The Demon Shroud

by T. A. Miles

  Seeing him was not really Alsaide’s concern—in fact, he would rather not. But he felt compelled to linger and see if he would actually come. After all that had happened to him at the tower …after all that Alsaide had allowed ill-minded soldiers to do to him and all that Alsaide had promised would be done to him, he wondered if Korsten would have the nerve. He’d found a way to escape the tower when Alsaide believed him near dead, and believed that all the Master would have to do would be to collect his broken body. Obviously, he had found his way back to Vassenleigh and recovered, but it seemed to Alsaide that he should be scarred and terrified at the mere idea of being so near to his enemies again.

  Korsten wasn’t coming, but maybe it wasn’t over fear. “He’s not coming,” Alsaide finally spoke, continuing to push on the hangnail on his thumb with his index finger. “He’s ignoring your invitation.”

  “He would come no sooner for you,” Leodyn said, which caught Alsaide off guard.

  “Of course …he wouldn’t come for me.” Alsaide shifted in his seat, his chin firming uncomfortably. He brought the afflicted thumb to his teeth.

  “Do you think he might have come directly, if I had mentioned your father?” Leodyn asked.

  Alsaide paused, allowing himself to be more aware of the movement of the demon lord in the corner of his vision. He didn’t know if he preferred that they stay still or move about. Neither state seemed to be an accurate depiction of their mood at any given time. He considered leaving, but didn’t know if he would be permitted to do so.

  “You don’t answer,” Leodyn said. “Is it because you know that he would have left at once, owed to your lack of charm and grace?”

  “It wasn’t my presentation alone,” Alsaide insisted, giving up on the hangnail for the moment. He wished to return to his room now. And yet, he continued to speak. “The Master already had given his ultimatum at the time of Korsten’s capture, and made it known where he stands. He presents himself a monster.”

  “You’re very bold when he’s away,” Leodyn noted. “Perhaps I’ll tell him.”

  Alsaide sent a sidelong glare at the demon lord. “You’re not going to tell him. You’re afraid of him, too.”

  Afterward, he stood and walked himself to the nearest of the room’s two doors.

  Leodyn’s hand arrived before he could reach them, and pressed Alsaide to the wall. The rest of the demon lord followed the movement through after the fact, and Leodyn’s eerily handsome face was directly in Alsaide’s when he said, “I am not the one afraid, child. There are six of us ancient enough to rule, and I am one of them! Your sire was foolish enough to allow me to build here unchallenged while he hunts for a myth and stalks outside of the living tomb Ashwin has encased himself within. I will lead the strongest army, and when it is over, I will be the one to rule all of us. And my consort will hold the beauty of the ancients—the face of our oppressors, but he will be pinned beneath my will …not Renmyr’s.”

  There were arguments and contradictions swimming the front of Alsaide’s mind instantaneously, but he dared not speak them. He suspected Leodyn could take them, if he wanted to, but he did not. Instead, he watched him …challenging the thoughts to form vocally or to even become more coherent in Alsaide’s mind.

  It couldn’t happen. Alsaide was too distracted by his eyes, which bored into him with cold intensity, their color ill and shot with dark lines of blood. They made him feel sick, and like he would become lost forever in a different part of Hell even than what he already knew.

  Leodyn grew bored with his silence, eventually. He eased his hand off of Alsaide’s collar region, allowing his fingers to slide over Alsaide’s jaw and lower face. And then he pushed him aside.

  Alsaide stumbled, but managed to catch himself. He did not bother to look back at Leodyn, but carried himself promptly from the room. It occurred to him as he raced down the hall, what actually needed to be done about Korsten.

  •—•

  The fortress was more extensive than Merran had anticipated. Thankfully, it was largely free of inhabitants, which inspired the three of them to explore at a minor distance from one another with the hope of coming upon something relevant to their search sooner. Merran didn’t doubt that agents of Morenne or the Vadryn were somewhere on the premises, and in greater force and display than the minor creature they had come upon in the first set of rooms. They knew for certain there was at least one madman or possessed man present. It was incredibly unlikely that he was living in such isolation, and on top of that, the bloodied room was not the location of an ancient event, but one relatively recent. The blood had scarcely had time to discolor.

