She eased her hand from the pouch, the Bracer of Fellraven attached to her hand. Just as her thoughts turned to summoning a portal for them to escape, the bracer constricted painfully around her hand, digging into her flesh. Nera gritted her teeth and pried at it reflexively. The bracer then suddenly loosened and fell apart into its separate components, hundreds of tiny links and the larger bands. The pieces all floated away from Nera, evading her desperate grasping like nimble insects.
“I created this millennia ago for a faithful servant of mine. Would that I had created more of these.” The Bracer reformed around the Engineer’s hand. “Do not think me ungrateful, Neratiri. I have given you a piece of knowledge as payment, not that it will benefit you for long. And now, I take my leave of you, Daughter.” His gaze burned into Nera before he glanced over at Nesnys. “You may do with them as you will, my dear.” The Engineer launched into the air, his metal wings beating the air in a powerful burst, hurling dust and grit in their faces.
“No!” Malek pointed his hand at the retreating Engineer. Power rushed into him, and he shot a blast of force into the air.
Faster than Nera could process, something slammed into Malek’s chest and sent him sailing through the air to crash hard on the ground a dagger’s toss away. His magical attack dissipated as his concentration was broken.
Nesnys retracted her whip and smiled menacingly at the companions. “A corruptor—how interesting. I had thought they were all dead, devouring themselves like starving rats centuries ago.” Her wings beat the air, and she rose up above them. The scales of her scant garment flowed like oil, spreading over her skin until she wore a form-fitting suit of scale armor. She raised her hands and spoke a command in the fell speech.
The ground rumbled beneath the companions and tore apart into jagged chasms around them. A clamor of clicking noises preceded the claws and heads of fiends clambering from the chasms to surround them. The insectlike demons were the size of ponies, covered in chitinous armor, with six limbs tipped in sharp claws. Their long, sloping heads had powerful mandibles, each the size of Nera’s forearm.
“I’ll send ye ugly bastards back where ye came from!” Waresh roared. He immediately leapt at the demons, Heartsbane cleaving through chitin with ease.
Yosrick dropped his visor and stood beside Jannik and Rand, facing down a wave of insectlike demons boiling out of the rifts.
Malek was back on his feet. His protective shield had safeguarded him from being injured by Nesnys’s whip. The purple gem on his staff glowed brightly as he channeled energy into a lightning bolt, which blasted into a knot of the demons, forking and striking multiple fiends. A number of smoking carapaces lay still after the blast.
Nesnys laughed, reveling in the bloodshed as she hovered in the air a dagger’s toss above them. “Krabuk, destroy them all but leave the corruptor for last! I will personally see his end, just as soon as I deal with my half sister.” She twirled her whip in her hand, the great lash humming through the air. “Come, Neratiri, let us see what you are made of, Sister!”
“Gladly, bitch.” Nera unleashed a handful of throwing knives at the winged woman, aiming to damage her wings and ground her. One was deflected by the whirling whip while two more struck her wings. The knives deflected off with a steely clink, and Nera belatedly realized her half-sister’s wings were metal like their father’s, albeit cunningly crafted to resemble feathers. The impressive craftsmanship reminded her of Yosrick’s crow.
Nesnys laughed wickedly, lashing out with the whip directly at Nera. She dove aside, avoiding the blow, which would’ve struck her face, but then felt a stinging pain around her right leg. The lash had snared around her calf and tore through her leather breeches and into flesh. She was upended, yanked off the ground by Nesnys’s strength. Yosrick made a grab for Nera’s arm but missed. The demoness’s wings pumped hard, and the ground quickly dropped away beneath them.
Nera’s stomach flopped, and her head swam with vertigo upside-down, watching her companions grow smaller as they flew higher into the red sky.
Where is she taking me—the citadel?
She looked up toward Nesnys. The demoness’s form blurred suddenly, and she disappeared. Nera felt a lurching shudder, and she was teleported elsewhere with her.
***
Malek looked up just in time to see Nesnys carry Nera high into the sky, the latter dangling from the whip wrapped around her leg. Just when he focused his power to try to snare the demoness with a band of force as he had against the erinys, the pair suddenly blurred and disappeared.
