by Kala Merseal
Cirith lurched forward, his movements a command to the others to act. His fingers had elongated to claws, their creamy, razor points shredding into the demon’s abdomen. The Guardian had moved so quickly, the demon had not known he struck until his claws went clean through.
Black blood gushed profusely, pooling across the forest floor and across Cirith’s armor. The female demon screeched as her wings flung out. She turned in the air, trying to take flight and flee.
Raethin grabbed her taloned foot, anchoring her down. Her wings beat rapidly, sending leaves and dirt through the air. He pulled and her body vaulted into the ground. One wing clipped the scout, slamming him into a tree. The other twisted painfully underneath her, audible snapping against the force of her body hitting the forest floor.
Cirith had plunged his other claw through the other demon’s chest, gripping the grotesque, black heart within, and ripped it out, executing the demon in quick succession. For extra measures, he gripped the demon’s head and pulled, easily tearing the neck tendons from the creature’s body.
Solas and the druid scout shifted around the female demon, their feet pinning her wings to the floor. Raethin held her body down with a foot to her back, gesturing for Cirith to quickly grab her head.
His blackened hands gripped her head and gold light slammed into her from their contact. Her body convulsed; muffled screams shoved against Cirith’s hand. Slowly, she stilled, the agony of the light lulling her into a pain-induced sleep.
Quickly, Solas and the druid bundled the demoness within golden rope and carried her together toward the bridge’s entrance.
Cirith and Raethin hurried behind them, guarding for any surprise attacks from above.
The druids crossed the barrier silently. Once across, the scouts waiting for them helped them with their load, heading down curve of the hill that led into the valleys below the fortress.
The two Great Spirits halted right before the barrier, their feet grazing its liquid surface. Cirith gripped Raethin’s shoulder, nodding toward the trees behind them.
Raethin turned, his enhanced vision skirting across the shadowy branches above them. Several pairs of vibrant red eyes watched them from above, waiting for their next move.
Quickly, Cirith grabbed Raethin and shoved him past the ward. The Guardian followed quickly after, pulling Raethin along as he fluidly moved after the druids and their captured demon.
“They can’t see beyond the ward, but they could see us disappear into it,” Cirith said.
“They let us take the demon,” Raethin hissed, shrugging off Cirith’s hold. They hurried after the druids and soon they all entered the cavern.
Misandreas sat in a wooden chair, her head lulling in her hand. When their footsteps resounded off the cavern walls, she jerked out of sleep, and she quickly moved onto her feet.
They dumped the demon on a stone slab. Quickly, Cirith procured a golden barrier surrounding the slab, its light casting shadows across the entire cavern.
They all stepped back and relaxed. Misandreas roamed around the barrier, eying the unconscious demon.
“There are females?” She asked. The druid scouts had left the cavern, wanting to put distance between them and the threat. Solas lingered at the cavern’s entrance, tense, and eying the bridge’s entrance above.
Cirith and Raethin leaned against the cavern wall. The black blood covering Cirith dried, its sticky features clutching to anything he brushed against.
“There are, apparently,” Raethin muttered, eying the demoness as well. “This is the first one I’ve seen.”
Granted, he had not seen many. From what he knew, mostly males became demons when tainted because their bodies could handle the transition. But some women were biologically strong enough to handle it and this demoness proved that.
“What shall we do now?”
“Wait.” Cirith pushed away from the stone wall. “We will guard the gates and wait until morning when they are all weakest. Then we will interrogate her.”
“I will issue a command for everyone to stand guard until then,” Solas said and then quickly ducked out, taking the first chance he could leave the demon’s presence.
Cirith followed a moment, saying he had to get the disgusting taint off him.
Raethin chose to stay and watch the demon, scrutinizing every twitch and breath as she laid unconscious on the stone slab within the barrier. Misandreas stayed as well, purely out of fascination for the creature.
“This is what you would’ve looked like,” she said after several moments. Her white gaze turned curiously onto him. “They are beautiful creatures, speaking without bias. If they were not under the thrall of the Void and given the instincts to kill, I imagine they would’ve been spectacular.”
