The Shadow Knight (A Shadow Knight Novel Book 1)

by Jason L. McWhirter

  The black steam disappeared as Jonas attacked the demon, Tulari moving quickly around Maltheil, her fur now black to match the landscape. The terrain was a mixture of black dirt and rock, stone formations jutting from the ground all around them. Some were as tall as a man, others, huge, like the spines of a dragon bursting from the ground. In the distance were bigger ones still, huge ranges of black stone, the horizon shades of red and orange, accentuated by brush strokes of gray clouds. Black tree-like formations were peppered all around, their spiny branches like black bones and sharp claws hanging from the trunks. Pockets of steam rose from the ground, and occasionally pits of fire burned, giving the surroundings the look of a long ago burned and destroyed forest.

  Jonas’s bow thrummed and three arrows struck the beast in the chest. Roaring, Maltheil stepped towards him just as a huge sword of fire appeared in the beast’s hands, the fiery blade coming for him with inhuman speed as the beast’s long strides brought him quickly before Jonas.

  “We must kill him quickly!” Jonas yelled, digging deep again for his cognivant ability, knowing that if he were to block the massive flame sword with his own blades, that its power would likely crush his arm, or perhaps worse. So he spun energy around his left arm, the one holding his bow, forming a blue translucent shield just as the great sword swung down. The blade hit the shield and fire erupted, and despite the size and power of the demon, it did not move Jonas’s shield arm any more than it would if struck by a normal sword. Jonas attacked quickly, darting inside the demon’s reach, the edge of his blade glowing blue as its edge dug deep into the flesh of the demon’s legs.

  Faster than Jonas thought possible, Maltheil reached under him, its long arm snapping for him. Jonas, sensing the attack, tried to spin away and distance himself from the beast, but the demon’s long clawed fingers hooked his cloak, ripping him from the ground and flinging him into the air like a rock thrown from a catapult.

  As Jonas flew through the air, Tulari leaped upon the demon’s back, sharp claws like daggers raking its flesh as her huge mouth clamped on the top of its shoulder. Maltheil roared in pain and reached back, grabbing Tulari by her black fur, the beast’s sharp claws digging in deep, and flung her easily over its shoulder. Tulari struck a rock structure and one didn’t have to be close to hear bones break.

  Tyril and Bearit, now in full control of their senses, ran at Maltheil’s back, their sword and axe hacking at its thighs like a logger cutting down a tree. Maltheil spun, its fire sword coming around. Tyril twisted at the last moment and the blade flashed by, the heat from the weapon burning his cheek.

  Bearit saw the attack but the demon was so fast, and all he had time to do was hold his axe before him, hoping that the blade would not snap it and then cut him in half. The fire blade struck Bearit’s weapon in the middle of the shaft. There was a flash of light as the blessed weapon held, but the power was enough to pitch Bearit into the air. If it wasn’t for his prodigious strength, he probably would have broken his arms. Instead, he landed on the hard rock and slid five paces, scorched wrists and a few bruises his only injuries.

  Back at the portal, Peron dropped through the opening and stumbled to his knees, the gateway flashing shut behind him. It took him a moment to wrestle with the nausea, the stagnant thick air doing little to help. He heard the fighting and after a few moments was able to make out the scene. Maltheil was locked in battle with Bearit and Tyril, while Korrin was nearby, trying to stand and moaning in pain. They still wore his masks, so that was good. He didn’t know what to do, or how he could fit in. He knew that he would be no match for the demon, and if he were even able to work up the courage to attack, his actions might get in the way of the others. Looking around, his heart beating nervously, he hastily looked around hoping for any ideas to spring to mind. He needed to do something to help.

  Jonas stood, his body bruised but nothing seemed broken. His heart was pounding with fear as he saw Tyril and Bearit engage the demon. Running with great speed, he planted his right foot on a black stone, using it as leverage he jumped to the top of another formation that was much higher. Sheathing his blade smoothly, he drew shaft after shaft, the black arrows covering the distance in a blink to pound into the demon’s back. Flashes of light followed each one, and after three, the demon roared loudly in pain, spinning, its red eyes finding Jonas with murderous intent.

