“What is that, Ox?” she asked as he half dragged, half carried her down the hall, looking wildly from room to room.
“It means you’re about to get your wish,” he muttered tensely.
“What wish?” she asked, breaking free from his grasp now that her legs were steady beneath her.
“To face the demons of hell.” Oxivius motioned toward the far end of the corridor with a nod. “Now we hurry and find a battleground of our choosing.”
He grabbed her by the wrist and quickly fled, taking turns and bends as quickly as they came, not even stopping to give the slightest thought as to what direction they were heading.
“Wha—What are you looking for?” she stammered as the necromancer turned a corner.
“Something defendable. Something that will allow us to weather the initial storm long enough for us to escape.”
“Why not head back to the stairs?”
“If the pool below and the landing above are the only exits, those will be the first places they’ll cut off to trap the soul from escaping.”
“So, what do we do?”
“Well, I’d venture a dozen steaks that this kind of thing doesn’t happen often,” Oxivius answered with that damned smirk of his. “We wait and slip away in the confusion.”
They turned another corner and Oxivius came up short, sliding and skittering to a stop. Xlina crashed into his solid back, rubbing her nose as she looked up.
Before them loomed a massive demon. Her waist ran down to a snake-like coil thrice the length of a normal human. Her abdomen was elongated with two extra sets of arms extending from her rib cage. A bare torso exposed pale white skin marked with dozens of scars. A cruel smile revealed dozens of fangs that lined her mouth.
“A Marilith,” Oxivius gasped. The demon rose to its full height on its snake-like body. She drew a curved blood red blade from a sheath behind her back and wielded it with her two uppermost arms. Her lower hands wove sigils in the air, signaling the beginning of a spell.
Chapter Six
The Sanguine Sword
“Down!” Oxivius commanded. The Marilith rose further on her slithering, coiled tail.
Xlina thudded hard on the obsidian floor. A blast of hellfire scorched the air just above her head. Waves of heat singed her skin. The smell of burned hair filled her nose.
Oxivius rushed forward and stood between the looming demon and Xlina’s prone form. Wisps of black smoke curled from his arms and collar as he traced sigils in the air. He was going to return the Marilith’s spell with one of his own.
His hands flashed and shot forth in a cloud of ash made from the burned souls in his skin. Four bone spears shot from the cloud. Xlina had seen him use this spell before—against the witches from the Burnished Rose. The demon let loose a primal howl as two spears hit their target. They pinned her coiled body to the floor. She smacked aside the remaining two spears with a swing of her sanguine sword.
Xlina sprang to her feet and charged forward, fists blazing with the energy of nightmares. She ducked under the backswing of the malevolent demon’s polished blade. Xlina’s strike was fast and true. She leaped for the demon’s lower left shoulder. It cracked with the energy. Bone splintered and joints shattered under the heady cross. The lower left arm hung limply at the demon’s side.
“The sword!” Oxivius called. His voice was desperate. The demon lifted the sword high above her head for a downward strike. Xlina rolled to the side and just barely missed the thunderous chop of the blood red blade. It crashed to the obsidian floor. Cracks cascaded across the stone like a windshield struck by a rock.
Xlina jumped to her feet and leaped from the range of the demon’s next swing. Thank gods the bone spears had immobilized the tailed demon. Xlina leaned heavily on the wall and scanned the scene before her. Oxivius had backed up a dozen strides and was carving more dark sigils into the air. Sweat beaded on his brow, and his body buckled under the strain of casting.
The Marilith pulled on the two nearly six-foot spears driving through her lower torso. Xlina remembered the fight with the Burnished Rose. Oxivius had launched the spears from his hiding place on a fire escape. They’d skewered a witch to the ground in a similar manner. He’d told her not to touch them as they drained the vitality of their victim.
She searched for a safe attack vector to close in on the demon while avoiding her blade and the pointed spears. The Marilith looked up with eerie yellow eyes filled with vitriol. Her forked tongue licked her fangs and eagerly lapped the air before her.
Ox’s voice cut through the air with a dark word in a language Xlina did not understand. It sounded old—archaic. A jet of green acid shot from his hands, splashing the demon on her upper right shoulder and bare torso.
