The Demon Hunt

by Kris Greene

  “If you’ve got any reservations, now is the time to voice them,” she told him.

  “We’ve come too far to turn back now, De Mona. Let’s do it.” He extended his hand.

  De Mona shrugged. “Who wants to live forever anyway?” She took his hand and together they stepped into the unknown.

  For at least ten minutes Gabriel was speechless. He had read about some truly mythical places but nothing prepared him for the view he beheld from what Gilchrest called the Black Hills. The night sky was a lovely shade of lavender with twin blush-colored moons illuminating the valley directly below them, which was decorated with dozens of tiny lights from the shops that were still open for business.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s beautiful,” Gabriel said in awe.

  “Do not be fooled, human. The cities of Midland all filled with danger, but none more than where we go, the Iron Mountains.” Gilchrest pointed to the east. Looming in the distance were massive mist-capped mountains that loomed over the villages like a shadow of death. Lightning crashed somewhere in the distance and De Mona visibly trembled. “Lost your heart for the fight, have you, demon?”

  “I’ll show you just how much heart I have when we reach the Iron Mountains,” she assured him. “Now lead the way.”

  “Anxious to meet death you are, and more anxious I am to make the introduction, but not yet,” Gilchrest told her.

  “What do you mean not yet?” Gabriel snatched Gilchrest up by the collar. “We came to rescue my grandfather from the Iron Mountains and you’re going to take us there!” Gabriel’s hands crackled with power and threatened to incinerate the little goblin.

  “If you kill me then you’ll never get into mountains,” Gilchrest said, shying away from the sparks. Gabriel hesitated, but eventually dropped the goblin back to the ground. “Wise choice. Enter the mountains we will, but make a stop in the market first we must.”

  “Dude, we didn’t come down here to shop,” De Mona told him.

  “Stupid topsider, never make it through Midland without detection in human rags.” He pointed at their clothes.

  Gabriel looked from his worn sweatshirt to De Mona’s dirty jeans. “He does have a point. I guess we’re going to the market.”

  “Hold on.” De Mona sized the goblin up. “Why do you care if we’re spotted or not? If anything I’d have thought you’d be banking on someone ratting us out to the goblins so you can get away from us.”

  Gilchrest laughed at the statement. “My freedom come soon enough, demon. Need you to get into Iron Mountains so that my brother, Orden, will have the honor of taking your life, not goblin soldiers. Now come.” Gilchrest started down the hills toward the village.

  “Now that’s reassuring,” De Mona said, before following Gilchrest.

  Gabriel lingered behind for a while, staring at the Iron Mountains off in the distance and thinking of his grandfather and what he must be going through in the goblin dungeons. To say that he wasn’t afraid of what lay ahead of him would have been a lie, but Gabriel had come to a point where it was time to lock his fear away in a box with no key. The dark forces had already stolen his parents and he refused to lose the only person left in the world who loved him. If it was a war Titus wanted, Gabriel would give him one that would be remembered for all time.

  My will be done? the Bishop whispered softly. There was a pleading note in his tone this time.

  Gabriel took one last look at the Iron Mountains and closed his fist tightly. “Yes, it will.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Lucy could not hide the horror on her face when she saw what the goblins had done to the dwarfs of Cristobel’s village. The streets were littered with bodies that had been either burned or gutted. Birdlike creatures sat perched on rooftops, occasionally swooping down to peck at the flesh of one of the victims. In the shadows of a doorway two dogs fought over the remains of a small boy who had been speared through the heart. It was the worst massacre she had ever seen.

  “Cassy!” Cristobel shouted, checking bodies and the wreckage of the buildings.

  “Cristobel, if you don’t stop yelling you’ll attract the goblins, or whatever the hell else is skulking around here,” Lucy warned him. The birds must have smelled her blood because they had inched closer. Lucy tossed a ball of magic at the birds, scattering them, but within seconds they were back to stalking her. “Can we get out of here?”

  “No, I must find my sister. Cassy!” he shouted.

