“What were you doing with the circle?” Necin asked.
“Leaving a little present for my old nemesis. He’s in for quite a surprise when he gates in,” Balderon said with a smile.
*
Esselles received Renamir’s relay of the demon’s connection and was amazed at how bright the world was through the demon’s eyes. Everything was also strangely colored. He found it unsettling to be able to see himself through the demon’s eyes. What was even more unsettling was that he could see his own lifeblood pulsing beneath his skin. Most of his skin was a bright yellow but his blood vessels showed up as a brighter shade, fully white along his neck.
He also discovered what it was to see the world with a second sight. Overlaid on top of the demon’s normal sight was its magical sight. Esselles could see the magical auras around the sword he carried. There were also strong auras radiating from his chest, where he wore the pendant although the pendant itself was not visible. He could also see a glow over his shoulder, which he assumed was the disk and club. On Renamir, a bright aura leaked through his cloak, roughly where Esselles had seen him tuck the staff. Two of his rings and a chain on his neck also had magical auras. And he could hear its mental battle with someone in the distance, working to keep them from coming directly here.
Esselles’ brain swam as the demon reached out into the ethereal plane. It folded the space around them until they were in a spherical pocket, the demon world going dim, as if seen through smoky glass. He then pushed the sphere away from the ground and up into the night sky.
Unlike on his previous trip, Esselles could feel air circulating through the sphere. Following the source of the breeze, he saw a small glowing portion of air in front Renamir, between his two hands.
As before, the stars began to pass faster and faster. Through the link, he heard the demon inform Renamir that the barrier was up ahead.
Renamir let his circulation spell drop and reached out with his mind. He sent a focused beam of energy ahead of the sphere and they punched through the barrier with minimal resistance. Once safely through, Renamir reformed his circulation spell while the demon continued to propel the ethereal pocket through the void.
As their world appeared in front of them in the void, Renamir guided him over the ocean towards the land of Ostar and a cloud-covered keep to the north and west of the Bracken Woods.
This will do, Renamir said as he slapped the edge of the sphere, passing through it as he did so. Outside the sphere, Esselles could see him falling through the air.
But he did not have time to continue watching his fall. The demon let out a roar and attacked Esselles. Lying scumbag humans, it screamed into his head.
Esselles wanted to answer, “It wasn’t me,” but had to focus on keeping the demon off of him. He was struck hard on his left shoulder, but was able to bring his sword up to block a second strike. The sword flared blue and cleaved straight through the wrist, severing the hand.
The demon howled in pain and shot and energy bolt straight at Esselles’ chest with his remaining hand. His body went rigid, but the opalescence shed most of the energy. However, it hit the edge of the sphere and not only disrupted whatever Renamir had done to trap them, but caused the sphere to disintegrate too. Esselles felt his stomach drop as he immediately began a free fall. Still holding his sword in both hands, the wind immediately whipped him such that he was aimed towards the ground, sword first, with his legs flapping in the wind above him.
The demon, falling below him, spread its wings to right itself. But it was the worst move it could make. Esselles slammed into it, sword first, and the force of his freefall drove the sword through to the hilt. Energy and ichor poured out of the wound as they continued to tumble through the air.
Esselles twisted the sword back and forth as they tumbled, opening the wound wider. He braced his feet against one of its wings and pushed the sword laterally around its body. With the added force of the tumbling, he succeeded in nearly cutting the demon in half. He grinned in ferocious delight.
But his delight was short lived. As he continued to tumble, he caught a glimpse of the ocean, quickly rising up to meet him. He braced his feet against the demon and pushed away as hard as he could, pulling the sword through its body at the same time. He was able to launch himself away from the demon, but he lost his grip on the sword and it went flying.
He thought back to his days of jumping off cliffs into the river and immediately worked on twisting his body so he was positioned feet first. He’d just crossed his feet when he struck the surface of the ocean.
Pain shot up through his legs and water slammed into his arms. His breath exploded from his lungs and his head was awash with stars. He was afraid he’d pass out. He jack-knifed in an attempt to return to the surface, but quickly lost all orientation. He panicked momentarily before remembering an old sailor’s trick. He stopped moving and watched which way the bubbles rose. He followed them up.
It seemed like forever, but he finally reached the surface. He gulped in a breath of air before falling under the water again. He propelled himself back to the surface and treaded water to remain there. The salt burned in his wounds and stung his eyes. His ears were ringing from the impact and his feet and knees screamed out in pain. But he was alive.
He spun around to see where he was in the ocean. He judged himself to be about a half mile off shore. He believed he could see the top of the towers of Point Blank on the horizon to the southwest. Completing his scan, he saw his newfound weapon bobbing on the top of the waves. He swam over to it and grabbed on, thankful that the strange black wood was extremely buoyant. He pulled the club under his armpits and began kicking toward shore.
I lost the sword, he swore to himself. And Renamir. He swore some more. But at least I gutted the demon. He looked for it but there was no sign of the body, although he thought the froth on some of the waves was a little more green than normal.
