by Evan Currie
The boy gagged as Elan grabbed him by the throat, pushing him back into the closest wall.
“Call me a demon,” she whispered. “Go ahead, I dare you. There is almost nothing I hate more than that comparison, and you do not want to see me angry right now. Do you understand?”
He shivered, but that was all until she pushed a little harder.
“Well? Do you?”
“Yes! Yes, I understand!”
Elan let him loose, pushing him to the ground, and looked around. Forms were almost visible now, features nearly recognizable.
“That goes for all of you,” she growled, as angry at herself for overreacting as at the boy. “I am not a demon. I kill demons. Tonight, I’m going to kill a lot of demons. I’d rather not kill you too, but if you don’t listen to me, I will. Follow the voice’s directions, and it will get you out of the city. If you stay, you either die, or you change.”
“Proceed south,” Merlin said, a red light flashing down along the corridor.
Elan looked around, eyes blazing as no one moved.
“Now!” she yelled.
Most of them just started running, but some paused to gather up younger fellows.
Elan took a few breaths, calming herself. “Look after each other,” she said softly, “and listen to Merlin. He will guide you to safety.”
“What about . . .?” One of the younger ones looked up.
“Your parents?” Elan asked, getting a shake from the child. “Just . . . others?”
The young girl nodded vigorously.
“We’ll save everyone we can,” Elan said. “I can’t promise more. Now go. Tell anyone you can what is happening. Take them with you.”
She watched them run off.
“Merlin, can you address the rest of the people in the city?”
“I cannot run the risk of alerting the demons to the plan,” Merlin said softly. “That would bring their strength down on everyone you want to save.”
“Then just the ones you can identify as being alone,” Elan pleaded. “Tell them to gather up who they can. At least . . . at least give them a chance.”
Merlin was silent for a time but finally came back. “Very well. Your objective is just ahead.”
“Right.” Elan nodded, turning down the corridor again and heading for the flood controls.
*****
Across the city, isolated pockets of humans were startled when the walls began speaking to them.
“The city is no longer safe. There is an escape,” the voice told them, terrifying people by the hundreds, if not thousands, before going on. “Follow these directions if you want to live.”
Not everyone listened, but for many, they had been without hope for so long that any glimmer in the darkness was a piercing and blinding light they couldn’t ignore.
People emerged from their hiding places by the thousands, looking furtively in all directions, and scurried through the streets as they followed the directions they’d received. Most were surprised to find others they knew doing the same, and small groups merged into larger ones.
A migration was in play.
*****
The controls were fairly straightforward and surprisingly intact, given how much grime covered them.
“These systems were built to be completely indestructible,” Merlin replied when she said as much.
“Then how are we going to do this?” Elan asked, confused.
“There is a difference between normal wear, even accidental damage, and intentional sabotage,” Merlin replied, directing her to clean off a section of a panel. “Particularly when the saboteur has the master access codes. Pull that panel.”
Elan did as she was told, revealing a pattern of metal and other materials she knew very little about.
“Pull this section,” Merlin told her, highlighting part of the wall, “and jump the connection to this section.”
Elan carefully did, then closed the panel again. “That’s it?”
“Not even close,” Merlin said with a dry laugh. “However, if we can do this a few more times, then when we reactivate the central flood control systems, they will unbalance the system instead of doing what they were designed to. That will be the tricky part.”
“What?”
“The central system can only be accessed in one place,” Merlin answered, “and that is in the central spire at the center of the city. I believe it is currently being used as the center of the local demonic . . . government.”
“Of course it is,” Elan spat. “Fine. We’ll work it out. Where to next?”
“One more flood control system to rewire,” Merlin told her, “and then up to contact Jolinr and the other one.”
“Got it. Direct me.”
Merlin did, and Elan ran off into the dark, another job to do.
*****
Jolinr roared his exultation as he stood in the line of battle, slamming into the demonic forces with merciless rage. The roar was echoed up and down the line as men and demons clashed and died.
He’d been born for this moment, Jol thought as the sheer joy of the battle washed through him with every strike of his hammer. Humans were taking a stand against the demons, and they were winning!
Why had they waited so damn long to do this? It boggled his mind, but in the moment he no longer cared. The time had come, and that was enough.
He hammered down demons to the right and to the left of him, clearing a path to the high-level foes who had stood back to let their weaker fodder wear down the human line. Too bad for them that wasn’t going to happen this night, not if Jol had anything to say about it. He was so wired up, he was sure he could fight all night long and still be good for more come morning.
“Kill them all!” he roared, and similar sentiments echoed in the air from either side of him.
The two lines clashed violently. Swords and spears and whatever could be used as clubs were swung and stabbed down against claws and teeth and whatever weapons the demons had. The results were predictable; mass casualties tore both lines apart as they pushed deeper into one another.
Jolinr pushed harder than anyone else, wading through the dead and dying to get to the more challenging opponents waiting just on the other side of the fodder they had sent forth.
He roared, killing another scabby and diseased Ninth Circle demon as he forced his way to the other side and held his hammer out, directly aiming at the leader of the demons’ side.
