Whipping the sword around, his face contorted in a tight grimace, he plunged his blood-soaked sword through the plant’s main stem, severing it completely. The vines twitched and stopped moving. Meanwhile, Zo killed another mage with a series of fireballs that burst though his shield and set him on fire.
Areez squealed and jumped back. He muttered an incantation and a wall of plants burst out of the earth, blocking access to him. Conjuring a twister, Zo directed it towards Areez and turned her attention to the mage who was rushing towards her, webs of bright light exploding from his outstretched hands. Ducking under the streaming fire, Zo took out the knife she always strapped to her ankle and plunged it in his thigh. Unprepared for the physical assault, he screamed, buckled, and fell. Arkon finished him off with a quick thrust of the sword through his back.
Four mages were left. One of them scuttled close to Areez and dispersed Zo’s twister. They hid behind the safety of the plants that quickly grew in a circle, protecting the two mages within their thorny, convulsing confines. Untying the knots of a small pouch, Zo plunged her fingers inside and took out bits of glistening black stones. She flung them into the plants and the vines caught fire.
Arkon was fighting one of the last two mages. The mage was heaving great jets of water at Arkon, each spray hitting the shield with enough force to puncture a hole in the protective barrier. Flicking his hand, the mage caused a rock to fly towards Arkon. Using his sword, Arkon stopped the rock from bashing into his head. The clearing rang with the loud noise of steel meeting stone. Arkon jumped high, bringing his sword crashing down on the mage’s head. The wards around the mage were meant for magic, and steel found no resistance as it cleaved it way past the protective barrier and broke through the mage’s skull, cutting down right to the brain. Without a sound, the mage fell down, his body convulsing in the last throes of death.
Zo cast a glance at Areez and his companion. Her black, spelled stones had done their job. The ring of plants was burning with a fiery intensity, and within this prickly prison, the two mages were screaming like wild banshees. Leaving them at the mercy of the flames, Zo turned her attention to the last mage who still stood under the tree. During this chaotic battle, he hadn’t moved a muscle. Now, with his gaze fixated upon her, he took a few steps forward. The sun chose just that moment to spread its golden glow across the black sky. Pale beams of light chased away the shadows and Zo was able to see the sunken hollow of his cheeks, the pale, almost bloodless, skin and the blue tinge to his lips.
“Who is he?” Arkon walked to stand beside her, his sword at the ready, its tip, blackened with magic fire, glinting in the pale light.
“Not who. What is he?” Zo said the words even as realization dawned upon her.
He was a durkha, one of those elite mage warriors Vindha was rumored to be creating in a secret place.
How could he have done such a horrible thing? The magic required to do such a deed was immensely sinister and powerful. It required a dead conscience and an unparalleled lust for power to delve into the mysteries of such gruesome magic.
Was Vindha so desperate to win this war that he was sacrificing what little humanity he had left at the altar of the dark god?
The durkha raised his bony, chalk-white hand with an absent, almost lazy gesture and a shockwave lifted both Arkon and Zo off their feet and threw them ten feet away, almost near to where Leo stood still, cocooned in his protective shield. He hadn't been attacked or harmed by the mages.
Zo had no time to wonder why.
“Take the boy and run.” She stood. Opening her pouch, she took out more of the same stones she’d thrown into the plants. She flung them towards the durkha. A shield of fire appeared in front of him, obscuring his view and giving them a moment’s reprieve.
Arkon took his position by her side. “No.”
“He’ll kill us all.”
“You can fight him. He can’t be so powerful…”
Zo clutched his arm and forced him to look into her eyes. She was panting with exhaustion. “Listen to me. That’s not an ordinary mage. Ibad was right. This is a demon trapped in a dead mage’s body, forced to do the bidding of his master. He’ll not die with magic. His power is immense because he can borrow from his demonic being. Now, go.” She pushed him away.
“Run, Leo.” Arkon said to the boy. “Go.”
“No,” said the boy in as obstinate a voice as Arkon’s.