“Damn it—no!” His heart sank with the knowledge that not only had the quest failed, but Nera was lost to him as well.
Yosrick, Jannik, and Rand were being forced back away from the curving chasm whence the krabuk poured. Waresh spun and hacked mercilessly, not even noticing the tears and slashes he received, and the bleeding and maimed krabuk around him gave him a wide berth, seeking easier prey. The gnome was weakened from his earlier brush with death and hadn’t been able to recharge his enchantments, rendering him less effective in combat. The two soldiers were fatigued as well but fought on grimly. Rand looked around, seeking retreat, and Malek could see hopelessness in his eyes.
I can’t let them be slain as well. I’ll aid them, then we shall find Nera together.
A score or more krabuk had gained the surface, mandibles clacking as they pursued the warriors. With a brief glimpse of his second sight, he could sense what looked to be over a hundred beneath the ground, their claws digging easily into the earth as they scaled the chasm like ants from a disturbed anthill.
“First we need to stop more from coming.” He dug deep, drawing a tremendous amount of energy from the containment gem, noting in the back of his mind it would soon be dangerously low on mana, and channeled it into the ground.
He shoved against the stone beneath their feet. The ground resisted at first, then it broke loose with a mighty lurch. He was expecting it, but his companions weren’t. They lost their footing, falling as the ground heaved and moved a couple paces beneath their feet. The krabuk, more sure-footed, stumbled but swiftly regained their balance.
The ground slammed together, generating another massive jolt. A couple score of krabuk were crushed between the rejoined ground, preventing any more from joining the battle. The score remaining on the surface weren’t dissuaded, however, resuming their attack on the warriors.
Yosrick tried to regain his feet, but a krabuk sprang on him. Its mandibles snapped inches from his face, held back only by the rim of his shield pressed against its neck. In his weakened state, his arms trembled, and it got closer to his face with each snap of its mandibles.
The krabuk suddenly disappeared in a spatter of ichor. Malek sliced through several more with a focused line of force, giving Jannik and Rand time to get to their feet. Waresh lay there in a daze, it appeared, and several krabuk approached him slowly, cautious of the deadly axe.
“Waresh!” Yosrick grabbed the dwarf by the arm and dragged him away while Jannik and Rand held the krabuk at bay.
Without any further reinforcements, once the warriors were back on their feet, the krabuk seemed more skittish to rush them, especially with the way Malek’s magic was decimating their ranks.
Or perhaps because their mistress Nesnys is no longer here either.
“Unhand me, gnome!” Waresh snapped, getting back to his feet. “No need to drag me around like a sack of meal.”
“I thought you were knocked unconscious—you were unmoving,” Yosrick shot back.
“Unconscious? Bah, not from this rabble.” Waresh spat on the ground. “Nay, I was…” His eyes went to his axe for a moment, then he shook his head. “Never mind. Why aren’t these overgrown cockroaches attacking?”
“They are skittish of Malek’s magic, the way he’s been blasting them to pieces. Thanks for that save,” Yosrick added.
“Don’t mention it,” Malek replied as the others regrouped around him.
The remaining krabuk appare
ntly decided they’d had enough and fled, swiftly disappearing over a nearby ridge.
“This quest has turned out to be a buggered-up disaster,” Waresh said with his usual lack of tact. “Now what do we do?”
“We get Nera back,” Malek said.
“Aye, we can’t leave the lass in the hands of those bloody whoresons.”
They all nodded their agreement.
Chapter 19
The dizziness from the teleportation passed, and Nera found herself elsewhere. Instead of the cracked, dusty soil, smooth black stone was below her. Her companions were nowhere to be seen.
Nera felt the lash loosen from her leg, and she dropped to the stone. She tumbled instinctively and was able to break her fall, although she’d have some new bruises. Of more concern was her wounded leg. A ragged tear from the whip marred her calf, which oozed blood, yet the pain was manageable. She tested her leg and found it would bear her weight well enough.
