Slaves of Dardekum: The Lightbringer, Book 1

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Slaves of Dardekum: The Lightbringer, Book 1 Page 21

by Jake Stone


  As we press on, I’m able to make out an exit up ahead—a round glare of light, that seems to be the mouth of another section. When I reach it, I see that it’s a grey cavern the size of a high school gym lighted by more torches hanging along the walls.

  At the opposite end, there’s a raised dais made of stone looming over the entire cavern, while right before it, lying on a grey slab of concrete, I spot a young woman in a white nightgown, sleeping.

  “Rachel!”

  I almost leap out at her, anxious to see if she’s okay. But Danzin’s voice holds me back.

  “Don’t even think about,” he says, initiating the power charge of his sidearm.

  It’s then, as I hold myself at bay, that I see a slim figure in a long cloak appearing from the darkness.

  “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Skartecks’ voice is as smooth as a snake gliding over the desert to catch a mouse. In the firelight, I see his metal jaw and cringe at the horror of it. “If it isn’t the wannabe slaver from Earth. Was wondering when you were going to show up again.”

  “I caught him at the base of the stairs,” Danzin says. “He was hiding behind the corner, waiting for his chance to pop out and kill us.”

  “Is that right?” Skarteck says, nodding in approval. “What about the guards up front?”

  Behind us, I hear footsteps hurrying down the passage. It’s one of the mutants Danzin had ordered to check out front, no doubt rushing back to tell him about the two bodies I left outside for them. Shit, I’m so fucked. My only hope now is that Skarteck gets pissed off enough to kill Danzin. But that’s highly unlikely.

  “What’d you find?” Danzin whispers to the mutant. He doesn’t want Skarteck to hear.

  “Dead,” the mutant grumbles.

  Danzin sighs.

  “Well?” Skarteck asks, waiting.

  “Not good,” Danzin finally answers.

  Skarteck sighs in disappointment. Danzin has failed him once again. “Tie him up.”

  Desperate to regain his boss’s favor, Danzin shoves me hard to my knees. He pulls my arms behind my back and crosses my wrists, tying them together with some kind of rope. I wince as he gives it a hard tug.

  Already, the other mutants from upstairs have begun trickling down into the cavern, appearing around me with pulsers of their own. With these many guards, there’s no way I’m getting out of here with Rachel.

  “You know,” Skarteck begins as he starts to pace around me. “I’ve captured a lot of animals out in the desert. Some big; some small. Some thin; some fat. Some pretty; some…not so much. But I’ve never caught something that keeps coming back to me. Now why is that?”

  “For Rachel,” I say through clenched teeth.

  Skarteck glances back at the stone slab where she’s lying asleep, a wicked grin touching the human side of his face. “So that’s her name,” he says. “You know, she never told me, even when I slapped the shit out of her.”

  “You touched her?” I seethe in anger.

  “Not like that,” he says calmly. “It was made clear to me that she remain…unharmed. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to. Or that my men didn’t either. In fact, Danzin had to kill at least a dozen of these horny mutants to keep them from grabbing her ass. Shame really, not enjoying a piece of ass like that. That’s what the world is you know, walking talking ass.”

  “And what the fuck are you?” I ask, glaring up at him in defiance.

  He leans into my face, the rusted metal of his jaw appearing like a disease in the firelight. His stench hasn’t changed. He still smells like shit. “I’m something revived,” he whispers menacingly. “And soon, with the aid of my new benefactor, I’ll become something else.”

  “You’re nothing but a piece-of-shit pimp,” I say. “A dirty rat in a cloak who a scorpion wouldn’t fuck.”

  Behind me, one of the mutants standing nearby erupts in laughter. It’s an impromptu reaction—one that he quickly puts an end to when he realizes the graveness of his mistake.

  Skarteck looks up at him and frowns. It doesn’t take Danzin long to realize what he must do. He aims his gun at the mutant’s head and fires, killing the mutant where he stands.

  “That one’s on you,” Skarteck says accusingly at Danzin.

  “Sorry, boss,” Danzin says.

