by Randi Darren
“Just try to keep them back and off me as best as you can. If you land a hit, try to pull at them with your Essence,” Sam instructed. “As if you were a Vampire or a siphon. Can you do that?”
“I most certainly can try,” Yala declared, holding the spear awkwardly in both hands. She then moved up to the bottom of the stairs where it let out. Angling her spear upward, she looked hesitant but undeterred.
Still grinning, Sam summoned up another weapon, this time his rapier, and moved past the entry. Keeping himself to the far left of the stairwell, with Yala’s spear tip on his right, Sam tried to set up a position from which he could fight.
Glancing back over his shoulder, Sam checked on his comrades.
Aster and Erv were battling with magical combatants at multiple portals. Magic swished back and forth as the duo tried to hold the portals closed. They would be hard-pressed to hold out indefinitely. The simple reality was that more and more magic-wielding soldiers would appear at the portals.
With so many openings, they could easily overwhelm Aster and Erv given time.
Turning his gaze to Wren, Sam found she was exchanging rapid-fire blows with Balahtus. The two fought in a whirlwind of flashing steel and limbs. Balahtus had a number of bloody smears across his body.
Clearly, Wren had scored several hits on him that he’d repaired with his own Essence and abilities.
Wren, on the other hand, was free of any such marks.
She’s able to not just fight him to a standstill, she’s slowly winning.
So long as she doesn’t run out of stamina before he runs out of Essence to heal himself.
The bump and thump of boots that were quite close drew Sam back to his own situation. He needed to hold the stairwell and cover his own part of the problem.
“I’m really nervous,” Yala said in a quiet voice behind him. Her spear didn’t tremble in the slightest despite the sound of her voice.
“So am I. It’s normal,” Sam said and then moved into a fencer’s pose. He held his rapier up in front of himself. It would narrow the places where someone could strike him and give him a slightly better angle to work.
Slashing in a narrow stairwell wasn’t easy. One was far more likely to strike the stones around them than the enemy.
Several enemies in leather armor came into view. Sam lifted his blade tip upward and waited.
Unfortunately for him, the enemy came down in a press. They had no option to slow down. Those in the front were pushed forward even as they tried to come to a stop. The momentum of the column carried everyone forward.
Ah.
Shit.
Lunging forward, Sam caught the lead person in the lungs. The tip slid right through them and out their back. As quickly as he’d moved to withdraw the weapon, Sam had drained them to death. Sending them on to the next plane of existence.
This wasn’t the time or place to try and be merciful. There was too much happening for him to have that kind of charity available. A fight to the death was just that.
Yala’s spear thrust forward and caught one of the soldiers on the other side of the stairs. She struck right in the middle of his abdomen.
The spearhead didn’t do much.
It looked to just barely break through the leather armor, the shaft bending under the weight of the oncoming press of bodies.
Then Yala drained the man of Essence just as Sam had instructed.
Dropping where he stood, the soldier’s life ended. He became another corpse on the stairs and created a growing pileup. Sam had contributed two more bodies at the same time.
Pushed downward, Sam and Yala had no choice but to retreat all the way back down to the base of the stairs. There was simply no way to stop all the soldiers, bodies, and momentum.
Stepping out to the side, Sam lifted his left hand and threw up a small wall of Essence-borne fire. It spanned the distance between one side of the stairwell and the other, blocking it off entirely with roaring purple flames.
Several corpses and one person went through the fiery wall. Each burst into an imitation of a torch, their skin crisping almost instantly. The one living person who’d gone through became a shrieking match and started to roll around on the ground crazily.
The rest of the mass of people were all pushing backward away from the firewall. All of them tried to get away and remain as far back as possible. Even those in the back—who had been pushing those in the front forward—stopped.
Little could be heard over the sound of fire crackling, the screaming of the man who’d gone through it, and the battle between Wren and Balahtus. It was a true din in Hell.