The creature wailed as its skin bubbled like burning soup in a scalding cauldron. Massive boils rose and burst into burned flesh, exploding across the demon’s white skin. The shoulder smoldered and sizzled as the flesh burned away, showing red sinew and tissue stretched over bone. Xlina marveled at the sheer destructive force. Her gaze turned to Ox in awe, and she saw the horrific cost of his power.
His hands blistering with the same boils, and his skin melted away. His fingers were crimson and roasted to the bone. He grunted and thudded heavily on the wall to hold himself up.
“Ox!” Xlina gasped, her voice barely more than a whisper. He stumbled against the wall. Black ashy smoke curled around him in thick clouds. The stench of his magic filled the hallway—the smell of death and decay. The smell was foreign to the demon in this hellscape, where flesh regenerated and death was meaningless. The Marilith’s face contorted as she used her sanguine blade to cleave the bone spears pinning her in place. Her top right shoulder continued to pop and grind as the cartilage burned away. With a clumsy strike, the demon cleaved the end of the bone spears, so that they rose only inches from her scales.
This was the opening Xlina needed. She vaulted forward as the blade once again snapped through the spears and crashed toward the floor. The upper shoulder bent low, its exposed joint perfect for Xlina’s strike. She barreled in, her right arm coiled back and her left extended. She leaped high and swung with all her might. Her enhanced fist landed on the demon’s back. The shoulder burst with the torrent of power.
Nightmare energy cascaded over the demon’s upper torso in a combination of flames and lighting as Xlina willed her Baku magic into the strike. The energy singed and burned the monster’s flesh as the top right arm fell dead. The demon lurched back and contorted its face in rage. Xlina refused to relent. The demon would pull itself free as soon as it had a chance. Oxivius could keep hammering the demon, but for how long? How much could his body take? Xlina had no choice but to continue to strike.
The Marilith was a creature of speed. Its size gave it an advantage—it had reach both from its form and its wicked blade. Xlina had little time to think. Her feet landed on its torso and lower hip. She spread her legs and wrapped around the Marilith’s body at its narrowest point. She clutched the biceps of the middle arms and held on with all her might.
The demon hissed and snapped at her head. She clung tightly and buried her head just below the beast’s breast. The lower right arm swatted and smacked her lower back. The middle arms wrapped behind her. The demon locked her hands and squeezed.
The demon squeezed Xlina’s lungs like a boa constrictor. It would squeeze her innards out of her mouth like a tube of toothpaste if she did not act quickly. She clawed and dug into the biceps of the middle arms now, crushing her chest. She remembered all the nightmares shown her in the river of blood. Her boyfriend. Her family. The many nights she dreamed of killing Amber.
In the dream, nightmare energy cracked through her hands in a focused torrent. She’d blasted Amber’s heart clean away. Her friend’s limp body had lain against her.
Xlina had seen the dream so many times. She had relived that horrific moment in the river of blood below the obsidian palace. She had carried all her grief, all her suffering, with no escape.
S
he released that pain, that anguish, with a feral scream. Her nightmare energy blazed to life, sheathing her hands in crackling violet blue flames. She clawed at the monster’s biceps and seared away flesh and muscle alike. Xlina howled, her guilt and anger surging forth. When the last of her cries burst forth, her hands gripped nothing but bone. The Marilith’s middle arms released their hold on her back and fell helplessly.
She turned to see Ox beside her. He clutched the upper left arm that wielded the blade. His feet dug into the creature’s hip just above the remaining bone spears. His full weight pulled on the arm. He stopped the demon from cleaving Xlina in two.