“Come on, you coward!” Jol roared. “Fight me!”
The demon sneered at him, casually gesturing others forward. Jolinr didn’t wait to meet them, instead surging forward in response.
“Jol!” Sindri screamed in the background, caught in the tide of men and demons fighting to the death. “Don’t be a fool!”
Jolinr wasn’t interested in listening or in waiting.
He met the demons hard, bringing his hammer down on them from his superior height and driving them into the ground. He barely even slowed as he climbed over the falling bodies of demons and dove at the demon leader, much to the wide-eyed shock and fear of his target.
Before he could fall on his target, however, a weight fell from the sky and slammed Jol into the stone ground beneath him. His breath was blown from his lungs, and he curled up in pain and shock from the surprise strike. A hand wrapped around the back of his neck as he lay there, and Jol felt himself lifted into the air and twisted around to see the face of Ser’Goth staring at him, a decidedly creepy smile on the winged demoness’s visage.
“Ah, Jol,” Ser’Goth said sweetly, a bad sign for anyone who knew the demoness, “you and I have unfinished business.”
She turned to the demon leader, who was looking smugly at the trapped human now, and sneered.
“I saw that fear in your eyes, Mithr,” she hissed. “Eliminate all these humans, and quickly, or I will see it again. Briefly.”
The demon’s eyes widened in shock, but she turned away from him before he could say anything and pumped her wings hard. Ser’Goth
rose from the battle, shooting up quickly into the air with Jolinr in her grip, and angled back toward the city center as she flew off through the buildings.
*****
The demon commander watched for a moment, a fearful worry crossing his face before he focused back on the task.
“Kill them all! You heard the lady!” he ordered.
“Oh, boy.” A voice startled him. “Ye have no idea how truly forned you are here.”
The commander looked around and then down, to see a short man standing there where the boy had fallen. The demon sneered at the man. “And what do you know of things, shorty?”
The short man hefted a surprisingly large axe and slapped it once into his palm before it started to glow with an unearthly light that caused the commander to fall back a step.
“I know that the one I wanted to kill just left,” the short man said, “and I know that you really should call me Mister Shorty, but the second part won’t be a problem for long . . . Mister Dead Man.”
*****
Elan pulled herself up and swung her legs over the lip of the edge she was climbing, sliding out into the muck and filth of the street above. The two flood control sections in the area had been dealt with, and now she had to get to Sindri and Jol. Merlin had been having trouble monitoring them, but given the level of fighting in the area they were located, she couldn’t really be terribly surprised by that.
She got to her feet and looked up and down the street before turning and jogging toward the sound of fighting.
Whoa.
Elan was set back on her heels by the sheer scope of the fighting as she arrived, looking over the bodies—both living and dead—that filled the street ahead of her.
There were thousands of people milling about, most of them unable to get to the front to help in the fighting because of the crowds. Elan shook her head and ducked out to the left, following Merlin’s instructions, running into the lower level of a building and up one floor.
From above she could see the fighting better, and it didn’t take long for her to find Sindri, who was laying absolute waste to a whole cadre of demons that had made the tactical mistake of surrounding him. She winced as she watched his axe tear through a particularly large demon, leaving it in two ragged pieces on the ground as the short spinning dervish continued on to whale on another.
I don’t see Jol, Elan thought grimly, but ignored that and put a foot up through the window she was braced on.
She waited for the flow of fighting to come her way again and then leapt into the air with staff in hand. Elan rammed the weapon down through the skull of a particularly tall demon and used that to slow her fall. She turned the fall into a spin as she swung around the demon and planted two muck-covered boots into the face of another before breaking the staff out of the demon’s skull and dropping to the ground.
Demons and humans alike paused in their fighting, her entrance enough to cause both groups to simply gape.
Elan was getting used to that, actually, and didn’t waste any time wondering at it. She spun her staff about her hands in front of her, whipping it viciously into anything that stepped into her path and pausing only to deliver coup strikes to any demons she managed to fell along the way.
She struck out in all directions with all the strength in her upper body, not noticing the staff slowly gleaming with an internal power that grew with every strike. She kept her eye on a much brighter weapon glowing in the distance and fought in that direction, intent on joining up with the only face in the mass she knew.
Minutes that felt like hours went by. A burn was tearing up her arms, but Elan showed no sign of slowing as she sent another demon to the ground and opened a path for humans to flood in behind her. It was then she spotted Sindri in the distance, leaning on his axe as he stood on a massive pile of bodies. She looked about her, surprised to find that much of the fighting seemed to be over, and cautiously approached the unmoving, short figure.
“Sindri?” Elan asked carefully from well out of reach of his blade.
She’d nearly taken enough people’s heads off herself and knew that you didn’t just walk up to someone on a battle high.
This time it seemed an unnecessary caution, as the short man just looked up at her with a weary smile.
“Hello, Elan,” he greeted her. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Elan didn’t respond immediately, his tone screaming at her something she didn’t understand. She looked around. “Where’s Jol?”
