Demonkin

by T. Eric Bakutis

  “How do we fight those?” Zell glanced at Dynara, then at Aryn. “What are they?”

  “Let's find out.” Aryn grimaced. “Davengers?”

  Aryn's davenger limped forward. Then many more limped after it, dozens of davengers in various states of decay. An army raised in the Dead Bog.

  Aryn pointed at the soldiers marching below, at the golden warriors. “Kill!” he shouted.

  His horde of davengers tore down the slope in a fevered rush of snarls and drool. Davengers that were little more than meat and bone rushed the golden columns, fearless and powered by Mavoureen hate. They were not going to be nearly enough.

  Aryn's fragile davengers tore into the golden soldiers. Their claws and teeth destroyed many but those golden warriors, like Aryn's demons, seemed immune to panic. Their silver blades cut davenger scales and, worse yet, the Alcedi zipped about in battle. Turned into lighting itself.

  Golden soldiers barreled through davengers and trees, blowing demons and trunks apart each time they touched either. Bark splintered and wood flew as trees, demons, and golden soldiers skirmished below.

  His davengers acquitted themselves well despite their desiccated state. It was a gruesome melee, filled with gore and shattered golden men, and when it was over only two golden warriors remained.

  “They're dead men walking!” Dynara shouted. “Let's go show them!”

  She charged down the hill. Zell and Mat threw down their shields and lifted their spears as they followed. All their weapons glowed with green glyphs. Atop a narrow raised pillar of rock, Kara and Tania scribed.

  Aryn took the dream world. “Erius, hit them.”

  “Yes sir,” Erius thought back, and then Aryn was too busy scribing Fingers of Heat to think anything else.

  Fire and ice smashed at the two remaining golden soldiers, but no elemental strike penetrated their armor. Erius's icy spikes shattered and Aryn's flames fizzled out. Dynara and her legionnaires met the soldiers as Aryn called a halt to their glyphs.

  Zell and Mat hurled their spears. Each hurtled through the space that separated them from the enemy and went through a golden soldier. If being impaled bothered the Alcedi, they gave no sign of it.

  Zell unsheathed a broadsword as Mat drew two daggers and Dynara spun in on the enemy, howling. All their weapons glowed bright green. If only Xander had showed Aryn those glyphs before he died.

  Aryn watched, helpless, as three legionnaires with greenish glowing blades fought golden soldiers from beyond their world. One of the enemy exploded, struck in just the right place, as the other turned to lightning and slipped away. Retreating.

  Aryn wanted to cheer. The last Alcedi zapped forward. When it stopped moving, its silver blade jutted from Zell's back.

  Zell gasped as his body turned to salt. Even as Dynara and Mat hacked at the golden soldier, the white wreckage that had once been Zell scattered on the wind.

  Mat cut the soldier’s knees out from under it. As it fell, Dynara screamed and hacked off its head. The soldier twisted as it exploded, brushing Mat’s elbow with the tip of its sword.

  Mat stopped, grimaced, and turned to salt. He exploded. The wind carried him after Zell.

  The Alcedi sword clattered among armored pieces as the lightning warrior ceased to be. Dynara's chest heaved as she stood, glaring at dwindling salt piles. Her friends. Her eyes lit upon the silver sword.

  “Dynara,” Aryn shouted, “don't—”

  She grabbed it by the hilt, not the blade, and lifted it with an agonized roar. She stomped up the hill, carrying the silver sword like it weighed nothing at all. Her trophy from a battle won.

  “If I see those things again,” Dynara shouted, “I'm going to shove this blade right up their—”

  Dynara stopped talking. Her hand and then her arm and then her entire shoulder turned to salt, and it spread across her as Aryn watched in mute horror. Dynara could not seem to drop the blade.

  “Dammit,” she said, “all I did was touch the—”

  She burst apart. The silver sword clattered to the ground. Any contact with those blades killed. That was clear now, far too late to save anyone.

