Demon Games [4]

by Steve Feasey

  ‘What’s going on?’ Alexa asked. ‘What are all these nether-creatures doing here?’

  The Ashnon frowned. ‘It must be the Showing Day before the Games,’ it replied, without taking its eyes from the scene below them.

  ‘The what?’

  The Ashnon turned to look at her. ‘Sorry,’ it said with a small shake of its head. ‘The demon lords hold these elaborate events. Demon Games, they call them. It’s not dissimilar to the spectacles that used to be held by the Romans in the human realm. Nether-creatures never tire of any spectacle resulting in death and bloodshed, and it’s Molok’s turn to host the event. It was assumed, with everything else going on at the moment – Caliban’s efforts to overthrow the demon lords – that it would be cancelled, but clearly not. There is always a Showing Day beforehand, when spectators get a chance to see the combatants. Some of them – the best fighters with the most kills – have acquired an almost cult following.’

  Alexa shook her head. ‘It looks like a ticket-only event. How on earth are we supposed to get in there to rescue Philippa with all this security everywhere?’

  A great roar went up from the masses gathered outside the gates. Nether-creatures in the crowd turned to look back, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of whatever it was that had caused the excitement, and when those nearest the gates caught sight of the huge muscular creature that strode towards them, they joined in with the applause, many of them shouting and rushing forward, reaching out their hands, claws or tentacles in an effort to touch the newcomer. The celebrity was accompanied by an entourage of heavies, and these bodyguards drove a wedge straight through the centre of the crowd.

  And through the middle of this path strode a demon the like of which Alexa had never laid eyes on before.

  The creature had garish red skin, which made the yellow eyes in its head seem all the more ghastly and lurid. Around its middle was a huge ornate golden belt, like those worn by boxing champions. The belt covered its ample midriff, and below this it wore a simple leather loincloth. The only other items of attire were studded leather bands round its wrists. Large curved horns grew from the side of its head, spiralling like a ram’s and ending in deadly-looking tips. The demon’s head appeared almost too large for its body, which was itself huge, and it hunched, as if the weight on its neck and shoulders was almost too much to bear. Just before the turnstile, it stopped, turning to wave at the crowd.

  ‘Abaddon,’ the Ashnon muttered.

  ‘Who or what is Abaddon?’

  ‘That is Abaddon. The Destroyer. The most famous and powerful demon gladiator ever. There is a separate entry gate for the fighters, but Abaddon never could give up the opportunity to make a big entrance. This is a big deal for Abaddon and his supporters – he once fought under Molok’s name and was the demon lord’s champion, but just before the last Demon Games, he left to fight for another school: the demon lord Orfus’s.’

  Alexa looked back down at the nether-creature, who waved one last time before turning to go through the turnstile.

  The crowd howled with disappointment and pushed forward, ignoring the warnings and vicious blows that the phalanx of bodyguards meted out to those closest to them. The Maug guards in charge of crowd control looked at each other in alarm, knowing that they were about to lose their grip on the situation, as demons, djinn, and all manner of other nether-creatures began to surge forward again. A shout went up from the guards, and the pig-faced guardian of the turnstile grabbed Abaddon by the arm and hustled him through the gateway. Seeing this, the crowd roared and pressed forward, meeting the bodyguards’ blows with violence of their own until they were swarming at the turnstile, grabbing at the bars and forcing their way through. Many of the creatures climbed up on top of the turnstile, ignoring the spikes and barbed hooks that were placed up there to discourage this very thing.

  The mood of the crowd was ugly now, individuals paying no heed to those around them, intent only on getting to the front and gaining access. Up ahead, the moaning sound of metal under stress was followed by a great crash and the crowd went wild again, a cheer going up from each and every creature as they poured past the guards.

  The Ashnon grabbed Alexa’s forearm, and hauled the girl to her feet. ‘Quickly,’ it said. ‘Pull the hood of your cloak down over your face and follow me. This might be the best chance we have of getting in undetected.’

