As Esven reached forward to seize a weed she hoped would give her enough leverage to pull the whole of her body into Brigovia, a shriek behind her sounded. She didn’t have enough time to turn.
Bodies flew over the top of her. Demons launched themselves through the gate, spilling into the forest. Beasts with powerful haunches cared little as they trampled over Balvonak and Esven. Winged creatures forced themselves through, wailing as they pierced the sky.
The light accosted them. Some didn’t get used to it in time, colliding blindly into tree trunks. Others disappeared into the woodlands, guided by instinct. By smell.
Esven screamed as a claw pierced her back. The demon didn’t linger long. It pushed itself off of her body, joining its brethren outside the gate. Even demons far more human in appearance leapt over the two bodies as well, laughing wildly as they tasted freedom for the first time in a long time.
The witch stared, stricken with horror. What went wrong? What did she do? She didn’t intend to be the key for them all—only Balvo. Something severed the integrity of her incantation. Pain? Oxygen deprivation? Her concentration failed her. She botched the most important part of the spell.
She didn’t get the sentiment right.
“I failed.” Her words tumbled from her in a whisper. “I failed—mother, forgive me.” Her eyes welled with tears she’d never allow herself to shed.
She would have lingered halfway in the door way had Balvonak not regained his senses. Several forceful blinks and a mouthful of Brigovia’s air rebooted his brain.
Where were they? The gate? Demons were everywhere—flooding out of the door in heaps.
Esven. He found her beside him. Balvo bit down on his own tongue to keep his agony inside him. He grabbed her and rolled, freeing their bodies from the gate. His cauterized thigh screamed. His bleeding foot throbbed.
Balvo turned to see how many more were coming. Did he use himself as a shield? If he laid over her to protect her, she would burn from his touch. He stretched shaking arms out from his sides, trying to block her as much as possible, but his body was a wreck.
It didn’t matter.
As soon as Esven’s body was pulled from the portal, the gateway sealed once more. Demons crashed into the invisible glass again, screeching, clawing at the opening. Bound once more to the Netherworld.
The key—Esven—had been removed.
Demons surrounded the two as they lay outside the gate. Some fled. Others stayed. Esven panted heavily, straining to take in the sight of them all.
Balvo glanced over his shoulder to be sure she was okay. When he saw she still breathed, he returned to those around them, vying to show a body that was not worn down by battle. Show no weaknesses, he reminded himself. Not against demons.
A wrathful Marumon could be heard howling inside the door. The pair flicked their heads to the gateway. “Esven,” Balvo gestured to where the bone key hovered, still far too injured to maneuver his body over there himself. “The key.”
Pushing through the pain to crawl forward on her blistered hands and quaking knees, Esven reached up to seize it. Before she could pluck it from its home, a hand reached out of the portal, clasping around her wrist.
“Ah!” Esven pinched her eyes shut, wailing as the heat spread up her arm.
Vahldod stepped out, scowling down at her as he shook his head. “Slamming the door in my face? Not very lady like, little one.”
She sucked air in through her teeth, trying to tug out of his scorching grasp. “How can this be?” she seethed, feeling the weight of the necklace she stole from him still jostling in her pocket. “I took your key!”
“Yes, the same time I took Balvo’s from you. Very clever.” He smirked, inhaling the scent of her burning flesh. “But not clever enough.” Vahldod leaned in, his face hovering before hers. “If you think I only fooled one human into granting me their heart… oh, little one, you are dead wrong. Now carry on kneeling in that doorway, so that the rest of my brethren can emerge, and I can collect my reward.”
A final tug allowed Esven to jerk her arm free. She cradled the damaged skin, shoving up leaves as she edged away from Vahldod. “And if I refuse?” she snarled.
The wounded Vahldod grinned, holding only one of his arms out at his side. The other dangled loosely beside him. “I bet I could inspire you,” he mumbled, turning to Balvonak. “Fresh off of Marumon’s rage… he’s in no condition to win, little one. Not against all of these demons.” Vahldod circled, soaking in the sight of the army. “But… I could convince them to let him live. What say you?”
