Gerard’s initial ploy of pairing off Shadow Company members with the paladins from Halo Company worked well, up to a point. They moved in groups of two dozen with twelve from each unit, which was small enough to escape notice but large enough to defend themselves if the need arose. The denarae stayed in constant communication, kything to warn each other of demonic search patterns and oncoming patrols, and the few demons they came across were easy prey for the holy warriors. The elves, with their uncanny stealth, moved in autonomous groups and were unobserved by either friend or foe.
Eventually, however, a group here was pinned down while another group there had to keep moving to evade a patrol, and they began to cluster and became even more noticeable. Finally, a pack of hellhounds caught their scent and led a large patrol of balrogs and drolkuls right to them, and subtlety was thrown out the door – or “out of the tent” as Gerard had taken to saying – as they made a mad dash for the inner edge of the city.
Now the denarae were using their kything ability to reform the combined units so Birch could hurry them all along and leave no one behind.
Finally they were all together again, and an advance rank of a hundred paladins led the way against the occasional groups of demons who were able to get ahead of them. Another hundred stayed toward the back to guard against demons – usually hellhounds, which were swifter than their fellows – while Shadow Company and the Elan’Vital guarded the flanks. The last hundred paladins stayed toward the middle as a reserve force, one of Gerard’s standard tactics that had served him well in the past.
After hours of frantic speed, Brican announced to Shadow Company that they had reached the edge of the city. The denarae, in turn, passed the word to the paladins, who had long-since learned to accept the inexplicable coordination and knowledge the denarae seemed to have about the goings on around them. The mystique of Shadow Company continued to disguise the talents of its members.
Danner breathed a sigh of relief when the last of the stone buildings was behind him.
“We’re not out of this yet, Danner,” Brican said from the back seat. Michael was crammed in between Brican and the rest of Danner’s explosives, and Garnet was riding in the passenger seat.
“No, but we’re out of there,” he replied, jerking his head back. “That’s enough for me right now.”
“Too early to celebrate,” Trebor kythed to them urgently. “Your uncle spotted a flight of imps winging in fast on our right flank, and there’s a whole bloody pack of hellhounds bounding up behind us.”
Danner’s mind raced as he tried to picture how his uncle had described the area between Dis and Abaddon.
“Trebor, there should be a large cliff somewhere ahead of us,” he said aloud even as he thought it back to the denarae. “Ask my uncle how long it will take us to get there, and if we have enough time before the imps and hellhounds catch up.”
A few moments later, Trebor kythed back, “It’ll be close, but one or both of the demon swarms will catch up to us right about the time we get to the cliffs. We won’t have time to get down before they’re on us.”
“We don’t have to,” Brican interjected just as Danner’s hopes began to fade. “If some of Halo Company can carry the elves and denarae who don’t have cloaks, the rest can stay topside to cover their descent. Once they’re clear, the rest of the paladins can just jump off and catch up.”
“Tell Gerard,” Danner told them.
“Already done,” Trebor replied. “He and Garnet are a step ahead of us.”
Danner glanced over at Garnet in the passenger seat, and the Red paladin winked at him.
Passing orders on the move was difficult for Halo Company, but with the denarae to speed things along, everyone had their orders by the time they reached the cliff. Birch spun Selti about – the dakkan was in his runner form – and took command of the paladins staying up top while Gerard led the rest in their descent. Only a hundred members of Halo Company stayed with Birch; fifty of the holy warriors followed Gerard unencumbered by denarae so they could guard their comrades’ descent. There were only forty of Siran’s elves left alive after their perilous chase through Dis, and they were easily accommodated by the paladins. Two of the denarae platoons had cloaks of their own, so there was no shortage of people to help in the descent.
Danner, Brican, Michael, and Garnet stayed above to help, and Danner left the engine running for a quick getaway when the time came.
