by C S Vass
A few minutes later they were sitting in a cluster of chairs in the courtyard. There were stone gargoyles, each in the shape of a horrific beast, circled around them. Each one had a hearth in its mouth that provided a highly comfortable setting.
“It’s so good to see you,” Paetrick said as he offered them both steaming cups of cider (without the alcohol). “But pray, why have you come?”
“Benjiko and I just have some questions,” Faela said gently, noting the look of fear that had crept into Paetrick’s face. “About the attack.”
“Oh, well, you see…it all ended okay,” Paetrick said quickly. “Besides, the monks asked me not to talk about it.”
“Paetrick, this is your Prince,” Faela said.
Paetrick’s face turned crimson. “Yes, I suppose he is.” He glanced about nervously. Lowering his voice so that they had to lean in to hear him, Paetrick continued. “Well, okay then. It all happened so fast though. There was a a crash. One man and one woman. They were draped in cloaks as black as death. They came into my room with weapons drawn. It was the dead of night. But I was lucky. I…”
“What?” Faela urged.
“Well, I was emptying my chamberpot,” Paetrick said somewhat meekly. “So I wasn’t in the room. I came back to find them there. I saw their weapons and ran. They ran after me.”
“What happened then?” Benjiko asked.
“Well, the Temple of Ice and Shadow is a fearful place at night. I was running in the darkness and could barely see my way. That’s when Monk Graeshu heard me yelling. He emerged from his chambers and it got cold. So cold I could barely move. Monk Graeshu did something with his hands. I felt…a presence. Something was there. It was very angry. I heard the attackers screaming. When it was over, their bodies had been torn to shreds. It looked like wild dogs had been at them. I asked Monk Graeshu if we should pray for them, but he said that we already had and the gods of ice and shadow had heard our prayers. Then he ordered me off to bed.”
Faela listened to Paetrick’s story as goose pimples appeared on her neck. She knew that the monks of ice and shadow had dark magic known only to their order. It was one of the reasons traveling with them to Iryllium had made her so uncomfortable.
“Is there anything else you can tell us?” Benjiko asked. His voice was princely and severe, and his silver eyes were unblinking as they watched Paetrick.
“N…no,” Paetrick stammered. The boy was a terrible liar.
“Listen, monk,” Benjiko said. “You are in no trouble with me. It’s clear that you were the target of this attack. Whoever these people were, they were bold enough to break into this ancient and powerful temple. That means one thing: your life is in grave danger. The ones who came after you were willing to risk a great deal to kill you. You must tell me, why would they do that?”
Paetrick was practically squirming in his skin. He shut his eyes for a few moments, clearly racking his brain to think of a way out of the situation.
“Paetrick,” Faela said. She placed her hand on his own and squeezed it. “These people that are after you…they could be the same ones who are coming after the other Dragons. The ones who are coming after me. If you don’t tell us what you know, it could be putting my life in danger too.”
Paetrick’s face went from red to white. “I had not considered that,” he mumbled.
“It’s alright. So much is changing so fast,” she cooed. “But you need to tell us what you know. For your safety, but also for mine.”
Solemnly, Paetrick nodded. “Alright. Please, just don’t be mad. The monks were so mad.”
“It’s a promise,” Faela said.
“It started right before they summoned me to Iryllium,” Paetrick said. “A moonless night. I was making my way home after the day’s labor when I encountered a group of easterners on the streets of Tallium. Well sure it was a bit odd, I thought, but I didn’t give it a second glance. But they were near Tallium’s temple. They were desecrating one of the monuments! The statue of a gargoyle, one of the servants of the gods.
“Well, I don’t think I’d ever been so angry. I’m not one to be inhospitable to folks from out of town, but this was too far. Still, I thought maybe they didn’t know it was a sacred object. I approached and told them to leave it be. They…they laughed at me. Told me they had come from the Dredjko Mountains and that I should shut up if I knew what was good for me.”
“The Dredjko Mountains?” Benjiko said in shock.
