by Layton Green
They made their way cautiously through the ruins, scanning their surroundings with every step. Val’s heart skipped a beat every time they rounded a corner or passed a doorway cut into the stone. It was impossible to see all the angles of the abandoned fort, and if they were indeed dealing with some kind of demon, he questioned the wisdom of heading right into its lair.
“I’m shielding us,” Cyrus said in a low voice, as if hearing Val’s thoughts.
It took an enormous amount of energy to maintain a Wizard Shield around one person alone. Was Cyrus using a different spell? A device of some sort?
They reached a sizeable inner courtyard, still with no sign of trouble. The stench grew stronger. Just as they were about to choose one of the passages, they saw it standing on a crenellated section of the wall buttressing the opposite side of the courtyard.
Huge and muscular, the demon had four arms, a scaly body, and an oversize head hunched like a vulture atop its squat neck. At a distance, the demon’s mottled brown-and-green scales made it hard to distinguish from the mossy granite wall.
“Wait here,” Cyrus said. Val heard an oddly personal edge to his voice, as if he bore the demon a grudge.
The creature was standing in the dip between the crenellations. As Cyrus advanced, it used its four arms to clamber like a spider atop the highest portion, staring down at them with saucer-size eyes and an unnaturally wide mouth. Val recalled the exchange at the inn.
No reports of magic?
Only that it moves faster than a galloping horse, and can swallow a grown pig whole.
Cyrus took flight, hugging the top of the wall and landing ten feet from the demon. It grinned wider as the mage extended his hands and formed a translucent spear that coalesced out of the mist. He threw it at the demon, landing a direct hit, but the spear shattered on the creature’s broad chest and exploded in a spray of silver.
Magic resistant.
The demon opened its mouth and roared. Fear coursed like an electric shock through Val. The thing’s jaws had cranked as wide as a barrel, exposing rows of teeth running down its throat in uneven lines. Cyrus flung his hands at the beast, causing the stone beneath it to explode. The creature fell on its back, stunned, as the gray-cloaked mage flew down to meet it.
“More!” Rucker roared. “Behind you!”
Val whipped around. Another demon, identical to the first, had crept up behind Rucker. The old adventurer must have canine hearing.
As Rucker raised his sword, Val saw a third one, similar to the first but with blue-green skin, launch itself off the nearest wall. It was coming straight for Val, four arms extended.
He stumbled backwards. The spell he had prepared slipped away, his mental concentration drowned in fear and adrenaline. Realizing he was about to get ripped apart, he managed to erect a Wizard Shield, though he suspected the demon would punch right through it.
He never got to find out. Before the demon smashed into him, something hit it in midair and sent it flying. Synne landed softly and faced off against the monster with her bare hands extended.
Val backed next to Dida as the battle commenced, desperate to find a way to help. He didn’t have his staff, and Spirit Fire was too risky to use in close quarters. Dida was a bibliomancer, a specialist in runes and arcane knowledge, and did not possess much of an arsenal.
The demon ran at Synne, four arms beating the air. She matched it blow for blow, moving in a blur, blocking the demon’s strikes and landing a few blows in between. Val watched her go on the offensive, sending the demon into the wall again with a powerful aerial spin kick.
She may not be a full majitsu, he thought, but she could fight.
Though Rucker wasn’t as fast as Synne, he used his wide-bodied sword as both weapon and shield, turning it sideways to block the demon’s strikes, then taking chunks of the creature’s flesh with pinpoint swipes of the blade. The crafty one-armed warrior spun, parried, dodged, feinted, and used portions of the wall to his advantage, stymying every move the demon tried to make.
Cyrus had his opponent backed against a wall and was sending loose blocks of stone flying into its body. The demon tried to shield itself with its arms, but Val watched as chunk after chunk of stone pummeled the monster, until its chest caved and it crumpled on the ground. Cyrus extended his arm and formed it into a flesh-colored sword. As the weakened demon tried to stand, Cyrus cut off an arm with a swipe of the blade. With a snarl, the powerful mage leapt forward and jerked on one of the demon’s horns to expose its neck, then severed its head.