“Bloody good fun,” he grunted as the demon shook its sword arm wildly, attempting to free itself from the necromancer’s stubborn hold. Xlina nodded with a look of determination as she ascended the demon’s torso. Her right hand shot up and grabbed an exposed rib, which she used to pull herself up. Her left shot up next and found a hold on the demon’s collar bone as it wailed and snapped in anger. Xlina pulled herself up still, the collar bone yawed and strained from the broken shoulder and gave way, snapping clean from the creature’s neck. It howled as Xlina fell back, her right hand still locked on the rib and her left falling free, still clinging to the splintered collarbone. The demon had two good arms left, the top left most, which brandished the sanguine blade and the bottom right which batted at Xlina’s stomach, trying to pry the determined Baku from her torso where the demon could use its size advantage. Oxivius held the left arm in a bear hug, wrapping it tightly around the elbow joint and pulling down he had been successful at immobilizing the limb. Xlina gripped the collar bone tightly in her left hand. It was curved roughly six inches and came to a sharp end where it had splintered away from the shoulder. The demon lurched forward with its gaping maw snapping and biting at Xlina’s face. As the demon’s neck bend forward awkwardly, her fangs drew ever closer to Xlina’s face, which was no longer buried against the torso. Xlina saw the fangs bearing down on her, could feel the hot breath of the demon on her face, and smell the foul demon’s poison laced breath. On instinct, she plunged her left forward, driving the sharp end of the collar bone into the demon’s yellow eye. The bone sunk deep, effortlessly into the soft jelly like tissue and Xlina pushed on until her knuckle found the bone lining the eye socket. Blood and ichor seeped over her hand as she howled defiantly, pushing the demon’s head back as she wrenched the collar bone in the eye socket. The loud clang of the sword bouncing off the floor was all that caused her to stop.
“Xlina,” Oxivius gasped, dropping to the floor with a heavy thud. She hung for a moment. Her right hand wrapped around an exposed rib for support, her legs scissored around the torso just below the lowest shoulder joints. Xlina released the collar bone and gingerly dropped from the Marilith. Landing next to Oxivius on the floor. She looked up at the demon in awe. Its lower snake body was still pinned against the corridor wall, though only inches of the bone spears still protruded from the front. The six arms flopped down at its sides helplessly. The torso was smoldering from the navel up the right shoulder, exposing bone and organ. The remaining fragment of collarbone jut out from the neck where it had snapped off on her ascent and its head lolled back as if frozen in a stare at the ceiling.
“We killed it,” Xlina huffed, only now, with her adrenaline fleeting, did she feel the acid burning at her clothes and skin. Remnants of Oxivius’ spell that had rubbed off as she clung to the demon’s torso.
“No, not killed,” Oxivius huffed, finding his way to his feet. “Just subdued. Nothing I fear truly dies here, rather it is only consumed.”
“Consumed?” Xlina asked as she patted her smoking yoga pants, which were now tattered and torn with holes up and down her legs.
“Yes, consumed love,” Oxivius replied as he brushed and straightened his shirt absently, “Whether it be human souls or other demons, the things here don’t die. They are just consumed by demons. Part of a warped food chain. If you’ll pardon me.”
Oxivius moved to the Marilith and withdrew his pocketknife. He looked at the abdomen on the side that had not been tainted with acid. He moved cautiously, like he was having a hard time deciding on where to cut. Xlina knew what was about to happen. She knew the Lamia heritage that marked Oxivius as a death eater. He needed to recover his strength. Understanding did not mean she could watch without the feeling of utter repulsion. Instead, she focused on the sanguine sword on the floor. Its hilt was made of polished bone and was long enough for two of the demon’s hands. The cross guard looked like a circle of hooked fangs that pointed up toward the tip of the blade. She heard the wet slicing of flesh followed by Oxivius’ grunts as she lifted the blade. It was lighter than she expected for its size. The blade was long and about an inch and a half wide, with a slight curve that started mid-way up the sanguine metal. The tip flared larger than the width of the blade, gaining about a half inch at the top. The curved blade was meant for slashing over piercing.
“Claim your trophy, Xlina,” Oxivius signaled from behind. She turned, looking at the lamia, the death eater. The corners of his mouth dripped fresh blood, and he smiled wickedly. He held the sheath from the demon’s back in both hands as if presenting it with a slight bow. She quickly slid the sword into the sheath and as the blade disappeared into the crimson leather sheath, the hooked teeth on the cross guard slammed shut, digging into recesses in the sheath and locking the blade into place. She let out a yelp of surprise as the sword bound shut.