Raethin grimaced. The demoness was not ugly. Her face was smooth and handsome, akin to the statues of goddesses within temples branching through Altana. Dark lashes overshadow rounded upper cheeks. Black, full lips parted over bone-white fangs. Raven hair fell over her thin shoulders. The material over her armor clung like a second skin, revealing curves throughout her body that almost rivaled Ara’s.
Raethin wondered if the woman she was before was beautiful or if it was part of the curse’s design; to make the predators beautiful, like a poisonous flower luring its prey.
When Ara flashed in his mind, her skin ashen, her lips black, her eyes crimson and leering at him as a predator homing in on prey, he squeezed his eyes shut and prayed the image away.
Raethin would die before he allowed her to succumb to the demons.
Chapter Twenty
Ara woke up that morning sensing the change inside thee ward. She shot up in bed, dressed quickly, and ran downstairs, where she found the others peacefully having breakfast. The others greeted her as she rushed into the room.
“Where is he?” She demanded breathlessly as she hovered within the doorway.
“Rae?” Arlow shrugged. “Haven’t seen him yet today. Must be sleeping in.”
Bieva came through the kitchen hall then clutching filled plates, halting when Ara vaulted toward her.
“Are they back?”
The druidess grimaced. “I don’t know what you’re—”
“I know they went hunting for a demon,” Ara muttered under her breath, casting a glance over to the others. “Raethin went with them. Are they back?”
Sighing, Bieva nodded.
“Can you lead me to where they are?”
“I really shouldn’t—”
“Please.” Ara clutched the druidess’s arm. Bieva looked down at the contact in alarm and disgust.
When Ara would not let go, Bieva hissed through her teeth, “Yes.”
The druidess shrugged her off and dumped the plates of food on the table. Without another word, Bieva stormed out of the room with Ara tailing behind.
Ara followed her across the fortress grounds and passed the main gates. Druids from the towers watched them, confused, as the druidess led the princess to the barrier’s edge, then turned down a path that circled toward the valleys below. After a few minutes of trudging down the dirt trail, clutching to stumps, trunks, and rocks to keep her balance and not roll off the hill, Bieva diverged to a small cliff that oversaw one of the lakes.
The entrance to the cavern came into view as they climbed onto the cliff and light illuminated inside. People surrounded a glowing ward, its strings of magick shimmering against stone walls. Bieva left the princess at the cave’s entrance, grumbling under her breath.
Slowly, Ara inched inside, recognizing Raethin, leaned up against curved stone. At her footsteps, he turned toward her, his eyes blazing with anger.
“What in the hells are you doing here?” He barreled toward her, diverting her gaze from the glowing prison, and ushering her back toward the sunlight.
Ara dug her feet in the dirt, shoving against Raethin. “I had to make sure you were okay—and I wanted to see—”
“You will see nothing.” His voice rumbled and he caged her away from the cave. Her feet s
truck grass as he shoved her out from the stone enclosure.
“I deserve to see what you’ve brought here!”
“No, you don’t,” Raethin snapped as he pulled away. He stepped back and planted his feet in her way. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s too dangerous—”
“If it’s too dangerous, why did you bring it here in the first place?” She crossed her arms. “I’m not some child.”
His gold eyes flashed, gleaming with heated anger. “If it happens to break the prison, we created around it, then you are the first thing it will go after. I can’t put you in harm’s way.”
“I deserve to learn anything that you’d torture out of it,” Ara retorted. “I need to know.”
“Let her in, Reathin.” Cirith’s voice called out from the cave, an exasperated sigh following his words. “You’re wasting time arguing with her.”
Raethin stiffened, angered. Ara eyed him pointedly, waiting for him to move out of the way. Slowly, he turned on his heels and went back inside, gritting his teeth as she followed closely after.
Chairs decorated the area, half filled with bodies as they waited for the demon to wake. Ara settled in one beside Misandreas, wilting when the elder frowned in disapproval.
