Sleeper Of The Wildwood Fugue (Book 7)

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “It’s good to see you too,” Nyx says as she hugs back. She unleashes a lightning bolt to blast an approaching blood soldier. “We might want to do this later. How are you doing, Dariana?”

  “I’m fine and happy to see you again,” the silver-haired woman replies, darting behind the others. She catches the incoming blade of a blood soldier between her hands and destroys its mind. “Timoran and Fizzle climbed up to the higher level and the others are resting in a chapel that we promised we would return to. Sharne was injured and Delvin needed a break from the cursed sword, but he wanted Luke to watch over him just in case. We don’t know how to get back to them since the passage closed.”

  Nyx creates a hurricane dome around them, deflecting the attacks of two blood soldier squads. “There are doors and stairwells all over this floor of the temple. I’ve been fighting for a while, but I didn’t want to lead these things through the rest of Helgard. After I escaped into an empty library and they followed, I came back here. They keep coming and only magic appears to hurt them. I’m glad I didn’t activate my mom’s bracelet or I would have been killed. Any ideas before I drop the barrier? Don’t ask me where I went because this isn’t the time to explain.”

  “I can contact the others and have them meet us somewhere,” Dariana suggests as she rubs her temples. “Another idea is to lead these creatures into an ambush. Though, I don’t know of a room that would work for that.”

  “Well, the library was pretty big and had tables that we could use as blockades. No books to worry about either,” Nyx mentions while she takes a sip of water from her waterskin. “Contact Sharne and tell her how she can kill these things. Take the directions to the library from my mind and give those to her and Luke. Once I drop this shield, stay behind me. I can handle the front better if I don’t have to worry about hitting you two.”

  A blood soldier rises out of the floor between the three women and clumsily slashes at Nyx, its arm slicing through her waterskin. Sari catches the water on one of her daggers and transforms it into a blade of ice. With a quick slash, she shatters the creature’s arm and follows up with a stab to its chest. The blood soldier solidifies from the intense cold and crumbles into powder, making the gypsy smirk with pride. Gathering the last of the water, she makes another ice dagger and nods for Nyx to drop the barrier.

  *****

  Timoran groans and Fizzle whimpers when the sweltering heat at the volcano’s summit hits their faces. The drite takes to the air, rising high enough to catch a cool breeze. He returns to his friend who has moved to the edge of the summit, his great axe ready in case he slips and has to slam it into the stone. They watch the swirling magma below, imagining what the heat would be like if it was closer. Backing away, the barbarian looks out over the moonlit desert and lets the tension ebb from his muscles. He can see the Helgardian encampment in the distance, but they are too far away for him to make out any details. Further away is a herd of slender creatures that run up a dune and take to the air, gliding into the sky where they vanish among the stars.

  “What that?” Fizzle asks, staring across the volcano.

  The light from the crater is enough for Timoran to see a short, wide object that is the color of fresh blood. Signaling for Fizzle to fly high and unseen, the barbarian creeps along the edge of the volcano. He stops when an explosion from below shakes the ground and makes his heart leap into his throat. Shuddering at the thought of falling into the magma, Timoran continues moving toward the strange object. When he comes to the altar made of flowing blood, he waves for Fizzle to join him. The drite lands on his shoulder and hisses at the sinister structure that reeks of death.

  “I’m part demon and even I find it disgusting,” Sutter mentions as he climbs out of the volcano. He wipes the magma off his arms and spits on the altar, the fiery blob sizzling in the crimson liquid. “My master put this here to control her abominations. I’m forbidden from destroying it, but perhaps your channeler can do the job.”

  “We are looking for Nyx,” Timoran says, cautiously watching the Ifrit. “Do you know where she is? Last we saw her, she was swallowed by a bronze coffin.”

  “That would be Nuerin who is a former champion and the maniac behind what you’ve seen here,” the lesser demon explains while waving his arm over the volcano. His mane bristles and he roars at the sky, his sharp teeth dripping fiery spit. “She thought she was better than everyone, so she broke the rules. Then she twisted Helgard and filled it with disgusting undead. To this day, I think Gabriel was up to something when he forged her destiny. There was too much of a chance that she would turn down a dark path and damage his plans. Though, I’ve always wondered if someone meddled with Nuerin’s destiny without the Tri-God knowing. It really doesn’t matter now. Your friend killed Nuerin a few hours ago. I’ve already spit and stomped on the remains.”