“Behind you!” Rucker roared.
Val turned just as Dida tackled him from the side. The demon fighting Rucker had decided to break off and come for the two mages. Dripping brown ichor and missing chunks of flesh, the monster looked enraged and half-mad. Dida’s tackle had saved them from the initial strike, but the demon loomed over them with death in its yellow eyes.
Val tried to use Spirit Fire but couldn’t call it forth. The battle was too fluid and his mind too jumbled. Dida was frantically trying to inscribe something in midair as the demon barreled forward. Val screamed in rage and tried to produce something, anything, with his magic. A Wizard Push rushed out of him that barely slowed the creature.
After swiping Dida aside, the demon grasped Val with all four of its arms, and began to pull. Val screamed, feeling as if he were being drawn and quartered. Just as his tendons stretched to the breaking point, there was a blur of movement, and Synne landed on the demon’s back like a gangly black spider. She gripped the demon’s head and whipped its neck to the side. With a sharp crack, the head dropped at an unnatural angle. It collapsed in a heap at her feet.
Aching but alive, Val caught his breath and gripped Synne by the forearm. “You saved my life.”
“Of course I did,” she said, after she caught her breath. “They made me take an oath to protect you.”
So many questions swirled in Val’s head as the party returned in silence to Porlock. Would he ever be able to use his magic in the heat of battle? Why had Synne landed in prison, and could he trust her? Most importantly, if the ancient city of Badŏn truly lay beyond the barrier of fog, how could they possibly cope with an entire horde of demons?
The adrenaline lingering in Val’s system caused the wildflowers to seem a few shades brighter, the air more fresh and clean. He took a deep breath to shake off the terror of the battle and caught up with Cyrus.
“Those demons were magic resistant, weren’t they?” Val asked.
“Aye. But not all are. And spells born purely of this world will be unaffected.”
“What do you mean?”
“Had I used a natural source of fire or lightning, for example, the demon would not have been immune. My spear was born of mist, but crafted of air and light. Not particularly strong—I was testing.”
“I wondered,” Val murmured. “And the sword arm, at the end?”
“The demon was weakened. I overpowered his resistance with a direct blow, aided by my own physical strength.”
Val looked to the side, in the direction of the veil of fog. He hoped he never crossed a member of the wizard guard. “How do we survive this, Cyrus?”
“Remember that your mission is not to kill demons. Your mission is to find Tobar and the Star Crown. My advice is to avoid engagement.”
“We’ll be sure to ask the demons to take a lunch break.”
Cyrus didn’t respond to the sarcasm. “You must also keep your magic at the ready, at all times. Once you cross the barrier, you’ll be at war.”
“I was only a first year when I was imprisoned.”
Cyrus stared at him calmly. “Then it’s time to become a full mage.”
Val pressed his lips together and returned the stare. Cyrus was right. This was trial by fire. If Val wanted to live, he had to figure some things out for himself.
“Do you have any idea how to cross the barrier?” Val asked.
“The ones who passed through never returned.” He hesitated, and said, “Three
members of the Wizard Guard were part of that expedition. My brother was one of them.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“As you can see, I have a vested interest in your success.”
Val gripped his arm. “If I find him, I’ll do everything I can to bring him back.”
Cyrus returned the gesture. “Thank you.”
They returned to the village at midday. Before they entered the inn, Cyrus took his leave in the flying stagecoach after wishing them success. The departure of the powerful mage caused a lump of dread to form in Val’s gut.
He thought the inn would be bustling, but the common room was empty except for a lone woman sitting by the fire. Her back was to the door, but she turned as they entered, lowering the hood of her finely made cloak. A spool of honey-blond hair spilled down her back, and Val froze when he saw her pale but beautiful face, eyes that matched her turquoise cloak, and a choker made of azantite disguised as black pearl.
Adaira.
