A lopsided grin from Sheqer was all Pavel got as a reply.
***
“Samandar. Two of them. Large ones,” said Sheqer.
The term stoked a nascent memory in Pavel’s mind. Large lizard-like creatures with an affinity for fire. They could walk on two legs if they wanted to, and some kinds exuded a toxic slimy substance that coated their bodies if the flames protecting their bodies were somehow removed. The monsters were fast creatures and sometimes could use human weapons.
Nothing like a red-hot axe heading one’s way, mused the Azat.
“What kind?” he asked the bard.
“What do you mean, what kind?” came the bewildered query.
“The kind that spits fire, the poison one, or ordinary samandari?” replied Pavel, using the plural form.
“How would I know? They all give out the same emanation,” said Sheqer. “We’ll know anyway when we go inside the chamber.”
The duo had stopped before an ancient, gigantic two-paneled entrance. It was closed and was located in a large, spacious area right after the last corridor. High-ceilinged, the space seemed to be a reception area. Stone benches, overrun with mold and grime, were at the sides. Inexplicably, whatever preservative magic the temple complex had didn’t extend to the seats carved into the rock. Almost vanished rusted remnants of iron rings could be seen in the rock armrests.
To his surprise, after the garish eyeful of sculpted décor along the hallways which hurt the eyes when one stared at them for some time, the spacious chamber appeared to be bereft of such terrible and mind-numbing artifacts. But the huge doors were another matter. They might lack the horrible stone figures which marked the passageways, but the strange sigils which filled the surface of the panels were disturbing. They were clearly magical but didn’t glow or even shimmer. But Pavel noticed that when he glanced at them peripherally, the damned things appeared to move. Not in an amusing way, either.
The man didn’t reply to the bard’s comment about the samandari. Then he noticed Sheqer looking at the ceiling. Following the bard’s lead, he glimpsed parts of an embedded design. He tried to figure it out, but it was too high, and the lighting dim. Pavel hoped it wasn’t another trap or new devilish conjuration.
“What’s that?” he asked Sheqer.
“An occult circle of some sort,” answered the bard.
“I know that, and anybody with half a mind could see that,” remarked the Azat resignedly. “You know what I mean.”
“Just messing with my favorite Master. But it is an arcane band. I admit its purpose baffles me, considering we’re still both here. Very ancient, and if I were to venture a guess, it was created when this complex was established,” the bard told the man.
“Dangerous? A trap?” asked Pavel, his muscles tensing at the possibility.
“It could be in the right hands. I don’t think the present residents understand it either. I certainly don’t, and for a demon with my rank and experience, that’s something,” remarked Sheqer haughtily.
Pavel thought about what the demon said. It was now apparent that their foes were not of the race that built the warren of passageways and secret rooms they had passed. They were merely transients, even squatters. But the whole place itself reeked of magic. Dark and malign. It could be a residue of what happened before, or the entire structure itself was steeped in such a power. Such a malevolent, magical environment would definitely help in the casting of related spells by way of sympathetic resonance. Still, it didn’t mean their enemies had managed to directly tap into the source of power of the place. In a way, it was good news.
But the chamber beyond the closed doors was another matter. It exuded magic of considerable might. That didn’t bode well, thought the man, yet into the dragon’s maw they had to go. He wasn’t sure of whether the expression said dragon in this world. It could be hyena for all he knew. Pavel stared at the doors, trying to make sense of the arrangement of the symbols, even as he didn’t understand what they meant. Thankfully, they didn’t move if one looked at them directly. After a while, he gave up. The blasted thing also didn’t encourage examination. Prolonged scrutiny invited nausea and dizziness.
“Your turn,” he told the demon as he averted his gaze.
“I disagree. I saw what that exercise did to you. But the situation begs the question of why these bronze things were closed. If we were meant to be ushered into the presence of that witch, the doors would be open. I believe the room isn’t the trap, it’s the door,” said a smug Sheqer.