The hellhounds arrived while the imps were still inbound, and the paladins were immediately engulfed by a wall of slashing teeth and vicious claws. Hellhounds were among the least intelligent of all demons, little better than the canine beasts they resembled. Most were the size of greyhounds or retrievers, but a few were the size of ponies and they easily brought men to the ground for their smaller cousins to savage.
The paladins held their ground, retreating grudgingly as the press of hellhounds forced them back.
“More demons coming up behind them,” Brican reported, “and those imps are just about here. It’s time to go.”
Birch shouted an order and the paladins turned and sprinted toward the edge of the cliff. Danner and the others raced back to the buggy, but Danner told Michael to take the wheel. He leapt onto the back and, for the first time since entering Hell, allowed his wings to asolve, then clung to the frame as Michael stomped on the accelerator. He had just painted a target on his back, but at this point he decided stealth was a moot point, since the demons quite obviously knew exactly where they were.
“Just drive off the edge,” Danner shouted in Michael’s ear over the roar of the engine. The Yellow paladin looked back at him in alarm, but nodded.
Next to them, Birch and Selti were keeping pace as the gray dakkan broke into a full sprint. Danner had never seen a dakkan moving at top speed on the ground, and he now saw for the first time why they were called ‘runners’. Selti’s speed was impressive, and he practically flew across the ground. He only started to fall behind as Michael pushed the buggy into the upper range of its capabilities.
Then they were at the edge, and Michael shut his eyes as he deliberately drove off the cliff and plunged toward the ground below.
Danner immediately let his legs drift free from the buggy, but he kept both hands firmly anchored to the metal frame. As they plummeted toward the ground, he took control of their fall, using the inhuman strength granted by his heritage to safely slow their descent.
Behind them, Birch slipped his feet from the stirrups and crouched on the saddle at the last second, then jumped free just as Selti leapt from the edge. He controlled his descent with his cloak and dove gracefully through the air in a slow forward flip. After a few moments, Birch allowed his feet to swing back below him and landed neatly back in the saddle of his gray-scaled mount, who was now in his full-sized flying shape.
The last members of Halo Company who had stayed above with them were still dropping at breakneck speed toward the ground, but this was exactly the situation they’d been trained to handle. At the last instant, they pulled out of an otherwise suicidal dive and landed on the ground. Seconds behind them, Danner set down the buggy and stood in the backseat again as Birch rushed by overhead.
“Let’s go!” Trebor shouted over the din. Danner hadn’t bothered to dekint his wings, so the denarae couldn’t kythe to him along with the others. “Gerard says we’ve got an open road to Abaddon, and we’re to follow Birch with all possible speed. Siran is already moving forward, and when we get there he’ll go in with you and a platoon from each company. The rest of us will stay outside to guard your backs.”
“How many have we lost so far?” Danner shouted back.
“Thirty down across Shadow Company, and about that many from Halo,” Trebor replied grimly. “Siran’s lost about ten of his elves. Their bodies are all back there somewhere, and we may never get them back.”
“Understood,” Danner said grimly. He tapped Michael on the shoulder. “You heard the man. Let’s get moving.”
- 4 -
Birch and Selti sped through the air and quickly overtook Siran and the Elan’Vital. The elf captain raised his halven in salute, but otherwise paid no attention to Birch’s passage.
The air around them was darker than it had been elsewhere in Hell, and there was a distinct odor of sulfur and smoke in the air that Birch remembered all too well. Even the stone was a darker shade here, as if to signify that this was the heart of Hell – the well of darkness from which all else sprang.
The acrid air stung Birch’s eyes, but he squinted and peered ahead with relentless determination. The pit of Abaddon lay ahead, and the land slowly began to slope away below him. The palace of the demon king began to take shape before him, and long-forgotten details were suddenly forced back into his mind.
Delicate minarets adorned a hundred towers and were crafted with such skill that the effect might have been beautiful were the entire palace not made from black demonstone that seemed to suck the light out of the air around it. The stone was ugly and unlovely. It did not gleam like obsidian, nor was it dull and flat like unpolished black-steel. It was unlike any other substance in existence.[39] Demonic gargoyles adorned every corner and spewed forth a ceaseless stream of fire from the Dena-Fol.
