Pathfinder Tales--Reaper's Eye

by Richard A. Knaak

  Shiera had momentarily forgotten about the staff … and Toy, who no longer perched on it. He was on the dais, again seeking higher ground so that he could apparently stare the witch directly in the eye. What would happen then, Shiera could only guess, but she kept the information in mind even as she came to a decision. “Daryus! Can you remove Dolch from the dais?”

  “How quickly?”

  “Yesterday, if possible!”

  He grunted.

  Before she could say more, he leapt a couple of steps ahead, then abruptly spun in a circle. He cut a swathe with his sword not only around him, but above, then stormed the steps and tossed himself at Grigor, whose attention was still on Toy.

  Daryus collided hard with the witch. Shiera only expected them to fall to the far side of the dais, but to her surprise they flew well beyond to another set of steps. It seemed to her that Grigor barely weighed anything, as dry and hollow as the priests.

  Whatever the reason, it more than provided her with the gap she needed. Thrusting the staff under her arm, she leapt up the steps to where more and more of the Reaper’s Eye reformed. The last of the stone sealed itself together just as she reached the artifact.

  Deep within, the spot that gave the stone its name watched her.

  “I don’t know if you can hear or understand me,” she murmured as she touched the stone, “but I’ve no desire for anything from you but my life and that of my companions. I’m more than happy to help you protect yourself, even go around and erase any traces left behind. Just—”

  “Pathfinder!” Harricka called. “Beware!”

  She had no idea what the captain was warning her about, with the guardian staying oddly distant and Grigor and Daryus momentarily out of view. Then, an incredible cold spread through her from her arm and her side, so quickly that she had no time to do anything.

  The next instant, Grigor’s staff shot from her, flying over to where she had last seen Daryus and the witch. Shiera tried to stop it, but her side and arm were frozen in position, which left her only one hand with which to grab.

  The chill continued to spread, covering her leg on that side as well. Unable to stop herself, Shiera fell onto the Reaper’s Eye.

  The coldness faded as she draped over the artifact, yet Shiera experienced no relief. Through the Reaper’s Eye, she suddenly found her vision altering, seeming to expand somehow, colors muting and everything growing wavery like a heat mirage. Above her, the shadow with the scythe appendages tried to cut away the very air around it, as if something in that air was a threat.

  Without warning, a harsh beating of heavy wings resounded all around the shadow. Tzadn shriveled in fear as a shadow darker than himself draped over him. The shadows constricted around the demon, twisting him like a wet rag being wrung out. Shiera felt each twist as if she were the Reaper herself. The agony Tzadn suffered as he was reduced to a mangle of smoke and shadow shocked her, but not nearly as much as what she realized he was indicating.

  The thing that even Tzadn the Reaper feared … had just sensed his presence in the mortal world.

  29

  DEMONS

  Daryus noted with interest that Grigor was a much lighter man than he would have expected. Indeed, his lack of knowledge in that respect had caused both men to fly much farther than Daryus had intended, sending them tumbling down another set of steps on the far side of the dais.

  Somehow they turned in mid-flight, which meant Daryus ended up being the one who first hit the steps. The collision jarred the two men apart, with Grigor landing slightly to the left and on top of Daryus’s arm and leg. Thus it was that the witch was first to recover, a fact that a half-stunned Daryus knew would be to his detriment.

  Sure enough, Grigor suddenly leaned over him, bringing forth from the air a curved dagger. Up close, Daryus saw that Grigor, who had looked younger and healthier before, now once again had peeling flesh.

  The fact that Grigor was beginning to decay did little to comfort Daryus as he struggled to get a hand up to halt the dagger. Dolch might be lighter, but he still retained a wiry strength, especially when combined with the advantage of position. Daryus only managed to stop the dagger when the point was just an inch from his throat. He and Grigor fought for several precious seconds before once more Toy intruded on the situation.

  The weasel came up out of nowhere and bit the hand wielding the dagger. Grigor shouted in pain and let the dagger drop onto Daryus’s throat. Fortunately, the loose dagger only skinned the fighter on the side of the neck.

