Refuge: Book 5: Angels & Demons

by Doug Dandridge

  Jackie stumbled back, pain and numbness warring at the edge of her sensations. She knew she was bleeding profusely, and that if she didn't get herself together she would be an easy target for any elf that decided to take her head. She wasn't sure if that would kill her, but she would take odds on it doing so.

  She let herself fall back as the Ellala drew again. Izabella was sheltering again behind her shield, the arrow still transfixing her cheeks and spilling copious amounts of blood. Gregor still had his hammer in the way as he stomped forward, ready to take the fight to the enemy. Jackie grabbed the shaft of the arrow and broke it in half, pulling the broken end still in her neck through and dropping it to the ground.

  "Down," yelled a dwarf, and Jackie let herself fall to the ground, her hands going to both sides of the neck wound and pressing down, concentrating on letting it heal.

  A flurry of crossbow bolts hit the Ellala, ripping through armor and dropping many of the archers to the ground. The dwarves were not natural bowmen like the elves, but they were smart enough to know that they might need to match their enemies in long-range fire. Every third dwarf had a powerful cranked crossbow across their backs. The weapons were shorter range than the longbows of the elves, and were slower to fire, but they could punch a bolt through all but the most powerful of enchanted armor.

  Jackie could already feel her neck healing, the arteries reattaching, the muscle fibers coming back together. She didn't even think of her cheek. A look over at Izabella showed that she, too, had broken the shaft and pulled the arrow out. The Pole woman had a nasty but still superficial wound for one of their kind, and was ready for action.

  I need something else, thought Jackie, sheathing Ice and picking up one of the discarded shields of a slain dwarf. She came back to her feet, still a bit woozy, but realizing that she needed to get back into the fight.

  Gregor was already at the Ellala archer line, his hammer sweeping out to take down multiple enemy with each strike. He moved his bulky body faster than the elves, more agile, and they had trouble avoiding him. As long as he stayed in among them, he was safe from arrows since the enemy was more likely to kill their own than the immortal.

  Soon he was joined by the two women, now both with shields. They smashed with shields, sliced and thrust with swords, and soon the Ellala line had broken, most lying dead on the ground, the others running for all they were worth.

  Now magic entered the fight, a bolt of lightning coming in from above them. The inertial field had no effect on the magic, and it struck directly onto the three immortals. It was enough energy to incinerate a score of beings of human mass. The lightning crackled out from the strike, into the dwarves. A few fell dead, but most of the energy had been expended, and the majority only received a nasty shock from which they soon recovered. But not before the Ellala footmen were again on the move, running for the dwarven line.

  * * *

  "Get those guns around," yelled Lt. General Walter Delgado, standing just behind the big cannon they had been using to try to blow down the gate.

  The general could feel the fear coming off the men. He couldn't blame them. His hands were shaking as he spoke, and it was taking major effort to keep the quiver out of his voice. They were trying to fire on a creature of unimaginable size. Either of the dragons could grab a dozen people in a single claw and stuff them all down its maw. They weren't even sure if these cannon would do anything to the creatures.

  The red and the gold were chest-to-chest, claws tearing at thick scales, gouging at the flesh underneath. They both struggled to get their teeth into each other, biting at faces with the intent of getting the neck of the other in a crushing grip. Both had large rips in their wings, and as Delgado watched the red ripped four more gashes in the right wing of the gold.

  "Hurry up," he yelled, using rage to control his fear. He wouldn't have been surprised if the cannon shot just bounced off and attracted the attention of the monster.

  "We're loaded, sir," said the captain who was the battery officer. "Are you sure you want to do this, sir? I can't guarantee these popguns are going to do anything to that red bastard."

  Delgado looked at the man, who had been a lieutenant of artillery in the German army. His calling this artillery ‘popguns’ was not far off the mark. They could barely get one of the twenty-kilo rounds up to two hundred meters a second, versus over a thousand MPS for the tank guns they had brought with them.