Off to one side, Birch saw the daemelans – the personal bodyguards of Mephistopheles. There were only a few dozen of the demons left, but they were more than enough to guard the demon king against all but the most powerful of attacks. The daemelans charged toward the main entrance on equine bodies, and even from a distance Birch could hear their massive hooves thundering against the rocky ground. Four arms brandished a variety of weapons, and Birch was glad he had never had to deal with one of the powerful demons.
Selti sped toward the massive front gates of the palace, which were currently undefended. Apparently Mephistopheles hadn’t expected them to arrive so quickly – if he expected them to survive this far at all – and had let down his guard. The daemelans were too far away to stop Birch or those immediately behind him, but they would be in place to halt the advance of Gerard and his forces.
Unsheltered, they’re no match for daemelans, he thought furiously as he neared the palace. Do I have the power to help? Selti sheared off to the side and Birch made a motion to his nephew below to deal with the gates.
Danner leapt forward from his perch on his buggy and shot like an azure arrow toward the palace gates. The half-angel cocked his fist back and struck the massive doors, which were made of black steel instead of demonstone. The gates shuddered and creaked open just wide enough that Danner’s buggy caught the edge of both doors and forced them wide as the sturdy vehicle plowed through.
As Selti looped around back toward the gate, Birch acted on some instinct and focused his will, then watched in amazement as a crimson wall of power shimmered into existence between the daemelans and the gate. The wall arced out around the gate in a broad curve, providing enough of a buffer that the daemelans wouldn’t be able to get anywhere near the entrance from any angle until they broke through his barrier. Indeed, the foremost daemelans immediately began hurling their weapons ahead at the barrier, and one generated balls of sickly green flame that splashed and hissed violently against the shimmering wall.
It wouldn’t hold the demons for long, but he was sure it would be enough to let Gerard and his forces get inside the palace and take up defensive positions.
Birch reached out tentatively to the denarae platoon leader Brican, contacting another mortal for the first time in the same manner he’d once talked to Kaelus. The denarae called it kything, he knew, just as the immortals did, but while it was a special form of communication to them, the immortals thought of it no differently than they did speaking face-to-face. He was surprised how easy it was, and despite the denarae’s initial surprise, he quickly passed on Birch’s message that the barrier was safe to pass through and would protect them from the daemelans for a brief time.
Selti slowed long enough to force the doors wide enough to fit his massive body, then plunged into the palace in Danner’s wake. They quickly overtook the buggy, which Danner had already rejoined. The cavernous hallway was large enough for Selti to fly without feeling constricted, but Birch knew that wouldn’t last very long. Fortunately, Mephistopheles’s palace was not laid out in some circuitous fashion, and it had never been designed to withstand assault. It was almost a straight shot from the main entrance to the hall of the demon king.
The Gray paladin and his mount took the lead, and when he glanced back to check on them, Birch saw Danner and Brican throwing something from the back of the buggy every few seconds. He only had an instant to wonder before explosions shook the walls behind them and huge clouds of fire burst from the rooms they had just passed.
Birch smiled in approval at the destruction they were wreaking on the demon king’s palace.
The hallway they followed was wide and straight, but still Selti’s wings occasionally brushed the walls when he veered too far to one side. There were advantages to the grand scale demons insisted on using in their architecture, Birch mused.
Finally they reached the doors to the outer hall – the antechamber that led to Mephistopheles’s throne room. Danner leapt forward again with his angelic wings and threw an explosive charge at the gates. The doors were nearly ripped from their hinges by the force of the blast, and as the buggy sped through the resulting flames, Michael jammed on the brakes.
Selti flared his wings as he swooped into the room, and while the buggy spun to a halt, the gray dakkan dropped to the ground behind it and spread his wings for balance as he stopped.
The antechamber was draped with blood-red hangings, and on the black walls hung weapons of every type crafted on the Hellforge. The black-steel doors on the other side of the room were shut tight, but there was no doubt their presence was already known.
