The Twisted Gate

by Matt Glicksman

  "Forget the chains! Spike what you can!"

  Instructions were flying in from different directions. Millan wasn't even sure who was giving them. He made a throwing motion with his free hand. "Blessing of the Lumenail!"

  The spike of light struck the demon with the mohawk in the shoulder, and Millan jerked back the chains as hard as he could. The iymed stumbled forward and flung himself at the young priest. The collision knocked Millan onto his back, and his spells vanished. He scurried to his feet to guard himself against the next attack, but the iymed with the unholy chains had already scampered off.

  Millan continued to cast his lumenails at any enemy within range. As he spun around to spike a fray streaking past him, the young priest spotted Prima Mashira. The gleaming white robe and red scarf stood out like a beacon in the battle. And like moths to an open flame, fray and iymed alike seemed to be drawn to the powerful priestess. Those that didn't suffer at the hands of her blessings met their demise at the end of Lady Sundancer's sickles. The Prima and the bloodseeker moved seamlessly between enemies, disposing of the creatures left and right. Millan gaped in awe at the two women, distracting him from the present danger. The young priest felt a sharp pain on his cheeks as a fray landed on his shoulders and grabbed his head. Almost immediately, the demon was knocked off, but not before leaving claw marks on one side of Millan's face. The Nesinu priest grimaced, pressing his palm to his cheek. He pulled back his hand to find light streaks of blood.

  A watcher swung his blade and separated the demon's head from his body. "Are you all right, Don?"

  Millan gave a quick nod. "Just a scratch."

  The two rejoined the fight with fervor, but moments later a third cry forced all eyes to the gate. More fray poured out, but the more terrifying sight was six ogre-like iymed, each standing nearly ten feet tall, climbing out of the tree. The massive beasts with muscle upon muscle surrounded the twisted gate on all sides. Each of the six ogres took hold of the retaining wall and ripped a gaping hole in it. The spring water, which was already brimming, gushed onto the battlefield.

  "No," Millan said quietly to himself. "Not the sacred ground."

  The young priest watched helplessly as the wave washed over the enchanted dirt. The water absorbed the light energy and dampened the blessing's effect. The demons rushed to the safety of the pool and splashed about. The humans were slowly losing their advantage. The sting from his wound reminded Millan to stay focused. In the short reprieve from fighting, he brought his hand to his face. A small amount of light energy pulsed from his palm and closed the wound.

  ✽✽✽

  Mashira remained calm as the demons swarmed around her and Sundancer. It had been years since she had engaged in any battle with demons, but the Assault on Light's Haven was much worse than this. She had the utmost confidence in the bloodseeker to keep her safe. Mashira kept an eye on the six ogres that had just destroyed the spring's retaining wall as they appeared to be searching for something. When one of the large demons pointed in her direction, all six cried out and abandoned the gate.

  "Protect the Prima!" Sundancer shouted at the top of her lungs.

  The massive beasts charged toward Mashira and the bloodseeker. Restraints flew from the nearby priests, coupled by scorchers' arrows. Four of the ogres were caught, slowly pulling their captors with them. But as the massive demons dug their heels into the muddy ground, they were unable to keep their footing. The middle two ogres, on the other hand, passed the gauntlet untouched by any blessing. The Prima steeled herself as she witnessed the soldiers in the demons' path easily knocked aside.

  Before Mashira could say anything, Sundancer bolted toward the two demons. As the bloodseeker neared the ogres, the leading iymed swung his fist at her. She brought the sickle over her head, and the blade punctured the beast's arm. The momentum of the attack forced Sundancer to swing up like a pendulum, cutting even deeper before being flung into the air above the demon. The powerful iymed stumbled and clutched his wound. Mashira watched as he desperately searched for his assailant before he looked up at the night sky. The bloodseeker hurtled toward her foe and buried her blades into the base of his skull, forcing the beast to crumple to the ground.

  As Sundancer pulled her weapons from the decaying demon, Mashira kept track of the dark energy. It seeped from the slain foe but refused to sink into the dirt. The wisps of darkness spread out and divided itself among the remaining five demons.