Balvonak coughed. Flecks of blood splattered out of his mouth, but he smirked through the trail of black that oozed down his chin. “I’d say that’s a fool’s bet.”
“Oh?” Vahldod arched a brow. He looked at Esven. “And what do you think?”
Esven’s heart threatened to kill her. It crashed against the inside of her chest with no mercy. She looked to Balvo, her eyes filled with hesitation. With care. It was foolish and impractical to value his life above the lives of innumerable others, but she couldn’t keep from considering it, just for a moment.
Balvo saw it. As soon as he did, he shook his head, his voice gurgling on the blood that still hid in his throat. “No, no—do not open that damned door, Esven—”
Vahldod laughed, his eye twitching through the pain that the action caused him. “I suspected as much.” He approached Esven, towering over her. “Affection for demons. My, my, you really are Amadeia’s child.”
The endless demons surrounding them closed in. Saliva dangled from their waiting mouths. The lucid of those freed, had the intelligence to depart. To vanish into the forest and live to rain their chaos down on mankind. But the wild ones… the wild ones stayed.
They looked hungry.
“Open the door,” Vahldod barked, losing his patience. “Tick tock, m’lady.”
The witch gawked up at Vahl, her jaw hanging open. There were not many moments that Esven Greenbriar was stricken with paralysis. Perhaps only around fire. Around the Brotherhood. And now. She felt frozen, anchored to the ground, as if the act of thinking was a punishment in and of itself.
And it was. There were no good solutions.
“Esven!”
The name leapt from behind the demon horde. She could not see him. Not yet; but she knew he was there. She saw Maritimus first, standing before the priest with a puffed out chest. Beyond the cat’s shoulders, she caught sight of her confidant.
“Elias!” She wanted to tell him to turn back. To spare himself. She could not stand to lose both of her companions. But Elias called forth, ceasing her from doing so.
“I hope you can still pull off that protection spell,” he shouted, pushing his way through the trees and into her sight.
Vahldod’s eyes narrowed. The robes. He recognized them immediately. “Priest,” he sneered, drawing back in disgust.
Esven did not pause to question Elias’ insinuation. She witnessed the power he held over demons. The day that he unknowingly torched Balvonak’s chest remained etched into her brain.
It took everything she had left inside her, but she dragged herself the few feet back to Balvo’s side and gripped his boot with her blistered hand. The sphere of protection engulfed them both.
Elias spied the ripples. The protection spell took. He threw his eyes to Vahldod—to the demon army—and gripped his rosary in his hands.
Some demons tried to flee. They were not so far gone that they failed to recognize the priest for what he was.
They did not get very far.
“By the name of the Angel Lord, Ageshiem, I command you to return whence ye came!”
White light. That was all Esven saw before she pinched her eyes shut, fearful she had gone blind. The beam that slammed down from the skies engulfed the forest. Shook the ground. Rattled the trees.
In an instant, the demons in its path were reduced to dust. Nearly fifty bodies, extinguished. Gone like a candle’s flame.
Elias hit his k
nees. The task was done. The power of the Angel Lord, Ageshiem, abandoned his body, leaving him completely depleted.
When Esven opened her eyes, she saw the carnage. Or lack thereof. Where countless demons once stood, not a one was left in sight. The forest remained unharmed. No aftermath, other than a total annihilation of the creatures who were present.
Turning her gaze, she saw Elias. Her alarm spiked at the sight of him. He looked pale. Limp. Like a ragdoll. “Elias!” She tried to dash toward him, but her scalded palms did not permit her to push her body to stand. Esven called out instead. “Are you all right?”
Her voice sounded far away, but he understood the words. The priest had nothing left in him to announce a reply. He did the only thing he could manage: nod.
Esven’s chest heaved rapidly. She accepted Elias’ silent confirmation and looked once more to Balvo. His foot still leaked a steady trail of blood. Blood he couldn’t afford to lose. Using her elbows, Esven dragged herself a little closer and laid her bubbled palm on his wound.