  If Daryus had any thought that Toy cared about his life, that notion was crushed as Toy also bit at his hand as he tried to grab the dagger. As Daryus pulled back the bitten appendage, the familiar spun to face the witch.

  But in that short time, Daryus saw that somehow Grigor had regained his lost staff. Despite its ruined state, the short staff evidently still held some magic. Grigor quickly raised the staff, and with it swept the weasel from between them.

  No sooner had the witch done so than he struck Daryus hard with the back of his hand. It was not the strongest of blows, but enough to keep Daryus distracted while the witch rose and fled from him back to the dais.

  Rolling over, Daryus grabbed at Grigor’s robes. Grigor stumbled forward, the staff keeping him from falling face-first.

  As Grigor sought to regain his balance, he also reached into a pouch at his belt. He pulled out a small, roundish object, then looked around as if seeking something else nearby.

  No, Daryus quickly understood. Not something, but someone. Where once he had flinched at the oncoming presence of Toy, now Grigor appeared more than eager to locate his former servant.

  But as the witch turned one way to look for Toy, from the other came a figure Daryus had all but forgotten about. The corpse of Raffan strode up on Grigor’s blind side and grabbed at the hand holding the roundish object.

  “Thank you so much, Master Grigor!” Raffan said in Toy’s voice. “It proved impossible to seize it in the corridor, but now we can be rid of that little hindrance!”

  Raffan’s hand squeezed Grigor Dolch’s in what looked like a literal death grip to Daryus. Something slimy oozed out between their fingers.

  Raffan laughed. The witch thrust the staff into the corpse’s chest and twisted it.

  The body shook violently, then collapsed in an ungainly pile.

  “Oh, too late to do any good, Master Grigor!” Toy called from somewhere. “The link with good Raffan is no more … just as is Toy’s old eye! There will be no threat to Toy from that.”

  Now Daryus understood why the weasel had played dead in the corridor. Toy had been attempting to seize his original eye, but had failed. Now, though, he had made up for that failure.

  “I will flay you alive, you little rat!” Grigor shouted. Then, as if warned by something, his gaze suddenly fell upon Shiera.

  Shiera, who Daryus now saw was frozen like a statue right before the Reaper’s Eye. Harricka, who stood guard over her, shook her shoulder, to no effect.

  More unsettling still, Daryus realized that every one of the mummified guardians had grown as still as Shiera. Once, Daryus might have thought that a good thing, but in this damnable place, he knew better.

  “No,” rasped Grigor. “She will not steal what is rightfully mine! She will not!”

  With astonishing agility, he leapt up near Shiera. To Daryus’s dismay, the priests abruptly regained their animation, converging on the dais.

  The witch is the cause of this! The witch has stirred them up again! Why that was the case, Daryus did not care. He only knew that Grigor would be the end of all of them.

  He lunged … only to have again that familiar sensation of something tangling his legs. As he dropped, he heard Toy laugh in his ear as the familiar ran past. The weasel headed toward the dais behind the unsuspecting witch. Daryus had a chance to reach for Toy, but paused at the last minute. Right now, he would take even the familiar’s dubious aid.

  Yet, as if sensing Toy’s approach, Grigor swept the
staff behind him. Toy stumbled back, falling off one of the steps and rolling back toward Daryus.

  Daryus had had enough. As the familiar landed near him, Daryus returned Toy’s earlier favor by seizing him by the tail and, with expert aim, throwing the swearing weasel at Grigor’s back.

  “Let’s see you laugh at that,” Daryus muttered.

  Toy collided with his former master. Somehow, the familiar caught hold of Grigor’s back and started climbing up over his shoulder.

  Grigor could not help but turn his head toward where the weasel climbed. The two locked gazes.

  Toy’s demon eye glowed.

  Grigor howled. His body began to shrivel.

  Toy laughed. “The patron has offered me your power, your life, even your body! What I want most, though, is your pain, Master Grigor! I want your pain!”

  “No—no!” Grigor’s other hand rose. A dagger identical to the one he had dropped while atop Daryus formed.