  The Prima sighed. "Kindreds? Seriously?"

  Empowered by the energy of his fallen brother, the second ogre demon was nearly upon her. The beast bellowed, lifted his fist high in the air, and struck at the Candelux leader with all his might. Mashira extended her arms outward, and a small dome of light encapsulated her. The demon's fist struck the holy barrier with a loud thud. His flesh sizzled and the ogre recoiled, grasping his badly burned hand. Before the beast had a chance to fill his lungs, his head slid off his shoulders. Sundancer landed beside the decapitated corpse.

  Mashira scowled as her dome of light faded away. "I really wish you hadn't done that. Look. They're kindred demons."

  The dark energy from the second slain beast traveled to the four remaining ogre demons. A group of fray and iymed attacked the priests casting the holy chains, and the kindred demons began to break free of their restraints.

  "We need to get this under control before it gets—"

  A bone-chilling wolf howl came from the twisted gate. The Prima shuddered as a second howl, even louder than the first, followed closely behind. What else could Verago possibly have hidden in the Depths?

  ✽✽✽

  The ground lightly trembled as two massive demonic wolves broke loose from the unholy tree. Millan gazed in disbelief while the demons cheered. The newly arrived beasts shook their bizarre fur as if dogs fresh from the water. With his shoulder measuring twice the height of any man, the larger wolf was pitch-black with a thick dark cloud seeping from his fur. The smoke made it difficult to pinpoint his body, but his vibrant red eyes showed clearly through the haze. His companion was more slender and slightly smaller, and her glowing fur lit up the immediate area. Like hot embers on a dying fire, her body pulsed with shades of ebony and crimson. Steam wafted up from the water beneath her as she eyed the enemy with her beady black eyes.

  "Restraints!"

  Along with other priests, Millan thrust his hands forward to capture the newcomers, but the chains were slashed through by the demonic wolves. The fiery beast leapt in Millan's direction and growled menacingly. The Nesinu priest quivered as his fellow priests retreated. He had to summon every ounce of strength and willpower just to move his feet and take up rank behind the paladins and watchers. The black wolf sat back on his haunches and howled to the night sky. The dark essence, which had initially oozed from his fur and evaporated like a wisp into the night, spread like a heavy smoke outward from the beast. Millan watched in horror as the dark energy consumed those closest to the wolves.

  "Get back! Stay away from the Corruption!" The priests did their best to contain the attack. Millan retreated, and as he encountered other fighters, he repeated the instructions.

  "Fire!"

  Arrows flew through the air. Millan felt a glimmer of hope, but it rapidly faded as most of the projectiles deflected off the thick fur of the wolves. The few that found their mark seemed to only anger the monsters. Corruption completely encompassed the giant beasts.

  Many fray and iymed flocked to the protection of the wolves while the rest worked to free the four ogre demons near the Prima. Millan looked back and forth between the two problems. The four ogres wouldn't stay restrained for much longer, but who knew what the wolves were capable of? The situation was spiraling out of control.

  "Contain the beasts together! Blessing of the Holy Prism!"

  Millan raised his arms with his palms facing the Corruption. A wall of light shimmered into existence as the priests unified their efforts into one spell to keep the dark cloud from spreading. An unnatural silence fell on the b
attlefield. What were the demons planning inside the prism? Millan knew the spell was only meant to contain the smoke. If the priests wished to trap their prey, they would need a lot more help. The quiet was interrupted by shouting from the other side of the city center. Millan spotted Mashira and Sundancer racing toward the four iymed that had finally broken free of their restraints. He wanted very badly to join her, but his feet remained planted. His role in containing the Corruption was equally important.

  "Here they come!"

  "Wait until they break through!"

  Millan's hands shook in anticipation. The paladins and watchers raised their weapons, and the scorchers loaded their bows. Greater fray smashed through the holy wall, and the inhabitants spilled out along with the cursed cloud. The arrows were loosed, and the battle was underway again. Millan let his part of the holy prism vanish as he prepared to fight, but all he could do was gawk as the wolves emerged from the Corruption and soared over the fighters.