  Aryn's eyes rose to Knoll Point, to more columns of soldiers marching out of it. Hundreds of them. The Alcedi invasion had begun, and Aryn was going to turn to salt before he could tell anyone about it.

  A rumble shook the earth, knocking Aryn to his knees. Hordes of rocks broke from the mountain looming over Knoll Point. They tumbled, smashing trees as the avalanche grew. Someone had cracked that desiccated mountain open, and it was coming down with the fury of Land himself.

  Kara. And Tania.

  As Aryn stared, the mountain above Knoll Point buried the town in boulders and dirt. The golden light sputtered, flared, and vanished. Their world went eerily silent as no one cheered. No one spoke.

  This end had come too late for First Sword Dynara Keris and her brave legionnaires.

  KARA OPENED HER EYES TO FIND FIELDS of rippling grass stalks surrounding her, and for a moment, her heart seized. Her mind fled. This was the world of the Alcedi, a world of sun-drenched terror.

  This was not that world. It was the Valerun in late afternoon. Her mother sat beside her, not moving, and that meant the Alcedi had not come after them. They had survived, somehow, when so many others had died.

  Kara wanted nothing more than to scream at the sky, tear out her hair and lose herself in sobbing, but what she wanted no longer mattered to anyone. The Alcedi were beyond any power her people had ever faced, and she had unleashed them on her world.

  She could not die until she put that right.

  “Kara?” Ona stroked Kara’s hair. “Are you all right?”

  “No.” Kara would not lie to her mother. “I killed Xander. I killed everyone.”

  “Nonsense.”

  “I did this, Mom. In the Underside, Paymon came to negotiate with me. He tried to talk and instead, I destroyed everything he loved. His Great Home. I defied and insulted him, and this was his revenge.”

  “You did nothing wrong! Don't let that monster deceive you.”

  Kara looked around at the world she had destroyed. Aryn and Tania sat beside a small campfire, along with a Tellvan mage in blue robes, but there was no one else with them. No Xander, no Byn, no Sera. No Trell.

  “You can't blame yourself for Paymon’s atrocities,” Ona said. “He's responsible for Knoll Point.”

  “I helped Sera make that blood doll.” Kara stared at her mother. “Remember? It led you into a trap.”

  Ona blinked at her. “You made—”

  “You followed that doll to the Dead Bog, didn't you? That's where Xander ... where my father died. Because of me. Because of what I did to throw you off my trail.”

  Ona set her jaw. “No.”

  “I murdered Jyllith too,” Kara whispered. “She was there to stop the Alcedi and close that portal. She told me, and I ignored her. I put a spike of rock,” and Kara tapped her chest, “right through her heart.”

  “Enough!” Ona pushed them apart. “You ended that threat when you collapsed that mountain! It's over! As for your father—”

  “Ended it?” Kara shouted. “Mom, the Alcedi are digging their way out right now! Three brave legionnaires died so we could inconvenience them!”

  Rock and rubble were nothing to the Alcedi. Their invasion had begun and Kara had murdered the only woman capable of stopping it. Collapsing Knoll Point had bought them time, but how much? Two weeks? Three?

  “You aren't responsible for what happened back there!” Ona shouted, but her body trembled. She had lost everything too, lost Kara's father, and that hurt her worse than any disease.

  Kara looked away from her mother. The Valerun was a long way from Knoll Point. Had they carried her all this way?

  None of that mattered. What mattered was the Alcedi, their invasion, an unstoppable army that would come for her world sooner rather than later. Kara had slept through the end of the world, but she still had time to stop it. She still had time to
try. What else could she do now?

  Kara clung to Trell's last words. There was a glyph in Terras. It bound the Five and if she removed it, their champions would regain their power.

  She remained one of the only people still alive who could walk beneath Torn's spectral storms. She had Melyssa’s blessing. Trell had told her to live — for him — and she would live no matter how much her life hurt.

  She would not fail her world again.

  “Mom.” Kara stood and stared at her trembling mother. “I'm so sorry I yelled at you. I'm sorry about everything.”

