by L. L. McNeil
Seila landed as Tej and the others got out of his car. ‘You sure this is the right place, Ashante?’
The Enchantress nodded, her face grim. ‘There’s a farm about half a mile up. I think they’re heading there.’ She closed her eyes and took a breath as if to verify her words. ‘Definitely. They’re at the edge of this field.’
Seila wondered how Ashante’s magic worked. She was an Enchantress, like Fallow, but both had a very different manner of working. Ashante was a tracker and could sense life in such detail that she probably didn’t even need her other senses to know if someone—or something—was there.
Fallow’s magic was altogether more mysterious, although Seila wasn’t sure whether that was down to their different specialties, or different personalities.
‘I’ll scout.’ Seila took to the wing again, her route more direct now she had Ashante’s instruction. She needed to ask Ashante exactly how she sensed demons, and how accurate she usually was. Often, Seila heard demonic voices, but they were the remnants of those that had passed earlier. She’d follow the voices but find she’d arrived too late, and would have to start her hunt all over again.
Ashante spoke with confidence, and Claes hadn’t questioned her either. Seila needed to get used to this new method of tracking down demons, and relying on the words of others.
Seila peered down at the cabbage field. In the fading light, demons were difficult to pick out. Especially Prowlers. Their nickname, Shadow Striker, held true particularly at night. She slowed down, beating her wings and fanning them out. Night flying was always hard work—there were fewer air currents she could use to boost her speed or altitude. And working harder meant she made more noise, and greatly increased the chance of the Prowlers sensing her.
At least they wouldn’t see her, she supposed.
As she flew, she saw the farm in the distance. The farmhouse itself was the largest building, but she counted six tall barns or outbuildings, along with a handful of tractors and heavy equipment. Yes. The Prowlers would definitely try their luck there. Remote location. Vulnerable people. No large crowds.
She glanced back across the cabbages, but couldn’t see the other Kouzlo. If Damon were to light up his hand, she’d see them, but that would give away their presence to the Prowlers.
Returning her attention to immediately below, she scoured up and down the lines of vegetables for movement. Rabbits bounded in between the cabbages, pausing to sniff the air or nibble a leaf. She could only just make out their silhouettes as a heavy cloud rolled overhead.
She needed to find the demons before they reached the farm.
Out in the fields, they had less chance of being seen, of drawing attention.
Ashante could sense demonic life almost anywhere it was, but to a general area. Seila could only hear them if they spoke, but that was much more accurate with finding them. Considering Shadow Strikers were ambush hunters, they rarely made much noise.
Just as Seila was about to fly off in another direction, she spotted one of them. It was crouched low, wedged in between two rows of cabbages, and kept completely still. She couldn’t even see its body expand with a breath.
Seila held out her hand, her sword materialising in her fingers. Holding her position as well as she could, she tilted the blade back and forth, the moonlight glinting off it. There was no chance the Prowlers would see—they didn’t have eyes—but Damon and the others would spot her position and head straight for her.
She glanced around, trying to see the other Prowler. Keeping them in sight was the key to not being mauled to death, and she didn’t want her companions to walk straight into the second demon’s waiting ambush.
She couldn’t move too much, lest Damon and the others lost sight of her and where the Prowler was, but equally, she couldn’t see the other demon from her current position.
It didn’t take too long before she noticed them approaching. She let out a slow breath, hoping the demon would hear her and keep its attention above, enabling the others to ambush the ambusher. In the low light, they’d all be at a disadvantage, and Seila needed to be their eyes from above.
There weren’t any trees to provide cover, which meant they had more chance of seeing the other Prowler than usual, which was good. It had to be somewhere in the cabbages, too, unless it had already gone off alone to investigate the farm. Seila licked her lips, trying to calculate. Did she risk leaving the first Prowler to search for the second? Perhaps drive it back to the other one where the Kouzlo waited?
If she moved, though, and the first demon took its chance to escape, they’d be back to square one again. No. She had to stay and wait, keep watch, and just warn them if she saw the second demon before it was too late.
In the midst of battle, Damon was going to use his fire anyway. That would light up things.
She scowled. So much for not attracting attention. They were far enough away from the farm that they couldn’t be seen clearly. But she would bet any money that the farmer and their family would come running the moment they spotted the blaze among their vegetables.
She cursed.
Damon screamed, and Seila looked down. He’d lit up his fits, bellowed a battle cry, and flung balls of fire towards the crouched Prowler.
Seila shook her head. What on earth was he doing?
She hurtled away, avoiding the flames as they exploded into the cabbages and sent up sparks and embers. The fires licked at the ground, catching immediately. The Prowler jumped up from where it had been crouched, its dark scaly hide illuminated against the roaring flame, and snarled in response.
‘There it is!’ Damon yelled, unnecessarily.
Seila aimed her sword, no reason to hold back. With the roaring flames all around them, they’d see the other Prowler in plenty of time. She dived towards it, taking full advantage of its surprise. The tip of her sword plunged deep into the demon’s front leg, just above its elbow.
It snarled, the sound vibrating through Seila’s wrist, then slammed its other forelimb down, claws raking her upper arm. The strength of the demon’s blow forced her to the ground.
