by Joe Jackson
Eli noted that BlackWing had his hands down by his sides, and he wondered how someone who made such a gross error could be considered a deadly assassin. While Eli’s initial blows didn’t appear to have had much effect on him, the half-corlyps couldn’t imagine that BlackWing wanted to be on the receiving end of them repeatedly. Shrugging off his thoughts, Eli sidestepped and swung his hammer at BlackWing’s head once again, but he redirected the hammer’s path halfway through and struck the larger half-demon in the knee. He followed up the strike with a kick to the back of that same knee, and then the shorter but bulky half-corlyps threw himself shoulder-first into the larger half-demon’s chest.
BlackWing hardly seemed to even register pain from the strikes, and when Eli collided with him, the larger half-demon grabbed him and pulled him down to the ground. He rolled the smaller male and ended up on top of him, and BlackWing bit Eli on the side of the neck, going right for the jugular. Eli screamed in pain as the half-demon’s fangs sunk deep into his neck, and within seconds the half-corlyps could feel a deeper burn as his veins filled with venom. BlackWing didn’t suck out the half-corlyps’ blood or essence as the succubus had, but Eli knew that if he didn’t get BlackWing off of him, he would be dead in less than a minute.
BlackWing’s fangs ripped sideways through Eli’s neck after a few moments, and the half-corlyps thrashed in pain. He registered that BlackWing had been struck by something, and with every ounce of willpower he had left, Eli rolled away from the larger half-demon and put his hand to the side of his neck to try to stem the flow of blood. He was already getting woozy, though whether from blood loss or the poison, he wasn’t sure; he guessed it was both. His blood was on fire, and he could feel his heartbeat, pounding painfully against his ribs. He raised his bloodshot eyes to see who had saved him, and saw Piotyr smashing BlackWing’s head again and again with a vicious-looking heavy mace.
BlackWing was thrashing, trying to get the enraged half-elite priest off of him. The blows clearly hurt to some degree, but any other man’s skull would’ve come apart under the half-elite’s flurry. After bashing the larger half-demon’s skull a few more times, Piotyr put his knee into BlackWing’s sternum and placed an open palm over his forehead. “By the light of the dawn, I abjure you, minion of darkness, enemy of the light, defiler of life!” Piotyr shouted. “By my hand and by the purifying light of The Ascending Dawn, I cast you back into the darkness!”
BlackWing screamed in pain, which Eli found to be a sound of comfort. Considering how many times the massive half-demon had been struck in the head with either a warhammer or a mace and not even said ouch, Eli was glad to see the priest’s abjuration had some effect on him. Piotyr was thrown back off of BlackWing after a moment, and the half-corlyps thought perhaps the abjuration had failed, so he began crawling toward Katarina just in case. It took the last of Eli’s strength to make it into the safety of the paladin’s nimbus of light, but once he reached her, Katarina knelt down and laid her free hand upon his wounded neck. Without ever taking her eyes from Piotyr or their enemy, Katarina uttered a nearly silent prayer, and Eli’s wounds began to close, and the burn of the poison subsided.
A sound like the tearing of a massive piece of fabric drew Eli’s attention, and he turned over and onto his side to see what was happening. Several priests from the other churches came out onto their front steps to see what the commotion was, and they were as wide-eyed as Piotyr, who rose to his feet and backed into the circle of light. A dark cloud rose from BlackWing’s fallen body, and Eli wondered if Kari’s vampire-dragon was taking its own form in the middle of the street. It had no real substance yet, but it did not blow away when a breeze filtered down the street. It was unlike anything Eli had seen in all his years working for the Order or adventuring.
BlackWing’s hands reached up as if trying to gather the inky, almost solid mist that was erupting slowly from him, but soon the half-demon’s hands fell limply to his sides. His body –even his clothing and his weapons – shriveled nearly instantly, crumbling into dust, leaving only the black mass behind. It took on a vaguely human shape once BlackWing’s body was gone, and somehow, even in the void of that solid darkness, two pits appeared, the formation of eyes so deep, dark, and terrible that it was like staring into the depths of the Abyss itself. In that moment, in the stillness of the cool spring night, every man and woman standing on Temple Street saw the face of a shadow demon. It was not a serilis-rir, nor even a demon of the underworld: mallasti, elestram, erestram, valiras, sylinth, or harmauth; it was some sort of demon spirit, a manifestation of hatred, maliciousness, and evil given form.