  “Cristobel?” a small voice called from a doorway down the street. From it stepped a female dwarf with blond hair and clear blue eyes. When she saw her brother she ran to him and they shared a tight hug.

  “Thank goodness, I thought they had gotten you too.” He checked her for injuries, but thankfully she was unharmed. “What happened?”

  She looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. “It was the goblins. They accused us of harboring enemies of the empire and demanded that we give them up. When we told them that we knew nothing about it they began the slaughter.” She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the memories. “Cristobel, they said that you caused this by killing one of Orden’s men and helping the topsiders escape.”

  “I’m afraid I’m to blame for that.” Lucy stepped forward. She tried to muster a smile but couldn’t quite manage. Her skin had gone pale and she was now sweating heavily.

  “Who are you?” Cassy eyed Lucy suspiciously.

  “She is a friend. She saved me and killed one of the goblins in the dungeon,” Cristobel told his sister.

  “Good riddance.” Cassy spat on the ground. “I hate them for what they have done to us, brother. I wish she’d killed them all instead of just one.”

  “Cassy, do not say such things. Your heart is too pure to be tainted by hate. Are there any more survivors?” Cristobel asked.

  “Yes, some of us managed to escape the raid and make it to the tunnels beneath the temple.”

  “Good. We should get under cover too. The goblins will surely be back. The temple is this way.” Cristobel motioned for Lucy to follow.

  “You’ll get no arguments from me.” Lucy took a step, then staggered.

  “Are you okay?” Cristobel asked with a concerned look on his face.

  “Yeah, I’m just not feeling too hot. Damned thorns,” she said before passing out in his arms.

  “Is she okay?” Cassy asked, peering down at Lucy. The witch’s eyes were now rolling into her head.

  “I don’t know.” Cristobel knelt beside her. He touched her forehead and she was burning with fever. Frantically he checked Lucy’s body for signs of a wound. He flipped her over and ran his hands up the length of her legs and back. When he got to her arm his face darkened.

  “What’s wrong, brother?” Cassy asked, now kneeling beside Lucy also.

  “Cassy, give me your dagger.” He extended his hand, and Cassy placed her dagger in it while watching her brother closely. Carefully he sliced the skin on the back of Lucy’s left bicep and pulled off a loose piece. Holding it to the light, he could see the tiny spines sticking out from it. “She must’ve been hit in the battle with the Slovs.”

  “Poison.” Cassy recoiled as if the skin could infect her too.

  “Yes.” Cristobel sat Lucy up and checked her for a pulse. “She’s very weak. We must get her to the healers.”

  “The healers were the first ones to fall under the goblin blades. Most of them are no more, and the few who survive have fled,” Cassy explained.

  “Then you must attend to her, sister.”

  “Me? Cristobel, I’m no healer. Mother taught me a few potions but I’m hardly skilled enough to treat the venom of a Slov.”

  “You must at least try, Cassy. I owe it to her and Redfeather.” He thought back to the old man who had sacrificed himself so that they could escape.

  “Very well,” Cassy finally agreed. “Let’s get her below.”

  Marsha had been on duty for so many hours that she could barely keep her eyes open. She so wanted to del
egate her responsibilities to someone else while she got just a few moments of sleep, but Angelique had demanded that she conducted the tests personally.

  In all her years studying the link between witches and familiars she had never encountered anything like what had come over Tiki. He had fallen into some sort of coma and no spell they had tried was able to bring him out of it. Marsha reasoned that the coma had to have been caused by some traumatic experience his mistress had gone through, but what that experience was remained an unanswered question. Lucy could very well be dead, but if so, why hadn’t her familiar passed on also? It wasn’t unheard of for a witch or familiar to live after the death of her partner, but those instances were one in ten thousand. There had to be an explanation.

  A shriek snapped Marsha out of her daydream. She rushed over to the glass enclosure where Tiki slept and the ferret seemed to be having some sort of seizure. Black blood was oozing from the creature’s mouth and rectum. Marsha managed to stabilize the ferret and collected a sample of his blood to examine under the microscope. What she saw puzzled her.

