by M. P. Taylor
“Liar,” Gerald said, “The elders would never torture innocents to summon spirits. Beings like that monster and the creation of soulwells is a deadly offense.”
“Desperation my boy,” Harold explained, “The elders are afraid. They cannot defeat the dragon.
"I assure you, I'm just one of countless programs breaking their rules in the name of necessary power. Of course, I acted through proxy. I'm not foolish enough to show them my true nature. I needed them to think I was just another up and coming fleshcrafter. Someone who would be in the background of events and just waiting for the perfect storm.”
A softness came to his voice then, a hint of humanity, “It is a shame that you must die, Gerald, I've grown rather found of watching you work. So limited but so bright. So unlike your companion. She has so much power yet is still so dull. What I would do to have potential such as her...”
Now I liked to think of myself as a reasonably calm person. I tended not to think with anger but with a cold passion, a sort of pragmatic logic. There had been something about his words. Perhaps it was the comparison to Gerald and my apparent 'dullness'. Whatever it was, it got my blood boiling.
Who was this scum to speak to me in such a manner?
“That was a nice trick,” I said to the darkness, “Nullification, is that what you call it? All you did was lower the energy potential of the area. It took me by surprise, I admit, but don't think it's something so grand. Just basic entropy, really.”
“That so?” the voice in the darkness said.
There was a dull rumbling from outside Gerald's created light. The earth began to expand outward, erupting with large rocks as though a miniature earthquake was splitting the ground – a clear path that was coming right at me. He called my bluff.
With a level stance, I put my staff on the ground in front of me. I did calculations on the fly, trying to figure out the exact right amount of energy to both give and take.
The given energy was from myself, used to spur the spell. Entropy was costly business so I didn't wish to use much more than needed. I'd already used a number of spells this day and was beginning to feel weathered as a result. Focusing too much energy into this spell was a good way to wear myself out for the battle that was doubtless to come.
The second part, taking energy, was much easier. Using what I gathered, I created a dense pull that consumed all the energy from the space in front of me. All of it.
Harold spell of earthen hell roared in front of me as I activated the incantation. Instead of continuing forward, the energy was drained away and the spell itself was ended as though it never had existed – a little child within me jumped in joy as I pulled it off.
The earthquake had been nullified.
It had taken a good deal of energy but I didn't let it show, “Like I said. Just basic entropy.”
From the edges of the path a figure emerged.
It was hard to see much as Harold was covered in robes that would make the Nazgul quite jealous, “I was wrong,” he said, slightly amused, “Gerald, my friend, I'm sad to say you are the dull one after all.”
Better, I thought to myself, “Since we cleared that up, how about one more thing?”
I could feel a smile on Harold even though I couldn't see his face, “Oh? A question... very well. A single one.”
One question. There wasn't much to ask. I'd figured out much from his earlier gloating and the state of the parties involved. He'd mentioned the major players of the region. The elders and the dragon. He'd also mentioned the mortals which I took to mean those private military types that cornered me out of Nomia's glade. He played them against one another by promising a weapon that each of them would be able to wield. A weapon that he was apparently unleashing indiscriminately in order to throw everything into chaos. Soulwells, each flooding creatures of the abyss through into the mortal realm. Fingers would be pointed and heads would roll.
Chaos and war would come. Unless it stopped here.
My one question was the only one I could ever really ask – the only one that mattered, “Who are you working for.”
“How unoriginal,” Harold said.
Gerald sneered, “One question. One answer.”
“I didn't say anything about an answer,” Harold laughed.
I raised my staff, tired of this nonsense, but Harold raised his hand, “A jest, a jest. Besides, this was an answer I was order to give regardless of if the question was asked or not. In fact, I take great pride in answering it.”
He stepped forward. I could just make out his confident smile and focused eye looking straight at me as he spoke the name, “Almushil.”
The worst thing about his answer wasn't the name but the fact that I believed him. It made sense, Almushil was a demon that sought domination of all wizards. He hunted us from the old world to the new. So long as there were wizards outside of the demon's influence, he would continue his quest for bring us into his fold. I knew that well. I'd been one of his attempts to infiltrate and destroy the order and it had certainly proven a troubling experience.
That Almushil was still active, trying to disrupt my life and that of other mages, I wasn't a slight bit surprised. I'd just been blinded by the hope that perhaps the demon would have waited a few hundred years for his next attempt. I was fool. From the moment my possession ended, I should have prepared for his return.
“The soulwells. They aren't for summoning spirits are they?” I asked, knowing the answer already.
Gerald stiffened beside me, having come to my conclusion a moment later, “You're opening a way for the demon.”
“Among other things,” he nodded, “It's a tenfold plan – a dozen feints woven into the assault on your kind, a deathblow created by the master. Should you take the time to do any one thing, another shall happen where you cannot act. Shall I give examples?”
He didn't wait for an answer.
“The children in the safe house, they are being brought through a soulwell as we speak. One that is linked to my master's realm within the abyss. Dozens of new apprentices all trained to be ruthless soldiers of the true army. They will be magnificent. Then there are the soulwells above. No doubt creatures are slipping through your defenses, rushing forward to feast upon a city of mortals. The good captain certainly won't catch them all.”