  For once, Toy was too slow. The dagger sank into the eager familiar’s body just at the base of the neck.

  Toy squealed. Rarely in his life had Daryus seen such a look of immense satisfaction as what crossed Grigor’s face at that moment.

  “At last! At last, I’m rid of you!” the decaying spellcaster roared madly. “Rid of you!”

  With utter contempt, Grigor flung both dagger and body aside. He turned back to the stone and Shiera … Shiera who had not moved in the least during the entire struggle. Shiera who still stood unmoving even as Grigor plucked up the Reaper’s Eye.

  That finally brought Shiera back. With a look of horror, she fought to get the stone back.

  “Grigor, you fool! You’re about to not only destroy all of us, but countless others, too! Listen to me! The Reaper seeks to remain hidden! Tzadn is hiding from a demon far more powerful than him! That’s what all this around us is about! That’s why it was so hard to find! For all our sakes, we have to bury him and this place from the knowledge of all, and do it quickly!”

  “He wants to hide? So much power, and he wants to hide?” Grigor laughed harshly as he shook the stone. “Very well! I will help him hide from everything so long as he first grants me what I want! If not, I am sure he who seeks the Reaper will be more than generous for such important knowledge!”

  Shiera shook his arm, but could not free the stone from him. “The only thing the other demon will be generous with is death! Don’t you understand—”

  He shoved her back. As the guardians closed, Grigor held the stone toward them, shouting, “I think we know this part already! Take one step nearer and I will find a way to permanently destroy the precious stone! What will happen then, do you think?”

  The guardians did not slow, but now they had only Dolch as their focus. Even those near Harricka ignored the captain in favor of seeking the witch.

  Grigor growled at the open air. “Tzadn! Hear me! I will see all of this revealed to the world if I am not granted what I ask! There will be nowhere to hide! I will have my due, one way or another! I will have my power, patron or not!”

  He waved the Reaper’s Eye to emphasize his threat—

  —and suddenly it crumbled in his hands.

  At the same time, Daryus heard a voice he had not expected to hear anymore. Toy’s voice.

  “Daryus Gaunt … I have one last task for you…”

  * * *

  Shiera could not believe Grigor’s obsession. He still thought he could gain the power he desired, if only by actually blackmailing a demon. If Shiera could credit Grigor with anything, it was an incredible confidence in himself.

  Of course, that very confidence was about to get them all obliterated.

  It did not surprise her at all when the Reaper’s Eye crumbled. She understood exactly why, even if Grigor was too caught up in his threats to grasp just what he had set into motion. In fact, at the moment, Grigor smiled broadly—not a pretty sight considering his horrific state. He let the last of the stone spill to the dais.

  “Finally…” the witch whispered. “Finally, no more fear of the wasting! No more rationing a dwindling amount of power! No more!”

  And then the shadow with which Shiera was already too familiar coalesced above them. At the same time, the guardians ceased their advance and instead slowly began retreating, all the while watching what took place atop the dais.

  Peering past her, Grigor Dolch noticed the retreat. His expression indicated that he took this as a sign of his victory.

  The ominous shadow took on its vague form. The single eye, the long, sharp appendages …

  Tzadn the Reaper hovered over them in all his demonic glory.

  Only at that moment did Grigor notice that he and Shiera were not alone on the dais. As he looked up, she quickly stepped back.

  The witch grinned at the demon. “Is it a deal, then?”

  The Reaper raised one of its scythes.

  The grin faded.

  Shiera could not help shutting her eyes as the umbral blade descended. She heard a gasp from Grigor, but nothing more. Curiosity overwhelming her good sense, she dared open her eyes.

  Grigor still stood next to her, eyes wide with fear, but still as alive as before.

  “I don’t—” he began.

  The other scythe slashed through him, leaving no trace, not even a hint of blood.

  Yet this time, Shiera beheld a change in Grigor. He shivered and his body seemed to shrink. His robes hung looser, as if underneath there were now only bones, not flesh or sinew. She could now see the shape of Grigor’s skull underneath his hair and beard. Worse, his eyes had become deep, soulless pits.