Zo shrieked in frustration but before she could force them to abandon her, the durkha stepped through the fire. He brushed away the flames that clung to his robe and advanced with measured, slow steps. His lips stretched in a macabre grin. There was no expression on his face, but it was obvious he was relishing the thought of killing them. Their death would satisfy the blood lust of his demon – at least for the time being.
Now, she knew why the killings in the villages had been so senseless, so violent. The durkhas were let loose in the land by Vindha. How many of them were there? And how many more did he intend to create? Did he desire to amass an entire army of them?
The thought sent a chill skittering down her spine.
Taking a step back, she angled her body in front of Arkon, saving him from any blow or spell. She threw the remaining spelled stones at the durkha but the fire didn’t faze him. His robe burned but he merely lifted a hand to pat it down, his skin not even singed by the red-hot flames. Wind whistled down from the east at her command, and swept him off his feet. He landed a mere four feet away but stood and walked back towards them.
Zo formed an extra shield around them moments before his bony fingers released a volley of sharp needles, conjured out of thin air, towards them. The shield absorbed the needles but burst open. The drain on Zo’s energy was immense. Already she was running out of strength. Soon, she wouldn’t have the power to create any wards. The only strategy open to her was to go on the offensive. Wind and fire didn’t seem to work. Dipping her hand in one of the small pouches that hung off her belt, she brought out a few round, blue pellets. She flung those at the durkha. The pellets burst open as they hit him. Icy, cold wind rippled around him, surrounding him.
The durkha stopped, looking mildly surprised by this new spell. The wind crystallized and formed a block of ice, nearly two feet thick. He was trapped within, his limbs sealed, preventing any movement. Zo saw him trying to push at the block but his efforts were in vain. The spell she’d used was pure and strong, created after years of practice, brewing and measuring ingredients and adding just the right amount of magic. It was one of her most powerful creations, guaranteed to freeze a man to death. It was also something she had never used before. There had never been any need to do so.
“Run. Now.” She pulled at Leo’s arm, dragging the boy even as she yelled at Arkon to follow them. They headed for the beach, towards the boat they had hired. Had the mages reached the boatman? Killed him?
She hoped not. It was their only means of escape.
“Would he…?”
“That won’t stop him for long,” she panted out the words as they sprinted towards safety. An ordinary mortal wouldn’t survive that spell. The block of ice not only froze the limbs and torso, it prevented anyone from breathing in fresh air.
Since the durkha wasn’t mortal, he didn’t need to breathe. So the only question that remained was, how long would it take him to free himself from the ice?
Their only chance was to reach the boat before the durkha managed to get free and came after them once more. He would not stop chasing them, but perhaps her spell would buy them enough time to get away before he escaped the icy prison.
They weren’t safe yet, not by a long shot.
Chapter Nineteen
The sun was now a glowing ball of fire, and the last vestiges of the night fled in its wake. Zo, Arkon and Leo ran headlong, keeping their eyes peeled for any sign of their ride. The durkha could reappear any moment. To Zo’s immense relief, the boat was waiting exactly where they had been told it would be. She ran towards it, calling for the
boatman.
“Hey! I’m here.” He appeared on the boat, rubbing his sleepy eyes.
“Release the rope,” she yelled as she ran along the path on the beach. The boat was still fifty feet away.
Safety was a mere few moments away. Panting and puffing, Zo dragged Leo, aware the Arkon was just a few steps away.
Suddenly she became aware of pounding steps behind her. Turning around, she saw the durkha moving towards them. He was fast, unnaturally so. In fact, he was faster than any human being, or even a horse. Despite battling the spell she’d unleashed on him, not only was he unharmed but also didn’t seem to be out of breath. Zo realized he would catch them before they reached the boat. Unhooking the pouch that held the flower of rosem from her belt, she pushed it into Leo’s hand and shoved the boy away from her.
“Go to the boat,” she yelled as she whirled to face the demon mage’s onslaught.
