gloves had come off, and Merlin would have been one of, if not the, key command elemental behind that decision-making process.

  Clearly the war left a mark on the old-timer, Brokkr thought as Elan made her decision.

  “If you’re going to do that,” Brokkr cut in, “then we have our work cut out for us. We’d best be moving.”

  Elan conceded that reluctantly. “I’ll be in contact as I can, but for now . . .”

  She was reaching for the helmet when Brokkr stopped her. “Leave it. The runes will keep you connected. Leave the helmet here. You don’t need to carry it, and it’s useful linked to him.”

  Elan looked at it with surprised wonder, remembering the runes he had carved, and nodded.

  She tucked it in behind the panel, closing it as best she could, and nodded to the stairwell. “It appears that I’ll be able to stay in contact after all. Let me know when you have what I need. I’ll see about the first part now.”

  Brokkr followed her up the stairs, smiling slightly as he considered the mess he and his brother had gotten themselves into once more. Every now and then they did seem to happen on an interesting human or two. It kept life from being too boring, but if they weren’t careful, it would cut theirs short. For nigh on immortals, that was no small threat either.

  Bah, onward and upward then. No point worrying about the future. Let’s live up the present.

  Elan led the way as they burst out to the street level, turning left without hesitating or slowing her pace.

  “Where are you taking us?” Brokkr demanded, keeping up easily just a step behind her.

  “There’s a large group of people down this way, but they’re in trouble,” Elan said. “They showed up on functional security imagers.”

  Brokkr nodded, understanding. Now that she was again connected to the security system of the city, and with the help of Merlin to sort through all the information available to them, the girl might just be able to pull off the new plan.

  He wasn’t sure how he felt about sinking the
damned city, but it was just that . . . a damned city, so likely it was both inevitable and for the best. He would be very interested to see how well the child before him could pull it off. That almost made the whole thing worth the effort, though Brokkr didn’t expect much in terms of actual results from it all.

  In the end, city or no, the demons owned the world.

  Nothing was going to change that.

  *****

  The riot had begun when the demons came to take people away.

  That wasn’t an unknown, or even all that unusual, set of circumstances. It had happened before and would likely happen again. What had changed was something different for each of those present, but most of the people would, if asked, simply say that they knew what was going to happen to those taken away, and when the first punch was thrown . . . it just felt right.

  Fighting erupted like a blazing fire, starting in one place and burning out of control before anyone on either side had the slightest clue what was going on.

  Soon enough, there was a full-fledged riot in progress and no turning back.

  At first it had gone well too.

  The demons had been taken by surprise, mostly the weaker filth that made up the bulk of the demons in the city. They weren’t in significant numbers, trusting fear to even the scales to their favor. When anger replaced fear, things didn’t go so well for them.

  The riot spread across block after block, sucking in every soul in its path, as well as quite a few without souls.

  Then the demons were reinforced, and the new forces weren’t nearly as badly outnumbered . . . nor were they Eighth or Ninth Circle beasts.

  A group of Sixth and Seventh Circle demons led by a small cadre from the Fifth slammed into the rioters’ wall, killing dozens in the first few seconds and scattering them badly. The fight wasn’t out of them, but without the strong support of nearby rioters, the forward momentum they’d gained vanished in an instant.

  From then it descended into brawling. The lower filth were no longer running before them, but which side had the upper hand still changed back and forth a dozen times in as many minutes, and people and demons fell violently every passing second.