“The wards will catch them,” Gerald said with confidence.
I didn't share it.
The wards around the complex were mainly meant for keeping thing out, not in. They might catch a few of the darker entities, but some would survive the day. That was assuming the portals got closed at all. If they remained open, a single demon would be the least of our problems. Soulwells were forbidden for a reason. They were unanchored gateways to the abyss. A few hours had already stretched the stronghold thin. What would a week or a month do?
“Gerald. Go get the kids,” I ordered him and began stepping forward towards the darkness where Harold stood.
He shot me a glance, “Cath you can't t-”
“I can,” I aimed my staff at Harold and began to march forward, “The children will need your help. We can't just let them be taken off to the abyss. Do your job justicar. Protect the innocent. We guilty will shed our blood here.”
Harold brought his hand together and clapped, “Well said.”
I pointed my staff at him, “Nix!”
Winter roared and the air became chilled as ice flowed into existence at the man.
He raised his hand and nullified my assault. Entrophic energy, just as I'd done a few moment before, but I could tell his was shoddy work. Some of the flecks of ice continued flowing for a moment. He either didn't have the power or reflexes to use such a spell in rapid succession. He stopped maintaining the spell a second later.
A blast of heat energy slammed into Harold, crackling upon his ward but the rogue wizard wasn't an amateur like his apprentices. The ward held and the flames died.
I turned to glare at Gerald, to urge him to get going and help the children as I'd a
sked.
He was already moving, disappearing at a full sprint further down the unseen path. Apparently he just wanted to fire off a parting shot. I smiled and turned back to Harold who stepped out of the flames and pulled a wand out from the folds of his robe. One that I'd seen before, small and dark with the color of blood.
“I see why the master has chosen you as his concubine,” Harold said while matching my stride, “Taking you alive will be a challenge, luckily I don't play fair.”
A roar came from my side as I caught sight of the eater charging forward from the darkness to my left. I'd lost sight of him when he disappeared behind a pillar but I hadn't forgotten about him. My free hand had been lurking in the fold of my jacket for just such an occasion. It gripped around a small vial of alchemic liquid that I lazily tossed at the abomination.
My staff whirled about pointing not at the eater, but at the vial. I used simple, raw kinetic force to shatter it and send the contents scattering through the air.
“Neither do I.”
The contents rained out onto Ethan's body. It sizzled to the touch, melting away skin and causing the spirit of hunger to scramble as its run was broken by pain and confusion.
Bile of a Basilisk – eater of all things organic. It would devour Ethan's body in time, burning away all flesh it came into contact with. I no longer was trying to exercise the evil spirit, there wasn't time. The best I could do now was kill the flesh and set Ethan free.
Getting in close was something the wizards were often loathed to do, and with good reason. We were a frail lot, prone to breaking bones and dying horrifically. That being said, there was a time in a place.
Harold was casting a spell. It was a safe assumption that it would be an evocation of some kind – compelling force to act upon me. If there was a friendly target in the way, he'd have to go through it to get to me. Thus I took my chances and closed with the eater. Blinded by the acid, it was the safer than trading magical blows.
“Damned wench!” Harold cursed when his line of sight was blocked by the monster.
Ysetoil lashed out at me, perhaps he heard my approach. The claws were wildly swinging gambits that didn't strike home. I took my chances and charged with my new blade, slashing upward into the torso of the beast. Vital fluid poured as I struck home and forced it to take a step back.
A spell would have killed it, but I didn't use one. The ration part of my brain wished to conserve arcane energy. The irrational part wanted to cause as much pain to the monstrous spirit as possible. For once, instinct and rational thought were in agreement
My assault continued. Slash after slash that aimed to tear apart the limbs. My ward took the impact of one of his wild swings that came too close, but in return I lodged my blade deeply into the depths of the eater's arm. There was a flickering of arcane power as the sword's supernatural abilities kicked in – the enchantment on the arm was broken. It feel loosely to the torso's side as whatever foul magic keep it working was severed.
Ysetoil recoiled from the blade, “That weapon! How?”
“Spoils of war,” I said through panted breaths, I really needed to start working out.
The ground rumbled as Harold decided his lackey wasn't getting the job done. It was a fair gambit on his part as I no longer was taking him into considered – the wild attacks from Ysetoil proved to be too dangerous to ignore.
It was a lapse in judgment that cost me dearly. Ground under my feet gave way as I was greeted by an impromptu meat grinder of rocks and soil that twisted and churned under foot.
I wasn't alone. I had the brief sight of Ysetoil collapsing into the ground and a splattering of blood shooting up.
There hadn't been time to move but my ward kicked in. There was a terrible force upon it that made my mind hurt. It was like waking from a pleasant dream and discovering you had a migraine. Nothing could brace one for the pain of having a self-sustained ward break. Before, with the blood knights, my ward had only been elegantly cut, a small hole, it hadn't shattered like one was threatening to do.
For the second time that day, I tapped into my life force.
