Lady of Poison p-1

by Bruce R Cordell

  The ice demon made to sidestep the sudden obstacle, but the newcomer, exploiting the demon’s lack of response, jumped onto the icy creature’s back with an ear-piercing howl of glee.

  Answering howls rose from further back in the darkened hallway. The howls swiftly drew nearer. “Here we go,” sighed Elowen.

  The hunter unsheathed her gift from the Nentyarch. A glimmer of emerald vigor played at its edges. Marrec heard Ususi begin chanting. Gunggari already had his dizheri in hand ready for anything.

  Their guide twisted mightily, trying to throw the horned attacker from its back, but the horned monster’s claws found crevices in the ice, sinking in like pitons. The two began to tumble back and forth, grappling like miniature titans.

  A group of smaller but similarly horned creatures broke into the light, some running on all fours, others sprinting on two legs. All were misshapen and horned. All were monstrous. None were of a type of creature Marrec had ever encountered or even heard described. Demons? He counted six, including the grappler.

  Ususi ceased speaking and thrust one hand forward. A hail of sharp ice followed after, materializing at the behest of the wizard’s incantation. The storm of ice, composed of razor-sharp crystals so thick that they momentarily obscured vision, pelted the faces and bodies of the advancing creatures, including their guide. The temperature in the hallway fell several degrees in the aftermath of the potent spell. Their adversaries screeched their displeasure and pain.

  Marrec, Gunggari, and Elowen ran forward on the tail end of the blizzard. The ice had bowled over the creatures, leaving welts and oozing wounds, but all remained breathing. They began to scramble to their feet with unholy vigor.

  Marrec didn’t wait. He hurled Justlance directly into the gut of one creature. It squealed, slumping. Greenish fluid poured from the wound.

  Gunggari and Elowen ducked past their chaperone demon and its attacker. The ice demon and the horned attacker had become a blur of flashing arms and legs, claws and teeth, tusks and spikes. Normally such an exhibition would draw Marrec’s eye, but not then.

  With a clatter of claws and hooves, the remaining four attackers surged forward.

  Elowen engaged the foremost, Dymondheart pulsing in her grip like the live thing it was. Her foe was dismayed by the flashing green blade; a roundhouse slash to its neck lopped off the creature’s head before it could lay a single claw upon her.

  At her side, Gunggari wielded his war club, facing off against two of the monsters simultaneously. His grip on the length of his dizheri was fluid and shifting, allowing him to attack with one hand then the other, sometimes poking, other times spinning and bashing with the full force of his extended arm and weapon length.

  Marrec ran forward, screaming Lurue’s name as a battle cry. Justlance returned to him while he ran, and he used it to stab one of the creatures facing Gunggari. It pawed at him but continued to devil the Oslander.

  “What are these things?” yelled Marrec.

  Elowen ducked a clawed-tipped swipe of the last attacker and yelled, “Ogres, maybecrossbred with something nastier.”

  The light shed from Justlance pierced the darkness further, revealing two more of the “ogres.” Slinking up quietly, they roared as the light touched them and charged. Marrec snagged one with his spear. The other flashed past.

  He backpedaled, keeping the one he’d distracted busy with Justlance’s tip. Ususi was a powerful wizard but fragile if undefended. Glancing back, he saw the wizard trace a pattern in the air before shooting her assailant through with sizzling bolts of fire. The monstrosity fell, but its violent momentum tumbled the bleeding, smoking body to within a foot of Ususi.

  The two on Gunggari were working together, attempting to distract the tattooed warrior so that the other could attempt a killing blow. Before Marrec could assist, Elowen lunged sidewise with Dymondheart, which strobed green for the tiniest moment. Where the blade brushed one of Gunggari’s attackers, the monster’s hide erupted in green flame. Screaming, the creature ran back the way it had come, beating at its side. A heart beat later, the Oslander dropped the other creature with a resounding blow from his war club.

  Only three creatures remained, one on Marrec, one on Elowen, and the first and the largest still grappling with their chaperone demon. The horned ogre seemed to be getting the best of the fight. It was tearing away icy chunks, burrowing like a rodent in loose earth.

