Niu laughed.
“How can I disagree with tough talk like that?”
Saben
The eyes of Azel peered at Saben from the scroll. He had coaxed the demon this far. After weeks of training at the farm, he and the others were growing tired and hungry. Yet, Saben was close. Azel approached the surface and he could draw the demon out further with a little more effort. He chanted the incantation again and again.
Azel and the scroll shifted, turning attention toward Saben. He grinned. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Early morning light filtered through the treetops. Saben grimaced with joy. He had taken all night to get to his position, standing, chanting, and enduring every moment.
As the sun rose higher he completed the task.
Azel joined him, the demon's power swelling his body. Muscles moved, grew and shifted to allow new limbs to take shape. The demon became him and he became the demon.
He looked at his form, examining the clawed hands and the additional set of arms sprouting from below his thicker upper set. His enormous new frame shifted experimentally, testing his weight. His feet sank into the soil and the grass of the undergrowth with his mighty mass now pushing on them.
Azel.
Saben, the demon replied. You have awakened me.
I need your power, Saben thought at the demon.
Indeed.
The image of the black starry face of the pale demon from his destroyed village appeared in Saben’s mind, sent to him by Azel.
You, Saben thought, you saw it?
“Through you,” said Azel, a low voice audible in his mind. “You showed me everything there was to see about him from his cruelty to his power. I know you want to defeat him.”
Saben glowered with demon eyes at the cloudless sky. The sun seemed dimmer, the light weaker.
He picked up the scroll and then folded it carefully with clawed fingers. He turned and marched from the forest clearing, toward the house. A sound behind him, different from the rustling of his passage through the foliage made him turn. Over his thorny, demonic shoulder, he saw shapes moving in the forest, dozens of forms marching.
These demon’s forms were not like his. These forms were sleek, ranged from pale gray to almost blue in coloration and handsome by human standards. They appeared almost like men, yet, Saben knew, these were not human at all, but maladrites, a kind of demon from the city on world’s innermost ring.
“Not a kind of demon,” said the demon within Saben. “No, those are my enemies. They are called Dominus Maladrites.”
Dominus?
Azel sent his voice to speak in Saben’s ear.
“You and I, are both foes of the maladrites. Him you perceived at your village was neither a demon or human, but maladrite similar to these.”
A maladrite?
“You've heard of them,” said the demon, “But in your land, maladrites and demons are both rare.”
Are these the same ones?
“Yes,” said Azel. “Now be silent. Be stealthy. We must avoid their detection.”
Saben sent to the demon, if you're strong enough, why don't we just defeat them?
“I could defeat them easily in my original form,” said the demon, “but together, we aren't yet ready.”
Saben glowered into the forest with his demon eyes. He sent nothing to the demon in reply.
The two of them shrank back, hiding among the trees. Though now almost tall as some of the smaller ones, Saben easily folded into the shape of a smaller demon using Azel’s instinctive talents. He hid amid the branches of one of the thickest trees. From his hiding place, he watched the maladrite force emerge. One by one the maladrites and accompanying vakari soldiers passed through the clearing.
These must be the forces of Nassio, thought Saben.
“Indeed,” said the demon inwardly.
They watched as the maladrites made a path through the overgrown farmstead. They did not move toward the house, but toward Soucot to the south.
Saben watched the column march. They were mostly lizard men without wings, vakari commoners. Only a handful of Maladrites called Dominus marched among them. Toward the end of the column, opposite where a mortal commander would ride, came the void-faced creature with the thin mouth below a dome of blackness as his only facial feature. He wore a heavy cloth about his waist but no other garments. He moved, spindly limbs slipped easily between the trees.
That is my enemy.
Azel reached out to Saben and held his heart, keeping him quiet. Saben wanted to shout at that maladrite, wanted to destroy the entire column with his wrath and the demon's might empowering his voice.
“Not yet,” said Azel.
Saben grimaced. His jaw ached from displeasure.
He remained where he stood. The enemy army of maladrites and lizard men marched toward Soucot.
“Maladrites,” Azel said, “are the enemies of demons. However, neither of us are typically enemies of mortals. If these maladrites would make war on a human city, they are truly brazen.”
He has mortal allies, Saben thought.
“Indeed,” said Azel, “the maladrites are more dangerous, but the mortals form the bulk of the force.”
“How do mere mortals compare to maladrites?” Saben asked.
“Most of them probably don’t wield magic,” said Azel, “A regular Dominus may not be a match for their winged mages.”
“That’s not a large army,” said Saben. “If they have enough mages they could cause a lot of damage to Soucot.”
“Do you want to do something about it?” Azel asked.
Saben frowned toward the farmhouse.
“We need to get the others, then we need to go back to Soucot.”
Folt
Folt and his team arrived in Soucot. The boat carrying them had been a swift clipper, not the leaky hulk they’d abandoned before going to Kanor. The harbormaster must be looking for how they escaped after their attack on the palace. Folt doubted stealth would remain important much longer.
Folt, Heen, and Uigara made their way down the gangplank in heavy clothes to hide from the passersby. They stepped onto the dock, leaving Deel and Rina on board to watch the ship.