It let out a terrifying screech, a wretched sound so powerful and sharp that all who heard it pressed their hands to their ears. The screech was some ancient form of communication, a language of malice that registered in their minds as words. “Your gods are pathetic,” it said disdainfully. “You may be able to destroy a mortal form, but you are powerless against me.”
“Paladin, destroy it!” called the human priest who’d emerged from Ambergaust’s temple. “Everyone, focus your prayers on the human woman!”
Vague as his order sounded to Eli, the eyes of every priest on Temple Street turned toward Katarina, and the circle of light that surrounded the young woman grew to encompass the entire street, then the entire district. The shadow demon remained, unafraid of the circle of light, but it was in pain – that much it couldn’t hide. Katarina raised her sword and approached, but she seemed to think better of trying to fight the demon spirit. She stopped only a few feet away from it, and she held her blade straight up before her face, turning it sideways so she could stare around its burning radiance at the demon creature.
“You are not welcome here,” she said forcefully. She stood firm, though it was clear to Eli that she was revolted by the demon spirit: a cloud of impenetrable darkness, unpierced even by the paladin's light that filled the entire street as though they stood under the midday sun. The shadow demon was completely opaque despite its incorporeal form. “I banish you to the darkness; leave this place, and never return.”
“Leave this place, and never return. We banish you to the darkness,” the priests on their front steps repeated in kind.
The screech filled the air once more. “This is not over,” the demon spirit imparted to its enemies. “You have not won, merely delayed your inevitable demise.” And then the darkness dissipated, leaving Katarina’s light to claim supremacy.
Katarina ignored the demon spirit’s parting words, and she rushed back to Eli and Deirdre. Piotyr joined her, but Eli just needed time to finish recovering from his injuries, and the same seemed to be true of Deirdre. Soon they all found themselves surrounded by a circle of priests from the various churches, and Katarina rose to her feet to face the priest of Ambergaust who’d initiated the channeling of power through her. “Thank you, sir,” she offered with a bow of her head.
“Do not thank me, or any of my fellows here,” he said. He pulled down the cowl of his robe to reveal vibrant brown hair and a well-kept beard and moustache, and in the light of Katarina’s aura, his face was warm, and the set of his eyes said he was clearly impressed. “It is we who should thank you, young paladin. That was a display that even the Armored Shepherd himself would be proud of.”
The nimbus of light collapsed, and once the power faded, Eli could see the fatigue that suddenly swept over Katarina. “We must get my companions off the street, quickly,” the young paladin told the priests, and several of them began to help Eli and Deirdre to their feet. Others checked on Piotyr to be sure the half-elite priest was all right, but he seemed merely bruised and roughed up a bit. “I should go and help Kari; I don’t think she knows just what it is we’re up against.”
“She wanted you to stay and guard the others,” the priest of Ambergaust countered. “Come, let us get your companions into my temple, and you may rest there. You have exerted yourself, young lady, and may be more of a liability than asset to your demonhunter companion at this point.”
>
Katarina clearly wanted to help Kari, but she didn't argue or refuse the help of the priests. She followed them all to the temple of Ambergaust and Carsius, watching for any return of the demon spirit under the light of the streetlamps. Eli glanced around warily along with her. Barely an impression remained upon the street where BlackWing had lay before his body crumbled to dust, and no unnatural shadows revealed themselves to either his or the paladin’s watchful eyes. Satisfied that they were safe for the moment, Eli glanced at Katarina, and with her nod, the two stepped into the warm confines of the temple.
*****
Kari paused and looked back in the direction of Temple Street: the entire temple district lit up like it was daytime. After only a brief hesitation, she gestured for Sherman and Sharyn to stay close, and continued her brisk pace into the southwest district. She wondered what could have caused such an effect, but decided she couldn’t afford to dwell on it. She had to trust that her friends and the priests of Kaelariel would be able to handle BlackWing, and she had to find and deal with the succubus as soon as possible. Her mind whirled with thoughts of just what ‘ritual’ the succubus and BlackWing could be performing, and how it had escaped her notice before now.