Beside her, Arkon pivoted, faced the approaching enemy, and readied his sword. That would not serve any purpose, neither would her spells. But maybe they could save the boy. If he managed to take the flower to her sister, at least Seve and Alicia would survive.
“Go, go.” Aware that Leo hadn’t moved, Zo screamed at him.
Leo took a few hesitant steps. He looked at the pouch in his hands. Conflicting emotions crossed his face but he ran for the boat.
The durkha bared his teeth, and growled at them. His red eyes appeared to glow with a vehemence.
He was clearly furious at Zo’s last trick of entombing him in ice. Raising his hands, he blew them off their feet.
They landed hard on their backs, their already tattered shields ripped apart by the furious spell. He hurled hailstones, as big as duck eggs and as sharp as newly forged daggers. Zo managed to turn the deadly missiles away but her strength was near to an end. The durkha was intent on killing them without wasting any more time. She wondered why he hadn’t done so until now.
Perhaps he was enjoying toying with her? It wasn’t often that he faced a challenger of her caliber. Ordinary mages, with just one natural, magical element, were no threat to him. But neither was she. He was a one-man army.
No hope was left. Zo stood, swaying on her feet, no energy left in her body for any further spells. Whatever little she had in her pouches wouldn’t harm him. He was more than a match for her power. He was a killing machine, created for one purpose, to fulfill the malevolent desires of his master by eliminating his enemies.
And yet, she wasn't ready to give up so easily.
Opening another pouch, she flung the powder it held towards her nemesis. The air shimmered and turned a deep shade of purple. The durkha slowed, almost as if it was too dense for him to walk through. This would not stop him, but it might give Leo a chance to get away.
In the distance, she could hear the boatman screaming but the voice seemed to be coming from far away. She watched, her vision blurry, as the durkha walked forward, his hands outstretched, ready to deliver the death blow.
Arkon lunged with his sword. Zo screamed, fearful for his life. The durkha merely waved his hand and Arkon was swept off his feet. He fell behind her.
Zo readied herself. She was going to die. Fear pooled in her heart, not for herself but for Arkon, who would die with her. She hoped Leo would escape unscathed. He was the only one who could now save Alicia and Seve. If Leo also failed to flee, any chance for her brother and sister’s survival would be lost.
The pain of disappointment was far greater than her fear for death and for the first time in her life, tears escaped Zo’s eyes. It was the first and last time she would ever cry. With a determined hand, Zo wiped the tears clean. She raised her hands for one last spell…her final spell. By draining her body of all power, she would give Leo a few precious moments to reach the boat and get away with the flower of rosem.
It was the only thing left to do. It would save Leo, Seve, and Alicia.
The durkha approached with an ominous silence. His expressionless face betrayed no emotion. Zo was sure he felt no personal rage towards them. No hatred or animosity emanated from him, but he was a demon, and in a typical cold, calculated way he would kill them to serve the dictates of his master.
He raised his hand, the long, bent fingernails pointing at them.
This was it.
It was the end.
Suddenly, a volley of knives flew from the grove of trees, aiming for the durkha. Most fell to the ground as he raised his hands to stop them, but one struck him on the shoulder and two other went right through his chest, their ivory handles poking out, the blades buried deep in his body. Without screaming or showing any sign of pain, the durkha bent his head to take a look. He pulled out the knives one by one and threw them away. No blood seeped out from his wounds.
He was immortal. How was one supposed to kill an already dead mage? Various thoughts thundered through Zo’s head as she turned to check on Leo’s progress. He was almost near the boat. She turned back to look at their unexpected ally, and was astonished to see three akachimas running towards them.
Now she had another worry; the women were back to kidnap the boy.
To her immense surprise, the akachimas attacked only the durkha, hurling knives at him at a fast speed.
“Run,” said Arkon, grabbing her hand and pulling her.
Zo shook her hand free. “We can’t just leave them. He’ll kill them all.”
“Then he’ll turn his attention to us.”