Vilithian sat across from them, eying the body within the golden prison. Solas stood beside Cirith, who leaned against the stone wall.
Raethin stood over Ara and crossed his arms.
“So, what happened?” Ara asked, her voice hushed.
“They nabbed the demon before dawn,” Misandreas said when the others refused to answer. “Brought her here and now we’re waiting for her to wake.”
“Her?” Ara leaned forward in her chair, scooting closer. Raethin’s hand lurched out and pulled her back.
Through the golden strings of energy, Ara made out the feminine features of the demon. The curve of breasts and hips within skin-tight armor. The soft features of her face. She was beautiful, really.
Frowning, she looked up at Raethin. “I didn’t know there were females.”
Raethin sighed.
Silence spread out through the cavern again. Ara pouted in silence in her chair after Raethin relinquished his hold, though he still hung around her protectively.
Soon the demoness stirred. A groan choked out of her black lips as she shifted. One wing bent painfully, bone poking out from ashen skin.
One crimson eye shot open and surveyed the room. Slowly, her black lips pulled into a sanguine smile.
The demoness sat up, leaning on the stone slab, and eyed Cirith.
“I knew it wasn’t dream.” Her voice was just as sweet as her smile, dripping with sarcasm. “And here I thought I was just having a wet nightmare.”
Everyone held their breath as Cirith shoved off from the wall and approached the prison. The demoness watched him with hooded eyes as he came near, grinning when he leaned toward the barrier.
“You know why you are here,” Cirith muttered, his brow furrowed as the demoness nodded.
“You wish to garnish information from me.” The demoness released an elated sigh, stretching her body against the stone. “I hope torture is on the menu as well.”
She grinned, her fangs flashing in the golden light, as her gaze roamed over to Raethin.
“If it must be done,” the demoness breathed. “Then I would like the denier to do it.”
Raethin stiffened.
“Aw, yes.” She hissed as her gaze fell on Ara. “The Heir is here as well. This could not get any better. Tell me, Ara Zypherus, do you miss him?”
“Don’t respond, Ara,” Cirith muttered. His words brought the demoness’s focus back to him. Her grin grew when Cirith stepped through the barrier.
The demoness shifted and arched her back.
Cirith’s hand slammed into her throat and lurched her upward. A surprise squeal broke from her black lips before she began gasping for air, her claws gnawing notches into his arm. Her wings shifted, slamming against the prison barrier, and hissing as skin singed.
“You will answer every question we have,” Cirith said, his golden eyes sharpening as a grin still made its way across her pained expression.
“And then you’ll kill me?” her words stammered out in a hiss. “Splendid.”
Ignoring her taunt, Cirith’s fingers tightened around her throat. His claws dug into her ashen skin and strands of black blood slid across the flesh.
“How many of you are out there, roaming the Forest?”
Her shoulders shrugged, despite her broken wing weighing her down. “Hundreds.”
“When will they strike?”
“Whenever.” The demoness gasped, black ink now dribbling down her chin. Her crimson eyes flashed as they cut across to Ara and Raethin. “He was waiting for your first move.”
“The Void King?”
“Aeskrius,” she corrected, stare still pinned on the princess. “You’ve prepared them nicely with the time you had, Cirith. He is impressed. Though it does not matter now, does it?”
Cirith mulled over her words and met Raethin’s eyes.
“Gorgeous as ever, Ara,” the demoness sighed, her gaze longing as she watched Ara squirming in her seat. “His patience is running thin. Honestly, if you had not picked me up today, I’m not sure what he would have done. But now that you have—well, we will see by dusk, won’t we?”
“What does he plan on doing now?”
“I’m not sure.” The demoness groaned, squeezing her eyes shut. “He’s silent now. I miss his whispers…maybe he knew that I was a lost cause. I knew I was the moment that he caught me. His loving embraces were always a bit too thoughtless, as if he imagined someone else in his arms and not me. I was so jealous, knowing he’d rather have pink flesh in his arms than me.”