Cursing at her lost advantage, she wrenched her blade free and attacked again, slashing at the demon’s neck and chest, forcing it towards Damon’s raging flames. She leapt back, avoiding another swipe, and attacked again, pushing the demon towards the fires all the while.
A crossbow bolt slammed into the demon’s shoulder, the force of it nearly toppling the Prowler. Bellowing, the creature span, tail lashing. Seila took to the air, narrowly avoiding its strike, and whirled around for another attack.
Damon screamed somewhere behind her, and the flames rose ever higher, licking at the cabbages and sending thick plumes of smoke rising into the air.
Seila coughed, waving a hand in front of her face to clear the smoke from her vision. ‘Damon, enough fire!’ She shouted down, but didn’t know if he could hear over the crackle and spit of the rising flames.
She heard the twang of Tej’s crossbow as he fired again and again, the Prowler bellow in anger and rage, and her comrade’s gasps and screams as they dodged its talons.
‘There’s the other one!’ Ashante cried out.
Seila looked at the Enchantress and followed her gaze. The second Prowler lumbered out of the shadows towards them. She saw spines growing from its shoulder, marking it as an older demon. It would be much harder to kill, but Seila relished the amount of power she stood to gain from it.
Its life, its energy, would be hers for the taking.
Leaving the others to deal with the first Prowler, she swooped down, sword clenched tight, and headed straight for the second. She hoped it wouldn’t hear her approach in the cacophony of noise until it was too late.
Lifting her sword at the last minute, Seila scored its tip along the demon’s nose. It snapped at her, missed her wings by a hair, and she twisted away from its jaws.
The Prowler lunged after her, its massive bulk giving it excellent reach. She flapped her wings, sped away and out of range of
the demon’s fangs and claws. It dropped back to all fours, sniffed the air, then headed towards its companion, seemingly unafraid of the flames or noise.
Seila arced around, headed back towards the thick of the action, her Sieken Blade yet to draw blood.
Damon shoved more fire at them, lighting up cabbages left and right, and almost blinding them with the brightness of his flames. Tej stepped forward and back, every shot considered, most hitting their target, but not doing a huge amount of damage. The Prowler’s hides were too thick.
Seila landed in between them and glanced back to where Ashante and Tress lingered. Ashante wasn’t a fighter, that was clear. She held her hands up, fingers splayed wide, muttering incantations under her breath. Seila wasn’t sure what she was doing, but hoped it hid the battle from the farm and the road beyond. The last thing they needed were people racing in to help and getting slaughtered.
But, Tress watched with folded arms and a cold stare, the same scowl plastered on her face. Seila wondered if she’d been born with a face like that, or if she simply couldn’t smile. ‘Not getting involved, Lady Tress?’
‘I’m letting the pup lead. He was so desperate to.’
Damon called back, ‘Feel free to get involved any time! These two are a bit of a handful, if you hadn’t noticed!’
Seila lunged forward, her blade attacking the demons indiscriminately. Whichever was nearest felt the bite of her sword. It cut across the tail of one, the foreleg of the other. Tar-like blood dripped onto the field from their wounds, and they attacked with renewed enthusiasm.
Several times, the demons forced them back, apart, or simply away from their enormous talons.
Damon began to sweat. He was panting heavily, and his fingers trembled and his fire spread away from him. ‘It’s getting a bit much.’ His voice wavered above the roaring heat.
‘Keep it together,’ Tej said, reloading his crossbow and firing again. ‘I’m aiming for their noses but their hide is so thick! I can’t get a good shot!’
‘I know. Keep trying,’ Seila called, swooping overhead. Killing one would give her a massive boost of power. Perhaps then she’d get some respect from Tress. If she could just open one up, cripple it, knock it to the floor, something, then Tej and Damon would be able to keep it down long enough for her to deliver the killing blow.
She tried desperately not to consider the repercussions of Damon losing control of his fire. He’d been training for weeks, now. He had to have improved his control. If he completely lost it, Seila wasn’t sure if Ashante would be able to restore the incinerated farmland.
‘Okay. I’ve seen enough.’ Tress strode past their line and unfolded her arms, almost casually.
Seila landed beside Tej and looked at her, incredulous.
‘Stand back.’ Tress slipped out of her jacket, let it drop to the ground. She pulled out her weapons, one in each hand. In the reflection of the firelight, Seila stared at the dragon-handled axes. One had a sapphire and ruby eye, the other had a sapphire and obelisk eye. Their handles were of differing lengths, and the detailing and shape of their blades were different, too.
Seila didn’t want to stand back. She wanted to see exactly what Tress was capable of, why she demanded so much respect from those around her.
Tress widened her stance, every motion deliberate and unhurried. She slid one boot along the ground, shoving the glowing embers away as if they weren’t even there. The leather didn’t even singe.
Several paces ahead, both Prowlers snarled, their attention on the new combatant. Blood dripped off them, but they were both as strong as they had been at the beginning of the fight, whereas Seila, Damon, and Tej were sweating and out of breath.
At their full height, they were large enough to look Tress in the eye.