  It takes the slaver a moment to regain his composure. He tugs the lapels of his duster and cranes his neck. When he’s done, he turns his attention back to me. “You’re a brave, little asshole, you know that?”

  “What can I say, it’s a gift.”

  “Not anymore it ain’t.” Danzin presses the barrel of his gun to the back of my head and I wince, knowing that I’m only a couple of seconds away from dying. “Just say the word, boss.”

  “Hold up,” Skarteck says, pulling out what looks to be a bowie knife from his utility belt. The blade is long and jagged, and there’s a metal skull at the butt of it. He runs the edge of it along my jaw, like a caress, and I feel the sharpness of its razor-like blade. “First I want to carve my reflection into him, as a farewell gift.”

  “Go ahead,” I say. “Just let Rachel go.”

  He snorts. “And why should I do that? You don’t have any leverage here.”

  “I beg to differ,” a voice says from somewhere in the distance.

  Skarteck looks up at the voice, his mouth falling agape when he sees who it is. Turning around, I check to see what he’s looking at, relieved to find four beautiful women armed in grey armor standing at the mouth of the cave.

  “Release him and step away,” Atia commands, aiming a gold-tipped spear at him.

  “Captain Atia Valora,” Skarteck says, his knife falling casually from his hand as he subtly reaches for the sidearms at his waist. “To think I had you in my possession and let you go.”

  “You didn’t let me go,” Atia replies haughtily. “I escaped. And now you’ll pay for your transgressions.”

  “The hell I will.”

  Skarteck draws his sidearms in a flash, hailing her and the other Purifiers with a barrage of plasma fire. The act sets off the charge. Mutants draw their weapons and begin to fire as well. But they’re clumsy creatures, untrained pawns who can’t shoot for shit.

  Petronelous lops off the head of one of the mutants before it can even aim, while Zorel goes off on an killing spree, evaporating every ugly bastard she sees. Chun Hei, on the other hand, takes her time, but she’s smooth and a wonder with her sniper rifle. She wields it like a short-ranged weapon. It’s incredible to watch.

  Atia’s different. She ignores it all, choosing Skarteck for her kill. She cuts through the fighting with a series of slashes and strikes that leaves a swath of dead mutants and mercenaries in her wake. She’s a merciless fighter, one that never stops, even as Skarteck rails into her with plasma bolts.

  Amidst the fighting, I try to free myself. I fall forward and roll onto my back. Skarteck’s knife is close by. I pick it up. The blade cuts through the rope with ease, and I’m suddenly freed. But not safe.

  “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Danzin asks, aiming his sidearm at me.

  I toss dirt into his eyes, and roll to the side, barely escaping the bolts of plasma firing from his sidearm. He cringes as his eyes water, and I take the opportunity to bat the gun from his hand, plunging the length of Skarteck’s knife into his throat.

  He gasps as his windpipe collapses. He falls to the floor, his hands reaching for his neck, blood spilling over his fingers. He looks up at me with a pleading look. I turn away.

  All around me, the fighting continues. It’s a gross display of death. Mutants cry out in pain as they’re brutally cut down. All that’s left is Skarteck.

  He holds off Atia with his guns, firing at her with every breath. But she’s too fast for him. She dodges and feints, placing her faith in the thickness of her armor, which holds true. Eventually, his guns run dry, and he’s backed against the wall, helpless.

  “I guess there’s no way we can make a deal, huh?”
he asks, trying to persuade her with a smile. But his face has already rotted. And whatever charm he once had is now gone.

  “There’ll be no deals,” Atia declares.

  “But there’ll be a trial,” he says in defiance, his smile twisting into a spiteful grin. “And I have a lot of friends who have a vested interest in my silence.”

  “Well, then,” Atia says. “Let us calm their fears once and for all, shall we?”

  Skarteck’s eyes widen as he realizes his fate. She’s not going to let him go, not this time. He lets out a grunt as she rams the tip of her spear under his jaw, thrusting the length of the blade into his brain and out the top of his skull. His eyes roll back in their sockets, and a weak breath escapes his lips.