  The Oslander called out his cry to battle as he turned and attempted to strike the horned ogre from the rear. Before Gunggari’s cry was fully formed, a clawed foot pis-toned backward directly into Gunggari’s neck. The man’s cry choked off, and he was down, unmoving.

  Marrec could do nothing; his attacker was trying to get past his whirling spear with its claw-tipped arms flailing. He considered using his talent, then paused, horrified that that particular thought would come so easily. His opponent nearly knocked Marrec to the floor in the cleric’s distraction.

  Yet another swarm of fiery strands erupted from Ususi’s fingers, striking Marrec’s adversary before it could finish off the human who stumbled before it. Scratch one more horned ogre, thought Marrec, scrambling to his feet.

  “Thanks, Ususi.”

  “I don’t like debts outstanding,” replied the wizard.

  Glancing to his left, Marrec decided that Elowen had her foe on the ropes. He dashed to Gunggari’s side and bent to check on himstill breathing but very hurt. Marrec studied the battle, wondering if he should pull Gunggari away from the flailing demon and horned ogre or help their chaperone. It wouldn’t bother him too much if their chaperone were slain. It was a demon after all…

  Elowen finally pierced the defense of her foe. It dropped, gushing something other than blood onto the floor of the debris-strewn hallway.

  Marrec decided to let queen’s envoy and the attacking monster fight without interference. He grabbed Gunggari’s satchel off the Oslander’s belt, the one the Nentyarch had provided. Rummaging through it, he was surprised to note four vials, each labeled with a nameMarrec, Gunggari, Elowen, and Ususi. Strange. He’d have to ask Gunggari about that later. A moment later his hand found a potent elixir of healing, as he’d guessed he would.

  Back before Lurue’s presence had faded from his day to day life, he had been able to brew similar miracles in a vial. Someday, he vowed, he’d regain that connection, but all he could do then was pour the pale blue contents down Gunggari’s throat. A convulsive wave suffused the unconscious man’s body, visibly closing wounds as the flush of health passed over his skin. Gunggari woke, coughed, blinked, and was on his feet only a second later. It wasn’t the first time he’d been revived by magical resuscitation at Marrec’s hands.

  In a sudden turn-around, the ice demon finally managed to grasp its adversary’s head between both of its front claws, something it had been trying to do the whole time. With the sound of crunching bone, the attacking creature’s head was crushed in an instant. The horned ogre joined its brethren on the floor. The ice demon rose slowly, chipped and less bulky than before but triumphant. It tittered. The sound prickled Marrec’s spine.

  It was then a brutish, hollow voice echoed from the darkness. It said, “Lackey of she who is frozen in darkness: be still!”

  Their chaperone demon staggered as if struck, then stood unmoving, frozen indeed, its icy body no longer animate.

  “Who said that?” queried Ususi.

  Marrec peered ahead, trying to ascertain the same thing. He thrust his spear tip forward, trying to will more light down the hallway.

  Into the light came a shape. It was similar in form to the horned ogres they’d faced, but it was far larger and more sinister. A crown of horns protruded from its head like barbs. They glowed with a light Marrec knew instinctively was hellish. Marrec’s face prickled with the evil that pulsed away from the thing with steady beats, like a heartbeat ringing up from the depths.

  It spoke again, “The queen learns from her earlier forays. She finally has the wit to send those other than
creatures I can command at my least whim. Still, it won’t avail her.”

  It ceased to speak, and took no other action but to stare a challenge at them. That seemed a potent enough threat to Marrec.

  The cleric moved a step closer to the newcomer and addressed it, “We have no quarrel with you. Let us pass.”

  The monstrosity responded. “I disagree. I think you do have a quarrel with me, though you may not possess acumen enough to know it. You’re traveling with one of the queen’s children. I presume you are on the errand she has set them on so many previous occasions.”

  “What’s that to you, creature?”

  “If you are foolish enough to address me, mortal,” said the creature, “You will address me by my proper title, or I’ll sew your skin to my trophy tapestry out of turn. I am called Eschar.”

  Marrec repeated, “Why do you care if we travelers do the bidding of the Queen Abiding, Eschar?”