Within lay Mephistopheles, the King of Hell.
Chapter 40
Stone is brittle and unchanging.
Water is formless, yet conforms to what surrounds.
Air is ethereal, directionless, and too expansive to be of use.
If combat must have form, let it be fire…
… which is to say, no form at all.
- Cerel El’Zethera,
“Song of War”[40] (307 AL)
- 1 -
Uriel led the Archangels on a twisting path through the water of the city. Their wings propelled them swiftly through what they whimsically called Lake Medina, and they turned tight corners through underwater alleys as they maneuvered closer to the demon army. Like a giant aquatic snake, they wove through the streets until they were in position.
The elite angelic unit was spread down a long line of the demons led by Lotan, and at Uriel’s command they surged out of their hiding places and swept toward the demons’ unprotected flank. Long, thick ropes of steel blinked into existence stretched between pairs of angels – created as a manifestation of one’s āyus, and as they swept by overhead, they scooped up hundreds of demons and hauled them out of line and into the waiting waters of the lake. The Archangels plunged back into the water and regrouped as demons screamed and writhed in agony.
“Again, farther down the line,” Uriel told them and the Archangels followed him on another weave through the partially submerged city. The toppled buildings made maneuvering difficult at times, and they were often forced to detour around large obstructions rather than risk exposure by leaving the lake to go over them.
Twice more, the Archangels used their steel ropes to drag demons into the lake water, but on that third attempt flights of aerial demons attacked with a volley of cursed crossbow bolts, and the Archangels suffered heavy casualties from the unexpected attack. The angels healed quickly in the lake water, and only three of Uriel’s warriors were actually destroyed.
“Mikal,” Uriel contacted the other Seraph as they escaped through the city, “have Garet keep an eye out for airborne demons armed with crossbows. Any efforts to clear them from the sky would be greatly appreciated.”
“Acknowledged,” Mikal replied. “Can you reach the sixth empyrean? Johnalyn is pinned-down, and she needs your help.”
“On my way.”
Uriel passed word of their destination, which was adjacent to their current location. Sacrificing security for speed, the Archangels left the lake whenever their way was obstructed, and twice they crashed through groups of demons who were caught in their path. Uriel reached out with his mind and found the embattled Dominion.
“Johnalyn, the Archangels are inbound from the fifth empyrean. Where are you?”
“Holed up in a tower,” she replied. “They’ve cut us off from below so we can’t escape to the lake, and they’re breaking it down around our heads faster than we can break through to the water. There’s a swarm outside just waiting for us to try and escape.”
“We’ll be there in two minutes,” he told her quickly. “Can you hold that long?”
“We’ll have to. Hurry.”
Uriel pumped his wings and pushed the Archangels even harder. As they neared the besieged angels, he looked up through the water and saw a swarm of demons clamoring over a large tower. Bloodhawks and imps clustered above the windows and balconies, eagerly awaiting the first sign of an angel trying to flee the doomed structure. Damned souls tore away at the angelstone walls and dropped chunks of white stone into the lake below.
“Turiel, circle right,” he ordered. The Cherub had taken the place of Camael as Uriel’s lieutenant, and while he was capable, the Archangel commander keenly missed his long-time companion.
He chose his fate, Uriel thought to himself.
“Attack!” Uriel barked. The Archangels had no sooner cleared the surface of the water than they unleashed a volley of arrows that riddled the creatures clinging to the building. Most of those struck weren’t destroyed outright, but they fell into the lake below and were quickly consumed by the holy water.
Turiel led a charge at the demons hovering around the building and chased most of them off on one side, which allowed Johnalyn to escape with her force of Parasim. The angels streamed out of every unguarded doorway and window with Uriel providing covering fire from the water below. Johnalyn led her angels down to meet Uriel, firing arrows behind them all the way, and Turiel quickly followed once they were all safe.
Satan's Gambit (The Barrier War Book 3) Page 57