  "They're heading toward the rectory!"

  The Nesinu priest didn't waste a second as he began sprinting back toward the courtyard. Back toward Erynion. He had no idea what he was going to do when he got there, but every fiber in his being told him to get to the demon lord as quickly as possible. As Millan gave chase, he thought back to his lessons with Don Skully. Never was there mention of monstrous demon wolves. What the depths were these things?

  Chapter 28

  The Denhauli

  Erynion had knelt while the ground trembled and the priests scattered like terrified mice. The Devil's Eye had shown him their fear, their energy recklessly flitting about like a flickering flame. And though their initial panic had subsided, terror still appeared to grip most of the priests who remained in the courtyard. The demon lord wondered what had caused the quake, but made no attempt to free himself. Wrapped in divine restraints, he found the burning sensation quite pleasant. He had no desire to experience the agony anytime soon.

  The rectory courtyard was quiet. Even the priests who had stayed behind to guard Omana and the other restrainers didn't socialize. The demon lord smirked. Just minutes ago, he faced execution, but now, with the fear of the priests so palpable, it seemed as if he were the only one at ease.

  "What's so funny?" Omana asked.

  His smile faded.

  "What's the matter? Shy?"

  Erynion wasn't in the mood to talk.

  Her eye twitched. "It must be something. Tell me. What is it you find so amusing?"

  "Everything. All of this. This cleansing ritual. Whatever's happening right now inside your city. All of this just for me. Why?"

  "You annihilated an entire village. With your help, the Seductress infected another with Corruption."

  "That must be terrifying to you since I don't even know my identity yet."

  "You don't?"

  "I don't."

  Omana clenched her jaw. "Depths. That would mean you're not Sir Bix."

  "What makes you say that?"

  "If you don't know who you are, then there's no way the Prima could extract your identity using the Devil's Eye. You're not him, are you?"

  "Afraid not."

  "Then who the depths are you?"

  "I wish I knew." The demon lord scanned Omana up and down. The dreams had given him many clues about who he was. He merely lacked a name. Erynion had no doubt this archdon, and probably anyone else in the vicinity, knew exactly who was the brother of King Batar and Princess Sereyna. He yearned to learn the name. It was the key to his power. But in captivity, it could also be the key to his destruction. "Not that I'd tell you if I did."

  "You know, for a demon wrapped completely in blessings, you don't appear to be in pain at all."

  "Pain is relative."

  "What does that mean?" Omana asked.

  "Let's just say, given the alternative, I rather enjoy the feel of the chains."

  "Is that so?" The archdon addressed one of the priests restraining the demon lord. "Don Shatha, drop your chains and spike his heart."

  "Uh, y-yes, Your Grace."

  Erynion sensed the fear festering within the priest. Don Shatha's breathing became more pronounced as he inched closer. His trembling hands pushed back the sleeves of his brown robe.

  "Have no fear," the demon lord said reassuringly. "I won't attack. Nothing you do can harm me anyway."

  The priest hesitated, his anxiety evident by his twitching fingers.

  "Get on with it!" Omana urged.

  Shatha's light energy churned chaotically within him. The priest lifted his hand, and his aura intensified in his arm.

  "We have him. He's not going anywhere. Do it!"

  "Blessing of the Lumenail." Shatha's voice was shaky as the energy seeped from his palm. A glowing spike hovered above his hand, and the priest thrust the blessing into the demon's chest. Shatha closed his eyes and turned his head.

  Erynion was surprised to find the spell did very little. He felt it penetrate his skin, but after that—nothing. With the spike of light sticking out of his chest, he addressed the archdon. "What was the purpose of this?"

  "Hit him again!" Omana commanded.

  Shatha pulled back his arm, and the blessing followed. The spell had lost much of its strength, but soon it lit up once more. Shatha forced the spike back through Erynion's heart.

  Nothing.

  "You don't feel that at all?" Omana asked.