“Here a fine weapon for a fine warrior,” Oxivius finished pushing the sheath into her hands. “Come, we must not delay; I fear more foul creatures will quickly be on us and the Marilith has already begun to reform.”
She looked on the Marilith and indeed the white skin had already woven and mesh anew. She swallowed hard, realizing the depth of the torment in this place. There was no end in this place, just eternal suffering. She allowed her hand to drift over her own mark, Valeria’s seal, which lie emblazoned on her ribs just under her breast. Unless a way to break the mark could be found, this too would be her fate. This eternal torment at the hands of Valeria’s patron, whomever or whatever hellish monstrosity that was. She felt a wave of anxiety roil over her body as she slung the sanguine blade and its sheath over her shoulder, fastening it to her body tightly.
“What next?” She asked stoically, trying to push the overwhelming feeling of dread deep inside. Oxivius stood for a moment, staring at her, before grinning and moving down the corridor in the direction the Marilith had appeared.
“Come love,” Oxivius replied in his roguish way, “My meal settles heavy, but it was well worth the price. This way.”
“You saw a way out?” She asked inquisitively as she moved in step with the necromancer. His lamia heritage was more than simply to consume flesh. He could devour traces of the being soul if it had one, locking it in his flesh to fuel his necromancy. Not just that, but as he had with the witches of the Burnished Rose back in Portland, he could get divinatory like glimpses of their life. Surface thoughts and memories of those he consumed. She had seen him do so in the alley near her apartment. It was awe-inspiring and chilling at the same time. She tried not to think about his heritage most of the time, whose grisly traits seemed so opposed to the gentle and kind man she knew. He was a paradox, a duality of sorts. At one moment ever the gentleman fussing over his prim and proper demeanor. The next, a truly horrifying being of raw power surrounded by death and decay that consumed the flesh of those around him. Oxivius was like two sides of the same coin, two extremes battling over his being. He was both the gentleman and the monster, and yet he was neither.
“Indeed, I saw a way,” he replied stoically, “And I saw a glimpse of an answer to a long-forgotten question. An answer I simply must have, love.”
“Well, that sounds ominous,” Xlina replied, keeping pace as the necromancer darted through hallways and corridors as if he now knew the layout of the whole compound.
“There is something I must see,” he answered as he turne
d the corner and brimmed with a wide smile at the sight of stairs that lead down into the darkness. “It will not be pleasant, love.”
“Unpleasantness?” Xlina balked with a huff. “And it’s been such a delightful trip through hell so far?”
“That’s a girl,” Oxivius nodded in affirmation, taking her sarcasm as agreement to see his detour.
“Let us just be quick about it,” Xlina replied, looking nervously back down the corridor behind them. “I can almost feel the seething hatred of that Marilith demon behind us.”
“And I’m sure she’ll be mad as a hornet,” Oxivius responded as he lifted his hand and summoned the will-o-wisp again before them, lighting the way into the dark depths.
“What’s down there,” Xlina asked, peering into the dully lit stairwell.
“It’s called the spawning,” Oxivius replied stoically.
“Sounds delightful,” Xlina answered, treading carefully down the dimly lit stairs below.
“Of all the horrors we have seen,” Oxivius replied gravely, “I fear the worst is beyond that door.”
He came to a stop at the bottom of the stairwell behind a giant gold door. It was lavishly ornate, opulent even by a king’s standard. It stood nearly ten feet tall in an arched frame of black obsidian. The door was intricately inlaid with a pattern of script and gems. She felt like she could stare at its markings for hours and not see a fragment of the detail in the door before her.
“What is this, a treasure room?” She marveled, her hand sliding over the gold door, feeling the carvings under her fingertips as she wove them around a dozen inlaid gems. “This door must be worth a fortune.”
The clamor of voices came from the corridor up the stair behind them. Oxivius looked back sourly and then returned his glare to the door, his eyes transfixed with renewed determination he pressed on the gold door and it gave way, swinging open to reveal the chamber beyond.
“Well, love,” Oxivius continued, looking at her with sad eyes, “The end of our journey awaits.”
Dirge of the Dead Page 8