The ship was small with only a handful of other crew for the sea voyage.
Rina could control the wind well enough to move them toward shore. Heen could manage the same feat. Children, Folt thought, wonderful.
The three of them made their way into the city. Their distraction needed to begin as soon as possible. Folt and his team were here to make the pain last.
They approached the mercenary tavern. A red-haired man let them in. They approached the bar and waited for the bartender, to turn and see them. Eric grimaced at them.
“I told you to never come back here.”
“I know,” said Folt, “but I have need of muscle.”
“None of the mercenaries here will work for you after what you did,” said Eric. “We’re a proud Tancuonese establishment. We aren't going to serve some brute from Kanor.”
“Oh, of course not,” said Folt, “but I don't require your willingness to serve me.”
“What are you saying?” Eric reached for a weapon under the bar.
“I'm talking,” said Folt, “about this.” He produced Aduwe's dream stone from his pocket. The stone glimmered in deep blues and purples, containing a light all its own.
He turned to Uigara and Heen.
“Protect me for a moment.
Uigara’s twin swords emerged from her cloak with a hiss.
Heen took up a fighting stance beside Folt. His fists were all he needed to wield his magic.
Mercenaries around the room got up from their tables. They approached the three at the bar. Eric raised his hidden club. Rather than looking makeshift, the club had patterned metal ball on the striking end.
Eric set the mace’s end on the bar, holding the grip tight.
“Get out.”
Folt smirked.
“When you come with us.”
Eric snarled. He hefted the mace. Folt cast the dream stone upward in his palm. The stone’s inner light caught in Eric's eyes. The dream stone allowed Aduwe to control victims of weak will from a distance.
Eric dropped the club. The weapon landed with a clunk, denting the wood of the bar.
“Excellent,” said Folt, “it worked.”
He turned to Join Heen and Uigara facing the crowd of mercenaries. Rather than raise a weapon or brandish his dragon-fire, he held up the stone. One by one the mercenaries fell under the spell. They turned against each other at first, lashing out at those who had not yet fallen to the stone’s power. The more he wielded Aduwe’s power, the more the odds turned in Folt’s favor.
Folt pushed himself away from the bar, walking among the battling mercenaries. He moved among confidently until every survivor was in his thrall. Aduwe, you cursed genius, Folt thought. Such power. He and the Fist would indeed be making their surprise count. These mercenaries would serve as their force to attack the northern gate. They would let in whatever maladrites and vakari raiders they could and then, Folt thought, the city would be much less able to defend when the fleet arrived. Such battles were necessary for them to achieve their great mission for their true master.
The great drake, Voratome made Folt’s stomach rumble from within as he considered the potential of their success. Folt could go free.
Folt agreed, that Voratome Drake, might indeed be happy to free Folt once they won the battle. When Voratome Drake’s scion walked the land, the greater demon would no longer need Folt to eat for him.
Like his ancient ally, Gorsheva, Drake was a greater demon. Unlike Gorsheva, he still lived and unlike Gorsheva, he was clever. He planned everything as long as any mortal could recall. Every plan he wielded in the city led to the world well under the governor's palace.
To imagine anyone thinks the place remains secret, Folt thought with a smirk.
Folt finished controlling the last mercenaries. He had them clean off the bar, then turned to the red-haired man. The little man nodded to him. They were all under the spell now. Aduwe controlled her pawns from afar, but her power was more limited in person. She had matters to attend to in Nassio. The king, once broken, was coming.
Folt clucked his tongue.
“All right,” he said, “Prepare yourselves. We are going to to the north gate. It is ours to take.”
He let he mercenaries out of the building little by little. They would cause no suspicion that way. Eventually, they would meet up at the gates and then the city would be in trouble.
Melissa
Melissa, Niu, and Alma trained sacra forms the next day until they lost track of time. Alma was not as adept or studied as Elaine, but her attention to detail helped them as much as their friend could in different ways. Niu eventually got close to mastering her sacra form, taking a wispy, pale demon’s shape for a moment. She struggled as the demon’s presence faded. The bells rang in the gatehouse near the gardens. The three of them stopped practicing, turned, and looked.
The garden and the north gate were adjacent to each other. Something approached the gate.
They moved toward the mass of shapes, weapons readied. In case of danger, Melissa carried her spear extended ahead of her. She’d not mastered the sacra form or even managed to transform.
Enemies were approaching the gate when the three of them arrived.
Melissa shouted a warning as she stopped spotted the first reptilian vakari warrior emerged from the tree line of the orchard. The trees allowed the vakari to get very close, almost reaching the gates themselves before being noticed.
Among them, were pale figures, as tall as humans, but more finely-featured than any man Melissa had ever seen.
Alma shook her head.
“Oh no.”
Niu nodded.
“I'll go for help,” she said, “I can get over the walls easily.”
“No,” said Alma, “I’ll go. I’m faster.”
“You want to bet?” Niu said.
“I don’t want to argue,” said Alma.
“One of you go,” said Melissa. “Whoever stays needs to fight.”
“Sure,” said Niu. “I’m with you, Melissa.”
