Ashok pushed himself to his limits, and then beyond. His real heart was pounding. His breath was ragged fire. The Heart of the Mountain made up the difference muscle could not, and swamp passed by in a flash. If there were demons hidden here, none of them tried to stop him, perhaps because he’d gone by too quickly for them to realize he was even there.
The leaves on the trees ahead of him were shaking. Earthquake? He skidded to a halt in a clearing, breathing hard, but trying to listen. The black earth vibrated beneath his boots. There was an odd buzzing in his ears, like insects, but this sound was made by no living thing, but rather from some strange energy building in the air.
In the distance, a woman screamed.
Thera! Ashok adjusted course toward the sound and took off again.
Breaking through reeds and splashing through puddles, Ashok ran along the edge of a lake. There appeared to be only one semisolid path across, and he’d already proven that he was a terrible swimmer. He had to cross an open expanse, but did not hesitate. The water was knee deep, and the mud beneath sucked at his boots.
Then from the reeds ahead appeared a man. Or at least he thought it was a man, until he saw that it had blue skin.
Ashok had encountered such creations before. The first time was as an acolyte, when he and Devedas had battled them at the top of the world to prove themselves worthy. They had been a mystery then, but Lord Protector Ratul had educated them about the Dasa after they’d attained senior rank. Ashok did not understand what a guardian servant was doing all the way out here, and did not have time to ponder on it. He kept running.
The Dasa moved to block his path.
Then Ashok realized a second one had risen from the water to his side, and a third from behind. They did not breathe. They could lie beneath water indefinitely. The ones that belonged to the Order slept beneath the snow until someone intruded onto the Heart’s peak, and then they reacted with overwhelming violence.
He stopped in the center of a triangle created by three very dangerous foes.
The Dasa were covered in muck, but from the shape and the gleam of metal, they were dressed in armor. Two were armed with axes, and one held a spear in its seemingly delicate blue hands.
They did not speak as they approached. The triangle shrank.
“Let me pass.”
The spear Dasa struck first. It was nearly as fast as he was, which meant it had been set to its most dangerous setting. The setting one lower than that had easily defeated him and Devedas all those years ago.
But Ashok was no longer a child. Coat whipping, he spun around the spear thrust, and slammed that Dasa in the side of the head with his elbow. He dodged beneath a falling ax, and kicked that one in the chest. It crashed back into the water.
As the last one struck, Ashok shouted a command. “Arret!”
It was an old word, from before the Age of Kings, when there had still been different languages in the world. Ashok didn’t know what the word meant, only that Ratul had taught it to the Protectors who might have to deal with the guardians of the Heart. It would stop those Dasa in their vengeful tracks.
The axe froze, inches from his face.
Ashok was pleased to see that these Dasa spoke the same language as the ones that belonged to the Order. Good. Ashok didn’t have time to fight them. The magic just ahead had grown so incredibly strong that even he could sense it.
In fact, he could see it. A hazy light was glowing through the trees, and it was becoming more visible because the sky was rapidly darkening. Ashok looked up and was surprised to see that the clouds above were circling, like they were being sucked toward the ground. Lightning cracked across the sky.
Something caught his eye, and he called upon the Heart to sharpen his vision. In the distance was the sea. The flash had reflected off several black shapes rising from the surf that had turned a violent foaming red.
“Salt water,” he muttered.
The demons were still far away. The only reason he’d noticed them with his unaided sight was because one of the demons was the size of an elephant. It was by far the biggest demon he’d ever seen. It was a good thing he could not feel fear, because any normal man would’ve been left trembling and helpless before this army of hell.
All the demons were slowly converging on that light.
The three Dasa were still eerily still, each stuck somewhere in the process of trying to kill him. The wizards had probably placed them here along this narrow path of land to keep him from reaching Thera. They had no way of guessing that the Protector Order knew how to control Dasa too, or at least some of them did. Those who reached Lord Protector rank were taught all the commands. As a senior, Ashok only knew three. Stop, sleep, and…
Attack.
Chapter 36
“Sikasso! Sikasso!”
The leader of the House of Assassins looked up from his vital experiments. Even though his project was going through her trial, and Ashok Vadal was only a few miles away, his current efforts could not wait. He had undertaken a great personal risk, and risks had to be managed or else. But the wizard sounded panicked, so Sikasso removed the needles from his new arm, and hid the bags of ground ingredients and beakers of medicine beneath a cloth, before rising.
He pulled his glove on to hide his crime, and then opened the vault door. “What is it?”
It was Waman, a tiny, fragile man, who despite his size—or perhaps because of it—made an excellent spy. He was among those Sikasso had ordered to fly high above the swamp, observing Ashok’s approach, as well as Thera’s progress…And since Waman was loyal, to also make sure that the ambitious Kabir did nothing to cross him.
“We need you!” Waman was nearly out of breath. Magic still lingered upon him. He had just finished changing back into his normal form, and had run the rest of the way.
“Ashok shouldn’t be here for hours.”
“He’s not coming here. You guessed right. Somehow he sensed Thera and went after her alone. He left his men behind.”