  “What’s wrong?” the lab tech who had been assigned to assist Marsha asked.

  “Who has had access to this familiar besides you and me?” Marsha asked sharply.

  “No one, ma’am. Why?”

  Marsha looked at the tech seriously. “Because he’s been poisoned.”

  Lucy felt like she had been hit in the back of the head with a small hammer when she finally regained consciousness. She tried to open her eyes, but the light made her feel like needles were being shoved into them. She gave herself a minute to let them adjust and then tried again to open them. Things were blurry at first but she was gradually able to focus on what had looked like shadows shifting about her. Lucy found herself surrounded by six sets of large blue eyes. Startled, she tried to sit up and the room swam.

  “Don’t try to move, child.” The female dwarf pushed her gently back down on the pile of straw she had been resting on. The dwarf had a pleasant face with thin worry lines in the corners of her eyes. Her mousy brown hair hung down around her face in two pigtails.

  “Who . . .” Lucy croaked. Her mouth was as dry as a desert wind and she could feel her lips crack when she moved them.

  “Water, fetch me some water,” the female dwarf ordered. After a few moments a small boy came through the crowd of onlookers carrying a bowl filled with water, which he handed to the female attending Lucy. Gently, she lifted Lucy’s head and poured a little of the water into her mouth. The cool water was so soothing to her dry throat that she tried to gulp it down and ended up choking. “You don’t have to swallow it all in one gulp, child, we have plenty more.”

  “Until the goblins decide to poison our supplies.” This came from a young dwarf who had been standing in the doorway. He had cropped red hair and the first signs of a beard on his chin. From the way he was staring at Lucy it was clear that he was not happy about having the witch as a guest.

  “You mind your manners, Alec,” the female dwarf warned him.

  “Come now, Mavis, I am only speaking the truth. It is because of Cristobel and his friends that the goblins have forced us to live underground like gophers. It is only a matter of time before we are unearthed and they finish what they started. If it were up to me I would give the murderers over to the goblins so that we can be at peace.”

  “Peace?” Cristobel stepped into the room. He was still carrying the bloodstained battle ax. “Living as slaves while the goblins play gods with the lives of our women and children, is that what you call peace, Alec?”

  Alec looked at the ground, shamefaced. “I only meant that helping the strangers can only bring more trouble to us.”

  Mavis twisted her thin lips. “As long as the goblins inhabit these mountains, there will be trouble with them in one form or another. Helping this girl won’t change that for better or worse.”

  “Listen, I’m nobody’s charity case, so I’ll just get out of your way.” Lucy managed to sit up, but no sooner had she she done so than she almost fell on her face. Mavis and Cristobel caught her and laid her back on the haystack.

  “You won’t get very far on those shaky legs,” Mavis told Lucy while dabbing her forehead with a damp cloth. “You pay Alec no mind, child. You are our guest and welcome to stay as long as need be.”

  Numbness ran from the fingertips of Lucy’s left hand to her shoulder. She tried to flex her hand but her fingers did little more than tingle. “What’s wrong with me?” she asked, trying to keep her eyes focused on the swirling faces of the dwarfs.

  “You were hit by some of the Slov’s spines. The poison is trying to kill off the nerves in your arm,” Cristobel explained.

  Lucy turned her head and for the first time noticed the bandage covering her left bicep. “How bad is it, doc?” she asked Mavis in a weak attempt at humor.

  Mavis’s eyes welled up with tears. “Young Cassy did the best she could with the wound and slowed the poison from reaching your heart, but I fear that it’s only a temporary solution. The magic in your blood seems to be feeding the poison. I’ve tried every herb at my disposal, but I’m afraid I just don’t have much to work with down here. Someone will have to brave the journey to the marketplace outside the mountains to fetch the things we need to treat this properly.”

  “Then I will go,” Cristobel said.

  “Please don’t, brother.” Cassy tugged at his arm. “You are already a fugitive and if the goblins find you out there they will surely kill you and I will truly be alone.”

  “Cassy, I must. Had it not been for Lucy and her friend Redfeather I would be dead right now. If it is within my power to help then I will do so. I’ll leave for the market immediately.