A quick glance revealed a sheer drop-off of a few hundred feet, which she guessed meant Nesnys had teleported them atop the spire of dark stone Nera had seen in the distance earlier. The summit was perhaps a long dagger toss in breadth.
Her half sister alighted gracefully to the ground. Nesnys regarded her for a long moment before her mouth twisted in disgust. “I am disappointed, Sister. You are merely what they refer to as plane-cursed. Your blood is weak—diluted—whereas mine is potent. My mother is a true fiend of the Abyss. I find it hard to believe we were sired by the same father. Your mother must have been some pitiful mortal creature, judging from you. Father was right to cast you aside once your usefulness was finished.”
The look of disdain on Nesnys’s cruelly beautiful face made Nera want to ram her daggers through her shiny eyes.
“Perhaps I am weak and pathetic, yet I live a life that is my own, rather than spending my existence imprisoned in the Abyss, eager to lick up whatever crumbs our conniving father drops for you.” Nera twirled Lightslicer and Bedlam Judge in her hands. Whatever blood relation they might have, she cared not about it. She had nothing else in common with this vicious, condescending creature.
Nesnys ignored her, eyes focused on Bedlam Judge. She inhaled deeply, as if catching an intoxicating scent. “Is that a droexhal dagger? I can feel the fell power radiating… It is quite breathtaking. I shall claim that as my own once you have fallen—it would be a perfect match at my side paired with Willbreaker.”
“I’ll bury it in your side, you damned harpy,” Nera taunted. “You talk too bloody much. Do what you planned on doing!”
Nesnys cracked Willbreaker, and Nera dodged back, but the lash wasn’t aimed at her. Instead, the whip retracted and snapped into the form of a longsword, the small teeth locking together as magical energy crackled around it. “Let us see if your fighting skills are more laudable than your wits. Perhaps you could yet raise my admittedly low opinion of you.”
Nera ignored the taunt, cautiously circling and trying to get an idea of her sister’s skill. The demoness moved fluidly on her feet, with the easy grace of a well-trained swordswoman. She abruptly slashed at Nera, a probing strike that she easily evaded. Nesnys came in again, Willbreaker spinning nimbly from an overhand chop into a smooth riposte. Nera dodged the chop and got inside Nesnys’s guard, evading the follow-up strike. Lightslicer scraped over her mail, not intended as more than a feint. For the true strike, she spun and meant to drive Bedlam Judge into her sister’s back, but Nesnys flared her wings wide, buffeting Nera off her feet. The tips of the feathered wings held sharp edges, as she found out when they left a painful gash on her forearm.
Nera rolled back to her feet, aware of the cliff right behind her. She glanced over her shoulder at the ground an unsettling distance below. The flash of a sudden lightning bolt down below drew her attention. She could barely make out the tiny figures of her companions battling a couple dozen krabuk, which kept scurrying out of the gash in the ground like ants.
“Your friends will soon be dead. All except the corruptor—for him, I shall deliver the final stroke myself.” Nesnys sneered at Nera, keeping Willbreaker before her, probing to keep her back. “I have never had the pleasure of eating a corruptor’s heart—this will be a new experience.” Her face was flushed with excitement.
Nera threw Lightslicer at her with a quick underhand toss and followed it up with a charge. The move took Nesnys off guard. She ducked, and the dagger sailed over her head in a silvery streak. As her longsword dipped down, Nera brought her foot down on the flat of the blade, driving the tip to the ground, and leapt off it. Nesnys retained her grip on the sword, but she was hunched over, and her eyes widened as Nera sailed right at her head. She brought Bedlam Judge down, about to stab through her skull like a ripe melon.
But Nesnys was a seasoned warrior. She lashed at Nera with her free hand. Her talons sank into the underside of Nera’s thigh, upending her and leaving a deep gash in the muscle.
Her strike still would’ve been enough, had the demoness not brought her wings up protectively. The bone dagger screeched across the surface of her wings, drawing sparks.
Damned wings. I need to put us on equal footing.
Nera landed awkwardly, rolling over on the stone ground. She extended her hand and Lightslicer reappeared in it.