Fifteen minutes later, his hips and knees were screaming in agony from the pain of impact and the exertion of swimming, but he seemed no closer to the shore. His left leg could barely kick anymore and his right leg was not far behind. He tried to block the pain and continue on, but he was really struggling.
Suddenly, a stray thought brushed his mind. It took him a moment to realize the thought was not his own. When he concentrated on it, he saw a clear mental image of himself swimming, but as seen from about ten feet below the surface of the water.
Could Renamir’s spell still be going? he wondered. But then he realized Renamir would not be below him. Could it now be attached to someone else? The thought struck him as funny as he realized no one could be swimming below him for that long. Then, behind him he heard a blast of air.
He spun around, but did not see anyone.
Who are you? he asked down the link. He did not receive an intelligible answer back. Who are you? he asked again. Please, answer me.
He was startled by a bottle-nosed dolphin as it broke the surface and began clicking back at him. He received a vague impression of curiosity through the link.
Help me, please, he pleaded to the dolphin.
The dolphin’s response was to dive back under the water then leap high out of the water. It did this a few times before returning in front of Esselles, squeaking and clicking.
It dawned on Esselles that the dolphin did not understand him. So instead of speaking to it, he formed a mental image of the dolphin pulling him towards shore. At first it appeared this had the same amount of success as his original request – the dolphin dove under the surface again – but when it came up under Esselles he realized it must have understood. The dolphin came under him so quickly, Esselles almost missed grabbing hold of the dorsal fin.
With a few powerful strokes of its tail, the dolphin was speeding towards shore with Esselles hanging on, trying to avoid drinking too much of the briny wake. The dolphin, apparently realizing it could communicate back mentally, began sending Esselles mental images of days playing in the sun with other dolphi
ns and of days evading the gray sharks that infested these waters.
This day is something else, Esselles thought. Dive head first through three gates, kill a demon, travel to its home world and back, work with my enemy, kill a second demon, and finish it off by listening to a dolphin telling me about his life. If so many hadn’t died this day, I could almost laugh. That brought back the memory of the fact that the emperor was dead and Esselles’ mind slipped into a deep depression that the dolphin’s happy thoughts could not break. He also thought of his father and the strangely prophetic dream.
His reverie was broken by a strange crooning from the dolphin. He realized it had picked up his emotions and was lamenting the loss with Esselles. The strange sympathy broke his depression and Esselles smiled.
As they neared shore, the dolphin slowed down and slipped below the surface, allowing Esselles to float free. He used the club as a floatation device again and kicked toward shore. The dolphin popped out of the water and held itself above the surface with strong beats of its powerful tail. As it traveled across the water, it clicked farewell to Esselles.
Esselles formed a mental image of bright sunshine and large schools of fish, hoping it would work for ‘good days and happy hunting.’
The dolphin clicked once more and then eased back into the water. He could detect the dolphin’s mind for only a few minutes before it passed out of range. He turned his attention to the shoreline and swam the last twenty feet or so until he could walk onto shore.
He struggled with the undertow and finally reached the beach, his clothes now full of the sand that the waves carried as they crashed on the shore. He crawled up onto the beach and collapsed. After a few minutes, he gathered enough strength to stagger further up the beach and climb onto the rocks that were above the high water mark. He found a large flat rock and stretched out in the afternoon sun. Though he knew he should find help, his body ached for rest and he gave into it, letting his worries fade into the blank world of exhaustion.
Chapter Twenty-two
“I have no additional news on Hawkblood, sire,” Vanier said. “Based on Balderon’s report, he and a companion traveled to the demon’s home world and then gated out in the company of a demon. Strange behavior for an allegedly innocent guard.”
“But why would he have killed the demon attacker first? And Balderon thinks the gate he left through might have returned here, right?” the emperor asked his chief of security.
“That is correct, sire,” Vanier answered.
“And as far as we can tell, he has got my sword with him?”
“Every indication is that he does.”
Bracconius sat forward, leaning on his desk. “The sword has a magical device that allows me to recall it to me. While I am sure I cannot recall it from this distance, I was wondering if Balderon can use it to locate the sword.”
“An interesting thought, sire,” Vanier said. “I will bring it to the lord mage and see what he says.”
“Thank you, Vanier. Keep me informed of any progress.”
“I will, sire,” Vanier said as he bowed and left the room.
Bracconius looked about the room, taking in the thirty oak and velvet chairs around the large, carved mahogany table. While they were all empty now, in a short while, they would be filled with barons. They would be meeting to ratify the new successors to their rank, a grim task following the events of the previous day.
They were still no closer to determining who was behind the assault and whether Esselles Hawkblood was a willing participant or somehow an innocent embroiled in the plot. The fact he rushed to the castle to warn of the impostor suggested the latter, but the fact that he had been walking together with whomever had gated to and from the demon’s home world suggested the former.
Balderon’s search there had been largely fruitless, as had the numerous mundane searches of the surrounding areas. No one had seen Hawkblood. Wherever his return gate had gone, it was not here.