  Merran presumed that the room had been used for interrogation or experimentation, given the nature of what might have been happening in the region. A large portion of what was happening seemed to have centered around use of magic. It was magic that required the artifacts left behind by its earliest practitioners, predating even the founding of the Vassenleigh Order. In a way, that meant that it was not particularly strong on its own, but that scarcely mattered, if the ability to augment was readily at hand. That augmentation was fouling what was already foul. Patriarchs Ceth and Eisleth would both be interested in what had been witnessed thus far.

  In spite of that, Merran was against becoming too involved with the rooms themselves, unless they appeared to lead to a prison or something similar in size and functionality, that would be able to hold an abundance of people. Still, doors were tried and rooms looked in on periodically, even if only to better assess what the current area may contain. The present corridor was somewhat rounded. The door among several that Merran tried, opened onto a mezzanine. The balcony level was one of three which wrapped a cylindrical space. As it had been throughout much of the underground fortress, the richness of the décor was impressive to the point of cloying.

  Walking to the railing and looking down, Merran saw an open floor populated with sparse benches, consoles, and plants that were hardy enough to exist within the atmosphere of the Vadryn’s taint, else they carried some taint of their own. The lighting was low, provided by encased lamps spaced distantly one to the next upon the railing. It appeared that they were mounted mainly at the points of access to and from the mezzanine; staircases and doorways.

  The doorways were all on the exterior wall and undoubtedly some of them led back to the corridor. Some of them may have led to rooms. Studies or parlors perhaps …maybe bedrooms, if this had once been the main residence of whatever family or group of people had lived here. Three centuries were not enough years for Merran to know much about the relics of the Old Kingdom, which had been relics even to the Rottherlens Merran had been familiar with. It was all referred to as the Old Kingdom, though the reference was to both a recent period both and another that was far in the past, nearer to Ashwin’s early era if it didn’t precede him altogether. It was during that very ancient period when many of the grand ruins were intact and functioning. They had populations to justify them.

  “Do you think these rooms might be used as cells?” Tahlia suggested, entering through the door he had left open behind him.

  It was a good suggestion. “Let’s check them,” Merran replied.

  He stepped back from the railing and sought out the nearest door. Korsten was already at it, cautiously turning the latch and peering into the darkened space. Merran went to him and put his hand on the door at the level of Korsten’s shoulder, pushing the door open further so that they both could have a look.

  Since Merran had the door, Korsten sent a Lantern in. Light swelled into a space that was wider than deep, and which soon met with another Lantern on the far side, where Tahlia had entered from the next door down.

  A long table and chairs at the center suggested that the room may have been used for dining or meetings. There was little else to it, barring the staple décor.

  Merran, Korsten, and Tahlia met each other in the middle, to ensure that th
ey had taken a closer look, but there was really nothing to be found.

  “I suspect this may be what we find behind each door,” Merran said. “And that we’re only going deeper into an already dangerous situation.”

  “Right,” Tahlia agreed, even though she wasn’t ready to turn around. “Shall we go downstairs anyway? Maybe there’s something of better interest on the main floor.”

  They agreed on that for the time being, and returned to the mezzanine. The staircases were accessed at the railing along the room’s interior, which channeled downward systematically, until a person arrived at the lowest landing, where two branches converged onto a wide final series of steps. All of levels had been carpeted. The carpet finished out on a floor of polished stone. Stepping off, their footsteps resonated throughout the space.

  Merran walked toward the center, then looked up, toward a chandelier he had not previously noticed. It was embedded high in the room’s dome-shaped ceiling. The piece let off negligible light, enough to cast decorative shadows onto the dome. Studying the shadows made him wonder if it was actually the presence of the Vadryn which suppressed the lamps and if, without their aura, the hall would be much brighter.