Paetrick nodded. His face paled even further “They…they said they came to the west because they heard we had a wolf king. They thought that was funny. Said we had it all wrong. There’s no true wolf king. Only a queen.”
Faela’s heart sunk. “The Cult of Ashanimara,” she whispered.
“Here in the West?” Benjiko asked. “I can’t believe it.”
“It was only then that I noticed something odd,” Paetrick said. “Their faces…they were distorted. They were human, but not just human. They were something else too. I don’t mean like you Faela. They weren’t something natural like a half-elf. Their noses protruded like snouts, and their eyes glowed like molten gold.”
“What did you do?” Benjiko asked.
“What do you think? I ran like hell, screaming all the while. I thought I was finished for certain. But then, at the last moment, I was rescued.”
“Rescued? By who?”
“I don’t know. They never gave their names. One was a giant of a man. Bald and in heavy steel plate armor. He didn’t have a sword, just a massive war hammer. At the hammer’s head there was a silver dragon with chains wrapped around its snout. He…he took care of the ones who attacked me.”
“You were saved by the Shigata?” Faela asked in disbelief. “They must have been hired by someone to deal with the easterners.”
Paetrick nodded. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life.”
“Tell me,” Benjiko said. “What of these Shigata? Did they do anything? Say anything?”
Paetrick thought carefully for a moment. “They told me to forget what I saw. Then they left without so much as cleaning up the bodies.”
“You are certain that the men who rescued you were Shigata?” Benjiko asked. “There are many different groups in the world that use similar symbols. In the darkness it is easy to be mistaken. Are you positive?”
Paetrick’s lip trembled as he considered what to say next. “I…I am, Prince. You see, there is one other thing.”
“Tell me,” Benjiko urged. “Don’t be afraid.”
“Well, you see. Um…the Shigata left so quickly. And, the fight, it was so brutal. When it was all over, I saw something glimmer on the ground. It must have been knocked off during the fighting.”
Faela’s jaw dropped. Benjiko immediately cleared his throat as his eyes widened.
Sheepishly, Paetrick reached inside of his robes. He pulled out a talisman that could barely fit in the outstretched palm of his hand. It was a silver dragon with chains wrapped around its snout.
Chapter 19
“Robert, get back!” Godwin yelled.
“Godwin, what the hell is that thing?” Yaura asked.
“I don’t know.”
A massive creature had emerged from the woods. The demon was three times Godwin’s height. Its skin was slime-green and weeping purple pus oozed from dozens of spots across its naked chest.
“What are you doing?” Yaura asked him, horrified.
Godwin had just sheathed his blade.
“We won’t be able to outrun it,” Robert pleaded. “Draw your weapon, Godwin!”
“No!” Godwin hissed. “I need to use the sword on the rusalka. Otherwise the magic ointment I made will be wasted. We can’t assume that it seeped into the blade well enough to be used more than once.”
Robert’s eyes were wide with terror. The creature was swiftly approaching. Most disturbing of all perhaps was that it hardly made a sound. There was no battle cry, no shrieking demonic wail. Just the swift approach of death.
“Fine, then work quickly,” Yaura shouted. “I don’t think I can hold it off for long.”
Godwin’s mouth dropped. “No, wait!”
It was too late. Yaura’s sword was alive in her hands, and she charged the beast head on. Quick as lightning, a massive arm shot towards her. Godwin thought she was dead for sure, but Yaura surprised him. She leapt forward into the air, dodged the blow by a hair’s width, placed a foot on the creature’s arm, and slashed at the demon’s face.
The creature gave no sign of injury as Yaura shoulder-rolled down its back. It sent a massive tail swinging like a log directly towards her. There was no way she could dod—
“You’re not a damn peasant at the Colosseum!” Robert shouted at Godwin. “Go kill that thing before Yaura gets herself killed!”
Godwin didn’t need to be told twice. I must be losing my touch, he thought bitterly as he waded into the pond with the rusalka. The water only went up to his waist, but as soon as it touched him she sprang back to life.