“Oh, that was amazing!” Yala said in an excited voice, stabbing forward with her spear through the fire. Sam could vaguely see it connect with someone on the other side. It connected much more firmly this time and partly penetrated into them.
A second passed before they crumpled to the ground, Yala apparently having devoured their Essence like a snack. Before he could contemplate it, she stabbed out again, her spear moving faster and more firmly.
“Lord Lust,” Yala said as she dropped the soldier she’d just stabbed, draining him dry, “consider me your most loyal city lord, who will do anything you ask of me. Just let me keep a weapon like this.”
It wasn’t hard for Sam to imagine Yala had just gained more Essence, and power, than she’d ever had in her entire life. Right now, no one could deny that she felt like a sexual tyrannosaur.
Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the dark-eyed beautiful woman grinning from ear to ear. The way she held the spear looked far more appropriate now. Then she lunged forward once again.
Each time she connected with a thrust, another soldier died and slumped to the ground. Sometimes, they passed through the flames and caught fire. Sometimes not.
Sam realized this was simpler than he had originally thought.
Moving to stand beside Yala, he rested a hand on her back. Diving into his brand upon her, he linked himself to her. Essence began to flow from him to her, and back to him. He empowered her using the Essence she was draining, and charged the Hellfire he’d placed into the stairwell.
“Lord Lust!” exclaimed Yala, stabbing forward twice in rapid succession. Each attack connected, drained a soldier, and fed back into the loop.
He could feel her desire rising rapidly inside her body. She was getting very excited at being so powerful, as well as the feeling of Sam linking to her directly.
“Keep thrusting,” Sam said with a smirk as Yala kept moving her spear back and forth.
The once-escort turned a deep shade of red at his words but did keep up her attack. The spear took another two lives.
“That’s the line I should be telling you, my Lord Lust,” she said, taking a moment to flick her eyes over to him. There was a need in her eyes that looked to be burning her up from the inside out.
“Talk for another time. Take another for us,” Sam said, gesturing back to the soldiers with a head nod. He was vamping the Essence from her even as she killed more.
He would, of course, give her a percentage of what she took, since she was doing the work, but he wasn’t going to pass up a free meal. Not now.
Unexpectedly, the soldiers in front of Sam and Yala crashed right through the flames. All of them caught fire and burned up. To be replaced by more, then even more.
Until the flames couldn’t keep up and went out all on their own. The spell had been over-taxed by the amount of bodies pushed through it.
Several large Demon-Knights could be seen at the back of the stairwell. They were forcing everyone in front of them forward in a never-ending press.
“Shit,” Sam said and then grabbed Yala under her elbow. Moving away from the stairwell at a near run, Sam headed straight for Aster and Erv. “Time’s up! We gotta go now!”
Erv looked over her shoulder, saw what was going on, then looked ahead again. Her head turned this way and that before she held a hand out to one portal in particular.
“Through there,
Sam!” Aster said, her open hand turning into a pointing finger. “That’s the one we want! It leads to a lower level in the stronghold.”
Ah, regardless of Balahtus, we do have somewhere else to go.
Rushing past Aster, Sam grabbed Erv around the waist, while still pulling Yala along, and went right to the portal.
Erv squeaked, her hands clamping down on Sam’s forearm.
“We’re leaving, Wren!” Sam yelled at the top of his voice. Turning his head, he looked over to where she had been battling Balahtus. She didn’t seem to have heard him.
Balahtus had, though, and looked extremely displeased.
Taking a step to the right, the Pit Demon seemed to be considering attacking Sam and the others, instead of dealing with Wren.
That was apparently the only opening she needed.
Wren had drawn back her battle-axe, then swung it up and planted it between Balahtus’ legs. Driving the edge of the weapon into his privates, then part way up into his guts.
Shrieking in pain, Balahtus dropped his weapon and grabbed at his nethers.
At the same time, Wren had jerked the blade out of the Pit Demon, used the momentum as a swing, and brought the whole thing down in an overhand chop on the Demon’s head.