Alma nodded at them. She sprang over the walls. Boosted by her sprites and banes, she managed to reach the side, then bounced to the top. The maneuver was swift and hard to follow visually, but Melissa could have done the same.
Alma reached the parapet and then darted into the city.
Melissa and Niu hung back from the gate, watching the more-than-two-dozen reptilian vakari gathered outside. With them, a group of the pale human-like figures stood as pallid pillars among them.
Finally, emerging from the tree line, came purple-tinged pale man, similar the others fine-featured maladrites, but with sagging, melted-looking features. He carried a massive sword over his shoulder.
For a moment, Melissa was reminded of Saben because of the sword, but there was no sign of him among these creatures. Even a traitor, or a foreigner, would not likely serve alongside demons and lizard men so easily.
Saben remained an enigma. Melissa could not guess what the man would do. However, the purple maladrite wasn’t him. Judging by the song from his heart only sprites dwelt within his center.
Banes made up a demon's heart, and sprites comprised the hearts of their rivals.
Niu glanced at Melissa.
“What are they?” She indicated the pale men.
“I think they’re maladrites,” said Melissa, “I’ve read about them.”
“You read a lot,” some Niu, “I’m still surprised you know about these guys.”
“They live in the city on the ring,” said Melissa. “Or so the books say.”
A shadow passed overhead. A form thumped into the foliage behind them.
Melissa turned. She raised her spear. Deckard Hadrian emerged from the tree line. His iron robe swished soundlessly.
“You two,” said Deckard, “what are you doing here?”
“We were training,” said Niu.
Melissa nodded.
“We came when we heard the bell at the gate.”
“The alarm bell,” said Deckard, “The gatehouse is under attack.”
“I know what the bell means.” Melissa frowned. “I just don't know how they got here so fast?”
“Likely they sneaked in from the north after landing on on the shore in some unattended place. With coasts as long as Lowenranes, it is difficult to defend the entire land from landfall.”
Melissa frowned.
“These creatures are here at the behest of the king of Nassio.”
“They’re his servants,” said Deckard, “at least for now.”
“What do you mean?” asked Melissa. “For now?”
“I mean,” said Deckard, “they are not all his servants directly. Those maladrites.” He pointed at the pale men. “They are likely servants of something greater.”
“Greater than a king?” asked Niu.
“A greater demon or something similar, perhaps,” said Deckard.
“Maladrites serve demons too?” Melissa’s brow furrowed.
“Sometimes,” said Deckard, “but mostly they simply pay heed to orders. They are creatures of law, unlike the demons.”
Melissa glanced at the crowd of vakari warriors by the gates.
“They're waiting for something, aren't they?”
Deckard nodded.
“Evidently,” he said.
The gate’s heavy doors cracked and then began to open. The gears ground steadily. The rumbling of the movement drove birds to flight. The bells rang heavily in the tower. Then came silence.
Deckard glanced at Melissa and Niu.
“Melissa, do you think can hold here?”
“Against all of them?” asked Melissa. “Not forever.”
“I need to go,” said Deckard, “I need to investigate what happened to the guards at the gate.”
“Niu?” asked Melissa.
“We’
ll be all right,” said her friend.
“I hope so,” said Deckard. “Good luck.”
He took to the air, sailing upward toward the gatehouse.
Melissa and Niu remained in their hidden position.
The two of them held their weapons, Melissa her spear and Niu her sword, at the ready. Niu had taken to carrying the blade after their first few weeks of training. She was more proficient with the staff, but the sword made more people pause.
The two of them waited in the shadows of the foliage near the gate, out of range of the vakari’s hearing and hopefully from that of the maladrites. The maladrites and lizard man started to move toward the open gate. They would enter the city in moments. Deckard was absent for the moment. Melissa glanced at Niu.
“We need to do something,” she said.
“You know what I said earlier,” said Niu, “about you taking on too much?”
Melissa shrugged.
“What if the city is breached.”
Niu grimaced.
“I meant you’re trying to be a hero. It sounds great and all,” she said, “until you die trying.”
Melissa braced herself on her spear then rose to her full height. She marched out from the trees. Niu joined her, sword in hand. They advanced on the reptilians and the maladrites.
Melissa called out to them.
“Halt! Not one more step!”
Niu grunted from beside Melissa. The two braced as a lizardman turned, and prowled toward them. The lizardmen carried short blades and nets, but none of them appeared to have long spears or bows. Two of them with wings took the air. Those two quickly ascended to circle overhead, both resembling the assassin that attacked the governor. The vakari from Nassio would attack, and Melissa and Niu must fight.
The reptilian in the lead, called to them, in Tancuonese, his voice carrying a heavy accent.
“Women, surrender,” he said. “You are not our concern. Flee now and you may survive.”
Niu answered with a glare. Melissa shook her head.
“How about you come to us, first,” She said.
The reptilian creature’s face split into a grin.
He waved the other toward his sword. Six or seven reptilian soldiers raced toward Melissa and Niu. They readied their weapons. The spear pierced one lizard man through the throat. He went down and Melissa pulled weapon back, aiming for another target. Even as she did so, she ordered her sprites and her banes to enhance her muscles, drawing the iron from her heart into her limbs.
Demon Scroll Page 27