  “What mean for demon?” Fizzle asks, darting around Sutter. He returns to Timoran when the Ifrit growls and makes a half-hearted grab for the dragon. “Sorry. Fizzle wonder what guardian do now.”

  Sutter takes a deep breath and lets out a crackling belch followed by puffing out a few clouds of smoke. He gently kicks at the altar, but a surge of pain runs through his body when he makes contact. With another roar of frustration, the lesser demon stomps on the ground. A crack races across the summit, forcing Timoran to leap to the side. Another rumble from below shakes the volcano and makes the damage worse. Scratching flakes of basalt off his muscular chest, Sutter reaches out to attract a ball of magma.

  “I am not the true guardian,” he admits as he fills the crack with molten rock. With a gentle breath, Sutter cools the magma and repairs the damage he caused. “I am only a servant and I would have been merged with the scepter if I had not assisted Nuerin in her plans. I betrayed the purpose I was summoned for and it cost Helgard everything. Now I only hope that my time is coming to an end. At least I no longer have to deal with that creepy gnome if I kill Nyx.”

  “I do not understand why you have to kill her if your master is gone,” Timoran politely says. He pulls a flask out of his pouch and takes a long drink of Ifrit mead, tempted to ask if the lesser demon knows of the brew named in his honor. “There is no reason to fight us since you are free.”

  “Because I am the final test of Helgard,” Sutter states, flashing a hungry smile. His shoulders pop as he flexes his arms and fingers. “If Nyx can defeat me then I will be free, but her favored element is fire. That puts the fight in my favor and I will use my full strength. Only a true champion shall conquer Helgard.”

  “Demon no sound happy,” Fizzle points out.

  The Ifrit plucks the drite out of the air and catches Timoran’s great axe without looking. “I am proud of my role, but I am tired of this life. I no longer remember the Chaos Void. If I was to be banished, I would feel like I’ve stepped into a foreign land. So I convinced a test subject of Nuerin’s to change the rules of my defeat. She’s now been combined with the scepter, but she did what I asked beforehand.”

  Fizzle’s eyes turn gold and he squints at Sutter’s aura, slipping out of the lesser demon’s loosening grip. He can see the expected energy that resembles an inferno, but he senses that something is different. His experience with demons is limited, but he knows enough about fire creatures to get a feel for what should or should not be within the creature’s essence. Flying around the Ifrit, he examines every inch until he finds a barely noticeable void. The gap is in the back of Sutter’s head and resembles a coin slot, understanding dawning on the drite’s face.

  “Demon no banish. Demon die. Remove tether piece. No want go home, so want death.”

  “That is correct,” Sutter states, letting go of Timoran’s axe. “If I am defeated then I will cease to exist. I won’t even go to an afterlife because demons no longer have such a thing. I’ve been enslaved for so long that it is the only escape that appeals to me. Yet I refuse to lay down and die. Nyx will have to survive my full power if she is to become the true champion of Helgard. Though the rest of you m
ight be able to finish the job, but that is less likely than a fire-loving channeler defeating an Ifrit.”

  “I will do what I can to give you peace,” Timoran promises, offering his flask to the surprised demon. “It is a mead named after your kind. Has a fiery kick for us mortals, but I will not make promises on how it will taste to you.”

  “Thank you,” Sutter says as he takes the flask and throws it into his mouth. He crunches the metal and licks his lips at the taste of liquor. “Very sweet. I can see why you drink it and I assume its taste to you is more formidable. Otherwise, every Ifrit that has ever lived should be offended at the mildness.”

  The volcano shakes and the blood altar glows with a pulsing light. Howling screeches rise from the depths of Helgard as the crimson ichor flows into the ground. Sutter’s eyes roll back and become white orbs beneath rapidly fluttering lids. He senses what is happening within the temple and growls at the rising stench of the blood soldiers. Chanting in a voice that resembles a crackling fire, the Ifrit summons a stairwell that goes down to the raging battle.