  Satisfied, Atia pulls her spear from beneath his jaw and steps back, watching as the slaver’s body falls to the ground in a heap. “It is done,” she says.

  “Captain,” Zorel says, marching up behind her. “What now?”

  Atia surveys the cavern. “We see to the girl.”

  I sprint as fast as I can, reaching Rachel in a heartbeat. “Rachel! Wake up. We have to go.” But there’s no response. She’s asleep, passed out beyond awakening. It’s the sedative, I realize. The same one from the auction.

  Damnit, I’m going to have to carry her out of here on my own. About to lift her up, I realize that her wrists are chained to the rock beneath her. The manacles are thick metal contraptions with a sliver for a key. Pulling a tool from my belt, I begin to work the lock. But it’s no use.

  “Damnit,” I curse.

  “Is she hurt?” Atia asks, sidling next to me.

  “I don’t know,” I say.

  “These chains,” Atia observes. “They’re too thick.”

  “You can’t break them?”

  “No,” she says. “They’re not any metal I’ve ever encountered before.”

  “Fuck,” I curse, my jaw clenching in anger. Frustrated, I glance at Atia, barely struck by the realization that she’s here. “How’d you find me?"

  “The tracking device,” she says. “The second one I took from the supplies on our last mission. I put it in your vest when we were at the auction.”

  I frown. “But if you knew where I was, why didn’t you arrest me?”

  Before she can answer my question, I hear the sound of laughter rising from behind the dais, and I see a dark figure strolling into the light.

  The figure has its arms crossed behind its back, a long chain with the corfew hanging low against its dark robe. I know that shape, I’ve seen it before. Squinting into the shadow, I gasp as I see Tulgas smiling at me like an old friend. “Yes,” he says. “Why indeed?”

  “The corruption of the church has been known to me for some time,” Atia reveals to her mentor, her face hardening in disgust. “As well as your…dealings with the slavers.”

  “Interesting,” Tulgas says, genuinely intrigued. “And how was this possible?”

  “My first suspicions arose when you refused the position of Gaideck.”

  “But how could you have deduced so much from something as simple as that?” Tulgas asks.

  “As Gaideck, you would’ve been required to remain at the palace, no longer allowed to travel into the city, where you could meet with your slave partners.”

  “I was never their partner,” Tulgas says. “Their work disgusts me.”

  “Yet, you worked with them just the same,” Atia says.

  “Wait a second,” I say, my realization slowly dawning on me. “You were behind all this?”

  “Of course, he was,” Atia says. “He’s been orchestrating this from the start. But I have to admit; it wasn’t until he accepted the removal of his position with such grace that I knew for sure. Now you would be free to live amongst the populace, free to spread your evil.”

  “But he let me go,” I say.

  “I let you go,” Atia says. “It was I who instructed Chun Hei to help you escape. And it was I who had her confess to the beshai afterward. I knew you were important to him, that he would seek you out. I just didn’t know why.”

  My mouth falls agape. “So I was bait?”

  “I’m sorry,” Atia says. “But I did what I had to.”

  Tulgas begins to laugh. “I see, the student has truly become the master. I guess it is true what they say about you, Atia. You really don’t trust anyone.”

  “I only have one question,” Atia says. “Why? Why betray us? Why betray the people?”

  “Because man is a hypocrite,” Tulgas answers. “For all his time in the galaxy, he has only killed and tortured. There’s nothing redeemable about him. You know this! You’ve seen them! Elected officials stealing from the poor. Clergymen buying young slaves to pleasure themselves behind closed doors. My own people, worshipers of the church, those I serve day after day—all hypocrites! But not anymore. Now, they will face the truth of their sins. Now, they will know penance.”

  I lift my head at the sound of stomping. The sound is massive, and I feel as if the very ground is shaking beneath my feet. It’s then, as I watch in silence, that I begin to feel a terrible tremble, one similar to those that I’ve felt before, only much, much worse.

  I stand back, frightened, watching as a hulking form of muscle in dark-purple skin appears at the top of the dais. A monster with black horns spiraling out the corners of its head, it stands before us, seething, and I see a collection of black eyes, like that of a spider’s, looking out at me.