“That is excellent news.” Sikasso had been prepared for that, so he’d left more than enough Dasa in place to ambush and kill Ashok. There were only so many ways to the graveyard, and he’d doubted Ashok would lower himself to swimming. His greatest disappointment was that he wouldn’t be there to see the damnable Protector expire, but his current magical and medical efforts could not be postponed. “Is Ashok dead then?”
“No! Ashok commanded the Dasa! Just as you do! And they obeyed him!”
“What?” The secrets to controlling the ancient servants were closely held, and only handed down to a few select members of the Lost House. “Impossible.”
“There’s more. Something strange is happening at the trial. It’s as you hoped, her magic has appeared.”
Sikasso was still reeling at the idea a Protector could command his most loyal servants. His defenses were ruined. Thera was inconsequential compared to that. “Good, before they left I ordered Kabir to record the images so even if she gets eaten by a demon, at least in the process we could still learn what possessed her.” He was more preoccupied thinking about how to change the command words for the remaining Dasa than gaining access to Thera’s powers.
“But the demons aren’t killing her. That old thing in the dead center of the graveyard, we thought it was just a statue they worshipped, but it’s not! It’s some sort of ancient device, and it’s awakened. They’re fighting!”
“What? Who?”
“Thera and the idol! It’s like a magical contest of wills. Only from the wild power emanating from it, I don’t think it’s Thera at all. She’s just a vessel to hold it, no different than a chunk of black steel.” Waman was actually terrified. “It’s the gods! One of them appeared in the light, wrestling the darkness! I saw him!”
Sikasso’s new hand shot out and he grabbed Waman by his scrawny neck. He squeezed and Waman’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “Calm down and speak clearly.” A sudden rage came over him, and it took all of Sikasso’s will not to rip Wa
man’s throat out. Then he released the pressure. “Explain.”
Waman gasped. “I can’t! It’s the old gods returned! It really is.”
This was not the time for fairy tales.
“Your spy tells the truth.” There were several heavy footsteps, and then Kabir appeared in the doorway, muddy and scratched. He was dripping swamp water all over the nice rug. “It’s no illusion. There’s been a manifestation of power the likes of which none of us have ever seen, and it’s clashing with an unknown form of ancient demon magic.”
“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be observing her!” Sikasso snapped.
“I was, but I flew back as fast as I could when I saw five demons coming out of the sea!”
He had to be mistaken. That number wasn’t just impossible. It was outlandish. Except Kabir was grim, and though he was a treacherous one, he had nothing to gain from lying about this. A couple demons could raze a town. Five demons was an unstoppable nightmare. If they turned their attention against this place, their house would be lost again. The wizards would be forced to flee. Everything they’d built would be destroyed.
“Sikasso,” Kabir said gently. “I hate to interrupt your contemplations, but…”
He realized that his new hand had involuntarily tightened on its own, and he was choking Waman to death. He forced the fingers to unclench, and Waman dropped to the floor, coughing.
Sikasso took a furtive glance at his experiments beneath the cloth. He couldn’t afford to abandon them for long, and if he had to retreat, he wouldn’t be able to recreate them elsewhere in time before the side effects began.
“Omkar and Yuval’s forces are already long gone.” Sending away most of his assassins had been a terrible miscalculation. He’d done it to appear confident, but he’d had no way of knowing the Protector could command their deadly guardian servants. “We can’t communicate with them until they land, and by the time they turn around it will be too late. Summon every other wizard still in the region back to the house. While you do that I shall place new patterns upon our Dasa so the rest can’t be compromised. If the demons turn their rage against us, we will hold here. These walls will not fall a second time.”
“That’s madness. I didn’t exaggerate the number of demons I saw. No fortifications in the world can slow a determined demon for long. We should send the slaves and students inland while we gather our most precious treasures and prepare to evacuate.”
Sikasso’s voice was a deadly whisper. “Do you challenge my rule, Kabir?”
He could tell the younger assassin was thinking about reaching for one of the strips of demon hide hanging from his belt. If he made a move, Sikasso would rip Kabir’s heart from his chest and eat it in front of him while it was still beating. The look Sikasso gave him must have conveyed that fact, because Kabir’s survival instincts overcame his pride.
“I do not challenge…But I fear for the future of our house.”
“Of course you do,” Sikasso snapped. “You’ve lived your entire life in fear. You hide it well, Kabir, but your doubts plague you and render you weak.”
“Regardless, have your spy give those orders. I’m needed elsewhere. I’ve given my warning. Do with it as you wish. Now I must return to the graveyard.”
“Do not think you can shirk your oath, Kabir.”
“On the contrary, Master Sikasso, it was love of my house that brought me here briefly. Until Thera returns or dies, I am still obligated to be her guide.”
Sikasso gave him a patronizing smile. “Tradition demands no less.”
“Tradition is everything.” Kabir backed out of the vault. He did not turn his back to walk away until he was in the hall, well out of striking distance. That was an insult, but Sikasso let it pass.
He kicked Waman in the leg. “Get up, you whimpering slug. We have an invasion to repel.”
Chapter 37
Jagdish held up one hand signaling for the Sons to halt. They immediately complied, weapons raised, nervously watching their surroundings.