“Where are we going?” Sharyn asked as they ran. Kari was impressed with the woman’s endurance, for though she was wearing lighter armor than Sherman, Sharyn showed little sign that they had been running as long as they had. Her breath was steady and even, her long strides were consistent, and she looked as though she could complete a circuit around the city and then some. It was like Sharyn was under the effects of the blessing Kari, Erik, and Makauric had received from the czarikk shaman during the mission on Tsalbrin. Kari guessed it stemmed from ranging the forests for however many years Sharyn had done so.
“Graveyard,” Kari called back over her shoulder. “Not sure that’s what he meant by ritual, but she’s in the southwest and that’s the only lead I’ve got.”
The ranger nodded and they continued their hurried pace. Sherman, dressed in his cumbersome chain armor, lagged behind and had to stop to catch his breath. Sharyn slowed to return to his side, but Kari barked for her to leave him and stay with her. Kari couldn’t afford to end up alone in the graveyard with Turillia and whatever other horrors awaited. After only a moment, Sharyn sprinted to catch up to Kari again, and the demonhunter was even more amazed by the woman’s endurance. She wondered just what Sharyn did for the ranger network that made her such a gifted long-distance runner, and Kari chuckled at herself as she realized Sharyn might be wondering the same thing about her.
Her suspicions proved correct, at least to a degree, when they reached the gates to the graveyard. Both of its guards lay face down in dark pools. The succubus was like a wraith, striking from the shadows and killing her victims without ever being seen or heard. Kari checked on the guards briefly to make sure they were dead, not in need of healing, and found that both were long gone. Kari searched them for the key to the massive graveyard gates. The key was large and easy to find, and Kari took it from the guard and briefly contemplated whistling loudly enough to attract the attention of a watch patrol. She wanted help, but at the same time, she wanted to keep the element of surprise when they confronted the succubus. She wished the priests of Kaelariel were with her to go into the graveyard.
“It’s going to be dark in there, will you be able to see?” Kari asked Sharyn, suddenly acutely aware that her only help was a night-blind human.
“Ranger,” Sharyn answered simply, though Kari wasn’t sure exactly what that meant.
She decided it had to mean that Sharyn was confident enough in her ability to see under pale moonlight, and Kari moved to unlock the gate. A massive, spine-chilling howl split the air, and she blurted “Uh-oh” and met Sharyn’s eyes.
“They’ll be after the succubus first,” the ranger said. “We won’t want to stay for tea and biscuits after we deal with her, but if you don’t provoke them, they may help us. Be careful.”
Kari nodded, glad to have Sharyn along if there would be werewolves involved. She opened the gate in an attempt to be quiet, but the hinges groaned and creaked, spoiling any hope of retaining the element of surprise. Once the opening was wide enough to pass, Kari slipped through shoulder-first. Sharyn followed close behind and drew her two-handed sword, and Kari slid her scimitars from their sheaths quickly. The symbol of Zalkar began to glow brightly, verifying that the succubus was indeed present, but such meant that any hope Kari had of surprising the demon was eliminated. The two women made their way toward the center of the graveyard in the gloom of night, but the second moon had crested the walls of the city and it was a little brighter than Kari expected. She led Sharyn to where Piotyr and Deirdre had showed her the work of the necromancer, expecting to find the succubus there.
They approached the row of crypts that sectioned off the center of the graveyard, and could hear the sounds of fighting. The fact that they hadn’t heard it when they entered the cemetery must’ve meant the fight had started only recently, so Kari gestured for Sharyn to remain quiet, and they crept up along the edge of one of the crypts. A few of the crypts were broken open and there were several more disturbed graves, and Kari and Sharyn could see that there were nearly a dozen corpses that had been animated. Sharyn sucked in a sharp breath and showed her teeth in an angry grimace, and Kari could well understand the sentiment. Some of the dead were armored, but most were little more than bones and old, tattered clothing. None of them had been recently interred: they were quite decayed or desiccated, meaning they were from the older graves. Kari wasn’t sure if that meant the necromancy was stronger or weaker.