  “Your friends are still fighting the remains of Nuerin’s creatures below,” Sutter explains, reaching out to pat the barbarian on the shoulder. “They are not part of the test, so I have no problem telling you what to do. Any form of magic will work against them including mind powers and that forest tracker’s forms. They will continue coming because this altar revives them. Help your friends turn the tide and return here with Nyx and those who are useless against the creatures. I will be waiting.”

  “Thank you. Even though we will meet in battle, I hope you find peace before the day is done.”

  Sutter snorts and turns away, listening to the barbarian charge down the stairs. “I really have become far too mortal over the centuries. I actually felt . . . happy that the big piece of meat cares.”

  *****

  The library is in chaos as the blood soldier army marches through the fallen wall and over the smashed furniture. Nyx’s spells slam into the rear ranks of the creatures while Luke and Sari dart among the closer enemies. The gypsy’s ice daggers shatter whatever they touch while the forest tracker struggles to make a dent in their enemies. All he can do is hack off limbs and heads that grow back within seconds. He is eventually forced back to the bottom of the stairs that grew out of the ceiling, holding the position alongside Sharne and Dariana. The two women pluck at the minds of the blood soldiers, making them splatter to the floor one by one. Everyone knows that they can only stand their ground since the endless army refuses to retreat and does not appearing to be thinning out.

  Far away from the others, Delvin screams and roars as he brutally slashes through the blood soldiers. His attacks are only a little more effective than Luke’s, the monsters taking longer to recover from the Reflector Blade. The weight of the bastard sword is no longer a problem since he has fallen further under the curse. The weapon feels like a natural part of his body and he wields it with one hand while using the seat of a chair as a shield. When the creatures fall back, he glances at the rear of the room where Nyx is hurling every combat spell she can imagine. The blood soldiers eventually break through the others and swarm toward the caster. Delvin charges at them, madly slashing those around him before crashing into the wave of monsters. They are forced back by lightning bolts and the crazed warrior’s savage attack.

  “Would you people stop letting them get to Nyx?” Delvin shouts at the others. He fights the urge to throw his sword at Luke who scowls at him. “If you’re not going to leap into the army as usual then run away like a child! We can’t afford to show any weakness!”

  “Keep yelling at our friends and I’ll use you as a club, Cunningham,” Nyx threatens, shoving the warrior aside to unleash a wave of energy blades across the floor. “Stay by me and fight the curse because I don’t want you out there like this. You’re likely to attack one of our own if pushed too far.”

  “I’m the one planning the strategy, so don’t order me around,” Delvin snaps. The stunning backhand from Nyx clears his head and he glares at the evil blade. “Thanks. I needed that. Do it again if I start acting that like again.”

  “You got it, strategist.”

  Delvin meets the approaching blood soldiers, making sure not to move too far from Nyx. He can feel the curse coiling around his mind and a voice trying to convince him to attack Luke for being useless. The wordless shouts help him drown out the sinister suggestions, but it gets harder with every swing. Opening his mouth to roar in frustration, he is surprised at the deafening battle cry that erupts. It takes a second to realize that it is not his voice, but someone getting closer from above. Spinning to behead four blood soldiers and turn around, he dives out of the way of a huge form leaping into the fray. Timoran lands with an echoing thud and barrels into the monsters, the sudden savagery driving the entire army back a few steps.

  “Fizzle and Timoran back with news!” the drite announces before he casts an iron lance spell at the monsters. The metal projectile strikes the floor and explodes, sending shrapnel into the nearby enemies. “Stairs go to top. Icky altar source of monster power. Sutter there as final test. Say to go with useless ones. Not sure what that mean.”

  “He means whoever is useless against these things should go with Nyx to the top of the volcano,” Delvin explains, his breathing heavy and ragged. He drops his makeshift shield and punches himself in the face, garbling the evil voice of the sword. “I suggest myself, Sharne, and Luke. I can’t be far away from Nyx thanks to this curse and the other two are having the hardest time. Sharne is doing some damage, but you can tell that her injuries are taking their toll on her reflexes.”

  “Sutter say Luke forms work on monsters.”

  “I agree about you and Sharne, but I say we take Timoran,” Nyx says as she sends a swarm of fireballs into the army. “He’s already losing ground with them. They were only scared of the sudden entrance. Fizzle, take over sending spells into the army and I’ll get to Luke and Sharne.”