“Esven, stop,” Balvo breathed, trying to pull his leg away. “Look at your hands.” He let out a breathy laugh, but his attempt to produce nonchalance failed when it turned into a cough. “I’m fine, my darling. Just leave it be.”
“It’s pride like that which will get you killed,” she mumbled, wincing as her raw skin touched his flesh once more. In seconds, the wound had cauterized, leaving nothing behind but the soiled patches of blood that had stained his boot.
Instinct propelled Balvo to flex his foot. He glanced at Esven’s war-torn body, her scalded hands, her ashen face. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch her. To help her to her feet. The demon kept his arms anchored at his sides. Much as he wished to, he could offer her no aid. He was half the reason she had been injured to begin with.
And the other half…
Balvo whipped his head in the direction Vahldod once stood. Though he had hoped to see nothing left of him but floating debris, he spied the demon in the gateway. Vahldod stared at them menacingly through the door, his jaw grinding together. Rather than be incinerated with the others, he slipped back into the Netherworld, where the power of Ageshiem could not touch him.
Forcing himself to stand, Balvo limped over to the door. Though his wound had been sealed, the injury still throbbed, both in his foot and his thigh. Ash and blood smeared his face as he wiped his arm across his chin, fixated on Vahldod.
The two said nothing. Though no words were exchanged, their glares spoke volumes.
Balvo reached out, plucking the bone key from the air. He watched as the door around Vahldod disappeared.
It wouldn’t keep him at bay forever. Vahldod could obtain another bone key very easily. But it would certainly slow him down a little. Long enough, at least, for them to vacate the area.
From the treetops, Maritimus meowed. He looked incredibly displeased, shaking the effects of the last few minutes from his ears. Settled, he ran down the trunk of the tree, nearly defying the laws of gravity, before he padded over to Esven. She continued to lay on the ground, trying to catch her breath. The feline sniffed at her cheek before he climbed on her back, kneaded her cloak, and laid down.
“You must be joking,” the witch muttered, her lips pressed into a mouthful of fallen leaves and grass.
Maritimus purred, content with his decision.
The fire demon formed half of an exhausted smirk. He looked beyond Esven, over to Elias. The priest had not yet risen from where he kneeled on the ground.
Balvonak limped over, chastising himself the whole while as he willingly strode into the proximity of the very breed of man he despised most. His shadow fell over Elias as he swallowed down his ego. Without Elias, without a holy man to channel the power of the Angel Lord, Ageshiem, he would have surely met his end. “Do you… need any… anything?” he muttered.
Elias faced the ground, his head hanging. His shoulders rose and fell with each labored breath. He had been warned of the aftereffects one faced when they channeled the supremacy of the Angel Lord through their body. He always wondered what it would feel like. As he fixated on a yellowing leaf, just to have somewhere to focus his eyes, he arrived at his conclusion.
It was not pleasant.
It was not just the physical depletion that kept his head hung low. If he were to look up… he’d have to face the evidence of all the lives he ended.
Elias had never killed anything before in his life.
He shook his head, still unable to find the power to move his tongue. He needed to focus on breathing, and little else.
Esven stretched her palms out, closing her eyes to hone her focus. She ran as much energy as she could muster from her chest, down her arms, into the bubbled skin on her wrists and hands. It was enough to grow another few layers over the damaged tissue, but the redness around them remained.
With only minimal regard to Maritimus, Esven pushed herself up to her hands and knees. She had to get to Elias. The cat remained on her back, undisturbed, with his paws curled under his purring body.
“Come on,” the witch mumbled, tensing her shoulders. “Haven’t I been through enough today? Elias needs my help. Where is your heart, Maritimus?”
The cat continued to purr, closing his eyes.
“All right.” She reached back, scooping him into her arm before she convinced her legs to stand. Her bones wobbled, requiring rest to restore what her body lost from the incantations she had cast. But, she was alive. Esven supported Maritimus with both arms, gently scratching the side of his face as she dragged herself over to Elias and Balvonak.