Pavel gave the sealed gateway a hasty glance. The demon was right, and the Azat admitted he wasn’t thinking. He was too fixated on the monsters waiting just beyond the door.
“I’ll take care of the door, but you handle those fire lizards,” he abruptly told the demon.
“Why me?”
“You like the same environment. You know what I mean,” snapped Pavel.
“That’s an insult. Hellfire isn’t the same as mere magical fire,” retorted Sheqer touchily.
The man sensed a senseless argument was starting to arise. The demon could be testy when it thought its pride was at stake. Pavel inwardly sighed. Arrogance was really the hallmark of demons of whatever color, rank, stripe, or form, he reflected. The ancient mages were right.
“Listen, let’s make this simple. You handle those fire monsters, and I’ll try – remember I said try – to give you an opportunity against the bitch. And I mean to tear out her heart, not woo her,” offered the Azat.
“Agreed.”
The man stood before the great door. It was tall, but at least he could see the arch where the head of the slabs ended. He covered the entire surface with a thin layer of chaos energy. The Azat sensed a strong, repulsing reaction from the bronze gateway. Whatever magic protected the door didn’t like what the man was doing, and he hadn’t even forced anything yet. Pavel was but masking the surface with the power he was releasing. Then he felt the door suddenly start to get hot. Instinct told him that an adverse feedback was starting to build up. Whoever enchanted the door clearly believed in the pre-emptive use of offensive magic.
With a shout, Pavel released the wall of energy he had created, forcing it against the surface of the slab, and at the same time, fed more power into it. The now substantial force borne out of chaos slammed into the protected door. It burned out the engraved arcane symbols, and with a massive explosive blast, threw the huge panels into the chamber, tearing them out from their thick hinges. As the large metal surfaces flew through the air, the man could see they were headed toward a raised stone platform with a throne on it. Standing before the seat was the woman they had seen back in the passageway, the one who started waking all those masan and masani.
The entity raised the staff she held in her right hand, and a visible barrier erupted into existence between the podium and the flying slabs of bronze. The large metal panels struck the shield, creating a second and louder crash. Dust rose, filling the space within, and through the swirling mass of disturbed dirt, Pavel saw masses of fire moving toward the now-opened entrance.
“I don’t think there’s merely two samandari,” he told the bard calmly.
“I’m not blind. I could see that,” replied Sheqer.
“They’re all yours, no need to thank me,” said Pavel, his attention on the witch.
***
Yet even as the metal slabs smashed into the witch’s barrier, Pavel had released a flurry of chaos energy lances toward where he last saw the woman. The distance was considerable, and he had not tried flinging his constructs that far, but the Azat knew he had to attempt it. The creature was the most dangerous entity in the chamber. He wasn’t concerned about the barrier created by the witch. So far, chaos energy paid no heed to the magical protections he had encountered. The destroyed doorway was yet another proof of his conviction.
In the meantime, the samandari were rapidly closing in. Then he saw the energy spears smash into the shield and disappear. The magical obstacle was visibly affected as Pav
el saw that it buckled under the impact and the disk-like barrier became smaller, shrinking its coverage. But the failure was no comfort to the man. He was shocked at the inability of chaos energy to pierce the barrier, much less destroy it.
“A spell of Order. Now that’s surprising. I didn’t expect that. Of course, it would resist the energies you released,” came the bard’s comment. “Time for my show then. You handle the witch. Looks like she’s a handful.”
“No! Stop! Don’t go in. Fight them out here. They’re more powerful inside that room. I’ll bet they’re drawing from its energy,” warned Pavel, as he pulled the bard back.
As he did so, a powerful surge of power flared up and raced to the open doorway, carrying with it the obscuring dust which filled the chamber. The pair were picked up by the force and thrown to the painful waiting walls beside the corridor’s mouth.
Pavel expected a counter spell directed against him. It suddenly occurred to him that the latest conjuration was meant to clear the air and provide visibility for their foe. It also indicated the witch needed a clear line of sight to target them with her spells.