  They threw themselves into the back of the crowd, the Ashnon holding firmly on to Alexa’s hand as they forced their way through the throng. They were paid no attention by any of the creatures around them.

  ‘The turnstile has been destroyed. Come on!’ the Ashnon shouted to Alexa over the noise.

  Alexa was terrified that she might lose her footing. The nether-creatures surrounding her swarmed towards the entrance, and she could do nothing but go with them. Her hand was torn loose from the Ashnon’s, but she had no time to look where the demon might be; all her effort and will was focused on not falling, knowing that if she did so she would be trampled and killed underfoot.

  And now another great shout went up, but this time it was one of fear, not triumph. Some of the nether-creatures around her were gesturing at the guard towers on either side of the entrance, and Alexa looked up to see archers, arrows notched against the bowstrings, sighting down at the crowd. There was a terrible scream to her right, and a tall demon right next to her spun round, a black-shafted arrow protruding from its eye. Alexa watched in horror as the arrow transformed: turning from an inanimate black wooden shaft into a long slender eel-like creature. The arrow-snake’s body flapped and convulsed in the air as it burrowed its way down through the eye. The demon’s hands failed to get a grip on the creature’s lithe and slippery body and it let out one last scream as the remainder of the snake disappeared into the entrance wound, now the source of a stream of black gore that ran down the victim’s face. The dying demon’s legs buckled and it collapsed to the floor to be engulfed in the stampede as panic swept through the horde. The relentless push towards the gate turned instead into a panic to be out from under the guard towers, and nether-creatures broke away in every direction, looking for cover. Alexa pressed forward, being buffeted this way and that, but always keeping her goal of the mangled turnstile in sight. She’d almost reached the wreckage when an arrow thudded into the ground in front of her. She stopped in her tracks, glancing down to see the projectile transform into a writhing, wriggling thing trying to extract its head from the hard earth. She was about to turn and look up for the source of the attack when she was tackled around the midriff, her assailant driving her ahead of it, through the mangled wreckage of the revolving gate and on to the floor of the inner bailey beyond.

  Alexa beat at the figure crushing her, panic and fear blinding her until she realized it was the Ashnon shouting out to her in Philippa’s voice. She stopped and allowed the creature to stand and pull her to her feet. The demon reached out and replaced her hood, which had fallen off her head, before taking her hand again and leading her away from the entrance.

  Alexa glanced back over her shoulder at the scene she had just escaped. Arrow after arrow continued to pour down from the towers, but the crowd had almost dispersed now; those that were not dead or dying were running in every direction to try to escape the deadly barrage.

  They stopped to catch their breath in the shadows of a doorway.

  The Ashnon blew out its cheeks. ‘As distractions go, I’d say that was a pretty good one, wouldn’t you?’ It looked around. They had entered the grounds unnoticed. ‘If our luck continues in this vein, I see no reason why we shouldn’t have Philippa out of here in no time.’

  12

  It was getting dark now. Trey noticed that the great purple orb that hung in the firmament over this world never rose or set, but stayed directly overhead. They’d been walking all day, and the light that came from this ‘sun’ had gradually decreased. The sky was now a deep dark amaranthine – the colour of blood – and it was getting progressively harder to see through the g
loom.

  ‘I don’t like this,’ Trey said out of the side of his mouth as they approached the entrance to Molok’s citadel. ‘There must be another way in.’

  ‘Shh!’ hissed Dreck. ‘Be quiet and let me do the talking. If they get even the slightest inkling that you’re not Molok’s prisoner, we’re both toast.’

  The guards were working by torchlight; flaming brands jammed into the earth gave off an undulating light that cast long, dancing shadows across the citadel walls. Trey frowned at the wreckage of the ruined turnstile that the guards pulled and heaved at, and wondered what on earth such a thing was doing at the entrance to a place like this. At the same time he wondered what could have happened to have damaged it so badly. His concerns escalated at the sight of the dead demon draped over the top of the structure, its body riddled with what appeared to be arrow wounds. Strangely there was no sign of the arrows themselves.