  If only we had the human mages with us, thought the general. They had several, but not the two they really needed; Drake and Heidle. Both were meeting with the Dark Elf mages, learning some of their secrets of using the night as a weapon. Both had been sent for and would be here any moment, or so he thought. Any moment might not be soon enough.

  "Aim for the head," growled Delgado.

  "I can't guarantee I won't hit the gold, sir. They're just moving too much."

  Delgado looked at the man for a second, then at the battle still going on. The angels were beating the demons, but the demon god was looking like it was getting the upper hand on the life god. Their heads were constantly moving as they tried to get the better of the other with massive skulls colliding, horns ripping, and teeth going for the grip that would lead to the kill.

  "Then hit it in the body. As soon as it has its back to us, let loose."

  "Sir, I can't..."

  "I understand that you can't guarantee it will do anything. But we have to do something. So as soon as you get a target, open fire. That's an order."

  The captain nodded, looking clearly unhappy. He ran from gun to gun, giving instruction to all six crews in the battery. He stopped at the side, looking at the battling giants, his hand in the air.

  The monsters were really going at it. The gold seemed to have the more serious wounds, and as they watched the red got a grip on the neck of its opponent. The gold screeched in agony, struggling, unable to get away, and the red bit down hard. The scales resisted, but the teeth of the other monster were intended to cut through that armor, and blood started flowing from the wounds. But the red had turned its back to the cannons, and Delgado looked over at the battery captain, wondering why the man was waiting.

  The man was waiting because the crews of a couple of weapons were still maneuvering their weapons to get a good aim. The two gun captains yelled out when they had a target, and the captain shouted out the command as he lowered his hand.

  The six guns went off within seconds of each other. The steam hissed/banged and the balls flew out, slow enough that the naked eye could mark their progress. At first, Delgado was worried that the balls were going to miss, but the officer had aimed them well. All six balls hit hard into the back of the dragon.

  "Shit," Delgado yelled as every ball hit and bounced away. He wasn't even sure if it had caused any internal damage. From the way the enormous beast turned and looked at the guns he didn't think so. The monster started to take a step toward them, forgetting its victim for the moment. Which might have been its last mistake, as the gold brought its head up and struck like a snake, its jaws catching the neck, teeth at the throat, biting down with all of the strength in its body.

  The red went into a frenzy of motion, realizing that it was in trouble. It attempted to bring its claws into play, but only one set could reach. The other three were underneath it as the gold pressed down. The gold had no such problem, and it raked the red with its hind claws while its front grabbed the neck and held on.

  "Great job, Captain," said the general. It had actually gone better than expected. He was hoping that the balls would have caused more damage, but even doing no damage, they had aided their ally enough.

  The Demon God was not about to give up. It bucked and twisted, trying to get its neck out of the mouth of the gold, but she had bitten deep and her huge teeth were locked in place, digging deeper every moment. That was when even more of the demons appeared, jumping on the gold and trying to rescue their champion.

  * * *

  Jackie felt the tingle of the electricity flo
wing through her body. Just a tingle, nothing more, as bolts arced around her. It had to be magical, she thought. Magical energies wouldn't affect her; though real lightning would hit her with the same force it would anyone else. She might not die from the exposure that would kill any other mortal creature, but she would at least be incapacitated.

  The first of the Ellala infantry to get to her were surprised that they were still alive. Surprise turned to shock as her blade reached out three times in a second, taking a life with each flick. Paul swung his hammer from the side, sweeping a quartet of Ellala off their feet, two dead as they flew away, the other pair injured. And Izabella thrust with the skill of a sword master, something Jackie knew the woman was, stabbing through throat after throat.

  Still, it looked like they were about to be overwhelmed, and the dwarves were struggling to keep fighting. Jackie was thinking of ordering a retreat back to the tunnels, where they could limit the front the Ellala were attacking on, and give most of their troops a rest when a human voice yelled out in French.