  Despite that, he somehow clung to a semblance of life. Weaving back and forth, Grigor managed to prop himself up with the staff.

  “No, he cannot be yours,” called the voice of Toy to the air. “His soul was long ago claimed by another.”

  “No…” the witch managed. He struggled to turn, to where both he and Shiera beheld Daryus holding up the limp body of Toy. Despite there clearly being no life left in the familiar, the weasel’s voice rose again from the unmoving mouth.

  “The soul of Grigor Dolch will and shall always belong to our shared patron … and he would claim it now…”

  The familiar’s demon eye flared once more.

  Grigor struggled to raise the staff in order to defend himself. Yet, just as he brought it to eye level, the staff split apart like so much dry kindling.

  “No, Master Grigor … it is time we both pay for your pact.”

  Grigor visibly struggled, jerking his head downward. As Shiera watched, it was slowly forced up again so that he met the demon eye.

  He screamed the scream of the damned … and a turbulent, crimson force Shiera realized had to be the witch’s soul poured from his mouth. In a single blink, it flowed to Toy’s demon eye and sank within it.

  And as the last of it vanished with a mournful howl, the mortal shell of Grigor Dolch fell to pieces. His body collapsed within itself. His legs tumbled over. Jaw slack, the head sank into the monstrous mound of bone and cloth.

  The moment it was done, Daryus dropped the weasel’s carcass as if it carried the plague, which to Shiera seemed not far from the truth. She exhaled in relief … and then realized that the Reaper still hovered over them.

  “Shiera…” Daryus warned.

  With the utmost caution, the utmost respect, Shiera attempted to back away.

  The demon slashed at her.

  But by then, she and Daryus were hitting the floor beyond the bottom of the dais. Daryus used the momentum of his flying tackle and twisted, making the pair roll even farther from the Reaper.

  Daryus was also the reason they finally stopped. He shifted again, this time becoming as a wall. Shiera grunted as they slammed together.

  “Find the exit! Harricka will guard you! It’s her sworn duty to protect the innocent!”

  Shiera wasn’t certain how innocent she was, but what worried her more was the insinuation that Daryus was not coming with them. However, before sh
e could say anything, he had separated from her and risen to face the Reaper.

  Tzadn hovered over the remains of the stone, its shadow darkening ominously. Then, silently, it moved toward them.

  “Get going, both of you!” Daryus called. “Take her out of here, Harricka! You know your oath!”

  “Speak to me not of oaths, Daryus Gaunt! Get back here with us! You have crimes to pay for!”

  “Are you both insane?” Shiera demanded. “He’s planning to sacrifice himself for our sakes and all you can think about is that!”

  “He—” Harricka gritted her teeth. “Is there a way out, Pathfinder?”

  “Yes … and it’s the two of you who are going to take it.”

  To the surprise of both—and to herself—Shiera started back toward the very demon from which she had just been rescued. A part of her—a very big part of her—screamed that this was not a wise thing to do. One ran from demons, and let those willing to stand against them do as they wished.

  But at that moment, Shiera knew she had a far better chance against Tzadn than either warrior. It was not a realization that pleased her, and if there had been another choice, she would have taken it. But there wasn’t.

  Daryus noticed her too late. He grabbed for her, but she slipped past.

  “Get back!” Daryus commanded. “You can do nothing!”

  “No … it’s you who can do nothing!”

  Taking a deep breath, Shiera jumped back up onto the dais. For her reward, a shadowy scythe nearly cut through her. Shiera had no idea how it would affect her, only a certainty that it would be no less gruesome than what had happened to Grigor.

  “Listen to me, Tzadn, O Reaper!” she shouted at the shadow. “I started to make an offer before! To help expunge all traces of you still left out there, to make certain the other will not find you! It can smell you even now! There is no time to waste! Let me and my friends help!”

  The Reaper replied by slashing at her. Shiera knew there was no way she could leap aside this time.

  But there was Daryus again, moving with that amazing swiftness his form belied. He stood in front of her and received the Reaper’s slash instead.