Godwin had never seen a rusalka in person, and after this he didn’t want to repeat the experience. The demon’s skin was like that of an aged corpse. Purple, bloated knots of muscle and congealed blood twisted sickeningly throughout her body. Her bare, rotting breasts were exposed underneath a tangle of braided muddy hair that splashed down to her shoulders.
The rusalka screamed. The noise was a high-pitched, shrieking sound that made Godwin think of some terrifying carnivorous bird.
“All right, let’s finish this,” Godwin said. He waded forward, encumbered by the water. He knew the demon would be able to outfight him in the pond, but his arms were still above the water and he hoped to lure it into a false sense of security. With any luck it would have never learned to fear a sword as the weapons were generally pointless against a rusalka.
The water demon leapt at Godwin, half swimming half skipping over the surface of the lake. Half a breath before she was near enough to touch him, Godwin’s sword sprang from its sheath. He prepared to cut her when something massive crashed into him.
Flailing through the water like a rag-doll, Godwin half-heard Robert’s scream through ears that had quickly filled with pond scum. Cursing, he looked up from the marshy ground and saw the larger demon coming at him.
He tried to roll over but a sharp pain in his leg made him stumble. The massive green demon’s giant fist was raised to splatter him like a bug.
Godwin prepared to die.
Screaming, Yaura flung through the trees swinging on a thick vine. Using her momentum from leaping from the trees, she swept underneath the arm of the beast and kicked her legs upwards like a pole-vaulter. The vine grew taught as Yaura soared skyward and knocked the demon’s arm upwards and away from Godwin.
Hardly daring to believe he escaped his brush with death, Godwin stumbled up. His leg didn’t appear to be broken, but it hurt like hell. He spun towards the water looking for any sign of the rusalka, but saw nothing.
Meanwhile, Yaura’s landing was not nearly as graceful as her entry. The demon kept its feet, thrust its massive arm downward on the vine, and flung Yaura down with it. She held onto the vine too long, and slammed hard into the ground.
“Yaura!” Godwin shouted as he raced towards her.
The demon also moved towards Yaura, but Godwin was quicker. He scooped her up before a massive green foot could crush her. Having pushed her out of danger he spun around, grabbed Yaura’s sword, and hastily drew a circle with the tip of her blade in the snow around them.
The demon approached, preparing to crush the two of them like ants.
“Godwin, run,” Yaura mumbled as her eyes rolled in her head.
Acting on instinct, Godwin enacted his emergency plan. He reached inside his jerkin and grabbed a small vial of something that both looked and tasted like sea water.
As soon as he was certain he wasn’t going to gag, Godwin opened his mouth and shouted, “You cannot see us inside this circle!”
The voice that echoed through the woods was not Godwin’s voice, but the voice of a woman. A beautiful, musical voice. A voice laden with seductive power.
The demon halted. Godwin racked his brain. The siren’s tears would buy him some time, but not nearly enough. He would have to think of something else.
“What are you doing?” Robert shouted from the other side of the pond.
He was right to be worried, Godwin realized with horror. The demon couldn’t see him and Yaura, but it could still see Robert! Already it had changed course and was charging towards Robert while he stood there pale-faced and shaking.
“Damn it, hang on!” Godwin shouted, his voice still absurdly that of a siren. Leaving Yaura for the moment, Godwin raced towards Robert. He wasn’t going to make it. The creature was gaining ground and Robert was just standing there unable to move.
“Run you idiot!” Godwin yelled. “Run for your life before you get smashed to pieces!” With a wild surge of energy, Godwin sprinted forward. It was going to be close.
Sharp hellish pain raced through his body.
“Agh!” He fell to the ground and rolled through the dirt. The rusalka was on his back, its teeth sunk into the flesh at his shoulder. About half of them had hit his padded armor, which was probably why he wasn’t dead, but the other half had scraped his lower neck. He could feel warm blood trickle down his body as the rusalka, fueled by the scent of blood, desperately tried to sink its teeth even further into him.