With a crackling noise, the Pit Demon’s large head was split in half. Brains, bone, and blood sprayed out in every direction. The Pit Demon went limp and became a battered corpse.
At the exact moment that happened, all the soldiers, mages, Demon-Knights, and everyone else under Balahtus’ control suffered the backlash of his death. His brand broke apart and caused chaos through anyone wearing it. It would take them all several minutes to gather themselves after losing their lord.
Wren slammed her battle-axe into the ground, spread her wings out wide, and let out a roar. Bright-red mist poured from her mouth like a dragon breathing flame.
She killed a Pit Demon. Definitely the spawn of Luke.
Most definitely. Though, doesn’t that—
Holding her left hand out over the corpse, Wren made a clutching motion.
A mass of Essence departed the fallen Demon in a rush. Shrieking, screaming, and sounding like wind ripping through a whistle, Balahtus’ soul jetted through the air and entered Wren’s palm. It knocked her hand back a whole foot. The soul vanished into her flesh and no longer existed.
She’d taken his soul directly after killing him. Balahtus would exist no more, on any plane.
Spawn of Luke!
Sam carried Erv and dragged Yala through the indicated portal. He was followed by Aster, and then Wren a few seconds later. They found more collapsed soldiers on the other side.
Then they laid about the portal area and turned it into a butcher’s shop. All the soldiers and mages who had been in the Annulus fortification had been rendered helpless by their lord’s demise.
Twenty-Four - Sigils -
Yala scurried from soldier to soldier and utilized her spear.
“She… ah… seems very driven,” Erv remarked, watching the beautiful Demon going about slaughtering those who couldn’t resist.
“They deserve it,” growled Wren in a heavy breath. She was still spewing out red mist with every breath. “They may have been soldiers under his watch, but they all participated in slaughters, rapes, and whatever else they could.”
Sam wasn’t about to tell Wren that her statement comprised probably ninety percent of all inhabitants of Hell. Considering her most recent accomplishment, and the effort it took, she was above reproach at the moment.
“That and she’s using it like a straw. It’s one of Sam’s Essence weapons. You forget she’s just a Demon. She’s our boob-priestess, but that doesn’t change what she is,” Aster said with a nod of her head, wrapping the portals in ever tighter spells. There was no way they wanted others to come through to bother them. “She’s still just a Demon living the best she can. She can’t just draw in Essence through outside sources. Or draw it from others like many Demons in Hell. She can only earn it, as if it were money.
“This is the first time she’s probably ever experienced being able to tap into Essence directly. Probably the first time she’s ever experienced power that is simply power. I can’t blame her. I’d probably do the same if I was given the same chance.”
Yala made a triumphant squeak and pulled her spear out of a now-dead mage. Rushing over to the next laid out combatant, she slammed her spear down into their chest.
“That’s fair,” Erv murmured, adding her expertise and control to Aster’s spell working. Together they were ensuring it would take a great deal of power to break through their version of a locked door.
Certainly more power than Sam had available to utilize. That meant that the number of people who could force it open would be very few.
Moving to another prone soldier, Yala rammed her spear down into their back. Waiting a second, she pulled it out and went on, leaving behind another dead body.
“What do we do now?” Wren asked, looking at Sam.
“Exactly what we came here to do. Break the sigil diagram and get our portal back home. Because I really don’t want to stay in Hell,” Sam said, looking at the area around them. “Erv, any idea about where that sigil diagram would be?”
“Yes, as cliché as it sounds, the dead center of the fortress,” said the Elemental. “I mean… this is Skipper we’re talking about. She’s not exactly… creative.
“I had to teach almost all of her ‘daughters’ how to use brands, magic, and Essence. It wasn’t as if she would be able to teach them.”
“She was always garbage for pretty much everything,” muttered Sam then sighed. “Really, the only thing she had going for her, was how we met. The fact that I needed a first Imp.”
“You never—”
Before Aster could finish, Sam held up a hand. He knew what she was going to ask.