But the Lady cared little for the intimidation of the heavily-muscled, predatory demons. Tress lifted both axe heads to her lips and closed her eyes. She whispered in a voice so low that Seila had to lean forward to hear, ‘Malisador. Theramax. It’s time.’
She span her axes, slowly at first, then built up speed until they were a blur of metal. The jewels in each handle glowed faintly, then flickered, their light brightening with every passing second.
Seila stepped back then, and brought her arm across Damon’s chest to force him backwards, too. She could feel the power emanating from those axes. Energy filled the air. It crackled and pulsed. The same mist that had preceded Tress’s arrival poured from them, one dark, the other light.
‘What...what is…’ Damon stammered.
They stared up at the growing, billowing mist emanating from Tress’s weapons. Even the Prowlers paused, as if unsure what they faced.
The mist coalesced, writhed around each other, and separated, each billowing out into a distinct shape. Heads formed. Legs. Tails. Wings.
‘That’s...those are…’ Damon swallowed and pointed. ‘Are they dragons?’
The two shapes shimmered from mist into flesh in a burst of fire, one dragon with scales of deep, smokey grey and dark purple eyes, the other red and orange, with golden eyes. Each stood a good ten feet tall at the shoulder, dwarfing the two Prowlers by some measure. The dark one opened its mouth, bellowed a challenge, black smoke pouring from its jaws.
If Seila had been in any doubt whether they were dragons before, she had no question about it now.
Tress lunged forward, her axes still spinning, and hurtled into the nearest Prowler. Her blades slammed into it, bit deep. One strike, two, three. She span as she fought, using her speed and momentum to carry her attacks further.
Blood covered the floor with every strike. Her fourth dug into the Prowler’s neck, her fifth severed its head.
The grey dragon lunged forward, clamped its jaws around the neck of the second Prowler, its claws scrabbling against the Prowler’s. The red dragon stepped forward a moment later, sucked in a terrible breath, then unleashed a wave of fire so hot it burned white.
The flames engulfed the Prowler, charring its skin instantly.
If Seila hated the stench of demon blood, the smell of one burned by dragon-fire was a thousand times worse. Acrid and intense, she gagged.
The dragon continued to breathe fire, burning both the Prowler and cabbages, incinerating everything in its wake.
Tress approached her dragons, her axes no longer spinning. ‘Malsiador.’
The red dragon cut its flames at her voice. It glared at the spot where it had burned, its golden eyes shimmering, and then it shuffled away from the burning body.
‘Theramax,’ she said again, her voice soft and calm.
At her comment, the smoke dragon released what was left of the Prowler from its jaws.
The demon’s body fell to the ground, crumbling into ash and dust.
Tress nodded, then lifted her gaze to where Seila and the others watched. Both dragons followed Tress’s lead, and turned to face them.
Seila gulped. Wondered whether Tress was about to set her dragons on them for their insults and offence. She raised her sword, challenged Tress to give the command.
She had no idea whether or not she could actually last against those dragons—she’d never even seen one before, let alone faced one in battle—but she wasn’t afraid.
Tress smiled, and her eyes crinkled at the corners. ‘That is enough.’ She held out her two axes, and the now dull jewels faced the sky. The dragons rumbled, not quite a growl, but certainly an acknowledgement of her words.
Mist coalesced around them, their claws, bodies, wings, and finally their eyes.
Seila kept her gaze locked with theirs, fought to keep her body from shaking. Her heart pounded at being the centre of their attention, but it was clear that Tress didn’t mean for them to attack. She was just showing off her power.
Seila hated to admit that she was impressed.
Even without the dragons, those axes were fantastic. Every one of Tress’s attacks drew blood, and she’d brought down a Prowler single-handedly. In only five strikes.
For
all Seila’s experience and her ability to grow stronger after every fight, her sheer formidability through being a Phantom, Lady Tress was in a different league.
And she wanted to learn all she could from the dragon axe-wielding assassin.
3
Damon struggled to put out the fires he’d started. Tress’s dragon-fire disappeared with her dragons, but Damon’s continued to rage. He raised his hands and manipulated the fire as best he could. His whole arms shook with the effort.
After the better part of ten minutes, most of the flames were gone, leaving only embers smouldering between blackened vegetables. Damon half-heartedly stamped on them—extinguishing the remnants of his fire the old-fashioned way, with his boots. ‘Sorry, I don’t have the energy to do it properly.’ He gave the others a sheepish grin.
‘Your fire is uncontrolled.’ Tress eyed him coldly.
‘Well, I’ve only been doing this two weeks, you know.’
‘And you wanted to lead this attack? Leave you to your own devices and you’d have set the entire farm ablaze.’
Seila didn’t want to leave Damon undefended, but she had to agree. She’d only seen bits and pieces of what he could do under Claes’s watchful eye at Caramond House. But in the field, he was something of a liability. Amber had far more control, and she’d hidden the fact she was an Elemental for over a decade.
‘I didn’t see you stepping forward to lead nothing,’ Damon said, straightening his shirt indignantly.
‘Not like you gave anyone else a chance. You were dead-set on showing off what you could do.’
Damon scowled. ‘Oh yeah, and you weren’t showing off?’