  As well as the guards at the entrance, another detachment of nether-creatures worked away to their right, busy piling demon bodies on to a great cart. The low groans coming from some of the bodies in the heap suggested that the workers were unconcerned whether the cargo was already dead or in the process of dying.

  The teenager could not have known it, but it was only a matter of hours since Alexa had passed through the same entrance with the Ashnon.

  At the sound of their approach, a Maug guard who was directing the work of the others looked up. It squinted through the gloom at the approaching figures.

  ‘What is your business here?’ the guard shouted. ‘The Showing Day is over and … ’ It stopped when it saw Trey, and the look it gave the boy suggested it thought supper had come early.

  Dreck stepped forward, brandishing the whip, which looked like little more than a fly swat as he waved it in the direction of the huge demon. But if the Fire Imp was intimidated, he didn’t show it. ‘I am to escort this human to Lord Molok. The prisoner is to be—’

  ‘Used for the Games,’ interrupted the Maug in a weary voice. ‘We know. Everything is for these precious Demon Games.’ The creature spat on the ground in disgust and shook its head. ‘Look at this mess.’ It gestured at the remains of the turnstile. ‘All this damage because Molok decides to hold the Showing Day here instead of at the arena. So the scum that would normally go there came here, and this is the result.’ The demon looked the Fire Imp up and down contemptuously before turning its eyes to the human teenager. It licked its lips. ‘That’s a tasty-looking morsel you’ve got there,’ it said. ‘What say you we all have ourselves a little bite to eat, and you tell Molok that you lost him on the way?’

  The creature took a step towards the boy.

  Trey’s heart pounded inside his chest. He looked to his right to see that the other work crew had abandoned its loading job and was also making its way towards them. He considered how easy it would be to Change now. To slip his hands out of these ridiculous cuffs and fight his way through these creatures and gain access. They were vastly outnumbered, but Trey knew how slow Maug demons were, and he guessed that he’d have no trouble overcoming a group of them, even one of this size. Then his eyes drifted up the side of the tower, and he spotted the archers, their arrows drawn and trained on him and his guide.

  Dreck frowned, as if considering the guard’s suggestion. ‘I tell you what,’ he said. ‘Why don’t you and your buddies do that? You can all have a break, eat the human here, and I’ll go and tell Molok that I managed to get the boy all the way to his gates, only for his trusted guards to snack on him.’

  ‘Hey!’ shouted Trey.

  Dreck spun round, swinging the whip and catching the boy a painful blow on the side of the arm that sent him to the ground and made him cry out in pain.

  ‘Silence, prisoner!’ Dreck shouted, quickly moving forward and thrusting his face into Trey’s. ‘I have already told you that you are not to talk unless commanded to do so. Do you understand?’ And then in a whisper he added, ‘Shut up and let me handle this.’

  The Fire Imp turned back to the guards. ‘This human means nothing to me, and I would happily turn him over to you.’ He shrugged. ‘But,’ he said, eyeing each guard in turn, ‘he means something to Molok. And I for one do not wish to displease the demon lord.’ He waited a moment, letting this sink in. ‘Besides,’ the Fire Imp continued in a lighter voice, ‘there really is not much meat on the child. I doubt you would get more than a couple of bites each. Is it worth invoking the fury of Molok for such a measly snack?’

  There was a grumbling among the guards, and those on corpse duty began to turn their backs and drift back to the cart.

  The chief guard sighed, shaking its head at the sight of the bloodied boy getting slowly back to his feet. ‘Madness,’ it said, and spat on the ground again. ‘This zoo of Molok’s, these Games … madness.’ It raised an arm in the direction of the towers, signalling for the archers to stand down. ‘Go ahead. Enter.’

  Dreck grabbed the boy by the arm and pulled him towards the main gate.

  ‘Get off me,’ the teenager said. He glared at the Fire Imp, eyes full of tears from the lash of the whip. His arm was screaming with pain, and blood oozed from the wound.

  ‘Move,’ hissed Dreck, pushing Trey ahead of him.