“Something’s not right,” he whispered.
“The part where there’s a bleeding magical funnel cloud just over thataways? Or where our illustrious leader ran off leaving us on our own?” Gutch whispered back.
Ashok knew what he was doing, and besides, Jagdish had this under control. “Come now, Gutch, if you’d had your way it would just be me and you here.”
“I didn’t realize what a stupid idea that was at the time.”
Jagdish waited for the big man to quit his bellyaching as he surveyed the area. They’d found a patch of relatively solid ground and had been making good time when the hairs on his arms had stood up. The whole place was eerie enough to set his nerves on edge, but something about this particular spot was nagging at him.
It felt like they were being watched.
Turning around, Jagdish signaled Shekar and Eklavya to get ready, who in turn warned their men.
He’d spent a year sparring against Ashok in prison. In between him getting soundly beaten, Jagdish had asked a lot of questions about combat, because Ashok had lived through more of it than anyone else alive. Not to mention that his sword had provided him with the martial memories of generations of his ancestors. He was a walking encyclopedia of battle. So of course Jagdish had asked how best to fight demons. What warrior wouldn’t? They were the most dangerous thing in the world after all.
Ashok’s first answer had been to have an ancestor blade, since it was the only thing that could easily slice through their incredibly resilient hide. That was handy advice—for about a dozen men in the whole world—but as for the rest of them, there was no good answer, because there was no sure way to beat a demon. Regular steel could occasionally cut them, but that required a near perfect strike, which was difficult considering how ferociously demons fought. Since their white flesh was rubbery and the bones beneath hard as rocks, they were resistant to bludgeoning as well. The concentrated force of a narrow spike on a mace or war hammer that could pierce a steel breastplate usually just bounced off a demon. Fire, even magical fire, did not burn them. You couldn’t run one down with cavalry, because horses—even war elephants—refused to go near a demon.
Whenever regular warriors did manage to kill one, it was usually at great cost, with many men giving their lives until a few lucky shots landed. These were the sorts of victories that resulted in warriors becoming legends, with people singing songs about them, and holding feasts in their honor for generations after, because Grandfather so and so had once cut down a demon to save their village and only twenty of his friends had died in the process!
Of course songs and feasts were no comfort to the warriors who died before the killing blow landed.
Shekar Somsak made an abrupt gesture to get Jagdish’s attention, and then he pointed across the swamp. It took Jagdish a moment to pick out what he’d seen. Then his blood ran cold. You’d think that something so pitch black would stand out against the dreary browns and sick grays of Bahdjangal, but the demon was surprisingly well camouflaged in the shadows.
It was a hundred yards away, wading through a stream they had just crossed. The water had come up nearly to Jagdish’s waist. It barely covered the demon’s knees.
He’d never seen a real live demon before. The fearful tales didn’t do them justice, because they were far more bone chilling in the flesh. It was said that no two demons were alike. This one was sort of shaped like a man, upright and walking on two legs, except the thing was easily a foot taller than Gutch, even walking hunched over in a manner that suggested it had a badly twisted spine. Even with that deformity, there was nothing that suggested it was crippled.
As the demon glided through the water with an eerie smoothness, Jagdish forced himself to look away from the terror to check on his men. Beneath the mud streaked on their faces, every single one of them had gone pale. But nobody screamed. Nobody broke and ran.
It was heading in the same direction that Ashok had gone, seemingly drawn toward where the cl
ouds were swirling. It had surely seen them, but the deadly thing looked willing to pass them by for now. Jagdish signaled for the men to remain still, not that they needed the encouragement.
Gutch was kneeling next to him. The big man was so scared he was shaking. He could hear the jingle of chain armor. And then Jagdish realized that it wasn’t just Gutch. He was trembling too. Jagdish had seen many battles, and he’d always thought of himself as a brave man, but being in the presence of a demon was so much worse. He was so scared it was making his stomach hurt.
They might have been fine, it was possible fate—that fickle bitch—could have spared them, if one of them hadn’t made a mistake. A weapon slipped from someone’s wet, cold fingers. The wooden spear shaft made a clunk as it struck bark, and then a splash as it landed in a puddle. The demon froze. Its head was revealed to be a featureless lump, set too low between its shoulders, as it slowly rotated in their direction.
The warrior bringing up the rear of their column was only forty yards from the demon. It focused on Murugan Thao, who’d joined them on the road, proud and bold, but who was now reduced to crouching behind a tree praying to his illegal gods.
The demon’s path changed, and now it was heading directly toward them.
Don’t move. Don’t move, Jagdish thought at Murugan as hard as he could, but he didn’t dare make a sound.
No warrior could take that unflinching, hungry gaze for long. Murugan bolted.
The demon might have been more interested in the magical forces gathering in the distance, but when prey ran, predators chased. With an explosive burst of speed, it leapt from the stream and went after Murugan.
“Attack!” Jagdish rose and charged. “Attack!”
The Somsak were quick, and their large crossbows made a distinct sound when they released. Some bolts missed the speeding demon, but a few struck it, only to bounce right off. There were archers among the Kharsawan and they let fly with their long bows, not faring much better.
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