  "We are here. The day is saved."

  Scores of Frenchmen ran up, armored in three quarter plate, long swords and shields in their hands. With them were several hundred of the Dark Elves, all in their fine chain, twin weapons whirling in front of them.

  The Dark Elves had the same features as their surface cousins, only their skins were jet black, their hair from snow white to light red. Their eyes were also red, and they squinted in the light. Even though it was overcast with black clouds, the ambient light was still painful to the eyes of the underground dwellers. Many had makeshift sunglasses, some the fine Polaroids brought to this world by the humans. They matched the Ellala in speed and grace, and their two-weapon fighting style presented their enemy with too many blades to deal with.

  Over a hundred Ellala were down in the first seconds. They had been moving and fighting for some time, while the French/Dark Elf force was fresh. They had many more mages among their ranks than the dwarves did. Those elves, also clad in chain, though lighter than their warrior brethren, were throwing bolts of power at their enemies in the courtyard and up onto the walls where the Ellala archers were sheltered. Shafts from their fast firing crossbows also rained down on their enemies, and the initial shock threw the Ellala back.

  "I don't know how long this is going to last," Jackie shouted, looking over at Gregor.

  "Then we should just take advantage of it," the Russian yelled back.

  Jackie nodded, falling in beside some of the Dark Elves. This time she didn't push to the front, but held back and let her allies carry the fight. She waited until an Ellala was engaged, then struck, killing the surface elf in an instant. She had both blades out now, depending on the mages and crossbowmen to keep the Ellala on the walls busy. The blades flashed with fiery and icy residue, and in less than a minute she had taken down a score of the enemy. The Dark Elves seemed to appreciate her efforts, and started herding the Ellala toward her. Soon those creatures were trying to avoid her proximity and certain death.

  "We're almost there," yelled Gregor, using the same tactic she was, letting the Dark Elves set up his victims and killing them.

  Jackie looked ahead and saw the gates, a drawbridge over a moat, with small guard positions on this side. The gates were set in large towers with machines on them, all facing out. On that tower was a figure that radiated power, a major enemy. One that was certainly intent on causing some harm on the field outside the walls where her other friends were; where her lover was. There was a walkway on the outer rim of that wall, a couple of meters higher than the courtyard, looking down on the moat. The moat had something swimming in it. She couldn't make out what it was, but she was sure it wasn't goldfish.

  The figure on the tower reached forward with a hand and a rippling ball of energy left the member, streaking out and down toward some target. At that moment, Jackie knew what she had to do. She felt fatigued to the point where she was ready to lay down and sleep for a week, but there was no time for that, and she turned toward the outer wall and took a step forward.

  "Clear a path," she yelled, knocking a few of her allies out of the way. The rest seemed to get the point and opened a path, and she sped up as she ran, pushing off at the edge of the ten meter wide moat and flying through the air. She hit the walkway on the other side and bounced from the wall, almost falling into the moat. A great head came to the surface, and a huge crocodile-like reptile looked at her with hunger in its eyes. She was pretty sure that being eaten by that creature would be her end as she balanced on the edge of the walkway for a couple of frightening seconds. She moved back to the center as the crocodilian snapped its jaws shut behind her. Catching her breath for a moment, she started off at a run. She needed to get to the top of that tower and stop the bastard at the top. She was sure that thing was the Emperor, and if she killed him, the war would be all but over.

  * * *

  The Half Litch Emperor Ellandra Mashara looked down on the field from the tower he had just teleported to, a scowl on his face. He had thought that the summoned demons would rout the enemy army, but the bitch Goddess Arathonia had done something unheard of for her and sent her angels to fight them. The angels had been winning, until Bothar sent one of his messenger gods to earth. Arathonia had then unleashed another surprise, and her own messenger appeared.