Her eyes flashed as she caught Cirith’s surprised grimace.
“Then again,” she breathed, grinning when his grip tightened around her neck, and groused, “We all enjoy pink flesh.”
They all fell silent as the demoness chuckled.
Ara looked up, dread and panic in her eyes, and met Raethin’s glance.
“He is in her mind,” Ara muttered, then shuttered when the demoness howled in laughter.
“Yes,” the creature groused. Her chuckle cut off when Cirith’s grip squeezed.
Through her teeth, the demoness hissed, “He is in it now. I feel him now. Thank the Void, I thought he had left—”
She clutched her chest, a moan loosening from her.
Cirith dropped her in disgust.
“What does he want?” Cirith asked, crossing his arms as she lounged on the dirt floor.
The demoness stilled, her crimson eyes twinkling as she looked up at the Guardian.
“He wants to meet you.” Her gaze cut across the Raethin, “And the denier. At dusk. Alone.”
“Why?”
“The Void King’s Champion can be merciful.” Her words hissed. “He gave mercy to the denier when he could’ve killed him. And look what you’ve done with that gift—”
Cirith’s boot slammed in her chest, pinning her to the ground. Her chuckle still broke out as she bit her lip.
“A truce,” the demoness gritted. “He calls for a truce. An exchange. Give Ara Zypherus to him and he will leave your people be. The denier can be a bonus to that exchange as well.”
“There is absolutely no way—”
“Fine,” Cirith said, cutting off Raethin’s outburst.
“Then tell him—”
“Tell him yourself,” the demoness breathed. “He is inside me, right here.” Her claw ticked her temple as she stuck out her tongue.
She hissed when Cirith grabbed her skull and twisted her head to face him.
“Raethin and I will meet with him,” Cirith said. “We will discuss with him the conditions.”
“Fine.” The demoness’s pointed tongue darted across her lips. “Then it’s settled then.”
Cirith’s grip loosened. The creature fell to the floor, a crunch resounding through the cave as
she landed on her wing. She still chuckled, her eyes hooded and half-crazed, as she glanced at Ara and Raethin.
“Well, what now?” the demoness breathed. “Will you kill me? Or do you have more questions? Or you could just let me look at her for a little while longer. He likes the view—”
Her words stuttered. A claw slammed through her chest, snatching her blackened heart, and ripping it from its home. Blood soaked the dirt underneath.
Cirith squeezed the organ until it burst in his hand, then dropped the remains over the body.
The tension in the room thickened as Cirith wiped his wet hand across his pants.
The Guardian grimaced. “I’ll have to wash again.”
♦♦♦
After Cirith killed the demoness, the druids had dragged her body outside. Against the rocks, her body burst into flames from the sunlight and within seconds devolved into ash. Everyone adjourned, the elders idling back to the main building. They all had left the pile of ash, disgusted and wary of the remains.
“Meet me in the chambers,” Cirith said to Raethin as he left the cave, rushing off to rid himself of the demon’s blood.
Raethin ushered Ara out of the cave as the others vacated, concerned by her dazed, absent look. As they climbed up the trail to the fortress’s main grounds, she began to shake. Tears welled in her eyes.
Ara began to collapse, her legs staggering as she lost her footing. Raethin held her against him. His fingers brushed her hair as he tucked her into his lap, sitting against the rocks beside the trail.
Moments passed. Slowly, her shaking ceased, though her breaths still labored. He glanced down and saw her eyes squeezed shut. Her fists gripped his shirt. Tears dried across her cheeks.
“Talk to me, princess,” he muttered.
His voice shook her out of her stupor. She jolted in his lap, heading nearly clipping his chin as she looked up at him.
The blue in her eyes was more vibrant, contrasting against the swollen red. Ara shuttered against him, drawing in a quivering breath as she collected her throats.
Wetting her lips, she muttered, “I thought that I had rid myself of him.”
Raethin stilled, a burning disgust swelling in his gut.