  Tyril took advantage of the demon’s distraction and rammed his blade straight into Maltheil’s thigh. The blessed weapon parted scaly flesh and sunk two hand spans into its leg. Like a horse kicking its trainer, Maltheil roared and snapped that leg back and struck Tyril in his shield arm, hitting him so hard that he flew over ten paces away. He rolled and tumbled over the hard black ground, finally stopping, his arm bent at an awkward angle, the weight of the shield causing him further pain.

  As they fought, Peron was sneaking through the shadows, running from one stone formation to another, heading to a small ledge of stone that overlooked the fighting. Perhaps he would get a better view and come up with a way to help. Howls in the distance froze him still, his shaking body pressed up against a black rock sticking from the earth like a dark spike. Something else was out there, and it was heading in their direction. Taking a few deep breaths, Peron moved and ran to the stone ledge. It was no more than five paces high, and the black stone offered many hand and foot holds with which to climb. The howls came again, but closer, and they ate away at his resolve. Trying his best to find his nerve, he began to climb.

  Jonas got three more arrows off, all finding their marks before Maltheil was close enough to bring the fire sword to bear. The stone structure he was on put him at the demon’s head height, and the massive blade came around, striking the base of the stone, shattering it in an awesome display of power. Instead of leaping away, Jonas jumped forward, and to the demon’s dismay, placed his foot on the top of its head, using it to jump further still, somersaulting through the air to land on his feet behind the beast. Again his arm was up and two arrows slammed into the demon’s back.

  Maltheil turned to face him, and if Jonas didn’t know better he thought the beast moved slower, with less power. The countless arrows and other attacks seemed to barely hamper the demon, but perhaps they were beginning to take their toll. The demon paused as howls filled the dark night, or day, one could not tell. “My servants come,” Maltheil hissed. “You will pay for what you’ve done.”

  Bearit ran to stand next to Jonas, with Tulari, blood drenching her fur, doing the same. Maltheil moved to the side near a rock ledge, its fire sword held low. It looked as if the beast was using the ledge to protect it from attacks from the rear. Jonas smiled, knowing at that moment that they had indeed hurt the beast. Maltheil was taking them more seriously, but he was also stalling, waiting for his servants to arrive.

  Back with Korrin, the injured Red Guard captain knelt next to Tyril. “Are you okay?”

  Tyril moaned, his shattered arm sending waves of lightning pain up his side. “My arm is broken. Take off my mask, I cannot breathe well.”

  Korrin reached down with burned arms and slowly took off Tyril’s mask. Then he helped him unbuckle the shield, trying his best to not cause him further pain. Tyril moaned in agony and gritted his teeth, doing his best to not cry out. Korrin’s flesh was burned in numerous places but he pushed past the anguish and re-buckled Tyril’s shield, placing his own arm through the straps. “We’ll be back for you.” Then he got up and ran towards the fight.

  “We must kill him now,” Jonas warned. “If the beast’s servants arrive, we will not have a chance.” As if to accentuate the point, the howls grew louder. They were nearly upon them. Korrin joined them, Tyril’s shield held before him. “Does he live?” Jonas asked. They knew he was speaking of Tyril.

  “Yes,” Korrin responded, his voice muffled from the mask and clearly strained, his own pain nearly unbearable.

  “Atticus never made it, did he?” Bearit asked.

  Maltheil was not attacking, waiting for his servants
to arrive, or perhaps healing itself, something they could not let happen.

  “No,” Jonas said. There was nothing else to say. Each of them had known the dangers when agreeing to the plan, and none of them now saw any sense in worrying about their fates. They had one task now, and that was to kill the demon.