-9-
No one accosted Will and the others as they made their way across the poor section of town, entered a more residential area, and checked into a guesthouse with thatched roof bungalows and an open-air courtyard cradled by tropical vegetation. They hid in their rooms until the afternoon, fearful of a visit from the authorities. When no sign of an alarm came, Mala allowed them to venture into the courtyard for a late lunch of ceviche and grilled cactus washed down with mango juice.
After they finished eating, Mala rose to approach Will. “You’re coming with me.”
“To find the guide? I thought you wanted to go alone?”
“I did, until your stunt in the temple. Now I must plan for the worst.” She glanced at his sword. “Should the need arise, your sword is our best chance against a Battle Mage. Do you think you can leave the damsels in distress next time?”
“I’ll never promise that.” Mala’s eyes flashed at the challenge. In an even tone, he added, “But I’ll try to make sure I know who I’m helping.”
“You’d better. Otherwise I’ll leave you to fight your own battles.”
Will snorted and looked away. When he turned back, she was halfway to the door.
“Why not Selina?” Will asked as they walked. He and Mala tried to appear casual as they strolled through an upscale part of town straddling a plateau overlooking the pale blue ocean. Two-story stone residences and commercial edifices, interspersed with manicured gardens, were woven into the remains of a sprawling temple complex.
“What?” Mala said, her eyes in constant motion. The tonier neighborhood meant fewer crowds and more chance of running afoul of the authorities.
“Why take me and not Selina?”
“Selina is inexperienced in battle, and I’m unsure of her strength. A Mayan Battle Mage is trained for war from birth.”
Will’s hand moved to the hilt of his sword. “I wonder whether Zariduke can cut through all magic, no matter how strong,” he said quietly.
Mala eyed the blade. “Never forget that a wizard has many weapons, and the sword may not save you.”
Will didn’t need Mala to remind him that Zedock, the powerful necromancer who had driven Will and his brothers to Urfe in the first place, had almost killed him despite being run through with Zariduke. The mage had laid his hands on Will’s chest and would have drained his life force, had Caleb and Yasmina not intervened.
They passed cafés tucked into columned patios, green spaces crawling with iguanas, rooftop terraces shaded by palms, and long colonnades with vendors selling beautiful handmade jewelry, silk wraps, and aromatic baked goods. Tall glow lamps lined the streets, the silver cages at the top carved in the likeness of jungle animals.
“What happened to all the temples?” Will asked. “Is there a ban on religion here, too?”
“Wizards will never forget the Age of Sorrows. I can’t say that I blame them. My people, too, know what it means to suffer the scourge of prejudice.” She scowled. “Are the Congregation wizards not self-aware enough to know they have become what they once despised? In any event, the Pagan Wars spread to other parts of the world, especially in the West. Religion was never outlawed in the Mayan Kingdom, but most of the temples have been converted to public spaces.”
They followed a crumbling stone road on the far side of the plateau that led down to the harbor. Just before the bustling waterfront, Mala veered onto a footpath that angled through high grass and into a shanty town built into a jumble of stone ruins sitting at the bottom of a cliff. It looked as if some force of nature, or perhaps an elder mage, had pushed a temple complex off the precipice.
A host of street vendors had taken up residence among the ruins. The stench of fish guts mingled with the briny dry air. Mala waded through stalls hosting tradesmen of all sorts, blacksmiths and fishmongers and textile makers. The shanty town was more developed than Will had realized.
Mala kept going until she reached a cove at the bottom of the highest cliff in sight. After scanning the water, she looked up, where a quartet of dark-skinned Mayans in loincloths were clustered near the edge. Will watched in awe as one of the men jumped off and performed a looping swan dive. A group of people at the bottom clapped and tossed a few coins. The next two divers executed more daring maneuvers, but the fourth put them all to shame by completing a rapid series of back flips, flattened his body into a freefalling plank, then finished with a graceful back dive that landed between two jagged rocks with nary a splash.
When the last diver surfaced, a short and muscular Mayan with dark bangs that brushed his eyes, the crowd showered him with praise and copper coins.