The demon and the assailant’s subsequent travel to the demon home world was a further puzzle. It was Vanier’s hypothesis that it was a demon prince involved, perhaps an old ally of Malustreure. It would explain a lot, but it did not explain all of Hawkblood’s actions. Again, why would Hawkblood have slain the demon if he were part of the plot? It made no sense. But neither did him going to the demon home world and working with another human and a demon once there.
His musings were interrupted by the barons’ arrival. They filed into the room in twos and threes and took their seats around the table, but there were four empty seats that should not have been vacant.
And that highlighted one of the things that bothered Bracconius about this whole situation. A lot of good men had died and yet everything moved along as normal. The barons continued to squabble and fight for territory as they played their political games, trying to wrest more power on the council. What bothered him the most were the barons who were using their fellow barons’ deaths for political gains.
The worst of the bunch was Baron Malik, who, using the claims from an old mutual defense treaty, was trying to absorb Baron Toliver’s estates into his own. As Toliver had died with no heirs, it appeared that Malik would have his way, as the treaty was fairly clear on the issue. Though the emperor had the power to override such treaties, he was reluctant to do so for if there was no faith in the law, it would not be upheld by those it was designed to protect.
By now, all of the barons had taken their seats and Bracconius called the meeting to order. The bickering soon followed.
Six hours later, Malik had his much coveted land, however, Bracconius had been able to win a small concession. Toliver’s keep was awarded to his fiancé and her family as well as an annual payment from the tithes collected on the former Toliver lands. Malik had fought even that, but eventually acquiesced under the condition that he be allowed to maintain state offices there.
When Bracconius raised a glass to toast the end of the meeting, it was a sincere toast.
*
Esselles woke up shivering. It was dark outside and he had a momentary irrational fear that he was back in the demon home world. But a dark blue sky littered with familiar stars quickly reassured him. He rubbed his arms as he sat up on the large, flat rock.
His knees and hips ached still from the impact with the water and in the moonlight he could see the discoloration from broken blood vessels on the underside of his arms. He picked up his strange new weapon and slapped it against his hand a few times to get the feel of it. It felt a lot easier to use here as compared to in the other world where everything was twice as heavy.
He climbed down from the rock and began walking up to the road. When he reached the road he looked north and south for any signs of buildings or movements. He turned left, which should be the direction of Point Blank, and limped down the road.
False dawn was upon him when he recognized a cleft in the bluffs above the road. It was the road that led to Harrel’s and Tarra’s farm. He turned down it, a spring in his walk for the first time in miles.
The sun had climbed into the sky by the time he reached the first cultivated fields of their farm. He walked another half-mile before spotting someone in the fields. He called out.
Harrel came running over. “Where’s Tarra? What happened? What’s wrong?”
Esselles could feel Harrel’s concern through the remains of Renamir’s spell, somehow still active. “Nothing’s wrong,” Esselles said, trying to calm him down. “Well, nothing is wrong with Tarra,” he amended.
“What do you mean?” Harrel asked, obviously anxious. “What happened? Where is she?”
“Let me explain,” Esselles said, sitting down on the ground. “Or at least try to,” he added. “We made it to Ostar fine. Last I saw Tarra, she was heading to the market square to find help. I was headed into the castle. I told her to leave without me if I didn’t make it back by evening. That’s the last I saw of her.”
“So where is she?” Harrel asked. “How’d you get back here ahead of he
r?”
“That is an even longer story, one that I don’t care to go into fully at the moment because I am not sure I completely understand what happened. Suffice it to say I was magically transported to the coast, not too far from here. I recognized your farm road and came here. I’m exhausted, starving, and dying of thirst, not necessarily in that order. I was wondering if I could prevail upon your hospitality again.”
“Most certainly,” Harrel said. “Wait here. I’ve got a horse and wagon nearby. I’ll fetch it and bring us both to the house.”
Esselles watched Harrel walk off and return minutes later on a horse drawn wagon. Harrel jumped down to help Esselles climb up. Once in the wagon, Harrel reached underneath for a water skin and handed it to Esselles to slake his thirst. When they reached the house Sylia came out to greet them.
“You look terrible,” she said to Esselles as they stopped the wagon.
“Thanks,” he said dryly. “Just what a guy likes to hear from a pretty woman.”
“I’m sorry,” she said with a blush. “But you do look awful. What happened to you?”
Esselles smiled. “Everything from battling demons to plummeting into the ocean,” he said.
“Now you have my curiosity piqued,” Harrel said. “I know you said you didn’t care to go into the story, but I’m dying to know what happened.”
“Let’s get him cleaned up, first,” Sylia said.
“And fed?” Esselles asked.
“And fed,” Sylia repeated with a smile. She and Harrel helped him out of the wagon and led him into the house.
“My clothes are in there,” Harrel said, pointing to his room. “Help yourself.”
Esselles changed into clean clothes and returned to the kitchen to find a bowl of stew, a hunk of bread, and a mug of wine awaiting him. He drank the wine greedily and Sylia refilled it. He then devoured the stew and bread while Harrel and Sylia watched.
“So, what happened?” Harrel asked as Esselles soaked up the broth with a piece of the bread.
Demonified (Hawkblood Chronicles Book 1) Page 25