  Ona stood as well. “Come with us. King Haven—”

  “Can't do anything. He's as helpless as everyone was back there. No mortal army can stand against those monsters. Only the Mavoureen could, and I'm fairly certain they won't help us anymore.”

  “So what do you plan to do about it?” Ona stomped and glared. “Stop that golden army by yourself?”

  “I'm going to Terras.”

  “You're not going anywhere without me!”

  “I have to.” Ona would die like everyone else if Kara did not fight, and that death would come sooner rather than later if her mother stepped beneath Torn's spectral storms. “You have to warn King Haven. Return to Tarna with Aryn and Tania. Prepare our defenses.”

  “Warn him yourself!”

  “We know we can kill these soldiers with glyphed blades, but elemental glyphs don't seem to hurt them.” Kara grieved for Dynara. “We can't touch their weapons either, so make sure everyone knows. Not even the hilts.”

  Tania rose from the campfire and led Aryn over, clutching his hand in hers. So that was the way of it. Kara almost felt happy for Aryn. Yet it was hard to be happy about anything right now.

  “Ona, listen.” Tania gently touched Ona's arm. “I think Kara's right.”

  “Thank you,” Kara said.

  “Don't thank me yet,” Tania said. “You're the one who volunteered to march into a death storm.”

  Aryn stepped forward. “Do you need me?”

  Kara sniffled. Their relationship had changed so much from Solyr. She now knew Aryn Locke as the man he always had been, a brave and loyal friend. She still had one friend left. If Tania spoke truth, maybe even two.

  “I'm going alone.” Kara locked eyes with Ona. “You must go with them, Mom. Please. Once I muss the glyph at Terras and return the power of Heat, Aryn may be the only mage powerful enough to stop the Alcedi.”

  Aryn glanced down at his charred hands. “The power of the Five remains inside us?”

  “Trell said so,” Kara said. “I believe him.” She also missed him more than she could put into words.

  “I'll handle it.” Aryn glanced at Tania. “We’ll protect your mother, get her safely back to Tarna, and warn King Haven.”

  “I don’t need protection.” Ona crossed her arms, tapped her foot, and grimaced. Kara prepared more counterarguments.

  “Go,” Ona said. “Five know I can't stop you. You're as stubborn as your father always was.” She trembled anew. “Just be careful. Be safe. I can’t lose you too.”

  Kara threw her arms around her mother. She let herself cry and Ona held her close. She clutched Ona and stopped thinking about being strong, about moving forward, about living without those she loved, and let her mother comfort her as she had when Kara was little. She let her mother be strong for her, reminded herself just how strong Ona really was.

  All too soon, it was time for Kara to leave. She could mourn later, on the road. Every moment was so precious now.

  Kara pushed back and dried her tears. “I'll meet you at Tarna as soon as I've freed the Five. I promise you that.” Kara imagined her father — her real father, grinning as he taught her how to fix Ona's disease — and knew Xander Honuron would want her to keep fighting. “Be ready.”

  Tania saluted. Ona stepped back and Kara looked to the horses. She spotted the one she wanted.

  “That's Storm,” Aryn said, pointing to a big brown gelding with a thick mane, saddlebags, and a canteen hanging off its saddle. “He's a good horse.”

  “I'm sure he is.” Kara walked to the pale white mare snorting softly behind Storm and reached out. That brave mare nuzzled her hand.

  Against all odds, Chesa had risked death once again. For her. Kara remembered all the horses they had lost on the way to Tarna, all Chesa's friends. Everyone Chesa loved was gone now.

  Kara pulled herself into Chesa's saddle. They were survivors and they would survive, together. They would ride and they would hunt and they would sleep, and that was how the two of them would live until they reached Terras. Kara tapped her heels and made herself not look back.

  They rode through the grasslands of the Valerun, and they rode through the scrublands below Highridge Pass, and they rode toward roiling rainbow storms. Kara remembered Trell's arms around her, Xander's hand gripping her shoulders, laughing with Sera and climbing trees with Byn.