  It still looked good for the side of the God of Death. Lukutheris was of basically equal strength to Melatafolis, and it had seemed that the battle would be a draw, which would still be a loss for Bothar since his demons were losing their fight. The difference between the messengers of the God of Death and that of Arathonia was in their motivations. Lukutheris was a brutal, savage creature who reveled in the slaughter and destruction he could cause. Melatafolis was a gentle being who relished the life and peace around her. She was physically as strong, but not anywhere near as good a fighter.

  The demon lord had gotten the other Goddess into a death grip, holding the neck of its enemy in its powerful jaws. That was a grip of death, but not immediately fatal. There were a lot of thick scales and hard muscles between those teeth and the tender structures beneath. However, that grip it would eventually cut into the arteries and airway, and the material body of the lesser goddess would die.

  That is until the humans used their infernal war machines, the new ones they had developed since coming to this world, to hit Lukutheris. It didn't seem to damage the demon lord, but it certainly took the attention of the bloodthirsty creature off its prey. It turned away from Melatafolis and fell for her attack, which reversed their positions. In fact, the gold had gotten an even better grip, and now she was on the back of the red and he was helpless to dislodge her.

  "No," he said under his breath. If the Messenger God was destroyed, the battle outside the walls was lost. He would only have his palace/castle to protect him, and that could not be allowed.

  The Emperor started to access some of the energy he had stored for his transformation to a full litch. Every bit he used would delay his transformation to the immortality of that creature, the most powerful of the undead. Regardless, if he did not stop stop the enemy here and now, his chances of immortality were reduced considerably. In fact, he might end here.

  The Emperor had already lived over four thousand years, near the end of the natural life span of an Ellala. Most Ellala were very satisfied to live that long and go to their reward. Ellandra was not like most Ellala. He had lived an evil enough life that he was terrified of the afterlife. He did not intend to see the hells of Bothar, the god he had worshiped throughout most of his life. He would live forever, but if he lost his capital city before he finished the change, he would eventually die. That could not be allowed.

  He said a quick prayer to Bothar to give him the power, and then spoke the trigger words of the spell he had memorized. A ball of power formed in his hand, and he went through a throwing motion that arced the globe toward the gold dragon that was his enemy. The globe struck, rippling the scales and flesh of the huge mo
nster as it hit. The monster shook with the violence of the strike, but it continued to press its teeth into its enemy.

  Ellandra called up more energy and repeated the spell, sending it into the gold dragon with the same result. Some might have given up at that time since what they had tried had not succeeded. The half litch was not some, and he knew his attack had hurt the material form of the goddess. Each attack was doing something, and if he sent enough of the force balls into her it would break her hold on Lukutheris, and the demon lord would turn on her and rip the life from her body. He called up more power, said another spell, and sent the energy into the enemy dragon. It was only a matter of time, and there was no way an enemy could interrupt him in the position he occupied.

  He drew his arm back and went through another throwing motion, sending a ball of energy into the enemy, and again watching as her flesh shook from the hit. It would not take many more, and once Lukutheris was free he would slaughter the humans, dwarves and elves arrayed against him.

  * * *

  The goddess in the form of a gold dragon pushed the god in the form of a red down, her teeth digging in. Kurt was yelling. The angels were routing the demons, and it seemed like this battle was won.

  "What the hell is that?" asked Levine, pointing at the left side gate tower.

  Kurt zoomed his vision in to see an Ellala in ornate armor looking down, the same one that had sacrificed all of the women, an evil look on his face. He made a throwing motion with his right hand, and a ball of shivering force flew down at Melatafolis. It hit the dragon in the back, forcing a low roaring breath from her body. It was obvious that the ball had hit with some force, if not enough to kill, enough to elicit a pain reaction from the huge beast.

  Another ball of shimmering force flew out, hitting Melatafolis again, drawing another hiss of pain through locked jaws. The red roared and struggled. It knew that something was hurting its enemy, and that it might be able to break free from the death grip. A third ball hit the gold, driving her down.