  Once inside, the Fire Imp pulled Trey into the shadows cast by the citadel walls. When he spoke, it was in a low, excited voice.

  ‘We’re in! I told you I’d be able to get us in, didn’t I? Didn’t I say that this plan would work?’ He shook his head. ‘You nearly blew it back there though. What were you thinking shouting out like that?’

  ‘If you ever try to hit me with that thing again, Dreck, I’ll take it off you and shove it right up your—’

  ‘Never mind that. We’re in.’ The demon looked around, scouring the inner courtyard for signs of life. ‘Come on, we need to get moving. We have to get to the Great Hall.’

  ‘Hang on. We don’t know that Alexa’s here yet. We should stay low and wait until we know she’s—’

  ‘The Great Hall is where she’ll go,’ the demon said, moving off. ‘The dungeons are beneath it, and that’s where the other human will be held. If she’s here – and there’s no reason to believe she’s not, given the head start she had on us – she’ll be heading there.’

  Trey thought about this for a moment before moving to catch up with Dreck. ‘Now we’re in, you can take these handcuffs off.’

  The Fire Imp gave him a wide-eyed looked as if he was some kind of cretin. ‘And what do we do if we encounter more guards, hmm? What are we going to tell them? That we’re on a sightseeing trip around the citadel and I’m your official tour guide? No, you’ll have to keep them on until we reach the Great Hall. Then we’ll get rid of them.’

  Trey shook his head and sighed. ‘OK, I’ll keep them on for a little longer.’ He stopped and looked hard at the demon. ‘But I meant what I said about that whip. Don’t even think about using that thing on me again.’

  ‘I promise not to use the whip again. Look, I’m sorry. It was just that you were about to—’

  ‘OK. Your apology and promise are accepted and acknowledged. Let’s go.’

  Dreck nodded, and together they moved off.

  13

  Alexa crept out from beneath the rotting filth that she had been hiding in. Despite hours spent covered in the stuff, the new combinations of smells created by her movement in the debris caused her stomach to contort, and she retched. She was thankful that the light had dimmed to such a degree that she was no longer able to see the huge, purple slug-like creatures that slithered over the pile, but she was now aware that these had been joined by something else, something that stuck to the shadows at the edges of the small compound they were in and looked in at them.

  She glanced down at herself, grimacing at the state of her clothing and wondering if she would ever get the smell out of her hair and skin. She flicked at a globule of brown gristly goo stuck to her forearm, and looked about for the Ashnon.

  ‘Are you OK?’ the demon asked
in a low voice.

  Alexa spun around to see the doppelgänger standing no more than a metre away from her.

  ‘If you can describe being covered in unspeakable filth from head to toe OK, then I suppose I am. Remind me again why we had to hide here of all places?’

  ‘Because this is our way into Molok’s stronghold. From here we can make our way towards the Great Hall and the dungeons beneath it.’

  Alexa looked down at the foulness all about her and then at the circular opening – currently closed off– set in the wall above their heads. She didn’t like confined spaces. She’d dreaded them from a young age, and if the tunnel beyond the opening didn’t open up significantly, she doubted she would be able to make her way through it. She’d kept these thoughts to herself when the Ashnon had explained that this was their only way into the building that housed the Great Hall.

  ‘I can’t help but think that there must be an easier – and less disgusting – way in than this,’ she said.

  The Ashnon shrugged, never taking its eyes off the tunnel mouth. The seal that blocked it was made up of interlocking leaves that slid together into the centre, like the aperture of an old-fashioned camera. It was closed now, but the Ashnon was adamant that it would open soon and that the two of them would be able to jump up and crawl their way along the channel into the building beyond. Looking at the slime and crud that crusted the lip of the opening, Alexa knew that the journey would be anything but pleasant.

  Something moved in the shadows to their right, issuing a low hissing sound like the noise made when a bottle of fizzy drink is opened for the first time. Alexa and the Ashnon both turned to look in the direction of the sound and were greeted by the sight of two luminous eyes staring back at them unblinkingly. The hissing was echoed by some other creature behind them and then by another somewhere off to their right.