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Demonhome Page 8

by Michael G. Manning


  He was watching her as she floated toward him. Matthew made a gesture with his hand and the stones that hovered around them flew back together, settling within the wooden box he held in his right hand. Settling his staff into the crook of the same arm that held his bundle he reached out and slid his right-hand underneath her, cradling her as though she were a small child instead of a full grown woman.

  And then the world changed, wrenching her senses and making her stomach flip. The firelight was gone and only the moon and stars illuminated the area around them. Gazing to either side, Karen could see that Matthew was now standing atop a large boulder of some sort.

  He dropped the cloth bundle and knelt to settle her gently on the stony ground. Her body moved as he put her down, and a fresh surge of pain tore at her. A small cry escaped her lips and then the world went black.

  ***

  Matthew sank to his knees beside Karen’s unconscious form. His back screamed in protest. Whatever the enemy had used to attack him in the beginning had pounded his shoulders and middle back like three or four blacksmiths swinging at him with hammers. The armor had prevented penetration, but the padding of his gambeson hadn’t been nearly enough to save him from what felt like the worst bruises he had ever had.

  If I hadn’t put the armor on to decrease the size of my bundle, I’d be dead now. The thought brought a fresh rush of adrenaline. He had probably had one already, but things had happened so quickly that he hadn’t noticed, he had kept his focus purely on what had needed to be done to get them away from danger.

  The enemy had been bizarre, bearing the shape and form of men but made entirely of metal. He could only imagine they were some sort of artificial construct powered by whatever magic the wizards of this world used.

  Karen had been injured by one of their weapons before he had put up a temporary shield, but he hadn’t spared a moment to examine her wound yet. Focusing his magesight, he found the wound to be ugly and bleeding freely. The projectile had entered between her neck and shoulder, shattering the collarbone before passing completely through and exiting her back. Several smaller blood vessels were torn and leaking, and the entire area around the injury had begun to swell, as though she had been struck by a hammer.

  It was like a combination of a crossbow wound and a blow from a mace.

  What kind of weapons were they? He hadn’t even been able to sense their approach, which meant they must have flown through the air with incredible speed.

  He shook his head, Focus Matthew. She could die if you don’t do something. He began repairing the blood vessels first, stopping the blood loss, then he turned his attention to her clavicle. The bone had broken into three large pieces and at least a dozen smaller ones. Fitting them together like a jigsaw puzzle he managed to get most of them back into place before fusing them together. There were a few tiny stragglers that just didn’t seem to work, so he extracted those and discarded them. That done he condensed a small amount of water from the air and used it to rinse the wound before sealing the skin.

  Her weirdly patterned shirt was ruined, though, saturated with blood. The two holes in it were a small problem compared to that. In the cold air it clung to her and chilled her skin. He hesitated, but he knew it needed to go.

  Using his aythar like a knife he sliced it apart on either side of her torso and removed it. Beneath that was the strange undergarment that wrapped around her chest and encased her breasts. It was also soaked, so he cut it away as well. It looked uncomfortable. She’ll thank me later, he told himself, though somehow he doubted it. She had displayed a bewildering number of odd behaviors already, so she would probably blame him for the loss of her restrictive garment.

  Taking a brief moment to rest, his brain decided it was a good time to remind him that he was holding a half-naked woman across his lap. His eyes traveled the length of her torso, dallying as they moved over her breasts. The light from the moon wasn’t bright enough to see them well, but his magesight aided considerably. For a moment, he wondered what they would look like under better light.

  She was still unconscious.

  Matthew closed his eyes and shook his head, ashamed of himself for the unworthy thought. In his mind, he could almost hear his father’s laugh. The old goat would have probably made a light and convinced himself there was a good reason to examine her. He didn’t know that for a fact, but his father did have a lewd sense of humor.

  No, that probably wasn’t true. Either way, now wasn’t the time for idle speculation. What mattered was protecting her from the cold, and repairing her modesty before she woke up. Levitating her body, he enfolded her in an envelope of warm air before emptying the blanket of its bulky contents.

  Once it was free of clutter, he stretched it out beneath her. Then he used his magic to wrap it carefully around her, enclosing her in several layers of thick wool. She wouldn’t be able to move, but until she woke he would be moving her with nothing but his power anyway.

  His second rush of adrenaline began to wear off, and his body began to shake. Less than an hour back in this strange world and he had already exhausted his aythar. Fumbling, he retrieved the small leather pouch from the pile of his belongings and removed one of the iron spheres.

  Matthew created a small shield around it, then activated it with the command word. He kept a tight rein on his intention as he spoke the word, using his will to alter its meaning. The iron bombs weren’t designed to be used in this manner, but he managed to avoid an all-out explosion. The aythar still rushed out far faster than he would have liked, but he held it as best he could and directed it inward, absorbing it through his hands.

  It felt like molten metal racing along the nerves in his arms. Hissing in pain, he retained his focus until he had gotten most of the energy. Some leaked away, but he hurt too much to care.