  Jonas nodded to them and brought his bow up, and together they attacked. More arrows struck the demon as they all came together. Maltheil brought the great sword across its body, aiming for Bearit and Korrin who attacked while Tulari had leapt high and Jonas hung back, his arrows continuing to hit their marks. Korrin dove forward narrowly avoiding the flaming sword, springing up under the creature and ramming his sword up into Maltheil’s stomach. Bearit saw the flaming sword coming and pivoted his body, spinning by it and using the blade of his axe to push it away. The fire burned his flesh but he kept his momentum going, swinging the axe around and striking Maltheil’s left leg with all the power he could muster. The sharp blade buried itself deep, stopping when it hit bone. Maltheil’s cry of pain was louder than any they had ever heard, but still the demon would not relent. Bringing his hands together, he brought both fists down, including the pommel of the sword, on Korrin’s head. The move was so fast, fueled by the pain from Bearit’s wound, that Korrin had no time to avoid the strike. He looked up, and in a flash Maltheil’s fists smashed through his head, pounding his dead and broken body into the ground. Great anger coursed through the demon’s body and he brought those same fists to bear, swinging them mightily across his body towards Bearit.

  Then Tulari struck the beast in the chest, knocking it back into the stone ledge, her claws ripping into it once again. This time her powerful jaw clamped onto the demon’s thick neck.

  Maltheil roared and flailed, dropping its sword the beast brought both hands around Tulari’s strong body, its black claws ripping into her flesh. But still she held on, her mighty jaws snapping, teeth ripping and tearing at the beast’s neck. Howling louder, Maltheil used its magic, and in one great burst of power, the demon’s body glowed red. Then, moments later, its body erupted in fire. Tulari was propelled into the air, her fur and flesh scorched badly. Bearit too was knocked from his feet, the power of the explosion sending him through the air to land next to Jonas, who had also been blown from his feet.

  They slowly got up as Maltheil leaned against the rock ledge. Arrows riddled the demon’s body and black blood gushed from many devastating wounds. The worst was its ripped and torn neck. More howl’s shattered the silence precluding the intense violence. Within moments they would be overrun by Maltheil’s minions, and he would use his powers to heal himself. Korrin was dead, and Bearit was burned so badly that he was forced to take off his mask, the leather and cloth destroyed by the fire. Black burns covered his arms and snaked up the side of his neck, one ear a shriveled black mess. His face was tight as he wrestled with the pain, but still he stood tall, his burnt hands holding his axe. Tyril limped to them, his left arm hanging limply, his face pale even in the shadowy light. Tulari lay on her side nearby, whimpering through the pain. She struggled to rise, but could not, two of her legs burnt and blacked from the fire, her coat drenched in blood.

  “You have done well,” Maltheil said, the demons voice low, lacking its previous bravado and power. “But my servants will kill you, and I will heal. The end is the same. You will die.”

  Peron held his pitiful sword in both hands, the blade shaking as fear flooded through him. He could see Maltheil’s head just above the ledge, and he crouched no more than four paces away, behind a chunk of black stone. He could not tell exactly what had happened, and nor could he see his friends from his vantage point. But the way the demon leaned against the stone, and the fact that he was not attacking, leant one to think that he was seriously injured. The howls came again, and this time Peron knew that what was out there would be upon them soon. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, releasing the air slowly and trying his best to overcome his fear. Looking at his sword arm, the blade shook, uncontrollable nervous energy getting the best of him.

  “We must attack now!” Jonas yelled, “Or the beast will heal and his servants will converge on us!”

  Tyril narrowed his eyes and dug deep for the last of his strength. Bearit glanced at him, a knowing look passing between them. Then they charged.

  Jonas drew back on his bow as the two injured men attacked with the last of their strength. His arrows slammed into the demon as the beast kicked out with its clawed foot. Bearit, slow from exhaustion and pain, tried to spin away, but the creature’s foot clipped him in the shoulder and sent him sprawling to the hard ground.

  Tyril’s left arm hung useless at his side and as he ran fiery pain shot through is body. Grunting away the pain, his sword arm carried his blade down and across the demon’s exposed leg, cutting deeply into its flesh. Howling, Maltheil quickly retracted its leg, its left arm snaking down simultaneously like a striking adder and grabbing Tyril around the sword arm and lifting him high, dangling him in the air like a caught rat. Tyril screamed as new pain shot through his broken arm.

  Several more of Jonas’s arrows struck the demon in the chest, and a third sheared off his thick skull. Maltheil’s eyes glowed red in anger as the sting of Jonas’s arrows took their toll. The beast brought forth its inherent magic, and instantly a globe of blackness surrounded Jonas. Then the demon turned its glowing eyes, dripping with hatred, on Tyril, who was swaying helplessly before it.