The priest looked like a pile of brown rags kneeling there. Esven lowered herself beside him, putting one hand on his shoulder. She remembered what he had confessed back in his room. That invoking the Angel Lord was an incredible risk. She didn’t know how much of a risk, but by the looks of him, it seemed to be a lot. “Elias?”
When he did not respond, she pulled energy through the forest. Through the roots. Through the ground. Esven had nothing left in her own body to give to her companion, but the forest was more than willing to let her act as a vessel, lending its liveliness to the priest through the witch’s fingers.
His shoulder warmed as Esven’s body took the solar energy and transformed it into something Elias’ organs could use. It took several moments, but the priest no longer felt the icy hold of demise around him. He prepared himself for what he was about to see and lifted his head.
Nothing. Indeed, the demons had all gone.
“Thank you, Esven,” he uttered, voicing none of his internal turmoil at having taken their lives.
She squeezed his shoulder to let him know she had heard him. “I can’t believe you came. I thought… De’Savaria—the Brotherhood—”
“I had to feign an illness to excuse myself from the service. When I caught sight of Maritimus, I just knew something was wrong,” Elias admitted, his tone highlighting how awful he felt for abandoning his church-goers. For lying. “One of the monks was kind enough to take over.” He found her eyes, his own pleading. “I’m sorry, Esven. I could not allow you to walk through the shadowed land alone.”
Despite the chaos, Esven formed a tired smile. She sighed, letting some of her exhaustion out with her breath. “There is no need to seek forgiveness, Elias. Were it not for you, we wouldn’t be here right now.”
They survived. They were safe. But the reprieve was short-lived. She had failed to deliver the message to Marumon. She hadn’t even gotten in a single word. The Demon Lord’s rage overpowered her voice, and the entire effort was a failure.
That wasn’t even the worst of it.
As the stillness of the forest surrounded them, Esven’s expression shifted into a frown. “Some of the demons escaped,” she announced, knowing full-well the others already knew.
“Yes,” Elias replied, sliding a hand down his exhausted face. “We must find them. Send them to the afterlife, lest they wreak havoc on Brigovia…”
“I think you’re g
etting too far ahead of yourself, priest.” Balvo glanced to the two humans, shaking his head. “You nearly went to the afterlife yourselves just now.”
“Elias is right,” Esven interjected, gazing up at Balvo from where she knelt. “I freed them. Unwillingly, but I accept my involvement in this. I botched the spell.” She closed her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek. “I will do whatever it takes to send them back to where they came.”
She had to. Liability aside… it’s what Amadeia would have wanted.
Balvo scrunched his face and turned away. Hunting demons? Not in his repertoire. Then again… it wasn’t as if he could possibly betray Marumon anymore than he already had. His eyes squeezed shut at the thought. Balvonak did not know what horrors awaited him for his treason against the Demon Lord… but he was none too eager to find out.
Shoving that terror from his mind, the demon cleared his throat. “First things first... before you two make any life-altering decisions, we should probably get out of here. Get the priest back to the church. Get you back…” Home? To the church as well? Balvonak was unsure which path the witch would take. It left him more uncomfortable than he thought it would.
“Of course.” Elias agreed, willing his quaking knees to support his frame as he stood. “I must return before anyone realizes I am missing.” He turned to Esven, his face full of sincerity. “Fear not. We will corral them. Angel Lord willing, no matter how long it takes.”
Watching the trio as they departed from the forest, a set of horrified eyes lingered in the twisted branches and shrubs. He tried his best to still his breathing, but the horrors he had witnessed…
De’Savaria knew that when Elias Deverell excused himself from the church service, something was off. He had suspected for a long while. He wasn’t confident enough at the time to involve any of the other members. Not on a hunch.
In the moment, he wished he had.
The Brotherhood’s leader never thought, if he lived a thousand lifetimes or more, that he would witness what he had today.
A priest, his priest, aligning with witches and demons…
It was an affront to the church—no matter how many demons Elias destroyed.
Followed by Fire Page 24