“Not going to talk about how we met. It’s pointless and serves absolutely no purpose. Let’s just get going,” Sam said and then gestured toward a distant stairwell that led to the floor above. “Lead on, Erv. You’re our guide.”
“Ah… yes,” Erv said, making a flicking hand gesture at the portal. Turning to the side, the lovely Elemental headed toward the stairs. Everyone else began falling in behind her.
“Hey, Boob-Priestess, time to go,” Aster said as they passed by Yala who was busy stabbing yet another soldier.
“Okay,” declared the woman, pulling her spear out of the now recently deceased mage. Instead of falling in with them, she ran ahead toward the stairs, stabbing and killing every prone follower of Balahtus she could.
“Vicious. I like her,” Wren said under her breath while walking alongside Sam.
“Mm. By the way, we should probably talk about the fact that you took the soul of Balahtus,” said Sam, glancing toward Wren. She still had her horns, wings, and hooves. An image of a female Luke.
“I… yes. I didn’t even realize what I was doing until I had already pulled it free,” Wren murmured, her brows slowly coming down low over her eyes. Her brow was furrowed and she looked mildly concerned. “I’m not a Cambion anymore.”
“Actually, you’re not thinking of it right. You were never really a Cambion,” replied Sam. “You were a Devil. Or more directly, of ‘The Devil’ line. Luke claimed he wasn’t normal and was a specific race.
“There’s no doubting at all that you’re of his breed. Which I suppose, in the end, is an extremely higher, more powerful, Cambion. For all we know, Luke made the first Cambion of his own line and bred them accordingly. Everyone knows Cambion were bred to become soldiers and sexual partners to Demons, yet no one knows where that belief started. Cambion just… came into being.”
“Wait… Luke is older than you are?” Wren asked, now looking at Sam with a very curious expression.
“Different parts of Hell,” Sam murmured. “I wasn’t actually from this area, you know. Nor was Luke.
“Word and myth always spread further than the original subject. I mys
elf worked in an area that was probably as large as all these towers but… much different in landscape. Just how the world is.
“Though to answer you directly… yes. Luke was around since the Elementals themselves were formed. Now seeing your abilities in person and based on what was said of Luke… I begin to wonder if you’re perhaps an Elemental of Hell.”
To Sam, it made perfect sense. Wren drew her powers from others from Hell, as well as the plane of Hell itself. As if she were a Water Elemental in a lake, or a Fire Elemental in a bonfire.
“Hm. Seems possible,” Wren agreed, looking ahead as they began to climb the stairs. Behind them, Yala slammed her spear into the back of a mage, withdrew it, and fell in behind them. “I can feel the suffering of others. The wish to do violence upon another coming from someone. Cruelty, misfortune, and negativity.
“Feel it all around me and it nourishes me. Every time s… every time our boob-priestess killed someone, I felt her desire. Her joy at taking someone’s life as well as their suffering as they died.”
“Did you? Well, that’s impressive,” Yala said, unconcerned by the words. She was a true denizen of Hell. Suffering was no different than breathing. “You’re not going to start calling me that as well, are you? It’s a terrible name.”
“Your boobs are nearly as big as Jes’ if not bigger. Boob-priestess fits,” Wren said.
“And Erv is our boob-goddess. Bigger than all,” Aster said, sliding up behind Erv. Her hands spread out quickly to her sides.
“Don’t. I’m busy doing as Lord Lust commanded me,” said Erv, lifting a hand up as they exited the stairwell.
Aster deflated, her hands falling to her sides. She was quick to fondle Erv given a chance, but never fought the Elemental when she told her to stop or to not do so.
“Now we go… uhm… that is—” Erv’s voice trailed off as she slowly looked back and forth between the corridors spread out around them. It was clear she wasn’t quite sure which way to go. Shaking her head, she held her hands up and created a small web-work of elemental water.
Holding it up in front of herself, she slowly rotated one way, then the other.