  Smoke rose from his hands and forearms, some of the hair on his skin had burned away. Drawing on an external source of power was something he had done before, but doing it so rapidly, from something like an iron bomb was obviously not ideal.

  I’m going to wind up killing myself if I do that too many more times, he noted quietly.

  A quiet hum intruded on his senses, and he glanced upward. A dark shape hovered there, too high for his stunted magesight to detect. They had been spotted.

  Raising his staff, he tried to destroy the craft, but without his magesight his aim was inadequate. Matthew growled, this world was beginning to seriously irritate him. Not for the first time, he wished he dared to fly the way his father did.

  Flying was not a wise thing for wizards to attempt. It required a lot of practice to perfect, and the learning process was usually fatal; a single mistake could be disastrous. His father had managed to survive the experience because he had been effectively immortal during the period he had first tried it.

  Matthew didn’t have that luxury, but he had something almost as good.

  He took a small clay disk from the pile of items he had brought and with a word activated it. Fine lines appeared, and then the disk fractured into twenty-four separate pieces that flew outward to take up predetermined positions in relation to one another. Investing a small amount of his power in it caused planes of force to spring up between the pieces, and with his magesight he could now see the broad, roughly disk shaped craft that rested on the rocky ground in front of him.

  It was an enchantment that created a nicely aerodynamic shape that would both protect them and make it much easier to fly. Matthew used another word to dispel the portion that served as an entry and began loading their supplies before using his aythar to levitate Karen into the craft’s interior.

  Flying would get them to their destination much faster than their original trek down the mountain had taken. It also required a lot of aythar, and he worried that, given his environment’s outright lack of aythar, he would tire far faster than normal, but it was a risk that had to be taken. If they were surrounded again, there was a very real chance that he would run out of resources to fight with before
the enemy could be eliminated.

  Expanding his aythar, he took charge of the air around them and used it to lift the enchanted disk into the air. As he had feared the task was far more draining than it would have been in his own world. The air here was dead, and all the energy had to come from him.

  Matthew wasted no time as he sent them rushing upward to clear the tops of the trees. The aerial observer followed them immediately, maintaining a precise amount of distance between them.

  He increased their speed and occasionally altered their direction, but the thing following them never faltered. It matched his every move with uncanny precision, almost as though it were somehow attached to them. He made one attempt to disrupt its flight, veering toward it and sending an updraft of air to throw the thing off balance, but it adjusted to the change in air currents with only the slightest of wobbles to indicate he had done anything.

  Eventually, he gave up. It wasn’t attacking them, so he decided to ignore it.

  Their ascent took considerably less time than coming down had taken them. In less than a quarter of an hour Matthew had found the area where he had caused the rockslide. He guided the flying craft through the rather large opening in the side of the mountain and watched carefully to see what their tag-a-long observer would do.

  It hovered quietly outside the opening, but didn’t attempt entry.

  Moving quickly, he took his staff with him and used it to etch a long line across the ground at the cave opening, then he continued it up the walls and across the ceiling. That done he created a quick shield before beginning the more intricate work of inscribing runes along the inside of his initial line. He kept it as simple as possible, but it still took him the better part of ten minutes to finish his work. He added a second line on the inside of the runes, and then empowered the enchantment with a significant portion of the aythar he had just taken from the iron bomb.

  Completed, the shield should be significantly stronger than a similar barrier made from solid iron. Exhaling a long sigh of pent up air, he returned to the larger chamber of the cave. Karen was still unconscious, though she moved frequently, groaning in her sleep. He guessed from that that her injury must be causing significant pain, so he took a second to renew the nerve block that prevented her from feeling it.

  She grew still, and the tension in her face eased. Matthew studied her features. Karen had a strong nose, a bit longer than average, but it suited her face. Her eyes were closed, but if they had been open the blue in them made a great match for the perfect teeth that were currently hidden by soft red lips. She had the whitest teeth he thought he had ever seen, which was made even more impactful by the fact that they were straight and well aligned without any gaps.

  She was beautiful. Not in the delicate or fragile sense that he saw in so many of the highborn ladies he had often been forced to socialize with, but rather in the way she radiated health and well-being. Her unusual height was the result of a strong framework that supported well exercised muscles. She was still quite feminine, and he almost blushed at the memory of what he had only recently seen.

  But she was definitely beautiful. “Like a fine horse, strong teeth and good withers,” he added to dispel the awkward turn his thoughts were taking. Briefly he wished his sister had been present to hear the remark, she would have been horrified. The thought made him smile.

  A wave of dizziness reminded him that he had already almost exhausted his aythar once again. He started to sit, but the pain in his back convinced him to remain standing. Instead he walked over to Desacus and put his hand on the great beast’s shoulder, Wake, my friend.

  One eye in the dragon’s massive skull slowly opened, revealing a large yellow iris. Desacus studied him silently for several seconds. That was a dirty trick. How long have I slept?

  “Too long,” answered Matthew, “Several harrowing days.”

  That’s what you get for issuing open ended commands, responded the dragon with a mental huff of disdain. Why are you wearing armor?