It felt much different this time. Not a sharp stab of mental pain but a fatigue that ripped through my body and made me feel as though I'd just woken from a coma.
The next few seconds proved a harrowing task. It was so simple. Just drive my blade through the ground, yet my arms appeared to be made of stone.
A rough slash downward, and the spell ceased its function – the enchantment broke, allowing me climb out of the nearly fatal earth.
Ysetoil hadn't been quite so lucky. His legs were mangled and limp as though he were trying, frantically to escape the hell that pain must have been.
Throbbing in my head reminded me that it wasn't the only one suffering. The pain caused me to stagger a bit but I recovered through a an effort of focused will. If Theron hadn't drilled me for hours on blocking out pain, I'd most likely be rolling on the ground. He was a good teacher. It was funny how clear that thought came to me then – as though the very act of blocking pain was tied to the pleasant memories of my training. Memories that hadn't been pleasant at the time.
“Ysetoil,” I said while stepping forward, dragging my blade along the ground. The creature turned towards me with a hungry snarl. Even now, bloody and broken, it was hungry. It was its nature, “Die.”
“Ignorant meat, this is but the b-” he didn't finished his words. Ysetoil, no Ethan's head rolled through the air.
A wisp of green smoke escape from the corpse. It was nearly immaterial, the soul essence of a eater but such a thing was beyond my ability to destroy. Even the blade couldn't touch a soul. Such things were the pillars of gods and creation. None save angels and demons could hope to erase them.
I wished it wasn't true as I so desperately wanted to strike that being from all of existence.
It wouldn't bring back the dead. It wouldn't correct the mistake of me putting Ethan and Jessica into the hands of this madman, but at least Ethan might now be free.
“A good as death as any,” Harold said from the sidelines, apparently reliving his attack for a moment.
“A thing like that doesn't deserve a clean death,” I replied as I tried my best to block out the pain and focus on my newest foe.
“The eater? Oh dear, I was speaking of the man himself,” Harold shook his head, “Such a tragic mortal. Sold his body to provide a life for his love. A shame that all things have a hidden price. The eater collected his.”
The arrogant tone of his voice caused me to stop listening. Hate was a powerful thing, far more powerful than love. It allowed one to focus through hell itself. Even if every bone was broken I'd drag this man into perdition with me.
“A hidden price?” I let out a laugh. Terribly tired but cruel with intent, “You would know. You who serve a demon in his quest for power. Did you not think of your price? Be assured that I will collect it from your flesh.”
“Do not disappoint,” he said with a smile, “The master is watching.”
Chapter Twenty Two
Harold still had his ward up and I doubted I'd be able to pound my way through it with raw force. No, I needed to use my blade and break the barrier and then unleash everything I had. It wouldn't be much. I'd already tasted attrition twice today, but it would have to do.
With staff and sword I began my charge. It was good forty feet of open ground between the two of us. Through the waning light of Gerald's flare spell, I could see the rubble on the ground. Harold's miniature earthquake had made a patch of uneven earth between myself and him. I did my best not to twist an ankle as I advanced. It became harder with each passing moment as the flare spell was reaching lower and lower into the ground, threatening to cast a shadow over everything.
Harold was taking me seriously now. He flicked his wand, two quick motions that tore apart nearby earth and sent boulders flying at me – each of them was the size of small car. Their descent was lazily aimed in my direction as though fired from a catapult.
&
nbsp; My ward was already battered, I didn't like my chances of just taking the blow. It would hold, but also sap strength from my body and mind. A third dose of attrition would be damning in a fight like this. I dived aside.
The boulders came down with a noise that echoed through the cavernous depths. I was pelted by a number of small earthen shard but my ward brushed them off without much effort.
Scrambling back onto my feet, I continued to charge forward while channeling energy into my staff – summoning every bit of arcane power that inhabited my being, focusing it into the tip. It began to glow a light blue, the magic became manifest.
I would only have one chance. After this, I'd be burnt out.
“Why do you fight?” Harold said haughtily while tossing more boulders at me, “Do you honestly think you will be victorious? I've been training in the arts for centuries, I've glimpsed the black scrolls of the master's library. What can you do, conjure some ice? A child's trick.”
“The eater thought like you,” I shouted between narrowly jumping aside a rolling piece of rock, “Look where he is now.”
A deep laughter came from Harold, “Such spirits are simple creatures. I am a wielder of creation, chosen to bring down the false shepard and his flock!”
My breath was heavy, I didn't reply. Not like I'd get anything useful out a madman like him. Anyone who served a demon of his own will was long beyond redemption and sanity. Twist what they say, speak not the truth.
Yet there was a truth to his words. Harold was powerful and clearly had been training for far longer than myself. He was tossing around large masses as though they were pebbles in his hand. I began to wonder if perhaps it would have been smarter to just hide and wait for the flare to fade. In the darkness I might be able get lucky, score a shot while he was unaware.
I decided against that course. It might be smarter for the short term, but not safer. The soulwells were tied to the summoner, Natasha had said as much. Each moment Harold was alive was another chance for something nasty to crawl out of the abyss. I didn't have time to wait.