  “Have you ever seen anything quite like this?” Korsten asked when he arrived beside Merran.

  “No. I would not have imagined a stronghold like this existed before now.”

  Korsten’s finger’s entwined with his own, drawing Merran’s gaze down. He looked upon Korsten’s distinct profile for a moment, then firmed his hold of his partner’s hand before slipping away from him to continue the investigation.

  It was in scanning the outlying reaches of the main floor that Merran descried the placement of what could only have been considered odd decorative choices, even if Merran had not seen them before. At the sight of one dark iron post, he looked for another. When he found it, he sought the next, and the next, until he was able to confirm that they surrounded the entire space.

  He pointed them out to Korsten, on the chance that he hadn’t already noticed what Merran was looking at. “I was expecting to find this sooner.”

  “And so, you have,” someone said from the stairs.

  Looking to the second level, a man with dark hair was visible. His attire was simple, if a tad uniform in nature, suggesting that he might have been associated with an army—Morenne’s undoubtedly. That said, he didn’t appear armed and he donned no armor. It made the outfitting seem incomplete somehow, and it was creating a thorn at the back of Merran’s mind.

  “Who is this bastard?” Tahlia asked from not too many paces away.

  Merran had no answer and if Korsten did, he wasn’t giving it.

  “Endmark, do you think?” Tahlia wondered.

  And now Korsten said, “No.”

  Before she could ask how Korsten knew, the man started down the stairs. “My name is Shalex.”

  While the man was talking, Korsten said, “He’s a Morennish general.”

  Merran assumed the name was one that Korsten had heard while a prisoner.

  “I’ve been assigned the task of escorting the red to Lord Endmark,” the man was saying. “His hospitality grows thin.”

  Niceties were precursor to one thing only as far as Merran was concerned. He drew his sword. His fellow priests armed themselves as well, cued by the same essential understanding as Merran.

  Shalex continued down the stairs. As he stepped into the sphere of their Lanterns, previously hidden aspects of his form rippled into notice. It was the filmy extension of a growing demon.

  “Strike it on three sides?” Tahlia asked, poised to act upon receiving confirmation.

  Merran provided it with a nod, and they spread out, leaving Korsten at the center.

  When Shalex arrived at the main floor, he barreled forward, his demonic limbs coming fuller into view as they bent to carry him, not unlike a spider. The dark, overlong appendages were only four, but he seemed to still have use of his human arms and legs, which moved in coordination with the others while he was carried forward—and when he avoided the Blast Merran sent at him.

  Korsten was the demon’s goal, and he braced himself to counter the brunt of the initial assault. Megrim was the spell of choice, and it sent Shalex listing to one side instantly. The demon took a series of less coordinated steps, attempting to compensate for the sudden loss of orientation, but it wasn’t enough to bring the creature down. Its speed was alarming, but Tahlia managed to meet it with a Wind spell as it was curving back toward the center of the room, which succeeded in knocking the demon over.

  Merran was quick with a second Blast, but the beast rolled and was soon standing over the spell as it raced toward the edges of the room. Furniture was decimated upon impact. The Vadryn was making its way toward Korsten once again.

  Korsten utilized a Barrier to ward off Shalex’s attack, then engaged the man that was yet connected to the demon. Using a bench as a platform, he vaulted himself to the core body’s height and drove his blade into it.

  Shalex gave an abbreviated howl and Korsten braced his foot upon the man’s chest in order to gain leverage in both leaping away from him and also in reclaiming his weapon. Tahlia took advantage of the demon’s injured pause to slice at its extended limbs with the dagger-like blades mounted on her staff.

  Merran conjured Blast for the third time, and was finally able to connect. The spell struck Shalex’s side, tearing away flesh and searing it at the same time. The demon and man roared in unison, filling the chamber with a low vibration that shook the glass encasing the lower lanterns.