  “Carrying it was too much of a chore. Wearing it seemed a better option, which turned out to be a lucky choice on my part. I hadn’t had it on more than a few minutes before someone tried to put a lot of holes in me.” He kept his tone casual, but he found himself leaning on the dragon’s shoulder more out of necessity than by choice. “Lend me your strength, Desacus.”

  A gentle flow of aythar made its way up his arm and the young wizard sighed in relief. Slowly, painfully, he eased his way to the ground and tried to recline against the dragon’s belly. His bruises wouldn’t allow that, so he eventually wound up laying belly down on the cold stone. He continued drawing a steady trickle of aythar from the dragon and used some of it to warm himself.

  Tell me what’s going on. Who is the girl?

  Matthew wanted sleep more than anything, but he knew it was a bad idea to succumb to that desire without giving his reptilian comrade at least a basic idea of what sort of trouble they were in. He forced himself to stay awake and began recounting his recent misfortunes.

  Chapter 10

  It was dark. Not dark like sleeping outside on a moonless night, but pitch black with no glimmer of light beyond the occasional flickers created by a brain deprived of external stimulation. There were no stars.

  Karen felt weird. Her neck, shoulder, and arm were completely numb. She knew they were there only because she could feel their weight and resistance when she tried to move, but she seemed to be wrapped in some sort of heavy fabric. It was warm, for which she was grateful, but she had to fight down a rising sense of panic at being trapped and unable to see.

  Her bra was gone and as she shifted she got the sense that her shirt was similarly missing. Not a comforting thought, she noted. This was not how she had expected to wake up. Had the military captured them?

  Stay calm, Karen. Think it through. What’s the last thing you remember?

  A vision of Matthew standing in front of her wearing armor that might have been straight out of the crusades passed through her mind. She had been shot, she knew that. It had appeared as though Matthew had also been shot, more than once, but for some reason it hadn’t killed him.

  You’re assuming that he’s still alive. “Shut the fuck up, Karen. Try to be positive for a change,” she told herself.

  Something moved in the darkness; her ears detected a noise like metal scraping across stone. She froze. She wasn’t alone. Her heart began to pound in her ears as she listened for any further noises.

  “Hello.” The voice that found her was deep, several octaves lower than any human voice should be. It said something after that, and she thought the language might be the same as the one Matthew used, if it was being spoken by something that used a tractor engine for a voice box.

  She kept her silence, while trying to roll out of whatever was holding her. It took a moment to figure out the correct direction but once she got it, she was able to get out of the cloth with little trouble. Cold air touched her skin. Her shirt was definitely gone.

  A short burst of flame lit the cavern and for a brief instant she saw the massive head of a monster straight out of a nightmare. Thick scaled lips hovered over teeth that stretched out like daggers, and the eyes that stared at her had slitted pupils like those of a snake.

  Karen didn’t scream. The sound that issued from her startled mouth was something more like the ‘eep’ of a frightened rabbit. She ran, heedless of her blindness.

  “Grethak!”

  The word seemed to penetrate her brain, freezing her muscles into immobility and she fell forward. Something caught her fall and a few seconds later she felt hands on her shoulders, straightening her and setting her back on her feet. Another strange phrase followed, and her muscles began to respond again. She recognized the voice, it was Matthew.

  Thank god! She clung to him in the darkness, hardly noticing the rough metal that still covered his torso.

  It’s alright, he told her, sending the words directly into her mind. We’re safe.

  I can’t
see.

  We are in a cave. You were about to run headlong into a wall, he cautioned.

  There’s something in here with us…

  He laughed softly, That was Desacus. He’s a friend.

  She would have gaped at him, but it was too dark for the expression to have meant anything. She gaped anyway. Didn’t you see it? It wasn’t human.

  Of course not, he’s my dragon. Let me show you. He tried to step away from her, to create a more respectable distance, but she held onto him, her hands gripping his arm. Shield your eyes. I’m going to create a light, but it will seem very bright after this long in the dark.

  She nodded, but then felt silly, since he obviously couldn’t see her head moving.

  Don’t panic when you see him, added Matthew. He’s fearsome to look upon, but I promise he is friendly.

  Okay, she responded, steeling herself and lifting her right hand to cover her eyes. A brilliant white light appeared above them, near what she could now see was the center of a cavern some fifty feet in diameter.

  She blinked away tears as even the small amount of light streaming through her fingers stung her eyes. As they adjusted she looked nervously across the room toward the massive form that should have been a rock formation. It was too big to be anything else, in a rational world that is.

  Apparently, the world wasn’t rational, though. It moved, and as her vision came into better focus she could see what was clearly a dragon, a monster from the fairytales of childhood. It was huge! Legs as big around as saplings ended in claws that would have made a grizzly weep from jealousy.

  Vast wings were folded back along its sides, and a long tail was curled around its body, making its position reminiscent of a cat curling up to sleep. The creature’s lips drew back to reveal long dagger-like teeth and her heart began to pound.

  “Stop that!” commanded Matthew. “I’ve warned you about not to smile around people. It makes them nervous.”

  The dragon chuffed sulkily, but it closed its lips.

 

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