There were no werewolves in the graveyard yet, and Kari looked around curiously, trying to figure out what the undead were fighting. She realized after a moment that they were fighting each other. Kari tried to find the succubus or whoever had disturbed the dead and forced them to fight. Her eyes were drawn up after searching the nearby crypts, and she saw the succubus standing on the top of a mausoleum on the far side of the graveyard’s center. Even in the pale moonlight, Kari could see the fanged grin of the half-syrinthian, half-succubus as she watched her undead minions fight. The demonhunter didn’t understand why she would be raising corpses to fight each other, but rather than rush in and try to stop her, Kari decided to bide her time and see if the succubus inadvertently answered some of Kari’s questions.
Sharyn started to move past Kari, but the demonhunter stopped her with an outstretched arm. “Wait,” she whispered. “She’s not hurting anyone at the moment. Let’s wait and see if she gives us a clue of what she’s up to.”
“I’m not interested in what she’s up to, I just want to stuff her into one of these crypts to keep the dead company,” the ranger woman returned.
“Sharyn, I’m tired of stumbling blind through this entire ordeal. Please, let this play out for a few minutes, see if we can learn something,” Kari asked, but then both women turned toward the succubus when they heard her laugh.
“Arise, children of the damned, strengthen me!” the succubus called, and the seals on three more crypts broke, their heavy stone doors falling to the earth with a crushing thud. She seemed quite pleased with herself, but even at the distance Kari and Sharyn kept, the two women could see that the succubus’ expression changed rather quickly.
“You think this a show of force?” came an oddly-accented voice Kari hadn’t heard before. Her view of the speaker was blocked by the crypt that kept her and Sharyn hidden from the succubus. “Allow this one to demonstrate.”
Kari nearly wet herself as a deafening crack sounded from all around: the tombs, crypts, mausoleums, and headstones around her all cracked or broke clean in half at the same time. Innumerable dead clawed free of their graves, stepped out of opened tombs, or emerged from the falling dust and debris of shattered crypts. Kari couldn’t be sure from her vantage point, but it was as though every corpse in the entire graveyard had just risen at once. Sharyn turned and hacked a skeleton in half wit
h her greatsword, but Kari motioned for her to relax; the undead seemed to pay them little heed. Kari turned to see what the succubus did in reaction to her unseen enemy’s spell. Turillia – if that was truly her name – seemed stunned in disbelief, and she sought a more solid perch: the crypt she’d stood on had cracked clean in half as well.
“Your tricks and your games are quaint, abomination, but you will have to do far more than siphon arcane power from unsuspecting males to pose any danger to this one,” said the unseen speaker.
“Don’t call me that!” the succubus yelled back. It was an unexpected show of pain from a creature Kari had yet to see at a disadvantage. “My people may not respect me, but at least I am not a slave like you!”
“Emma,” Kari muttered. She gestured for Sharyn to follow her, and she crouched and began stalking along the crypts to get to the other end of the row. She wanted a good look at the mallasti girl for future reference, and she was pretty sure Turillia referring to her enemy as a slave had to mean it was Emma. The two women skulked along the backside of the crypts, thankful that the undead paid them little heed in their march to the center of the graveyard at their summoner’s call. Kari paused along the way when she saw that the two slain guards from outside the gate were shambling into the graveyard, and her heart sank a little. This contest of necromancy had to be ended, and quickly, or Kari wasn’t sure how far it could go.
Kari and Sharyn reached the corner of the last crypt in the row and peeked around it, and they got their first glimpse of Emma. She wasn’t at all what Kari was expecting, though she had to admit to herself that she hadn’t really known what to expect. While she had encountered mallasti several times in her past life – and killed every one of them – they had always seemed bigger than the creature standing in the cemetery’s center. Emma was about six-foot-one, and she was dressed in a simple gray robe that spoke of constant travel and wear. She had a head like a hyena, but her fur was a reddish-brown, and her muzzle and ears were black, as were the hands she held out to the sides, some dark blue tide of power coalescing around them. Her eyes were aglow, a fascinating orange color with the pupils wide in the darkness of the night. As Eli had said, she wore a collar, but even after hearing his description, it wasn’t what Kari expected. Emma seemed to be wearing a dog collar, and the terra-dracon woman understood then the humiliation it was meant to instill in the slaves who wore it.