“Move to that side of the room so she can’t see us!” Pavel shouted at the bard as he himself swiftly rolled and crawled to his side of the area. Dust was still coming out of the inner chamber and pushing its way up the passageway.
As he neared the wall, he saw a massive, fiery hulk emerge from the entrance. He instinctively flung a chaos spear at the monster. The lance followed its upward trajectory and pierced the flaming body through its stomach and somehow exploded as it exited through the neck. The now headless creature fell on its back with a loud crash.
“What in the blazes are these fellows? They’re not pure samandari! They’re more demon than large flaming lizards!” cried out Sheqer just as another rushed out and turned to the bard, attracted by his loud voice. Pavel, despite everything, noticed the use of the word fellows by Sheqer. Not monster or creature. The bard was using a more benign description. The Azat hoped it was a good sign.
The man saw that the bard waited for a few seconds for the samandar to come closer and then leaped on the creature, covering its body with a dark, smoky mass. Yet the dark cloud retained a demon’s horrifying face with five horns perched on its head. Gaunt arms with claws too many to count grabbed the fiery monster in a savage embrace.
The black mist expanded, becoming a huge cloak, and Pavel saw Sheqer’s ugly, frightful, and fanged face dip and disappear under its cover. The terrible cloud abruptly vanished, leaving a bard in its wake. Sheqer happily looked at the Azat.
“It’s an abomination, borne out of demonic form and a samandar. And it’s using hellfire,” the bard gleefully reported. “They’re all mine!”
“Then get them to your side. Don’t expose yourself in that open entrance!” warned Pavel frantically, worried that the demon might be too absorbed in what he was doing.
“Oh, I will, Most Beneficent Master. I do admit I am hungry,” grinned Sheqer, just as another samandar reached the entrance. The demon was clearly dizzy with joy. Pavel would have felt happy for him if not for the memory of the demon’s true form.
“Hey, imp! Over here!” shouted the demon delightedly. “Move your flaming fat ass!”
22
The Great Hunt
Nine lives, indeed,
he reflected.
I could lose all of them inside that room.
By the time Sheqer was finished, he had feasted on six of the monsters. The one Pavel killed made the seventh. The man had to witness the bard’s horrifying and dreadfully silent way of feeding every time. None of his victims had been able to cry out in fear or anger. Pavel assumed the demonic cloak of mist must have something to do with it.
To his amazement, Pavel wasn’t repelled or disgusted by what he saw. It was unbelievably horrible, but it didn’t turn his stomach or fill him with revulsion. He did speculate that other mortals might have been driven mad by the sight of the demon feeding.
But the Azat was now more concerned about the amount of magical energy available to the witch, and the use of a conjuration of Order likewise raised so many questions. It suggested the witch had more spells at her disposal. It also clarified what happened.
The bard had initially sensed only two of the samandar, which meant the rest were conjured when the pair paused at the door. That, and the spell which hid the number of the monsters inside the chamber, indicated that the available magical energy inside the room was still ample even after such a long time. It posed a significant problem.
Pavel hoped it had already been depleted somewhat. Manifesting such creatures was not a minor conjuration. It meant five summoning spells had been cast, not to mention the spell of hiding and the barrier created by an incantation of Order.
He might have been a mere Azat, but even the man knew that casting a spell which was different from one’s affinity required more than twice the usual drain of energy from the mage, or in this instance, a witch. The man looked at the bard who wore a dark glow around his form and seemed to be taller than usual.
The arrogant demonic nugget must be bursting with satiety, he concluded. It was an observation buttressed by the look of stupid satisfaction on Sheqer’s face. Pavel also doubted if any samandari remained, though he suspected the witch was conserving energy for their inevitable confrontation.
Amidst the settling dust and ghastly memory of the feeding demon, he wondered about two things. One was dealt with the surprising ability of Sheqer to hide his true nature from the witch. Pavel assumed the demon’s concealment was still effective. Otherwise, their foe would have marked the bard first in her priority. After all, what she knew before was that she was hunting a mere a mortal, and, as a human, Pavel didn’t pose that much of a threat, even if the witch believed him to be a battlemage. The second was how to finish off the half-demon witch. Inside the chamber, she seemed extremely formidable.