  It was then, as if shaken from the upper levels by the vibrations—though they could not have been so strong—that a form fell from the highest mezzanine. It was surreal to watch the dead limbs of a human figure splay in the air as it descended, striking the floor with a crack that was swiftly followed by further rending sounds as Shalex began to devour it with his Vadryn appendages.

  “Bring it down quickly!” Merran shouted to Korsten and Tahlia.

  The reminder brought all of them out of their momentary shock.

  Merran cast a line of Fire toward the demon, by way of the body it was attempting to gain fresh strength and mass from. Tahlia began hacking at the appendages that were planted upon the floor, and Korsten cast a Barrier directly overhead, one that was wide enough to catch the next corpse that was dropped down by the unseen individual above them.

  Shalex protested the Fire by barreling through it, away from Tahlia’s assault, though it appeared to have acquired a limp for her efforts. While he moved, Shalex broke partially out of his human skin, revealing fresh, darkened mass beneath it, especially at his torso, neck, and head. The deforming addition also formed a second mouth, which Merran could see plainly when Shalex lowered his head, like a bull elk to finish out his charge.

  Merran stood his ground, holding one hand out, conjuring Blast. He withheld it until the rank of the beast was upon him, stinking of the rotting life it used to grow itself. The mouth was a circle of irregular teeth, all sharp enough to tack and rend.

  Letting go the spell, Merran turned his face away from the immense light that spread before him. The brunt of the spell engulfed Shalex’s upper body, the force driving him across the floor. Tahlia dropped down to avoid collision, then swiftly rose and ran toward Merran in order to maintain distance from the demon, even as it careened into the wall, dark appendages outstretched and flailing.

  When Tahlia arrived beside Merran, she turned, staff in both hands, ready to face it again when it rose, which it assuredly would. Already, its Vadryn limbs were recovering and finding purchase.

  “Korsten.” Merran said his name without taking his eyes from Shalex.

  “I’m all right,” Korsten let them know.

  “He’s holding two bodies up presently,” Tahlia informed.

  “We’re going to burn it,” Merran decided, since Tahlia seemed
to be favoring Fire presently. With brown as her focus color, it was undoubtedly one of her prominent strengths where spells were concerned.

  “Right,” Tahlia acknowledged. She took one hand from her staff, and began to make the simple gestures required for the spell.

  Merran paced his conjuring with hers.

  Shalex was rising, righting himself like an overturned insect. His core was mutilated, but that made no difference. The man had been slowly slipping away for some time, without a doubt. The demon had likely recovered some of its strength just from absorbing the aspects of the man’s form that it no longer required.

  Now the beast had a sharp, skeletal head, slick with Vadryn flesh. The eyes were asymmetrical, offset by the placement of multiple mouths, all of which were open as it roared and came across the room.

  The lumbering horror was met with a wall of Fire, thick enough to encompass most of it. The fast-burning spellfire ate through it with alacrity. The shrieking of the beast was enough to incite pain, but it was tolerated while the combined spells were maintained. Embers of sickly green floated upward with black ash, collecting against the underside of Korsten’s Barrier.

  When it became apparent that the beast had been reduced to what amounted to death for a demon, Merran let go the spell and Tahlia did as well. Shalex’s remains continued to burn, and Korsten finally dropped his Barrier, subsequently dropping the corpses meant to feed the Vadryn into the Fire.

  The white-orange flames dissipated on their own, having consumed the immediate contamination that was a demon.

  Nineteen

  Tahlia found a bench to sit on after the confrontation with the abomination. The beast had been unlike any transformation she had ever witnessed one of the demons perform. Their most malleable state was in spirit, separated from their vessel. At times, they were given some semblance of physical form from the blood they had absorbed off their most recent host or whatever victim was at hand. But this was not that. They seemed to have found a way to utilize more than blood …to devour and absorb nearly an entire body, and to do it within moments.