  “My God…” I whisper in fear.

  “The demon,” Atia says.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Looking at the monster, I now understand what Petronelous meant when she explained that not anyone could face a demon and withstand it.

  It takes everything I am not to be overcome by the madness of it. I feel my mind struggling to comprehend its existence, my place in the world, even more so than when I first came to this damned stinking planet.

  “Xander,” the demon welcomes me in a voice that rumbles against the walls of the cavern. I can actually feel the strength of it in my chest, flowing through my body like a sick chill. But, as monstrous as it appears, there’s a sophistication to its voice, a cultured shine that screams of keen intellect. “You’ve finally come.”

  “How do you know my name?” I ask.

  The demon laughs, its raucous voice echoing through the empty cavern. The horror of its appearance wards us back and we immediately begin to spread out.

  Petronelous lowers her blades as she glares up at the monster, silent in her dismay, while Zorel, her amusement now a memory, recedes into the shadows, the spark of electricity dying out on her fingertips. Atia holds her position at my side. But she’s quiet, captivated by the evil towering before her, as am I.

  “Boy.” The word is like a curse. “Do you really think your appearance on this planet—one of billions in a never-ending universe—is on accident? There are no accidents. There is only fate.”

  “The prophecy…” The word trembles from Zorel’s lips.

  “Yes,” the demon replies. “An ancient story of ruin, that tells of the world’s ending. And it all starts here, tonight, with us.”

  “Us?” I ask.

  I look down at Rachel, who’s stirring from her sleep. Her eyes flutter open, and a look of hope crosses her face as she sees me standing above her. “Xander?”

  “She’s awake,” Tulgas remarks excitedly. He stares up at his master.

  The demon’s eyes, all eight of them, fold into slits. “Good,” it says. “Begin the ritual.”

  “As you wish,” the beshai replies.

  He rushes down the steps of the dais toward the concrete slab, where Rachel is splayed across, and raises a sharp dagger above his head. “With all that I am,” he screams, his eyes wide with excitement. “I release thee from this world of torture.”

  “No!” I unsheathe the blade from my waste and sink it into his fat stomach. He gasps, stunned by the suddenness of it. The old man’s eyes turn to me in shock, a stain of
blood spreading out in a wide circle around the wound.

  “You don’t know what you’ve done,” he manages in a lifeless whisper.

  “Yes, I do,” I reply, holding his gaze. “I know damn well.”

  Tulgas dies slowly on my blade, his hands reaching for my shoulders as his legs begin to give out from under him. Dropping to his knees, he stares up at me one last time, a request for mercy in his large brown eyes. I give none. He was a lying son of a bitch, a man who thought that killing a woman was the only way to make humanity pay for its sins. He was wrong.

  “Go to hell,” I say, watching as the light of his eyes is eventually extinguished.

  From the raised dais, the demon begins to laugh, its insect-like mandibles clicking disgustingly. The death of the holy man amuses it, and it watches in pure delight as Tulgas’s body finally topples to the ground, lifeless.

  “Humans,” the demon says. “Of all the species in the universe, yours is my favorite. So easily tricked. The fool actually thought I was going to help him. But he was just the first step of the ritual.”

  “What ritual?” I ask.

  “The blood of two loves,” it answers, “wedded by the sacrifice of a faithful.”

  Two loves wedded by a faithful? Is the demon talking about me, Rachel and Tulgas?

  The demon descends the steps of the dais, its giant black hooves clacking against the solid steps of the stone, as a long tail tipped with what looks like a razor curls behind it.

  When it reaches us, the demon pulls out a gold cup from its leather belt and bends over to fill it with the beshai’s blood. The cup is quickly filled, and the demon holds it up into the air as an offering. “Oh foul universe, take this wretched blood so that you may once again allow our brethren to spill forth through the gates of this galaxy, so that they may once again, with the seed of this blood, lay the foundation for the return of our master, Zendal.”

  The air around us begins to blur, like the blinding heat that rises off the burning asphalt during summer, and I start to hear the sky begin thundering above us through the dense layers of the cavern. The world is being changed.

 

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