  “No,” Lucy wheezed. “I won’t let you put yourself at risk for me.”

  “If your wounds aren’t treated, you will die,” Mavis told her.

  “Then maybe death is better,” Lucy said deliriously. “Yes, just let me sleep so I can see my parents.”

  Mavis pried one of Lucy’s eyes open and checked her pupils. “She’s getting worse.”

  “Then I must hurry,” Cristobel said.

  “Brother, please, there will be goblins at the market. You must rethink this!” Cassy pleaded.

  “Enough, Cassy. Tonight I saw more courage mustered in an old man and girl than I have ever been able to claim in my entire life. Their kindness must be repaid. I will go to the market and get what is needed, goblins be damned! Will any of you come with me?” Cristobel looked around at the dwarfs assembled in the room. Most avoided his gaze but one brave soul stepped up.

  “I am with you,” the dark-haired dwarf pledged.

  A blond dwarf stepped up. “As am I.”

  Cristobel smiled and placed his hands on the shoulders of the dwarfs. “Then let’s gather what we need and set out.”

  “I’ll pray for you, brother,” Cassy told him.

  Cristobel smiled. “Do not pray for me, sister. Pray for the goblins that will loose their heads if they try and stop me.” He retrieved the goblin ax and hoisted it onto his shoulder.

  “Well, if you insist upon going on this mission you at least need a weapon that will give you a better chance then that crudely crafted thing.” Mavis nodded at the ax.

  “This ax served me well against the Slovs in the forest,” Cristobel said defensively.

  “Yes, but these are no scavengers, these are hell’s enforcers.” Mavis walked over to the large anvil in the corner and began to push. “Help me,” she urged. Cristobel helped her move the anvil, revealing a trapdoor hiding under it. Brushing away the dirt and cobwebs, Mavis pulled open the door and hauled out a large sack from the cubbyhole. “If you are going to take goblins’ heads, you will do it with dwarfish blades.” She opened the sack and revealed a beautiful golden ax.

  “It’s stunning.” Cristobel ran his hand over the blades lovingly. “Mavis, where in the name of the gods did you get this?”

  The old maid winked at him. “My family was among th
e finest weapon smiths in all of Midland when we still counted for something. The blade you are holding was crafted by my late husband for my son when he came to manhood. My son died with it in his hand during the goblin wars,” she said emotionally.

  Cristobel touched her shoulder. “I will return it to you, I promise.”

  “And it is a promise I will hold you to, Cristobel. But there is something I would ask of you before you go.”

  “Anything.”

  Mavis cupped his face in her hands and looked at him very seriously. “When you return the blade to me, make sure that it is stained with the blood of our tormentors.”

  “Done,” he agreed. “We’d better be going.”

  Mavis and what was left of the villagers followed them to the mouth of the tunnels. “Travel safely, young warriors, and show no mercy. The goblins will surely have none to show to you.” After seeing Cristobel off, Mavis and Cassy returned to Lucy’s side. She tossed and turned restlessly on the straw, moaning feverishly as the venom racked her system.

  “She doesn’t have much time,” Cassy said, running a cool cloth over Lucy’s face.

  “Then let’s hope our warriors travel with the speed of the gods. Alec, could you fetch me some water,” she called to the bitter young dwarf, but when she turned around to see if he was complying he was nowhere in sight. “Where did that fool boy get off to?”

  Alec was out of breath by the time he crossed the final hill. As soon as he had lain eyes on the witch, he had known she was the source of their troubles. Cristobel had been a fool to rise up against the goblins and help the strangers, and now he had brought their wrath down upon the heads of the entire village.

  Looming in the distance ahead was the stronghold of the goblins. Just seeing the rocky structure filled Alec with such dread that he was worried he would get cold feet and turn around. A thundering sound coming from somewhere beyond the hills to his left drew his attention. Alec hid behind a rock just as three great, hulking, horseless carriages barreled down the road en route to the fort. Through the glass windows of one carriage he could see a human and a demon. Something very important was going on inside the fort.