  “Because,” growled Eschar, “it is my task to guard the approach to the Sighing Vault. This tunnel that you transgress has only one destination. I’ll grant you one guess where that is.”

  Marrec could guess easily, but he tried to stretch out the conversation further. “Your task? You mean, you’re bound here, same as the Queen Abiding, by some long-dead Nar sorcerer’s magic?”

  Eschar said nothing, but the luminosity of his crown of horns doubled. Marrec had to squint to look at the creature.

  Even had he an unfettered connection with Lurue, Marrec doubted he would have had strength enough to pray for a spell to banish demons directly out of the world, but he was familiar with the task. That possibility was out of the question. He knew that simply slaying the creature would accomplish the same task, if he could but manage it, but Marrec tried one more tack.

  Marrec said, “Surely you have had time enough since your binding to find a way to subvert the intent of your original task. Let us through Perhaps this last lapse will break the age-long binding that holds you here.”

  The demon laughed then said, “You are full of assumptions, human. As a matter of fact, I quite like it here. I am not bound quite so tightly as most of my brethren, and may even walk freely for a time in the world above. That is how I gained the Queen Abiding’s token of control when the newcomer above at Dun Tharos’s center foolishly lost it.

  “And,” added the creature, shining with red delight, “It’s been far too long since I’ve been able to slake my thirst. I think I’ll rather enjoy sucking the meat of each of your bones. I’ll mount your skins in the Vault with the others.”

  Gunggari, freshly healed, was following the conversation closely. When the crowned demon lunged forward as he screeched the last portion of his speech, Gunggari was ready with his dizheri. The Oslander sounded a great, reverberating tone from his instrument of combat. The sound crashed forth, almost visible in the red-lit tunnel, its racing wave-front impacting the charging demon before the creature moved more than ten feet. Marrec had seen that same trick lay out lesser creatures for full minutes. It was sufficient to cause Eschar to pause, growling.

  “Gunny, Elowen, Ususi, take him out!” yelled Marrec.

  He would have continued with more explicit directions, but the demon was suddenly next to him, somehow standing over the cleric without having moved physically through the intervening distance. Eschar tried to bite him, but Marrec blocked just in time with Justlance.

  Another bite, two feints, and a head-butt nested with cruel hornsthe cleric fell back with each attack, keeping Justlance between himself and the demon. He couldn’t afford to return an attack. The creature was too powerful, too strong. If Marrec opened up his defenses with an attack of his own, he didn’t doubt Eschar would instantly expose Marrec’s innards in a way sure to upset his friends. A few more seconds, and Ususi was sure to blast the creature…

  A foot, dagger-clawed, streaked past his spinning spear. The kick lifted him and sent him rolling back tens of feet. The hard ground cudgeled him as he tumbled along the tunnel, his hands momentarily empty of the comforting haft of Justlance. Shadows narrowed his vision as his momentum was finally absorbed by the floor.

  Justlance returned to his grip. The spear’s return reminded him of the reason for the pain. He gasped and tried to sit, using Justlance as a prop. Any additional effort was beyond Marrec’s power. Even his secret talent seemed distant and unavailable as he sought for any weapon to throw against the demon. He could only watch.

  CHAPTER 20

  Gunggari was done with using his dizheri as an instrument; he gripped his weapon in both tattooed hands and swung with a vengeance. The blows did little to slow Eschar’s fury.

  The elf hunter waded in, ready to try Dymondheart against a foe mightier than any she had before faced. As she closed on the demon, a light like the sun illuminated her and her blade, as if the daylight above had decided to ignore the intervening forest and rocky floor.

  The demon flinched, focusing all its attention on Elowen, and snarled, “You have a potent weapon. I think FU kill you before you figure out how to really use it.”

  A clawed hand flashed out, as if to pluck the blade from Elowen’s grasp, but she fell back, dragging the length of Dymondheart across Eschar’s extended forearm. Where the blade touched, the skin peeled back, revealing an inky blackness. Eschar howled.

  With its unflayed arm, the demon formed a great fist and pivoting its entire body, delivering a stunning hook to the side of Elowen’s head. The light surrounding Elowen flared up, became for an instant blinding, then faded to nothingness. Elowen, Eschar, and Gunggari stood for a moment, blinking, in the sudden return to near darkness natural to the tunnel. Of them all, Elowen was most surprised by her continued upright posture; by all rights, she should be splattered across the tunnel wall.