  The demon lord raised his eyebrows. "What exactly should I be feeling?"

  "That's not possible. It's going right through you. How do you not feel that?"

  "Perhaps, you should give it a try."

  ✽✽✽

  "Come on!" Vikard waved to the priests under his command. Finished with their task of casting the Blessing of Marked Defense on the city, the archdon moved on to his next order. "Let's head back to the rectory."

  "Your Grace, don't you think our skills would be of better use at the twisted gate?" Don Tuarsh asked.

  Don Hessestra came up behind her brother and slapped him on the back of the shoulder. "Because I'm sure His Grace hadn't considered that already."

  Vikard stroked his goatee. They were approximately halfway between the rectory and the center of the city. Archdon Westan's priests were the only ones assigned to protect Omana and those restraining the demon lord. "It's fine, Hess. The gate's here because of the demon lord. Where do you think the demons are going to run if they get out of the center?"

  "But Archdon Westan—" Tuarsh bit his tongue as the archdon tilted his head. "Could probably use our help."

  Hess snickered. "Nice recovery."

  "Everyone, back to the courtyard!" Vikard called out. Despite the distant rumbling behind them, he was sure he'd made the right call. There were six other archdons and nearly a hundred priests taking care of the twisted gate, not to mention the Prima and all the watchers, paladins, and scorchers. Westan was an experienced archdon, but there was no reason for him to guard the demon lord alone. After all, wasn't Erynion the greatest threat in the city?

  The rectory came into view and there was no sign of demon activity. Archdon Omana and the other priests still had the demon lord restrained.

  "Archdon Vikard." Westan sat on a wooden crate with his back against the rectory wall.

  "Archdon Westan, everything quiet here?"

  "So far."

  For as long as Vikard knew him, Westan was never a man of many words. There were archdon meetings where he wouldn't speak the entire time. Kindhearted and humble, he was well liked and well respected. If Head Archdon Scarit decided to step down, Omana and Westan would be the two likely candidates to take his spot.

  "I wonder how it's going. Must be one depths of a battle," Vikard said.

  "Mm-hmm."

  Everything was so serene by the rectory that Vikard began to second-guess his decision. "Maybe I should take my squad and head up there."

  "Up to you."

  "So, no demons have even come close to the rectory yet? No activity at all?"

  "All quiet
here." Westan gestured toward the demon lord with his head. "Except for Omana. Seems like she's struck up a conversation with the prisoner."

  "Heh, pleasant, I'm sure." Vikard sprang to his feet when he spotted a priest attacking the demon lord. The archdon raced across the courtyard. "What are you doing?! Get away from him!"

  Don Shatha stepped back as Vikard arrived at the scene. Westan was right behind, along with a handful of priests.

  "Relax." Omana made no effort to hide the annoyance in her voice. "They were my orders."

  "Are you trying to make him angry?" Vikard asked in disbelief.

  "Everything's fine. As you can see the prisoner hasn't budged. We're doing our part. Did you do yours?"

  "If you're referring to the marked defense, then yes."

  "And why are you here?"

  "I thought our help would be needed."

  "You're mistaken," Omana said sharply. "Perhaps you should join the fight at the oak."

  Vikard had been an archdon for the last ten years and had always found Omana to be somewhat crass. When she returned home to Royal Oak after Mashira's Illumination ceremony, many thought Head Archdon Scarit would give Omana the opportunity to take his role. After all, it was customary for a head archdon to offer the title to a former advisor. And while some believed this slight was the source of her rough demeanor, Vikard knew Omana had always been this way. He'd heard the stories from his father, who had also served as one of Primus Ayristark's advisors.

  "Perhaps you're right," Vikard acknowledged.

  A loud howl echoed between the buildings. The priests murmured to one another.

  "What the depths was that?"

  "Sounded like a wolf."

  "A wolf?"

  "In the city?"

  "What else?"

  A second howl pierced the air.

  Vikard's eyes darted between Westan and Omana. "You don't think they were right, do you?"

  "I didn't before. We never had any evidence," Omana answered. "It was only just a story."