  She would never do those things again. Kara rode alone against an army of divine monsters, but she had Torn's blood. His power. She would fight for those who lived and mourn those who died. She would hurt, always, but she could not cease to feel if she was to defeat the Alcedi. Feeling was what made her different from these demons.

  Jyllith had known how to close the Alcedi gate and while Kara had murdered her, Jyllith wasn't out of reach. Not if Kara followed the path left by Jair Deymartin. A good friend who died to free her from the Underside.

  Kara needed Jyllith's council. She needed Trell's, and Halde's, and Xander's. She needed to talk to Torn.

  She needed to learn the glyphs of a Soulmage.

  THE END

  Acknowledgements

  Again, the book owes its completion and publication to the generous donations of time and advice from a great many people.

  To Juli Mandala, my longtime friend, former critique partner, and absolutely awesome editor — thank you for your stellar job at slicing through all words that don’t belong, calling out all my obvious mistakes and some not so obvious ones, and trimming this book down to a healthy size. Our minds follow similar devious paths and your edits were crucial.

  To Bill Benners and Eryn Kawecki at McBryde Publishing — thank you for setting me down the road to publication, and for providing so much wonderful advice. This book is better because of your input and you have consistently pushed me to improve as a writer. I hope I have.

  To all of my advance readers, some of whom I’ve met at conventions and some of whom I’ve met only on the Internet — thank you for having the patience to slog through my earlier draft, and for providing so many intelligent and well-reasoned comments that vastly improved this book. If you’ve just re-read and recall the rough edges of the draft you read more than a year ago, I hope you’ve seen improvements.

  To all those brave readers and reviewers who waded into the world of independent publishing to review Glyphbinder and now (I hope) Demonkin, thank you for taking a chance on an unproven author. Your support keeps me writing, as do your recommendations to friends. I strive to improve every day so if you’ve got feedback, I’d love to hear it!

  Finally, to my wonderful wife Vanessa, thank you for making each day brighter. And to my lovely new daughter, Emma (who is still too young to read this), I hope one day you can enjoy this book as well.

  When you’re old enough.

  About the Author

  T. Eric Bakutis is an author and game designer living in Maryland. He is happily married and shares his house with a vicious, predatory cat and a sad-faced, cowardly dog. He’s been working as a professional game developer for over seven years, and writing novels on the side.

  In his limited spare time, Eric hikes with his lovely wife and crazy dog, plays any video games he can sneak in between writing sessions, and participates in local events like the Baltimore Science Fiction Society’s Critique Circle. His short fiction has been published in several magazines and anthologies, and he is constantly writing and tweaking new stories.

  He blogs abou
t writing, videogames, and virtual reality on Wordpress, shares remixed videogame music and other anecdotes on Twitter, and prowls the forums of Fantasy-Faction. You can find links to his other books at his professional website, www.tebakutis.com.

  About the Editor

  Julia S. Mandala (www.juliasmandala.com) holds degrees in history and law, and is a freelance editor, scuba diver and belly dancer. She edited The Anthology From Hell: Humorous Tales from WAY Down Under and High Plains Moon, as well as acting as a copy editor for Yard Dog Press.

  Her novels, Villains in Training, (with Linda L. Donahue), The Four Redheads: Apocalypse Now!, Redheads in Love (with Linda L. Donahue, Rhonda Eudaly and Dusty Rainbolt) and House of Doors are available from Yard Dog Press. Her works appear in Chicks and Balances, Witch Way to the Mall and Fangs for the Mammaries (Baen), and in The Mammoth Book of Comic Fantasy II, The Four Redheads of the Apocalypse, Dracula's Lawyer and small press anthologies.

  Coming Soon

  If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a short review on Amazon, Goodreads, or the site of your choice. Every review helps make an author’s books more visible, and encourages others to take a chance on them as well. Even a star rating and a sentence of your thoughts is very much appreciated.

  Kara, Jyllith, and Sera’s fight for the Five Provinces will conclude in early 2017 in Bloodmender, the final volume of this trilogy. Five guard your soul.