“You fight well for a mere plane-cursed,” Nesnys grudgingly admitted. She allowed Nera time to get back to her feet, obviously enjoying the contest.
Nesnys spoke an incantation, and suddenly Nera found herself facing four mirror images of the demoness. They flew into the air, circling around, and Nera quickly lost track of which was the real one. She was forced to duck and roll as the fiend dove and struck out with the sword.
Nera rolled on her back and pulled a throwing knife from the brace on her thigh. She tossed it at one of the images of her sister. When the knife struck, the illusion flickered and disappeared, leaving three remaining.
She barely rolled out of the way of a strike of the sword. With a tremendous crack, shards of stone broke free.
“Real one,” she muttered.
She loosed two more knives. Another illusion disappeared. The second knife glanced off Nesnys’s armored stomach. She tossed a third, noting she had only half a dozen remaining, and the last illusory Nesnys was gone.
“Are you tiring yet, Sister?” Nera asked. “All that flitting about like a rutting swallow has to leave one winded!”
As she had hoped, Nesnys floated down and landed before her again, face hard with annoyance. “As you will. It matters not how I slay you.”
“I like you better down here,” Nera said, forcing a grin. I’m gonna ground you, wench.
She withdrew four of her last half-dozen throwing knives, two per hand. In quick succession, she threw one handful then the next.
Nesnys whirled, wings flaring out to shield herself. Metal rang as the blades deflected off her wings.
But Nera had counted on that. She sprang into motion, following her knives and sliding under the sharp edges of the extended wings, feet first. She kicked out, hitting the demoness behind the left knee. It buckled, and Nesnys fell, catching herself with a hand on the ground.
Nera was on Nesnys’s back in the blink of an eye, left arm wrapped around her sister’s waist. She tried to wrestle the larger woman down, but Nesnys was much too strong. Nera could feel her muscles flexing as she strove to break her grip. Her wings retracted, buffeting Nera’s head and back, but she was resolute. She drove Lightslicer up into her back, shearing through the scale armor and deep into Nesnys’s shoulder blade.
The demoness screamed in anger, surging to her feet, but Nera clung on. Her claws raked Nera’s forearm then ripped into her ribs and back as she fought to tear her loose.
But Nesnys’s efforts were too late. Lightslicer sheared through the flesh around the base of Nesnys’s right wing, carving through muscle and sinew. The shard of metal embedded in her back came free in a bloody mass, and her wing was severed. Hot blood spurted, splashing Nera’s face. She let go
of her thrashing sister and rolled away.
Nesnys screamed in agony and rage as she staggered away, her remaining wing extending and retracting swiftly several times as if spasming.
Nera didn’t have much difficulty imagining the pain—she felt little better herself. Blood soaked her ribs and back from the sharp claws, which had rent through her leathers and flesh. Her thigh and calf ached from the deep wounds. But satisfaction at wounding the fiend took the edge off the pain like a double shot of dwarven spirits.
“That should put us on even footing,” Nera said with a pained smile. She idly wondered if her wounds were poisoned from her sister’s claws or foul weapon.
“Bitch, I’ll end you here!” Nesnys lunged at her, face ugly with rage. She brought Willbreaker around in a powerful swing. Nera’s wounds were taking their toll—she dodged back, but not before the tip of the sword opened a shallow gash across her belly. A mere fingerbreadth closer, and she’d have been eviscerated.
In her fury, Nesnys made a grievous error. Gleeful at the wound her last strike had drawn, she became overconfident, thinking Nera succumbing to her wounds. She brought her longsword down with a mighty overhand stroke, which would’ve cleaved Nera in twain had the blow landed.
As it was, she dodged the strike, and the blade split the ground open with an explosion of stone shards and an awful reverberating clamor.
Nera lunged at Nesnys with Bedlam Judge. The blade glanced off her scaled breast and nicked her unprotected armpit, drawing blood. The wound was shallow, but any wound from Bedlam Judge should prove fatal.
“You won’t survive that, Sister,” Nera taunted. “Yield now, and I’ll let you live for what little time you have left.” She backed away, putting distance between them. Time was on her side—she merely needed the dagger’s corruption to do its work.
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