  Peron’s eyes widened as he saw his friend dangling dangerously in the air. Suddenly his sword arm stopped shaking, the nervous energy pounded down by something else, something primal that he had never felt before. He thought of all the sacrifices his friends have made. He thought of all the soldiers that were likely dying now, fighting on the bridge while he hid behind a rock. And that was enough. Opening his eyes, he ran from the protection of the stone, covering the four paces quickly and without a second thought he leapt from the cliff edge.

  Jonas had no idea what was happening, the blackness around him thick like oil. Running and diving to his left, he quickly rolled free from the darkness, rising to his feet to an astonishing site. Jonas’s breath caught in his throat when he glimpsed Peron jump off the ledge, his sword angled down towards Maltheil. He was even more amazed when he landed on Maltheil’s shoulders, his rapier coming down hard, the sharp narrow blade busting through the demon’s skull and burying itself hilt deep in the top of its head.

  Maltheil’s body went rigid and bolted upright, ejecting Peron into the air and dropping Tyril to the ground. Howls spun Jonas around, and converging on them from the darkness were human-like shapes, their pale white skin emerging from the shadows. Their legs and arms were human in appearance, but misshapen, their claws and toes capped with sharp claws. Their heads were equally misshapen, with bulging elongated skulls, red eyes, and large mouths filled with teeth. They screeched and howled, their awkward gate propelling them forward faster as they saw their prey. There were easily fifty of them, and more appeared from the darkness every moment.

  Jonas ran to Peron who was getting up slowly from the ground. “Come quickly!” he yelled to the others as he helped Peron up. The young king’s face was bleeding from a bad cut across his skull, but other than that he seemed intact. Jonas guided Peron to Tulari’s moaning body and the others joined them. Tyril could barely move, but the presence of his friend somehow gave him the energy to stand and limp towards them. Bearit’s face was ashen and his movements slow, the pain of his burns apparent as he struggled to stumble to them. “Do you have the stone!” Jonas yelled as he rose and drew his bow, firing two arrows into a few lesser demons that were getting close.

  “Yes,” Peron said, the advancing demons enough to shake him from the dizziness of his fall. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the stone. Bearit growled like an animal, masking the pain as he cut a reaching demon down. In moments they would be overrun. “Smash it!” Jonas roared, firing his bow again, killing three more demons as they neared.


  “Wait!” Bearit yelled as he somehow managed to find more strength to run towards Korrin’s body. A few of the lesser demons were already there and Bearit, despite his injuries, swung his axe with all his remaining strength, cutting left and right into the reaching demons, his defiant howls helping him wrestle with the pain. He looked like a berserker as he roared and killed three lesser demons before reaching Korrin’s body.

  “Bearit!” Jonas screamed, his bow firing again and again, his enchanted arrows piercing demon flesh and spinning the bodies away from Bearit.

  Bearit reached down and with an incredible amount of strength, a power born from something deep within him, he lifted Korrin’s body and slung it over his shoulder. His burns were exploding in agony, but he growled it away and ran back to the others, his heavy axe, wielded with one hand, cutting down a reaching demon. Jonas arrows blurred by him, taking several more down just before Bearit reached them, his eyes wild with adrenaline, his chest heaving up and down as he held Korrin’s body.

  Jonas looked at his friend, an understanding flashing between them. The young man was not going to leave the body in this forsaken place. More creatures came at them as Jonas looked at Peron, his bow already back in position. “Now!”

  Peron grabbed a black rock and brought it down upon the blue stone. Instantly there was a flash, and energy shot from the stone, its power coalescing into a spinning vortex. Blue light from the stone continued to pour from it, disappearing into the vortex. It was that energy that had opened the portal, and that very energy was seeking the stone on the other side, and Jonas knew, that once the blue energy left the stone, that the portal would close. “Go!” he yelled. “Quickly.”

  Bearit, Tyril, and Peron jumped through the portal. Jonas backed up to it, his bow firing again and again. Tulari tried to stand, but she could not rise, her legs too far gone to put any weight on. Go, she said to Jonas.