  “I’ll get Timoran,” Delvin states with a mad grin.

  Fizzle sends a disintegration beam at the blood soldiers as Nyx sprints for the stairs. She flings acid bolts and fire fists into the crowd, striking one monster that is about to pounce on Sari. She signals to the gypsy that she is going up the stairs and points at Luke and Sharne. The worried expression on her friend’s face gives her pause. She snaps out of her worry in time to ram into the monsters around the stairs with a shield of force. Sending the spell into the shrieking mob, she knocks the blood soldiers to the other side of the room.

  “I’m taking Sharne, Delvin, and Timoran to the summit where Sutter is waiting by an altar that keeps these things regenerating,” Nyx rapidly says, gasping for air. Not bothering to be flashy, she hurls a massive fireball at the crowd and half of the library erupts in flames. “Fizzle will take over the distance spells while Dariana holds the stairs. Don’t hold back, Sari! You’re going to have a lot of room to work with. Luke is going to transform because his spirit forms can hurt these things. That’s the plan and the rest of us will destroy that altar as soon as we can. Stay safe and keep fighting.”

  “You too,” Luke awkwardly replies, unsure of what else to say. He leaps off the stairs and hurries to an open space while sheathing his sabers. “Once these things are gone, we’ll be joining you.”

  Nyx grabs Sharne by the wrist and rushes up the stairwell, not bothering to see if Timoran and Delvin are following. The two warriors rush by Dariana who pops the minds of the blood soldiers chasing them. Taking a deep breath, Sari dives further into the army and whispers spells as she moves. Without warning, the gypsy explodes into a shower of icy chunks and materializes several yards away to attack again. Dizzy from the complicated spell, she focuses on countering the monsters while she backs out of the crowd. When she breaks through the army’s ranks, she nearly stops at the sight of the unexpected beast in front of her.

  Growling and clawing at the ground, Luke is the form of another chimera. The wings and head of the
griffin are on Stiletto’s slender body, which is three times its normal size to work with the bigger animal’s parts. Weaving in the air behind him is the tail of a spirit naga, the black spike dripping paralytic poison. Taking to the air, the chimera unleashes a sound that is a horrific combination of all three beasts. Luke sends twenty blood soldiers splattering across the floor and walls on a single swoop, howling triumphantly as he makes another pass.

  Not wanting to be outdone, Sari rushes back into the army and is quickly surrounded by the blood soldiers. They attack her with renewed strength, their fear of the chimera driving them to eliminate the weaker threats. She takes a cut on the arm after shattering several enemies, but the pain stuns her enough to steal her momentum.

  “Put ice on the stairs,” Dariana says as she lands next to Sari. Her strikes burst the blood soldiers, each blow delivering a psychic bolt. “You pushed yourself too hard, so I’ll watch your back.”

  “Thanks,” Sari gasps, casting an ice wall that blocks the stairs. She moves back to back with the silver-haired woman and grows ice blades from the pommels of her daggers. “I owe you a drink after this.”

  “I don’t drink.”

  “Then some candy.”

  “Never had that before.”

  “Oh, Dari, we need to show you how to live.”

  Blood soldiers shatter and melt around the two women as they stab and punch. It is an elegant dance of destruction as they jump and spin around each other. While they do not make any progress in pushing the army back, Dariana and Sari are impossible to move from their tight circle of dominance.

  20

  Delvin ignores the shouting from Nyx who is with Sharne on the other side of the rumbling volcano. All he is focused on is reaching Sutter first and putting an end to the tests of Helgard. So when Timoran tries to tackle him, the warrior whirls around with his bastard sword swinging for his friend’s head. The barbarian blocks the attack, but slips on the crumbling outer edge of the mouth. Delvin is sprinting forward again as Timoran struggles to drag himself back onto solid ground. The possessed warrior is racing toward the back of the Ifrit when walls of flame erupt from the stone. The force knocks him on his back and he scrambles to his feet, furious as he watches a second barrier appear on the other side of the volcano. No matter the direction, there is no way for Delvin to get to Nyx and Sharne who are now trapped with the Ifrit.