But the being now knew about Pavel’s ability to use the power of Chaos. If she didn’t before, then the energy spikes gave it away. The only thing she didn’t know was that the bard was a demon. That is, if what Sheqer said about his demonic aura being undetectable except to a few entities was still correct in the glare of the power within the waiting chamber.
But the Azat also considered that if she thought the bard was a demon, the samandari wouldn’t have been sent after them. They oozed hellfire, as the bard discovered, and that merely meant food for a hellish entity of a higher rank. There was no doubt that his glutton of a companion gained power from the dead hulks now displayed on the floor of the space.
Possible solutions raced through the man’s mind. All direct attacks wouldn’t work, considering the level of power the witch had while she remained inside the chamber. Then he suddenly grasped the fact that the witch would still be focused on him. Pavel was also sure that he was held responsible for the loss of the samandari.
That meant between the two dirty and uncertain beings in the reception area before the chamber, the witch would still consider the bard to be the lesser threat, that is, if she saw Sheqer as a danger at all.
The man motioned for the bard to come over. The demon vanished and reappeared instantaneously at Pavel’s side, startling the Azat. Sheqer’s power seemed to have increased, and even the strength of the demon showed it. The man could sense the change in his companion’s aura. Considering what he wanted Sheqer to do, it was a welcome progression as far as Pavel was concerned.
He grinned and looked at the demon. Sheqer saw his expression, and the mirth abruptly vanished.
“I don’t what that means. This is going to be the lake again, I assume?” said the bard slowly. The man almost laughed at the sudden change in the demon’s mood and the look on Sheqer’s face.
“Not as bad, my friend,” whispered Pavel. “How are you at bringing down a mountain?”
“That’s a job for deities,” replied Sheqer with trepidation when he recovered from momentarily gawking at his Master.
“
I might have exaggerated. What I meant was that chamber, or specifically where your bitch is located,” clarified the man, voice still low.
“Ah. That I could do,” said the bard.
“Despite the strange – unknown – kind of magic which preserved this temple?” inquired the man. Pavel wanted to be sure. This time, he was going to be the bait.
“I don’t have to deal with the entire magical matrix of the complex, merely a tiny, negligible part of it. Consider the entire thing as a wall of steel. Destroying it is not what we intend to do, but merely poke a minuscule hole in its vast surface. Focused demonic energy could handle that,” explained Sheqer.
“Fine. Let’s go. I’ll raise a dust cloud as your cover when I enter. Try to bring her down as quickly as you can. No telling how long I’ll be able to hold out,” instructed the man sternly.
“You still have nine lives, Master,” said Sheqer with a chuckle.
The man cuffed the demon as he moved toward the entrance
Nine lives, indeed, he reflected. I could lose all of them inside that room.
***
A mass of fear tried to choke Pavel as he neared the opening. The dragon’s maw, came the grim reminder. Or the hyena’s mouth, followed another thought, this time with amusement. The man wondered what there was to be amused about.
Suddenly, he was at the entryway, facing the waiting horned entity who was now seated on the throne. At his appearance, the woman swiftly stood up, sending a blast of power his way. The man noticed that she had done away with her veil, and her horns strutted prominently above her head. Pavel ducked and quickly moved sideways to his left, sending an energy mass of his own to counter the magical attack.
The blast he released flew upward and continued all the way to the ceiling as it effortlessly dissolved the deadly dart of energy from the witch. His counterattack hit the stone with a deafening crash, and pieces of rock started to fall from the curved roof. Pavel was startled by what happened even as he flung a wave of force against the ground, creating a dust storm within the chamber again. A momentary glance revealed a thin tendril of dark smoke snaking its way across the threshold and into the space. He threw chaos spears again at the dais, continuing to move forward along the pillars decorating the sides of the room.
My Name is Ruin Page 23