Twisting horribly underneath the water demon, Godwin positioned himself so that he was below the rusalka staring upwards at rows of pointed teeth. It screeched again, filling his nose with the scent of death. He was losing his grip. It was more powerful than he was. Death screamed for him, open-mouthed and ravenous.
The sword nearly went through his head.
Yaura was above the rusalka, and had speared its body from behind, pinning it to the ground with her blade. If Godwin hadn’t spastically jerked to the left at the last second he would have been speared right there with it.
Not wasting time to be grateful, Godwin turned to help Robert. The monster was upon him. Why hadn’t the moron run?
“Ellwehn skrhal duechlass splinyer!”
A bolt of lightning cracked through the trees and blasted the creature’s shoulder, sending it stumbling backwards. Dumbfounded, Godwin looked around for the newcomer who had shouted. Stupefied, he realized that it had been Robert.
“Ellwehn skrhal, Ellwehn skrhal,” Robert repeated over and over again. Each time he did another blast of lightning from the heavens raced down to earth and pummeled the creature.
“Oh my gods,” Yaura breathed. “Did you know he could do that?”
Godwin turned and was relieved to see that other than some cosmetic wounds, she appeared to be fine. “No idea,” he said, shocked.
Before they even had time to process what had happened, it was over. Robert had blasted the demon over and over again with his strange lightning power until it was a smoking ruin. Then he fell to his knees, breathing hard.
“You bastard,” Godwin growled at him. “Were you going to just let us get killed when you could have smote the demon to ashes from the very beginning?”
Something about Robert’s expression stopped Godwin from commenting further. He looked deeply disturbed. Traumatized. Godwin bent down next to him. “Are you okay?”
Robert’s breathing was greatly strained. “I…I don’t…what happened?”
Godwin and Yaura exchanged a nervous glance with each other. “It’ll be alright,” Yaura said. “Everything’s fine now. We’re getting out of here.”
“Just one quick thing,” Godwin said. He turned, and saw that Yaura had removed her sword from the rusalka. The demon was sprawled on the ground, arms outstretched and completely still.
“Let’s hope that this part goes a little smoother than the start of the fight,” Godwin said. He unsheathed his sword, and just as he was about to swing it the rusalka lifted its head baring dozens of needle-like teeth and shri
eked.
He came down on the crown of the demon like he was splitting a log.
Darkness had fallen.
The temperature had dropped significantly, and a chilly wind breezed through the trees. Godwin was trying to make sense of everything that had happened, but he wanted to ensure that the magic oil he had used really did kill the demon before asking Robert any questions.
“Careful,” Yaura told him as he examined the body.
The rusalka’s eyes opened. They were black as midnight with no irises. Godwin’s hand twitched towards his sword, but he stayed himself. Something wasn’t right.
“I feel…strange,” the rusalka said.
Yaura gasped.
“You are…sentient?” Godwin asked.
“I am.” The rusalka’s voice was deep and throaty. She spoke as though she were speaking from under the water.
“What’s going on?” Yaura asked. “Rusalkas don’t speak.”
“Rusalka?” the demon asked, clearly offended. “Who are you calling a rusalka?”
It suddenly dawned on Godwin. The corpse-like body was more than just corpse-like. “You are dead.” It wasn’t a question.
The corpse nodded. “I am.”
“Then that would mean there’s a necromancer not far from here,” Godwin said.
“There is,” the corpse agreed. Slowly, absurdly, the dead body walked over to a log and sat down. “I feel cold.”
“Godwin, what the hell is going on?” Yaura asked.
“I’d like to know that myself,” Robert put in as he glanced about nervously. “If there’s a necromancer nearby, I’d rather not linger.”
“Hm,” Godwin said. “I believe that I may have a theory. The blade I used to cut you was oiled with a magical potion. I mistook you for a rusalka and hoped to trigger a second death to release your spirit from your body. As it turns out, you’re a mere animated corpse without so much as a trace of soul inside you. It seems my potion has had an unanticipated effect.”
The corpse nodded as if all of this made perfect sense.