  Eschar growled, said, “Already learned a few things, eh? Not enough!”

  It lunged again, completely ignoring Gunggari, whose efforts were becoming frenzied. Elowen brought up Dymondheart; it seemed strangely dull and heavy. No light played along its length. Whatever it had just done to save Elowen from the demon’s first blow had exhausted the blade’s elan.

  Eschar didn’t at first recognize Dymondheart’s lowered vitality, and despite his tough words, he seemed oddly tentative for such a hulking atrocity. The demon threw just a few quick, probing attacks that Elowen managed to deflect aleng the length of her disturbingly heavy blade.

  Eschar’s single-minded attention on the elf hunter finally paid off for Gunggari. The tattooed warrior wound up then swung, putting all the weight of his body behind the blow. The edge of his dizheri connected squarely under Eschar’s jaw with a sound that could only herald breaking bone. Eschar’s scream was high and piercing.

  Ususi finally made her presence known, too. She had studied the fight, trying to gauge which of her powers might be most effective. Not completely unschooled in the ways of demons, the wizard knew that evils as obviously potent as Eschar were often resistant to magical attack. What would blast a mortal foe into a stain of blood and splintered bone might wash off a demon of Eschar’s caliber like rain.

  She could change the environment itself with her craft, which was something even powerful demons had to contend with.

  Ususi drew the Wand of Citrine Force, drawing a glowing yellow symbol in the air. As she “inked” the last stroke of the symbol, it pulsed once then sped unerringly at Eschar. At the last second Eschar looked up, his eyes widening, but the symbol was upon him. Moments before touching the demon’s flesh, the symbol flashed into a thick, billowing puff of icy vapor. The demon tried to backpedal, but the vapor enveloped him completely. An instant later, the vapor froze solid, creating a disquieting, asymmetrical block of yellow ice in which Eschar was caught like a fly in amber.

  The Queen Abiding wasn’t the only demon bound by cold below Dun Tharos.

  CHAPTER 21

  Later, after Gunggari returned Marrec’s earlier healing by way of his Nentyarch-given satchel, Marrec approached the block of ice.

&n
bsp; “Where’d Eschar go?” he asked, his stomach tightening.

  Everyone rushed over to look into the ice. A hollow space cratered the center of the ice, but the exterior of the block was unbroken. Eschar was no longer caught.

  Ususi said, “He is a powerful demon. I could not bind him spiritually, only physically. He has the power to move himself from place to place; he said the same thing earlier.”

  Elowen groaned. She said, “Does this mean we’re going to have to face that abyssal bastard again?”

  Ususi responded, “If he continues to guard the Sighing Vault, then yes. Eschar yet bars our way.”

  Fallon worried. Doubt gnawed at him like a vicious rodent, turning his stomach sour. All his dreams of power, conquest, and comeuppance paid to his fellows in Yeshelmaar had become pale things, the goals a child might hold dear, not a man. As he tramped on through the maze of ancient summoning stones, senseless traps, and chambers whose purpose he could not divine, the darkness whispered only one thing to him. The message was bleak: Fallon was a minor, expendable little player in a drama that had little use for him once his part was played.

  The pain of the Rotting Man’s touch also continued to plague him, making all his thoughts slow and captious.

  It hadn’t been that way while he was under Anammelech’s wing. The blightlord had nurtured Fallon’s tiny imaginings, coaxing petty daydreams into an all-out betrayal. For some reason, Fallon had believed that the promised rewards would make it all worth while. That shroud of comforting belief had been stripped from his eyes by his contact with the Talontyr.

  Fallon was no fool. At least, he didn’t like to think so. Perhaps Anammelech had just as little use for him, but fed Fallon’s ego merely to bring him more fully into the camp of Dun Tharos. The coin the blightlord paid the elf for his reports of the doings in the Nentyarch’s court was also head-turning.

  It all had come to this. He had a date with a servitor of an evil goddess. He wondered how he could have ever been such a fool.