Zo watched as two more akachimas joined the battle, throwing knives at the durkha, not giving him a chance to aim at any single one of them. Circling around him, they flew and leapt in the air, changing positions so rapidly he found it hard to focus on any one of them.
It was clear that the women were adept at battling with mages.
“You take Leo and go,” said Zo as she plunged her hand inside another one of the pouches and took out a handful of green pellets. Taking aim, she let them loose. The pellets flew towards the durkha, formed a circle around him. Frigid cold winds enveloped him, knocking him off-balance.
Two more knives found their mark. The durkha let forth a loud, blood-cuddling scream, not from pain but from the sheer confusion of the attacks. Although he was outnumbered, Zo knew he would eventually overcome them all.
Arkon yelled at Leo to hurry. “He is on the boat now,” he confirmed.
“Tell the boatman to take off,” said Zo.
Arkon motioned to the boatman who started to haul his anchor up. “We should go.”
Desperation coated Arkon’s words. “Come on, princess, I can’t let you die here.”
“I’ll not be a coward, Arkon. If this is my fate, I’ll meet it head on. These women are fighting to save Leo, and us…we can’t desert them.”
Arkon gripped her hand. “I’ll stand by your side.”
They watched the akachimas. The three women swung their chains and flung them at the durkha. The chains flew past his body as he flicked his hands, but the women didn’t give up. Sensing their intention, Zo added one of her spells in order to boost their efforts. The wind blew the sand around the durkha’s feet, whipping it in a circular motion around his body until he was covered from head to feet in swirling mists of sand. For a few precious moments, he was virtually blind.
Taking advantage of his temporary blindness, one of the akachimas leapt near and whipped her chain around his body. Another joined in, and then another. To Zo’s surprise, the durkha stopped moving. He was completely immobilized. The two remaining akachimas left their companions and came running at Zo.
Arkon raised his sword, ready to bring it down on them. “Get ready. They are coming for us now.”
To Zo’s surprise, the akachimas flew past them, heading for the boat. “Come. He won’t remain chained for long,” one of them yelled back.
“What about your friends?” shouted Zo but they were already at the boat.
“Don’t worry about us,” answered the one who held a chain to the durkha. “Sail away. You need to take the proph
et to safety.”
Zo chewed her bottom lip, torn by conflicting needs. She couldn’t just abandon their saviors to certain death but if they didn’t sail off the beach soon, the durkha would kill them all. The magic of the chains didn’t last forever. Soon, he would be free.
“Go. Go,” yelled another woman. The sand that covered the durkha at Zo’s command had also settled on the women, making them look like white, ghostly waifs.
Suddenly, Zo was transported back to her childhood when she used to play with her siblings on the beach. It had been a long time ago, but the memories were still sharp. “I’ve an idea. When I tell you, remove your chains and run towards the boat,” she told them, taking a few steps back.
“But…” said the woman, her face contorted with the effort it took to maintain her hold on the demon mage.
“Trust me. We’ll be safe. Now, wait for my command.” Zo took another step back. Raising her hands, she surrendered herself to this one last act. At her slight gesture, the wind picked up speed and swirled the silvery sand around his body in thick layers until he was encased on all sides. Zo waited until the sand around him was nearly three feet thick. “Now!” she said.
The women broke their hold and sprinted towards the boats. Within moments, they passed Arkon and Zo and were on the boat.
Zo maintained the spell. The magic of the chains would keep him disoriented long for her to do what needed to be done. More and more sand gathered around him. Still, Zo didn’t stop. Soon, he was buried under a mound of sand.
“That won’t stop him for long,” said Arkon. He stood behind her, his sword held ready.
“No, but this will,” she said and raised one arm. She brought it crashing down. Lightening crackled and burst through the clear, sea-blue sky. As it was it about to hit the mound, the lightning split into a million rays and instead of hitting the centre of the mound where the durkha was, it struck in a neat circle around him. There was a bright flash, and the scent of something burning wafted in the air.
The Demon Mages (The Power of Three Book 1) Page 23