In that instant she knew what his tone had been screaming and regretted her question, but it was too late.
Sindri slumped, his eyes closing as he leaned heavily on his axe and lifted a familiar hammer. Elan’s gut turned cold as she recognized the weapon Jol never parted with.
“He’s gone. She took him.”
Elan frowned. “She? Who . . . wait? She?”
“Aye. Herself arrived and took him up into the sky.” Sindri nodded up into the air between the buildings that towered over them. “I expect she took him back to her lair for a little amusement before she killed him. It’s her way.”
Elan seethed. “Where?”
“You don’t stand a chance, lass. Don’t even think it.”
“I asked where.”
Elan had left people behind before and didn’t ever want to experience that again. She’d do anything possible, and a few things impossible, to prevent it.
“Her lair.” Sindri shrugged, almost uncaring as he gestured. “The tallest point in the whole damned city.”
Elan turned, eyes widening.
He was pointing to the central tower.
Of course he is, she snorted. It was almost amusing, the way her life seemed to go.
“Well,” she said, forcing a smile, “that’s convenient.”
“What?” Sindri looked at her, confused.
“That’s where I’m going too.”
*****
Ser’Goth tossed the boy to the floor of her chambers, leaving him to slide along the smooth marble floor until he smacked into the far wall.
“You know, Jol,” she said smoothly as she casually tucked her wings in, stretched out her neck, and reached up to rub her own shoulders, “you’ve always been a source of such amusement . . . and pleasure. Oh, the pleasure . . . but I do digress . . . Sadly, I cannot forgive your impertinence this time.”
Jolinr grimaced and slowly pushed himself off the floor, wincing as he slipped and fell back against the wall. He decided to just sit there as Herself slipped off her armor, occasionally smirking over in his direction.
“I’m so terribly sorry,” he told her sarcastically. “If I’d known you felt so strongly about it, I wouldn’t have slaughtered so many of your underlings.”
Her laughter caught him by surprise, and he eyed her carefully.
“Oh, Jol,” she said, shaking her head. “You think this is about dead demons? I’ve long enjoyed watching you work, thinning the ranks of the weak. No, my little Jol, if they were weak enough for you to kill, I’m quite happy to see them go.”
Jolinr groaned as he pushed himself up. “If you knew and didn’t care, then why?”
“Why? Perhaps because you struck me?” She pouted, rubbing her completely healed jawline. “Nasty man you are, striking a lady . . .”
Jol snorted. “Title or not, a lady is not something you can claim to be.”
“That hurts.” She sniffed mockingly before looking at him with narrowed eyes. “And then, of course, there’s that little blonde tart you have been hanging around. Really now, Jol, am I not good enough for you?”
“In a word? No.”
Ser’Goth’s arm flashed, and Jolinr jerked as a dagger was suddenly embedded deep in the stone wall by his head. He stared at it for a moment before looking back at her. The humor was gone from her eyes. Now a naked rage burned there, and for a moment he felt real fear.
Then it was gone, and she straightened and her tolerant, amused air returned.
“You shouldn’t make me angry, Jo
l. I might choose to end you quicker and far more painfully than I originally had planned,” she said, carefully checking the state of her talons before buffing them on the leather of her harness.
“That’s fine by me,” he growled, pushing himself off the wall and lunging at her with his bare hands outstretched.
Chapter 26
Merlin was stunned by the sheer number of people who’d actually made it to the depths of the city, where the entryway to the command center was located. He made the best use he could of the active scanners, looking for infiltrators, but couldn’t find anything and reluctantly found himself following through on Elan’s desires.
The milling people were startled and then stunned when a massive door hissed as a seal broke, causing dust and dirt to fly from the cracks before it sank into the wall and then slid out of the way.
“Well, what are you lot waiting for?” Brokkr snapped. “That’s an invitation if I’ve seen any. Move on!”
Merlin projected himself on the inside, gesturing them to the right as they entered.
“Proceed directly to the transport section,” he said calmly. “We will transit people out in lots of five hundred at a time. You will be taken to a neutral station until security is ready to receive you. Be calm; you are safe.”
Brokkr came to a stop next to the projection and turned to watch the sea of humanity flow past.
“Merlin.” He inclined his head, not bothering to look at the projection. “Heard a lot about you.”
“I don’t engage in small talk with demons,” Merlin replied coldly.
Brokkr chuckled. “You’ve likely done more than that with quite a few. Our kind is almost impossible to detect unless we’re actively tapping into our heritage. Even have all the same organs in all the same places.”
“Infiltrators,” Merlin hissed, disgusted.
“Possibly a few,” Brokkr said with a shrug. “Most of us hate the circles just as much as you. More even, because we remember a time when they weren’t what they are now.”
Merlin looked him up and down skeptically. “Pardon me if I don’t take your word.”
“Oh, I’d be shocked if the legendary Merlin did any less,” Brokkr said, amused. “My brother and I never worked in your circles, of course. We were always more the support sorts, and you dealt with command and frontline elites. You knew some of us, though, for certain. Do you recall General Ibilian?”