“Nice dive, Coba,” Mala said, as the diver collected his coins.
He turned, his eyes widening. “Mala!”
“A man of your talents, performing party tricks for the upper class? How would you like to earn some true coin?”
Coba’s eyes gleamed as he grabbed a cloth towel off a rock. “What you have for me?”
He spoke in very fast broken English. To Will’s untrained ear, his clipped, tonal accent sounded like a mix between Spanish and Chinese.
“I’ll need to purchase your discretion before I disclose the nature of the job. What say you to twenty gold coins to guide us where I want to go?”
Coba stared at her for a moment, then did a standing back flip so fast Will almost blinked and missed it.
“I think I dive into a school of ogre sharks for twenty gold coins.”
Mala smirked. “I thought so.”
“So where we go?”
After glancing around to ensure no one was eavesdropping, Mala said, “To the tomb of Yiknoom Uk’ab K’ahk.”
Coba slapped his knee and then brayed with laughter. “I thought you smarter than that.”
“I have a map.”
Coba wiped his eyes and looked at her as if she were joking. When she didn’t change her expression, his smile slowly retreated, and he curled a finger for them to follow.
A series of caves pockmarked the limestone cliff behind the cove. The young Mayan led them into a ten-foot square hovel with a reed mat and a meager collection of clothes and foodstuffs. Mala took the scroll out of one of her pouches, unrolled it, and set it on the mat. Coba lit a candle and hovered over it, studied the geography, and pointed at the black dot marking the beginning of the map. “Ixmal.”
Will watched Coba’s eyes follow the dotted line as it wound through the jungle. The diver jabbed his finger in the air above the first geographical marker, a pool of water surrounded by life-size stone statues. “I know this, too.”
Mala’s eyes bored into his, and Coba said something in his own language. “The Basin of Blood,” he translated. “A cenote near Chan Kawil.”
“A cenote?” Will asked.
“Natural sinkholes in the limestone,” Mala said. “The peninsula is riddled with them.” She turned back to Coba. “What about the marker after that? The jaguar temple?”
The Mayan shook his head.
“Maybe someone else woul
d know?” she asked, disappointed.
He gave her a sharp look. “No one knows jungle better than me. And no one in right mind goes past Basin of Blood.”
“I see.” She rolled the scroll back up and replaced it in her pouch. “And is my offer enough to induce insanity?”
A shrewd grin split his face. “I jump off cliffs to earn my bread. I never have right mind.”
When Will and Mala returned to the guesthouse, they found everyone congregating in the courtyard. After recounting the meeting with Coba, Mala told the group to be ready to leave at dawn. Their guide said to expect a three-day hike through the jungle to the first marker.
As Selina and Yasmina conversed by a pair of potted banana trees, Mala disappeared to wash. Empty beer mugs littered the table that Will’s cousin and Gunnar had claimed. The mood was upbeat, the calm before the storm, and Mateo waved Will over.
He wanted to dislike the muscled warrior who shared a bed with Mala. He really did. But while Gunnar was not the most intelligent of men, he was brave, strong, and friendly to Will. According to Tamás, Gunnar was an orphan from the Kingdom of Bavaria, found by a Romani clan and raised as one of their own.
So not only was Gunnar a six-foot-six hunk, he was an orphan. Women loved orphans.
“Join us!” Gunnar cried, slapping Will on the back and calling for another round.
A serving boy brought out three more foaming mugs of ale. Mateo raised his glass for a toast. “To a successful journey.”
“Aye,” Gunnar said.
Will clinked glasses with the big man. “So how did you meet Mala?”
Faded scars marked Gunnar’s hands and forearms. He had short dark hair, a cleft chin, and bronzed arms that bulged out of his jerkin. “A swordsman competition in Port Nelson. I claimed second place.”
“Let me guess. Mala beat you in the final.”
Gunnar grinned like a schoolboy. “Half my size and it wasn’t even close. I couldn’t believe a woman could fight like that.”
Probably not much for gender equality, are you, big guy?
